My Love Rival Is Me!

... Do well to turn in your assignment at the end of the week for assessment. There will be no excuses this time!" 'Sigh, ...at least it's just one assignment this time, time to head back home'. Renji thought to himself wearily. Picking up his bag slumped on the floor, Renji got up with short, labored steps, His next destination, his apartment, a 20-minute walk from his school, Kurobara University—an ancient edifice, having stood the test of time for more than three centuries, was the enduring pride of Whitestone city. It was an imposing fortress of stone and history. Its ivy-wrapped walls, spiraling towers and artfully trimmed greenery made it a stark contrast to the towering skyscrapers, elevated monorails and neon advertisements that adorned the city in the backdrop. As Renji trudged along the cobblestone path, his shoulders hunched under the weight of a backpack far too heavy for a single assignment. He let out another long, weary sigh. 'I should stop by the supermarket for some sunglasses'. 'The blood moon should be today, I think', he thought to himself, his eyes flicking up to the darkening night sky. The Black gargoyles perched along the rooftops seemed to watch him disapprovingly, their taunting stone eyes unblinking as he walked past. And then, he saw her... Aya Tomori... As she moved through the courtyard, her chestnut-brown hair caught the last glow of evening. Her figure—slim yet curvaceous, with long legs, a narrow waist, and gently rounded hips that gave her a striking silhouette. Her movements were natural, confident, and fluid, drawing eyes without her needing to try. She was the girl of his dreams, and for five long years he had watched from the edges—never daring to speak or get too close for fear of rejection. At first, it had been a quiet admiration, maybe it was her inviolable body or the effortless way she carried herself through crowded halls, but the reason had been lost to time. That admiration had grown into something heavier, more consuming. It wasn’t just attraction; it was an ache of longing, a mixture of admiration, nervousness, and an almost desperate hope that someday she might notice him. He remembered every small detail: the subtle tilt of her head when she laughed, the warm glint of her amber eyes in the sun, the way her voice could cut through the chatter of a crowded classroom and still make his chest tighten. Even the simplest interactions, like her staring in his direction, had left him reeling for hours afterward. Yet for five years, he had watched from the edges. He knew her routines, her favorite spots in the school grounds, the way she smiled at friends and fans alike. And yet, no matter how familiar her presence became, he knew the rift between them was still as insurmountable as ever. And yet, there she was again... He could feel his heart thundering in his chest, palms slightly sweaty as he clenched and unclenched his fists. "Just... say hi. Keep it simple. Nothing will happen," he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath to steady his racing thoughts. Step by step, he closed the distance, his courage slowly mounting, his mind repeating the words he wanted to speak. But then he suddenly stopped and realized... Aya wasn’t alone... Well, of course she wasn't... She was surrounded by a small crowd, students drawn to her like moths to a flame. A group of admirers laughed and jostled, hanging on her every word, while others tried subtly to catch her attention with shy smiles. Renji froze, his stomach twisting. He felt suddenly small, invisible, and painfully aware of the gap between him and her effortless magnetism. "Hey Aya, wanna go watch the Eclipse together?"—was what he would have said. But yet at that final step, his confidence faltered. 'Forget it', he thought, a pang of disappointment cutting through his nerves. Yet even as the crowd slowly drifted away from his position, Renji couldn’t tear his eyes away. Every subtle gesture, every flicker of her amber gaze, made him realize that despite being near her—he was still so, so far away. Taking one last glance, he tore his gaze away from her and slowly resumed his walk back home, each step labored with the weight of his thoughts. Unbeknownst to him, from across the courtyard, through the crowd that surrounded her, Aya's amber eyes followed him, just briefly, but enough to register his existence. Renji’s steps echoed along the familiar streets, each one heavier than the last. The neon lights, humming cars, and flickering holograms repeated at the same rhythm he had seen countless evenings before, yet tonight they felt sharper, colder, a constant reminder of how small and unnoticed he seemed. He found himself replaying the moment before, Aya just a few steps away, and yet so far away—just as she always was. "Ahh, I almost forgot," He then took a detour to a small supermarket beside him, the fluorescent lights harsh against his tired eyes. He wandered the aisles, barely noticing the colorful displays, until he found a simple pair of sunglasses, "Yeah, this one should do..." He muttered to himself. He paid quickly, muttering a quiet thanks to the clerk, and stepped back into the evening streets. As he stepped out of the supermarket, he tried on the cheap sunglasses. Then he suddenly imagined himself and Aya standing together, her beautiful smile, her hands interlocked with his as they watched the blood moon rise. But remembering the sight of her surrounded by her admirers and his non-existent resolve, his heart sank. The money spent, the effort of coming out here, even the excitement he’d felt moments ago—it all felt pointless. Finally, he reached his apartment building. His apartment was a small, cramped cubicle barely large enough to call a room. The floor was a patchwork of empty snack wrappers, and stray papers that seemed to multiply with each passing day. Textbooks lay open haphazardly on the desk. Instant noodle cups, some empty and some half-eaten, were scattered across the floor and almost every flat surface: the desk, the windowsill, even the narrow kitchen counter. The faint scent of seasoning clung to the air, mixing with the smell of old used laundry and worn fabric from the piles of clothes draped over chair and on the bed. "Home sweet home I guess..." he muttered under this breath as he navigated through the labyrinth that was his room. He threw himself onto the bed, more a platform for occasional rest than one for proper sleeping. It was rumpled and unmade, papers spilling over its edges. Even the walls seemed cluttered, pinned with scraps of paper, sticky notes, and a few old family photos, all jostling for attention in the cramped space. Despite the chaos, it was unmistakably Renji's domain—a messy, imperfect sanctuary where everything was at arm’s reach, yet nothing was in its place, reflecting the disarray of his thoughts and the quiet weight of his loneliness. He sat at the edge of his bed, the pair of eclipse glasses still clutched loosely in his hand—a cheap piece of plastic that had once felt like a bridge to something brighter, now mocked his foolish hope. Hours ago, he would have been buzzing with anticipation, eager to look up at the sky, eager to share even a silent moment of wonder with Aya. But now… now the glasses felt heavier than they should, reminding him of what he couldn’t have. "Why can’t I just… move? Just once?" he muttered into the stillness, covering his face with both hands. "She was right there." His words trailed off, but his thoughts sharpened cruelly. He saw himself again—a guy who had always lingered at the edges, too shy, too unassuming, fading into the background while others filled the space he couldn’t take. "It’s always like this, isn’t it? Every time, I watch. I want to speak, I want to reach out, but I just… can’t." He let out a bitter laugh. "I'm so pathetic. Five years, and I’m still the same useless boy." He forced himself to stand and shuffle towards the narrow window. The blood moon was already rising, painting the sky a deep, otherworldly red. People outside gasped and laughed, their voices carrying in through the apartment windows. Renji raised the glasses to his face, but the thrill he had once imagined never came. "It’s beautiful," he whispered, though the words felt hollow. His heart was tired, unwilling to lift with the sight. The thought of Aya, smiling brightly in the crowd while he stood here alone, smothered what little joy the heavens offered. The glasses slipped from his fingers and clattered against the floor. Yet he didn’t bother to pick them up. He turned back to his bed, the faint red glow from outside brushing faintly against the clutter of his room, and collapsed onto the mattress with a weary sigh, letting the silence of his humble space settle over him. And for a moment, silence filled the room, broken only by the faint hum of the city outside.