In The Stars

To him, numbers meant everything. They provided certainty to the uncertain. They made the impossible possible. They gave meaning to things that otherwise had no explanation. They were what defined the universe he inhabited. They were everywhere he looked; from the way the leaves danced in the air before landing on the ground to the specs of dust on the lens of his glasses. He reveled in the simple beauty of the world, thanks to mathematics.

Mitsuya Akuto had always seen the world through an analytical lens ever since he could remember. The processing of information and breaking down everything he saw into simple components was more natural to him than breathing. He had always found it easy to turn everything into numbers and compartmentalize it for storage in his vast memories. He had an imposing authority with the way he conducted himself, but was capable of being friendly and pleasant to be around. His alluring eyes were enough to entice anyone into striking a profound conversation on the interconnectedness of the universe to mathematics.

The obsession he had with the universe eventually brought him to the doorsteps of JAXA; Japan's very own space program. He was fresh out of his doctorate program and ready to begin his first postdoctoral fellowship within the prestigious organization. In his brief tenure, Mitsuya was expected to provide his mathematical expertise to design the next generation space shuttle for a mission that would happen decades after his own death. The expectations were high, but his desire for perfection was even higher. It was a position he did not take lightly, especially with the stakes this hefty. The workload was far more than what he was paid for, but his love for the subject was more than enough to make up for the financial gap.

One late night, Mitsuya noticed that the door to the observatory that contained a giant telescope was slightly ajar. Curious, he decided to poke his head in to see who was in there. Sitting in front of the computer system that controlled the scope was a young woman who looked like she was going to fall apart from her own nerves. There was a certain ethereal beauty to the way she fixated on the screens in front of her. She was jittery and shakily holding a hot cup of what was probably coffee dangerously close to the system. Not wanting an expensive accident on his hands, he knocked on the door when she had placed the cup down on a stool beside her.

"I didn't realize there was still someone here," he remarked.

"Oh! I didn't know you were here, either," she responded in kind. "You're the new postdoc, right?"

Mitsuya approached her with his hand held out. "Mitsuya Akuto, but you don't have to use my title. A pleasure."

The woman firmly grasped his hand and shook it. " . No fancy title yet. Nice to meet you, Mitsuya-san."

" -san, then? What are you doing here so late in the night?"

She sighed. "My PhD defense is tomorrow, but I'm so nervous that I can't even sleep. I come here to look at the stars when I can't do anything else."

"Yes, the PhD defense is arguably the worst one," he empathized. "What made you decide to pursue one?"

"Well, I need one if I want to go up someday. I've been going through physical training since my final year of undergrad and I've been working very closely with JAXA for my Master's and PhD." She paused to take a sip of her drink. "But, in all honesty, I just did it because I love space."

Mitsuya was surprised that this person was pursuing graduate education for a similar reason. "How profound."

She chuckled a little. "What brings you to JAXA? The funding here isn't that great for anyone, really."

He took a seat on one of the empty stools. "The project seemed intriguing and I am one of the very few PhD holders in this country that specializes in stochastic optimization."

"Now that is a very niche branch of math."

"It really is," he lamented. "What's your dissertation on?"

"Blueshift of distant stars," she said rather confidently without fumbling over her words. "By distant, I mean several hundred thousand light years away."

"What is blueshift, exactly?"

"In the most simple way possible, it's when a star is moving closer towards us. Normally, it's just because they're just moving towards the Earth with some rhyme or reason. Other astronomers want to believe it's because our universe is closing in on itself, but the evidence to suggest that is non-existent."

"How interesting. Is the Big Crunch upon us?"

She shook her head while chuckling softly. "I wish. That would make a killer thesis. Unfortunately, most of the cases I've studied are just Doppler blueshift. Nothing really exciting."

Mitsuya smiled gently. "It seems like you do know what you are talking about, -san."

She blushed. "That's just elementary knowledge in my field. Anyone with an undergrad in astronomy could tell you that."

"And that's exactly what your committee is looking for," he reassured. "You know this stuff better than anyone else. You wouldn't even be defending if your advisor didn't believe you were fully ready for it."

"You do have a point, Mitsuya-san," she laughed nervously. "I just wish I could practice it one more time."

"Why not? I'm free."

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly-"

"I insist. I did go through the same process you're about to go through not too long ago. I'll help you out and give you pointers."

