Hokuto's Dilemma

Sniff, sniff.

The little girl sat right next to Hokuto, sniffling softly. She held a dark-colored puzzle piece in her small hand, gazing down at the starry sky spread across the floor with a lost expression.

Sniff, um . . . wh-where does this go . . .

Her large eyes were brimming with tears, and her fine hair was damp from crying. Small teardrops had spotted her sky-blue blouse and canola-yellow skirt, and with her eyebrows drawn together in distress, she looked so fragile as she desperately searched for where to place the piece.

Hokuto extended his index finger.

That's a piece of the Big Dipper, so it probably goes around here.

He traced a circle with his fingertip over the puzzle, and she turned her teary eyes toward him.

The Big . . . Dipper . . . ?

She tilted her head.

Her big eyes stared up at him intently from below, making his heart race.

Yeah, this ladle-shaped constellation is called the Big Dipper. There should be seven stars in total.

One, two, three.

He counted the stars aloud. The little girl followed along, moving her lips quietly to match his voice.

One, two, three . . .

And then . . .

They whispered together, and the little girl carefully fit the dark piece with its single twinkling star into the edge of the Big Dipper's ladle.

The piece fit perfectly. Her white cheeks, wet with tears and rain, gradually flushed pink. Her large eyes sparkled, and her pink lips bloomed like spring flowers. Hokuto watched it all with the same feeling as biting into a ripe strawberry.

Fresh and sweet-and-sour.

He didn't really understand what to call that emotion, having only just turned seven . . .

Outside the window, soft rain was falling.

Inside the children's center, where only two children remained, it was quiet, peaceful, and gentle.

Nothing was sad.

He decided he would protect this timid crybaby of a little girl from then on.

That year, spring came late.

On that April day when he decided to become the worst scum in the world, Hokuto started dating an older girl.

She was a third-year student, one grade above Hokuto.

I got up at four in the morning to make lunch for you, Hokuto. Let's eat it together outside.

During lunch break, she visited Hokuto's classroom carrying an impressive furoshiki-wrapped bundle.

This beautiful upperclassman, whose glossy black hair cascaded gracefully from her slender shoulders, was Saoko Saeki—a.k.a., the Chemistry Lab Beauty.

She was the chemistry club's only member, the daughter of a long-established traditional sweets shop, and a well-known eccentric who constantly carried traditional sweets with her and offered them to people for tasting.

Even so, with her lustrous jet-black eyes, porcelain-white skin, and gracefully feminine figure, she was undeniably a perfect beauty.

He sat side by side with Saoko on the bench under the cherry blossom tree growing on the school grounds.

This romantic spot, where pale pink cherry blossoms fluttered down, was called the couples' bench. It was a special seat reserved only for officially recognized couples.

In other words, if a boy and girl sat on this bench, it meant they were a couple.

Other students who saw Hokuto and Saoko looked obviously shocked.

Saoko's sitting at the couples' bench with some kinda-handsome guy, and they've got a three-tiered lunch box spread out!

They started making a commotion.

Wait, is Saoko actually dating that sorta-handsome guy?! No way!

Oh my god, I have to text everyone! Saoko's with that mini-hottie—

Hokuto kept hearing those voices one after another, and he could feel their stares piercing into him.

The quiet school grounds were definitely getting more and more crowded and lively—it wasn't his imagination. Students who had heard the spreading rumors must have come all the way outside to confirm it for themselves.

Hokuto felt restless.

What was with all these backhanded compliments about him that had been flying around—"sorta handsome," "kinda handsome," "handsome if you look at him right"?

Last month, at the end of the third term when Hokuto was still a first-year student, he had also drawn attention because of an incident. But back then, everyone avoided making eye contact with him, and the whispered voices he heard were—

That guy's bad news, isn't he?

Hokuto's always so quiet . . . You can't tell what he's thinking, so he's kind of scary, right?

They seemed to be afraid of Hokuto.

But now he was being stared at so openly, with people saying whatever they wanted about him being "sorta" this and "kinda" that, making him unbearably uncomfortable.

Saoko, on the other hand, wore a cool expression as if she couldn't hear all the chatter, methodically arranging the three-tiered lunch box one tier at a time on the bench.

The first tier was lined with beautifully colorful Japanese side dishes that looked like they'd been specially ordered from a high-end restaurant. The second tier featured delicate egg-wrapped chakin sushi and golden inari sushi spread out like a spring flower field. The third tier contained sakura mochi and three-colored dango on bamboo skewers—an elaborate lunch that made you want to point out that this definitely wasn't what high school students normally ate during lunch break.

