TORADORA: TURNS & TWIST!

The sounds of summer cicadas filled the air as Ryuuji made his way to the train station. The heat from the sun beat down on him, but all he could think about was one thing: Taiga. She had finally returned.

After weeks of silence, no texts, no calls, not even a postcard, she was coming back. Ryuuji wasn't sure what he would say when he saw her again. He wasn't even sure how he felt. He'd imagined this moment so many times, but now, as the reality of it approached, his thoughts felt jumbled.

"Idiot," he muttered to himself. "Why are you so nervous? It's just Taiga."

But no matter how much he tried to calm himself, his heart raced. He'd pictured the reunion countless times—each more ridiculous than the last.

In one overly dramatic scenario, he'd imagined Taiga running toward him in slow motion, her hair blowing in the wind like a scene from a sappy romance drama. Ryuuji would catch her in his arms, they'd spin around, and sparkles would fill the air as she softly whispered, "I've missed you so much, Ryuuji." It was perfect—way too perfect.

Then there was the version where everything went terribly wrong. Taiga stepped off the train, only to trip on her shoelaces, launching herself into Ryuuji's arms, but not in a cute way. Instead, they both tumbled down the station's steps, crashing into a food stall, and somehow ending up covered in octopus balls. People around them laughed, pointing and taking pictures. Not ideal.

In one particularly confusing version, Ryuuji couldn't even understand what was happening. Taiga stepped off the train, only to reveal…she had amnesia ! She didn't remember him at all and asked him, "Who are you again?" Crushing.

And, of course, there was the heartbreaking version —Taiga walked past him, hand-in-hand with some ridiculously good-looking guy. His heart shattered as she turned, gave Ryuuji a brief nod, and simply said, "Goodbye." Devastation.

Ryuuji shook his head to clear away the silly thoughts. "Get a grip, you idiot." He adjusted his collar and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The train was supposed to arrive any minute now.

"She'll probably punch me the moment she sees me. Call me stupid for worrying so much. And then we'll go back to being… whatever it is we are."

But Ryuuji knew that things had changed. After everything they had been through—the confessions, the plans to run away, the moments of vulnerability—they couldn't just go back to how things were. They were more than friends now. Weren't they?

Just then, the sound of screeching brakes signaled the train's arrival. Ryuuji's grip tightened on the handle of his bag as he scanned the doors. One by one, passengers began to stream out.

And then, he saw her.

Taiga.

She was exactly as he remembered. Short, with her long brown hair cascading down her back, and that familiar sharp expression in her eyes. But something was different. She looked… softer. Almost hesitant.

Taiga's eyes met Ryuuji's, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The crowd continued to flow around them, but all Ryuuji could see was her. His heart felt like it had skipped a beat.

Then, with a deep breath, Taiga broke into a small smile and took a step forward. Ryuuji's feet moved automatically, meeting her halfway. They stood there, staring at each other, unsure of what to say.

"You're late," Ryuuji said, finally breaking the silence, though his voice came out softer than he intended.

Taiga huffed, crossing her arms. "What kind of greeting is that? You're supposed to say 'I missed you,' or 'Welcome back, Taiga!'"

Ryuuji smirked. "Well, maybe if you'd called more often, I'd be happier to see you."

For a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. The banter, the teasing—it was the same dynamic they had always shared. But there was something unspoken between them, an invisible thread pulling them closer.

Taiga looked up at him, her expression softening. "Ryuuji… I'm home."

The simple words hit him harder than he expected. Home. After everything they had been through, she had come back. And this time, it felt real.

Without thinking, Ryuuji reached out and gently took her hand. Taiga didn't pull away. Instead, she squeezed his hand back, her small fingers fitting perfectly between his.

"Welcome back, Palmtop," Ryuuji whispered.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right. Taiga was home. And this time, they weren't just friends anymore.

But in the depths of Taiga's eyes, a flicker of hesitation lingered—something she hadn't said, something she wasn't ready to say. For a brief second, Ryuuji saw it—fear? Sadness? Whatever it was, it passed as quickly as it came, leaving him with the unsettling feeling that Taiga was hiding something that could change everything ...