A wide grin began to grow on her sleep deprived face. "Thank you, Mitsuya-san."

It had only been a week since he started his fellowship. It was a diverse team of radical and creative thinkers, but none of them could impress Mitsuya enough. Though the team consisted of people with many qualifications and professional titles, they were as dull as doorknobs. He felt like he was on an entire different wavelength than everyone else. It was going to be a long contract if he was forced to work with colleagues who couldn't stimulate his neurons. Luckily, the research was enough to keep him occupied, which was rewarding in its own way. His mind would often wander to the person he met at the observatory last week. He wondered if she had made it out of her defense unscathed, but all of the data he was able to gather on her based on the short interaction he had would suggest that she was successful.

After months of monotony, he found himself at a bit of a breaking point. He needed something to do to jog his brain and ended up sneaking into the observatory once again. No one was there, which was expected, given the fact that everyone had gone home for the weekend. There was a strange desire for him to return to this spot and he knew it was because he wanted to see her again. He wanted to have a conversation with someone he didn't immediately disregard due to their lack of intelligence.

The room was dark, save for the blue-tinted glow of the computer screens. He didn't bother to flick on the lights and walked up to the terminal. All of the buttons and interfaces were fairly easy to understand, but he didn't have a clue as to how to calibrate the instrument.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," the familiar voice called out to him from the entranceway. "The thing costs more than all of your organs on the black market and then some."

"Gross overestimation of my flesh's worth, but duly noted," he mused to himself. "Care to teach me the basics?"

"I'm afraid a whole night isn't nearly enough to explain to you how to operate a gamma ray telescope. It took me over three years to learn everything." She walked into the room and pulled up a chair. "Mind if I join you?"

"By all means, Dr. ," he teased.

She laughed nervously as she tried to hide her blush. "Please. I only recently got my degree matriculated."

"Congratulations are in order, regardless, but I assume this," he gestured towards the telescope, "is your idea of an overpriced bottle of champagne?"

"Perceptive as ever, Mitsuya-san." She started typing in her credentials into the system and started adjusting the dials. "I would begin my explanation here, but it seems like you're figuring it out without me."

"Call it a talent, I suppose. I pick things up rather quickly."

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

"It's innate. I've always seen the world in numbers. Makes a math PhD easy if everything you look at turns into numbers, right?"

Her tired giggle echoed through the room. "Synesthesia?"

He shook his head. "Years of tennis."

"Tennis?"

He chuckled. "It's been more than a decade since I last played. My body is severely out of shape from the years of graduate school."

She was rather intrigued at this sudden revelation. "Were you any good?"

"I was selected to be on the U-17 team back in my high school days, though I was the main strategist and not an active player."

"Sounds like you." She paused at a screen for entering some coordinates. "Any particular requests?"

Mitsuya thought about it for a second. "Is Hoag's Object visible this time of year?"

snorted. "It looks the best during mid-July when Serpens is best seen, though I am rather intrigued by your choice, Mitsuya-san. Geometric topology?"

He nodded as a small grin began to grow on his face. "For an astronomer, you know quite a bit about advanced topics in mathematics."

"Math and physics are connected, as you may know. Newton practically invented an entire field just to explain physics."

"So, you don't believe Leibniz discovered calculus. Interesting stance on the controversy, -san."

"Personally, I'm more of a 'they discovered calculus independently of each other' believer. That's what makes mathematics so interesting."

The two ended up chatting away about the relation between modern mathematics and astrophysics and recent advancements in the fields. Before they knew it, daylight had arrived. They barely spent any time observing the stars that night because they were too focused on the spark between each other. For once in either of their lives, they found someone who could understand them and keep up with the conversation.

sighed. "How boring for daylight to crack. The conversation was just getting interesting."

Mitsuya pushed his glasses up his face. "A shame."

She let out a yawn. "Same time next week?"

A warm smile. "Did you even have to ask?"

The two intellectuals would make it a habit of meeting in the observatory every Friday night to chat about more profound topics that they could never really speak about with others. Having something to look forward to every week made the fellowship pass faster for Mitsuya. He no longer desired to try and make non-research related conversations with his colleagues. They would often bring food to celebrate getting through another week as they discussed a topic that would bore anyone who wasn't at least mildly rounded in the subjects they were passionate about. More often than not, the discussions would often lead to questions about existentialism. Today was no different from their other meetings, as they spoke about the concept of time over lukewarm fried chicken and cold potato salad.