Go ahead and eat, Hokuto. There's enough for two, so take whatever you like. Or would you prefer I feed you?

She said this with a completely straight face.

No, that's a bit . . . I mean, there's enough for four people here.

When it's handmade by a beloved girlfriend, any high school boy would think it's still not enough no matter how much he eats.

The word love echoed in his mind.

When she declared it so boldly, he couldn't find the words to respond and his voice caught in his throat.

How did things end up like this . . . ?

Honestly, even Hokuto didn't really understand.

He was supposed to become a selfish, cold-hearted man—become the worst scum. He'd even thought it would be fine if he did something to get expelled, but here he was living out some romantic comedy with a beautiful upperclassman under a cherry blossom tree.

Even that beginning in the chemistry room was completely confusing . . .

Anyway, staying here would just make him a spectacle.

Isn't the wind a bit cold?

You're right—this year's been so cold that even the cherry blossoms bloomed late. Thanks to that, we can enjoy both my beautiful self and the cherry blossoms while savoring a homemade lunch.

Everyone's staring at us . . .

His voice dropped to a mutter.

Of course they are. I'm gorgeous, and I'm your girlfriend.

Saoko spoke without a trace of embarrassment, as if stating the obvious.

Besides, this is the school's premier couple spot. You could call this our wedding reception—an announcement to all the students that our hearts have beautifully united and we've become the perfect lovey-dovey couple.

Is that really something you announce to the entire student body? That's definitely not normal.

Oh my, you brought lunch too, Hokuto. Tamagoyaki, chicken soboro rice, broccoli, fried chicken . . . a lineup that hits all the right notes. Does your mother pack you lunch every day?

Saoko peered at Hokuto's lunch, her voice carrying a hint of disappointment.

No, I make my own lunch . . . I just randomly throw in leftovers and frozen food.

Until his father remarried last year, it had been just the two of them. Since his father's wife was expecting a baby this month, he figured he should keep handling the things he could do himself, just like always.

The strong, silent type who can actually cook? That earns major points. I'm a little charmed right now.

Saoko's face remained completely straight and expressionless throughout—she didn't look charmed in the slightest.

May I try some of your homemade cooking, Hokuto?

Uh, sure . . . But I think your lunch is way more elaborate and definitely tastes better, Saoko-san.

No need to be so formal. You speak so casually to me despite me being your upperclassman, yet you're too shy to simply call me "Saoko"—how adorable!

She narrowed her eyes as she said "adorable."

Yes, you're absolutely right that I'm the better cook, but that's fine. In this case, the important thing is that it's my boyfriend's handmade cooking.

She picked up a piece of tamagoyaki from Hokuto's lunch box with her slender fingers.

She took an elegant bite.

Dashimaki tamagoyaki, I see . . . We seem to have compatible tastes, Hokuto. I've never gotten along with people who like sweet tamagoyaki.

She spoke as if stating another profound truth.

That was delicious. The tamagoyaki has a straightforward, honest flavor that's very much like you, Hokuto—not bad at all. Now please try mine.

Saoko placed her neatly rolled tamagoyaki on the lid of the tiered box and offered it to him.

A pale pink petal fluttered down next to the little yellow egg roll.

Thanks . . .

He picked up the tamagoyaki with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth.

A mellow flavor gently spread across his tongue.

How is it?

It's delicious . . .

His honest reaction slipped out, and Saoko looked proud, her nose twitching just slightly as she narrowed her bright eyes lovingly.

Of course it is.

Just then, the surrounding students started murmuring.

Hoku!

An anxious voice called out, and a petite girl came running, out of breath.

She was a girl with an innocent, pure appearance, her thin, soft-looking hair tied in two braids.

Her delicate shoulders heaved as she panted, her eyebrows drawn together in distress, looking at Hokuto with eyes like an abandoned puppy.

I heard that Hoku was at the couples' spot in the backyard . . . eating lunch with upperclassman Saoko . . .

Her eyebrows drooped, looking like she was about to cry, and Hokuto felt a sharp pain in his chest as if pierced by an arrow.

He'd always thought since childhood that he didn't want to see her make that face—that was still Hokuto's only wish—but the small girl in front of him looked so sad, and the pain in his chest deepened.