She was always the first to lead into the discussion. "Who do you think came up with the concept of time, Mitsuya-san?"

"Probably the same person who was able to see the Big Bang happen before their very eyes," he mused.

"Who is observing us, if not a God themselves? Surely, someone must be watching over this universe's frame of reference."

He leaned forward and stuffed a piece of potato in his mouth. "What if there is no observer?"

"What a terrifying, yet extremely interesting and entirely plausible outcome." She set her eating utensil down. "Do you believe?"

"In a God? No. In the stars? Yes."

"You are the last person I would expect to buy into that astrology stuff."

"You misunderstand me, -san." He took a sip from his hours-old cup of black coffee. "I don't have a reason to believe that there is some omnipotent being watching over us, but I know for a fact that we are all born with stars right above us. Our existence can be traced back to a very specific moment of time if we knew the velocity and position of every star in the universe. Surely, that snapshot of the universe must count for something."

"Ah, but Heisenberg said something against knowing both velocity and position at the same time. He was rather uncertain about those two things."

He rolled his eyes at her groan-inducing bad joke. "I'm not sure if what's out there counts as subatomic."

"It might as well be subatomic if we need this several trillion yen contraption to be able to see them," she laughed as she slapped the table on which the computer controlling the telescope sits. "All about that frame of reference."

"You make a very valid point," he agreed. "What terrifies you, -san?"

"I mean, aside from spiders and needles, not much, other than boredom and dying before my dream is fulfilled."

"Boredom?"

"Do you not fear being left alone with nothing but your own thoughts and nothing to occupy yourself with?"

He shook his head. "There are other things I fear that I believe are far worse than boredom."

She looked at his sleep-deprived, soft olive eyes. "What do you fear?"

"Love."

She blinked twice.

"What could be more terrifying than an emotion that cannot be explained? I've seen so many strange things people do because of it, yet we, as humanity, still haven't figured out why."

"So you fear the irrationality of it."

"I fear it as a whole."

"Do you fear it enough to stop yourself from falling in love?"

He smiled. "That's what terrifies me the most, but I don't think I can stop myself when I do."

"Have you ever been in love, Mitsuya-san?"

"Never."

"I thought so."

A long silence began, as the two continued to eat and watch the stars twinkle on the screen. It was neither uncomfortable nor strange. These periods would often happen when they ran out of ideas to continue. They never seemed to mind and just enjoyed the moment for what it was. It was a strange friendship to anyone who was observing, but to them, it was arguably their first genuine friendship. Neither of them had to mince their words in order to be understood. It was a liberating feeling.

Before they knew it, two years had passed by without much resistance. Mitsuya and his new friend found the passage of time rather amusing, considering neither of them really enjoyed what they were researching by that point. Now that there was only a year left before their respective fellowships ended, the search for a new job had begun. As they celebrated their work anniversary and their uncertain futures, the two began to muse about how bleak, yet hopeful they were.

"Has the academic job market depressed you yet, Akuto-san?" she laughed.

"Who has time to be depressed when the application for every tenure-track professorship is a thousand pages long?" he pointed out.

"Hah! Not nearly as awful as the application to be an astronaut."

The two clinked their cheap sparkling wine-filled coffee mugs together and each took a gulp.

"Which sad sacks of money and mental health crises are looking for a mathematics professor that specializes in whatever it was that you did your PhD in?"

"Oh you know," he reached for the bottle and topped off his cup, "just every single private university in this country."

"Really? Did the public ones run out of money?"

He chuckled. "Hokudai, but is one of the seven imperial universities really going to hire someone with only one postdoc's worth of experience?"

"95 percent chance, considering next to no one gets a postdoc here without an already extensive CV," she complimented.

"Same odds as you getting accepted into the formal training program."

"And yet, here we are, moping around late at night about our impossibly good odds in front of a priceless oversized lens," she sighed. "I'm sure there are millions out there, wishing that they were in our positions."

"Yes, but I doubt those same people wouldn't even dream of suffering through all those years of schooling," he lamented.

"Amen to that, my friend." She drank all of the contents in her mug. "Enough about our job prospects. Let's discuss something less mundane."

"What haven't we discussed already? I feel like we're running out of ideas."

"Surely, you're curious about more than just the meaning to this universe and its existence."

"Yes, I am rather curious about the person I have been speaking to this entire time about it," he laughed. "Though, we should skip over all of the personal details and everything that can be found in the agency's system."

"I expected nothing less from the great Mitsuya Akuto. Boundaries really are the bane of your existence."

"Much like they are the bane of topological space." He set his mug down on the table. "What is the best place to view the stars?"

"Stonehenge or Benatky nad Jizerou. If we're talking about this country... Wakkanai?"

"Northernmost point of this country? I was expecting the mountain ranges in Gifu."

"Light pollution is practically non-existent in a town that far north. You should see how stunning the aurora borealis is in winter." She paused to fill up her cup once again. "Perhaps if you accept the position at Hokudai, I'll take you there."

"It will have to wait until after you get out of your two year voluntary isolation, -san," he smiled.

"It's a date, then."

The agency held a small party to celebrate the end of his fellowship, though it didn't seem to last long due to everyone's intolerance to alcohol. Mitsuya and were the only two who were still conscious after an hour of heavy drinking, in which neither party had bothered to consume any. Rather than hang out in an artificially lit room with their passed out colleagues that smell strongly of cheap liquor, the two wandered off towards the same observatory they had first met in. It was a perfectly clear mid-December night. The full moon casted a soft blue glow into the dark room, illuminating the space in a rather dream-like scene. The two wasted no time tinkering around with the telescope to stare off into the cosmos above.

"You know, I think I'm going to miss it here," he lamented. "It's nice to be away from civilization in a mountain with nothing but pure mathematics to keep you occupied."

"Spoken like a true mathematician, Akuto-san," she laughed. "Congratulations on skipping the entire tenure-track process. Very impressive, to say the least."

"And congratulations to you for getting accepted into formal training. Seems like we're both going to be starting something new in our lives."

"Exciting, yet terrifying," she smiled as she started typing in coordinates into the computer. "Any requests for tonight?"

"Hoag's Object. I hear Serpens is particularly exciting to look at, especially during this time of year."

She gave him an amused look before turning back towards the terminal. "Interesting choice. I wonder who gave you that idea."

He chuckled. "A little star once told me about it."

After calibrating the instrument, the two sat back in their respective chairs and just watched the large screen pan around the ring galaxy in silence. Neither of them felt that they needed to speak to communicate. Mitsuya realized that, above all else, he would miss these secret late night meetups the most. He would miss the conversations with someone who was actually able to keep up with him. He would miss being able to learn something from someone else that he was no expert in. Most of all, he would miss just being able to work with someone as brilliant and engaging as .

She decided to break the long, yet comfortable silence. "Say, Akuto-san, lend me your ear for a second."

He turned his head to look at her. "Of course. What do you wish to speak about?"

"The future."

"What a vast topic indeed."

"The next two years will be isolating, to say the least. Formal training involves steeling myself to be alone for very long periods of time with no communication with anyone."

"Humans are social creatures, after all. We fear being alone with our own thoughts and being bored."

"Amen to that," she sighed. "I wasn't afraid of the prospects of being alone for the next two years before, but these past few years are making me second guess that."

"Oh? What's making you feel uncertain?"

"You, of course."

"Me?"

She nodded. "You're the first person who I didn't think was an absolute idiot when we met for the first time. That's hard to do."

"I thank you for the kind compliment, -san," he laughed. "You'll miss our stimulating conversations, correct?"

She nodded. "Much like you will, Akuto-san."

"You know me well," he admitted. "The next two years will pass by. Whether they pass by painfully or in the blink of an eye all depends on relativity."

"I hope the observer isn't cruel, then."

"Putting your blind faith in the observer? Interesting."

"Illogical, yes, but so is anxiety."

Mitsuya wrapped his arm around her. "Sometimes, the most logical thing is to just accept that our illogical thoughts and irrational feelings happen despite what we know. That's our fault as humans."

She pulled him closer to her. "What fickle creatures we are, then."

It had been almost two years since he accepted and adjusted to his position as a tenured professor at Hokkaido University. Though his fascination with numbers didn't fade, his life felt duller than before. Every night, he would look to the sky, but could only see an empty void. The numbers he used to see around him everywhere he went had slowly begun to disappear. There was something to be said about a routine that was somehow satisfying, yet devoid of all soul. It was depressing, yet this was the reality he chose to live in.

One day, out of the blue, he had received a phone call while sitting in his office, grading papers.

"Hokudai Department of Math. Professor Mitsuya speaking."