As Hokuto's face went rigid and he found himself unable to speak, a calm voice—one that could only be called brazen—asked a question.

Hokuto, who is this?

The girl flinched.

She was such a timid, shy child that she must have been frightened by the direct stare of a beautiful, confident upperclassman like Saoko. The old Hokuto would have immediately stood up from the bench and positioned himself protectively beside her. But instead, he remained seated, wore an annoyed expression, and spoke curtly.

Haru Mitsuizumi, same grade as me. We went to the same children's center in elementary school. Childhood friend, I guess . . . something like that.

Haru gripped her uniform skirt tightly. Without Hokuto beside her to protect her, she couldn't grab onto his sleeve like she usually did.

Always—always—Haru would stay beside Hokuto or behind him, gripping his clothes just a little, as if she knew that was the safest place in the world.

But now, being spoken to in such a dismissive, cold manner with that annoyed expression, she probably didn't know what to do.

Saoko delivered the finishing blow to the bewildered Haru.

Oh, I see, so you're Hokuto's childhood friend. Nice to meet you, I'm Saoko Saeki, Hokuto's girlfriend. You can call me the Chemistry Lab Beauty if you'd like.

Haru's eyes went wide.

Ch-Chemistry Lab . . . ?

She was probably surprised that someone would call themselves a beauty so boldly. But more than that, she was severely shocked by the words Saoko had proudly spoken.

Hokuto's girlfriend.

Hokuto could feel how deeply those words had shocked her, and his head began to throb.

Haru's fingers gripping her skirt tightened again, creating wrinkles.

S-since . . . when have you been dating?

Asked in a sad, reproachful voice, and Hokuto felt his body stiffen like stone as he answered even more curtly.

Since yesterday.

Yesterday?

Haru's shoulders twitched, and her large eyes filled with confusion.

Since . . . yesterday?

He'd messed up by saying "yesterday," and Hokuto almost grimaced.

He should have said something like "since at least the third term of our first year." That would have added credibility to the cruel way he'd treated Haru yesterday.

As expected, Haru didn't seem convinced.

Since yesterday . . . that means after what happened, right? This is weird, Hoku.

She was absolutely right, but if he corrected himself now, it would seem even more suspicious. So he replied coldly.

It's my freedom to date whoever I want, whenever I want.

Haru gasped softly and her eyes grew moist. Just then, Saoko cut in.

That's right, yesterday after school, I fell in love at first sight with Hokuto's melancholy profile in the chemistry lab. Meanwhile, Hokuto also fell in love with me, the renowned Chemistry Lab Beauty, and that's how our relationship began.

But . . . that's . . .

Haru looked like she was about to cry, and Hokuto wished this heart-wrenching exchange would end as soon as possible.

If tears started streaming from Haru's eyes, he would want to stand up and shield her.

So in other words, I'm the girlfriend of Hokuto Kageyama, whom you're currently pestering with questions. Honestly, as his girlfriend, I find your behavior quite unpleasant.

Haru's cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment.

Her fingers gripping her skirt trembled weakly.

Even so, she seemed to muster all her courage, her thin braids swaying as she turned her face toward Hokuto.

It's a lie, isn't it, Hoku?

How rude of you to call it a lie. What makes you think you can say such a thing?

Haru's voice trembled as she tried her best to sound strong.

Because Saoko is—she's not the type you said you liked.

My type? Did I talk about that?

As Hokuto's mind pondered this, he remembered a seemingly trivial conversation.

That's quite bold of you to say. Are you claiming to know Hokuto's preferences?

H-Hoku told me he likes girls with short hair who are energetic and good at sports . . .

What kind of girl is your type, Hoku?

It might have been a year ago, or maybe even earlier. They were walking home from school, moving slowly to match Haru's pace under a cloudy sky that looked like it might rain, when Haru had suddenly turned hopeful eyes toward Hokuto and asked him that question.

What's with that, all of a sudden?

I just want to know. So, what kind of girl do you like?

Haru, with her pink lips curved in a slight smile and her bright eyes staring up at him, was so dazzling that he quietly looked away and answered curtly.

Someone with short hair . . . energetic, and good at sports, I guess.

I see . . . so that's your type . . .

Haru was visibly dejected.

Small and gentle Haru had been terrible at physical education since elementary school.

She came in last in races, couldn't jump over even the lowest vaulting box, and couldn't do pull-ups. In ball games, she'd get hit in the face and fall over. Her serves and shots never went in.

When Haru was kept after school, sniffling and crying, Hokuto would encourage her and help with her training.

I'll teach you.

This had been Hokuto's role for a long time, and he had never once felt it was troublesome or bothersome.

That was a position Hokuto absolutely never wanted to give up, and yet Haru would always respond apologetically.

Sorry, Hoku.

She would apologize with her eyebrows drawn together in distress.

And this time was no different.

Hoku likes . . . girls who are good at sports . . .

It's fine, it's okay . . .

Even without looking, he knew. Haru's eyebrows were surely drawn together, drooping.

S-Saoko has straight, beautiful, silky black hair that's so long . . . much longer than mine . . . She doesn't have short hair . . . and since she's in the chemistry club, she's not athletic—she's academic . . .

Haru planted her feet firmly despite her small frame, saying these things in a desperate voice. Meanwhile, Saoko sat on the bench with her knees neatly aligned and spoke without so much as raising an eyebrow.

You don't understand, Haru. When you're a beauty of my caliber, superficial details like short or long hair don't matter. I shine without needing to rely on hairstyles. Besides, I've always gotten A's in physical education. I'd rather you didn't judge based on appearance and stereotypes. Though Haru, you do look exactly like someone who's bad at sports.

Ugh.

You couldn't jump the vaulting box and had to stay after school, didn't you?

Uh.

You couldn't do pull-ups and your hands were covered in blisters, weren't they?

Sigh.

Your volleyball serves never went in and your teammates gave you dirty looks, didn't they?

Uhhhhh.

Haru's eyebrows drooped more and more, and her large eyes grew moist. Each cruel word felt like a knife twisting in Hokuto's chest.

Saoko is bullying Haru too much. Is she actually a sadist?

Haru might be bad at sports, but she's good at Japanese and classical literature, she can play piano, and cats love her. Even cats that run away when I try to touch them come right up to Haru on their own and start purring.

That's because Haru is kind, and she has so many good qualities!

He desperately fought against the urge to shield Haru and say exactly that.

Haru . . . even though she can't do pull-ups or the vaulting box, she's always tried her hardest. I know . . . that Haru has real grit. And cats love her too.

In middle school, when she made an error in softball during a sports tournament . . .

We lost because of Haru.

The girls had said spitefully. He found Haru in a corner of the school building, still in her gym clothes, sniffling, and he comforted her.

Haru was a hard worker. She was fine just as she was.

Haru, with her face streaked with tears, gripped the hem of Hokuto's gym clothes.

Yeah, yeah, Hoku.

She sobbed.

If Hoku says I'm fine the way I am, then I . . . I can be okay with myself too, even though I can't do sports and don't have friends . . .

It was probably because Hokuto was coldly ignoring Haru while Saoko attacked her. Haru, on the verge of tears, tried desperately to speak up.

I-I . . . I can't do sports, but . . . I'm good with cats.

Even though Haru had said this herself, Hokuto's chest swelled and felt like it would burst.

He managed not to let it show on his face only because Saoko was there.

Oh my, cats? Well, that's certainly a lovely skill that would appeal to boys.

She said this in an exaggerated, loud voice.

But Hokuto's preference isn't for girls who are good with cats—it's for someone who's athletic, academically excellent, beautiful, and good at cooking like me. So Haru, please give us your blessing as his childhood friend.

That's right, my girlfriend is Saoko and Haru is just a childhood friend, Hokuto reminded himself firmly.

Haru's shoulders slumped completely.

Lunch break is precious time for us as a couple from different grades. Let's hurry and eat, Hokuto.

Saoko said this to Hokuto, then flashed a brilliant smile at Haru.

Haru, you should go eat with your friends in the classroom. Oh wait, I'm sorry—you seem like the type girls would dislike, so you probably don't have any friends to eat lunch with, do you?

She'd hit right where it hurt most.

This is working.

This is definitely working.

Haru had been unpopular with girls since childhood.

Boys would obviously pick on Haru and make her cry, but girls would whisper cruel things about her and exclude her from their groups.

Hoku . . . why are girls so mean to me?

Boys are scary too, but . . . I hate girls too . . .

She had said such things with her big eyes full of tears, gripping the hem of Hokuto's T-shirt tightly.

Since starting high school and being able to spend lunch break freely, she had always eaten lunch with Hokuto.

That situation couldn't be good for Haru, and he wanted it to change.