"Using your title finally, Akuto-san?"

Even after losing contact, he still remembered the distinct intonations in her voice. "Ah, -san. It's been a while."

"It sure has." A pause. "Listen, are you busy shortly after New Year's? I'm heading up towards Wakkanai for some star gazing. I'll be passing through Sapporo, so maybe we could catch up?"

"The best place to see the aurora borealis?"

"You remember?"

"May I join you, then?"

"Akuto-san, you can't possibly-"

"I haven't been able to see it ever since I moved to Sapporo. Too much light pollution," he admitted. "It would only make sense for me to go if there was someone there with a brain that can be picked for astronomical information."

A warm laugh. "Alright then. I have something to do, so we'll discuss logistics later, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan, -san."

"Great! I'll call you later, then."

Mitsuya continued to listen until hung up.

When the time came, showed up at the campus with a blindfold and a cheerful demeanour. Without even questioning it, Mitsuya removed his glasses and donned the cover over his eyes. The two got into her run-down sedan and began to make their journey up north.

"Nice to see you again," he joked. "The blindfold might be a bit premature if this is going to be a seven hour trip up."

"The one thing I don't miss is your dry sense of humour," she chuckled.

"I do miss you as well," he confessed.

The long drive up was rather lively, as the two spent the time catching up on the advancements in their respective fields during the last two years. Neither of them seemed to speak about their new lives, but it was never a topic they really spoke about either. Mitsuya could feel the same intellectual spark once again. Before they knew it, the snow-covered Wakkanai was in front of them. The salty ocean air and bone-chilling wind were the only things Mitsuya could recognize without his vision.

led the two to a secluded spot with a telescope in tow. Once they stopped, she nudged him to remove it. "This is it."

He slipped off the cloth covering his eyes and took his glasses out of his coat pocket to slip back on. He was speechless upon laying eyes on the colourful disturbance of the magnetosphere. The sky was illuminated with an ethereal green glow and millions of tiny, twinkling stars. The ocean beneath their feet was as dark as it was deep, yet, it reflected the sky as if it was a giant mirror. The treacherous waves glowed slightly with the agitation of the bioluminescent microorganisms floating on the surface. It wasn't even a scene out of a dream; it was just the beauty of nature.

"This spot, in particular, is a secret. Try not to let the rest of humanity find it."

"It wouldn't be much of a secret, then."

She laughed as she set up the telescope and began to calibrate it. "It might not be a trillion yen gamma ray telescope, but take a gander through it."

He placed his eye over the eyepiece. "The visible spectrum is so miniscule, yet I can't help but be impressed by the sight."

A soft smile grew on her face as she looked up. "Akuto-san, do you see that thin line in the distance?"

He squinted his eyes to see if he could faintly make out the line before looking up at her. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can see it, -san."

She made a few adjustments to the telescope. "Look now. It should be visible with this."

He placed his eyes over the eyepiece again. In the sky, just above the aurora was a faint line. "I see something. It's cutting through the northern lights, right?"

"Correct. That's the Karman Line."

"The division between Earth and outer space," he realized.

She looked back up at the twinkling abyss above them. "One hundred kilometres above sea level is what legally defines the boundaries of this planet, and yet, you never really stop to think about it. I'm surprised you can even see it right now, considering it's almost always invisible to the naked eye."

Mitsuya couldn't stop looking at the arbitrary boundary through the telescope. "It's so far and so faint."

"It's my dream to cross that line some day, Akuto-san. I want to see what's on the other side of it."

He turned to look at her. She was positively glowing with passion. "Truly?"

"Yes, truly." She closed her eyes as she began to imagine herself crossing the boundary. "Thanks to JAXA, it'll only be another four months until my dream can come true."

"How exciting, yet sad."

She looked at him, confused. "Why sad?"

"It must be a little disheartening to leave behind everyone you know on this planet to cross the boundary into the unknown."

She smiled. "Frankly speaking, you're the only person I'd be leaving behind, Akuto-san. My family has been dead for a very long time and I don't have much in terms of friends."

"Then," he took her hands in his, "at least be sad for me. Even if it's just a little."

She reached up to gently caress his face. "Of course I'll be sad for you, Akuto-san. I wish I could share the moment I cross the Karman Line with you. You're the only person who could possibly understand the significance of it. There's no one else I would rather share that joy with than you."

"-san..."