He let out a sigh, holding back his stinging feelings.

Hah . . .

Then he spoke in a cold, dismissive voice.

We just became second years, so I think this is the perfect chance to make friends. I'll eat lunch with Saoko from now on, so Haru, you should go make some friends.

Haru loosened her grip on her skirt and looked down. Seeing her so obviously hurt, his chest ached.

Don't sympathize, Hokuto told himself.

Become a scumbag who callously abandons his childhood friend the moment he gets a girlfriend.

I can't be with Haru anymore!

Haru, who had been looking down, looked up with her brow furrowed in distress and spoke tentatively.

Th-then . . . maybe I should get a boyfriend too . . . and eat lunch together with him . . .

If I show any reaction now, Haru will notice!

Everything will go back to square one!

He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails nearly dug into his skin, desperately trying to keep his expression from changing.

What cruel words should a scummy childhood friend throw at her? His head throbbed as he tried to think.

My, that's a wonderful idea.

Beside him, Saoko clapped her hands together.

Haru might have trouble making female friends, but she's very cute and has a personality that appeals to boys, so she could probably get a boyfriend today if she wanted. Yes, let's do that—it's perfect. There's actually a boy who would be just right for Haru, so she should try dating him. His personality is frivolous and shallow, he seems straightforward but is actually twisted, he's troublesome and awful, a complete enemy to women—but I can guarantee he's good-looking, making him the perfect first boyfriend.

◇◇◇

Huh? Me?

It was the next day after school.

Gathered in the chemistry lab with Saoko, Hokuto, and Haru, second-year student Yohei Aiba, who had arrived last, pointed at his own face—described as idol-like—and squeaked.

Who would have thought that Saoko's recommendation would be Yohei Aiba?

Yohei's reputation around school was as high as Saoko's, who was famous as the chemistry club's eccentric. Though neither Hokuto nor Haru had ever shared a class with Yohei, he was such a conspicuous guy that they knew his face and name, and often heard rumors about him.

He was on the volleyball team, but thanks to his outstanding athletic ability, he would help out other clubs in competitions, and girls would flock to cheer him on, filling the venues with their excited cheers.

His constantly changing girlfriends were all beautiful.

His longest relationship so far had lasted eighteen days, while the shortest was just one day.

But Yohei wasn't just popular with girls—for some reason, he was also well-liked by boys, and Hokuto had seen him countless times in the hallways and schoolyard being casually approached by classmates.

Yohei! How many days with the new girlfriend?

He would cheerfully respond to these questions.

Going great so far! Wish me luck so I don't get dumped!

Hokuto had often seen this slender, handsome, brilliant male student responding so brightly.

Even the famously strict math teacher would say things like this.

Hey, Yohei. You're barely passing again. Instead of this roundabout way of avoiding remedial classes by scoring just one to five points above failing every time, why don't you just fail outright and take the remedial classes? I'll put together a special intensive program just for you.

And so on.

He didn't like the oversimplified categorization of popular versus unpopular kids, but if Hokuto—who was avoided and feared by those around him—was unpopular, then this shining boy was the epitome of popularity. If you asked a hundred people, all hundred would agree—that was Yohei Aiba.

Haru dating Yohei? It was true that Haru was just as cute as the girls Yohei had been rumored to date, but . . . she had no friends, was shy, easily frightened, got sick in crowded places, and her hobbies were piano and jigsaw puzzles—wouldn't she be completely incompatible with someone as flashy as Yohei?

What exactly was Saoko's intention?

Was this bullying directed at Haru?

If so, no matter how much of a shock treatment it was, he couldn't just stay silent. On Hokuto's left side, Haru had her eyebrows drawn together in distress, looking anxious. Her small hands kept reaching toward the hem of Hokuto's jacket, only to pull back at the last second, repeating this over and over. Seeing this made his chest tighten.

Meanwhile, on Hokuto's right side, Saoko wore a nonchalant expression.

Yes, Haru here wants to get a boyfriend now that she's become a second-year student and step up her game. I recommended Yohei as the perfect match for her. His personality is hopeless, but he's good-looking and there won't be any lingering attachments, making him perfect as a first boyfriend. Surely you wouldn't make me lose face, would you?

She was saying such things directly to Yohei himself.

Yohei paused.

That's harsh.

He frowned.

Even his frown was charming—such was the nature of popularity.

Saoko really thinks the worst of me, doesn't she?