The silence that grew between the two was different from all of the other times. It was uncomfortable. They weren't sure what to say to each other for once and they didn't like the lack of noise this time. For the first time in their friendship, neither of them could rationally explain their feelings.

Days before the launch, Mitsuya spent time with the soon-to-be-orbiting astronaut before she began her year-long tenure on the space station above. It was the first time since that night and also the last time they'd see each other before the journey.

"The heat death doesn't seem so intimidating when you experience the cold of space," he joked.

"Aerogel is a miracle of chemistry itself," she sighed.

The conversation between the two was stifling and awkward. It didn't have the same flow to it anymore. They both knew they had something on their minds and they knew each other long enough to know it was about each other.

Mitsuya pulled out a small box and handed it to her. "For you. For the record-"

"'-it's not a marriage proposal' is what you wanted to say," she said as she finished his thought. opened the box, revealing a simple silver band with dark blue sapphires set into it. "This is a bit much for a gift from a friend, Akuto-san."

"Yes..." His voice trailed off. "A friend."

She gave him a confused look. "Akuto-san?"

"Stay." He grabbed a hold of her hand. "Please."

"Akuto-san..."

Mitsuya wasn't sure why he even said that. Rather than sticking around to find out, he abruptly stood up and left her without another word. never bothered to reach out after that meeting.

On the day of the launch, he couldn't bear to be at the site and opted to watch from his hotel TV instead. He checked her horoscope for the day and saw that today was her particular sign's lucky day. He prayed at the shrine earlier that morning. He knew very well that everything he was doing today was rooted in his irrational emotions, rather than factual evidence. Still, nothing he seemed to do would alleviate the anxiety he was feeling.

The launch initiated without a hitch. The entire island nation watched as years of engineering and science was being propelled upwards at escape velocity, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from the view of the cameras. Mitsuya looked out the window of his room and could faintly see the spacecraft's fuel being expelled in the distant sky. was on her way towards her dream. The same dream Mitsuya selfishly tried to stop her from realizing. He knew he was in the wrong, but he wasn't sure why he felt so compelled to ask her to stay.

Moments after the light faded into the sky, a large flash appeared in its place. He knew the craft wasn't supposed to do that. His blood ran cold and he ran out of his hotel room without a second thought.

The launch site was full of chaos as debris rained down from the sky. It was almost exactly like that night, only the stars were hiding and the glow was burning red. Reality and logic had not set in for him as he watched the flames take away the remnants of the craft before his eyes. He couldn't take his eyes off of the sky as someone dragged him away from the site and he couldn't stop staring at the same sky for days to come.

When the investigation report came in, Mitsuya didn't bother to read into the cause. He scanned the summary to see how high the craft got. Seven minutes and twenty three seconds after launch, just one hundred twenty thousand kilometres above the surface of the Earth, the worst recorded spaceflight-related accident since Soyuz 11 occured.

was able to realize her dream. She was able to cross the Karman Line.

By some miracle, they were able to recover something to hold a closed-casket funeral for all of the crew members. At the memorial, 's former supervisor pulled Mitsuya aside. They handed the bespectacled man a plastic bag with a scorched necklace chain and an oxidized ring hanging off of it. It was recovered from what remained. He wasn't sure what to say or how to react, other than to take it and wear it around his own neck.

There were no tears shed. There was no anger. There was no denial. There was nothing. Time just passed. The numbers disappeared. His world was just devoid of all meaning. Every now and then, he would stare at the sky for an uncomfortable amount of time before going back to his life.

Decades had passed. Age had crept up on him quicker than most of his colleagues. His career as an academic was decorated and filled with hundreds of publications, awards and honours. He had changed his field from an obscure form of statistics to the philosophy of mathematics all in the pursuit of that same spark he once felt. He desperately searched for someone who could make him feel that exact same feeling once again. He clung onto that dream to find someone who could recreate that stimulating discussion he so desperately desired.

In a seminar on the existence of an equation that explains the universe, Mitsuya started off the lecture by asking his audience what their biggest fears were. The lecture hall was filled with awkward coughs as everyone tried to pass off the opportunity to speak. One person raised their hand to speak.

"Professor, what are you scared of?"

Mitsuya felt himself reach up towards the chain around his neck, feeling the ring sitting on it with his calloused fingertips. He hesitated to answer, but sighed as he admitted defeat.

"Me? I fear love."