I just have a good eye for the truth. Scum is scum.

So I'm scum, but you're still setting me up with such a cute girl.

Yohei looked at Haru with bright eyes and smiled.

Haru's eyes went wide with surprise, and she reached for the hem of Hokuto's jacket again before stopping herself and clenching her hand into a fist.

Yohei watched Haru with friendly interest, then quickly looked back at Saoko.

But sorry—I already have a girlfriend. A first-year from the swim team that I just started dating three days ago.

Hokuto had heard about this rule of Yohei's—when he was already dating someone, he would turn down any confessions. Haru seemed relieved that Yohei had declined and relaxed her shoulders.

Oh yes, I have a message from that swim team member, Mirei Isohara. She said, "Being Yohei's girlfriend makes me stand out too much, and it's complicating relationships in the club, so I'm breaking up with you. Just being able to go on one date made me super happy! Thank you very much!"

What?!

Yohei's eyes went wide.

Yesterday, after Mirei finished her club activities, I approached her and asked, "When are you planning to break up with Yohei?" She ended up confiding in me for two whole hours at the fruit parlor near the station. The swim team captain is Yohei's ex-girlfriend, and while the captain doesn't seem to mind, Mirei was still uncomfortable about it. Plus the other upperclassmen were teasing her, which was wearing her down. I told her she should break up immediately, and even offered to deliver the message for her. She said, "Really?! Please do!" and was so grateful. She even treated me to a seasonal limited strawberry parfait, saying, "Thank you for the meal!" That girl is quite calculating. Kids with strong mentality and cunning like that have incredible potential as athletes. She'll probably become the swim team's ace.

Both Hokuto and Haru listened with wide eyes to the content she delivered so smoothly with a straight face.

Yohei's shoulders sagged partway through.

Ugh . . .

He let out a sigh.

Another ex-girlfriend added to the list. She came to confess with sparkling eyes, saying she was struck by my super cool appearance during a soccer practice match and applied to this school because of it.

I found myself feeling sympathetic toward Yohei.

Even a popular, handsome guy like this gets rejected sometimes . . .

Only Saoko, who had orchestrated it all, remained calm.

But now you're happily free. There's no obstacle to dating Haru.

Well . . . it's true that my policy is to at least try dating someone if they confess when I'm free, but . . .

Yohei turned his gaze toward Haru again.

Haru flinched and hunched her shoulders, opening and closing her hands while stealing glances at Hokuto. She probably thought she was being subtle, but it was obvious to everyone that Haru wanted Hokuto to say something . . .

Yohei watched her with a puzzled expression at first, as if trying to figure something out, then with genuine interest.

Being watched by a boy like that made shy Haru even more nervous. She furrowed her brows in distress and looked at Hokuto.

Following Haru's gaze, Yohei's eyes landed on Hokuto, who had kept his mouth firmly shut, and asked casually.

So, who's this guy?

That's my boyfriend, Hokuto Kageyama. We've been dating since the day before yesterday.

Wait—so those rumors about Saoko having romantic moments with her younger boyfriend on the couples' bench were actually true?!

Yohei's expression showed the most surprise he'd displayed all day. His mouth hung open as he looked at Hokuto, then at Haru, then back at Hokuto, his gaze shifting back and forth before he tilted his head in complete confusion.

So what's the relationship between Saoko's boyfriend and Haru?

He voiced the perfectly natural question.

Hokuto's heart skipped a beat because Haru pinched the hem of his uniform jacket.

!

Since Hokuto's attitude had been cold all along, Haru—who had only been fidgeting with her hands and couldn't ask Hokuto for help as usual—furrowed her brows in distress. With her eyes downcast, she timidly pinched the very edge of Hokuto's uniform jacket with her slender fingers. It was probably a signal to Yohei.

She was desperately hoping that if she acted this way, Yohei wouldn't want to date her.

After all, there were so many girls who wanted to date Yohei that they would line up for the chance. He wouldn't bother with a girl who clearly seemed uninterested and difficult.

Haru was only pinching a tiny bit of fabric, and it would be easy for Hokuto to brush her hand away—but his body remained frozen and wouldn't move.

Hoku, I don't want this . . .

He could almost hear her weak voice.

He wanted Haru to build new relationships, and he thought it would be good for her to date someone who would truly cherish her.

Even though it would probably be heartbreaking.

But Yohei felt like too much for Haru to handle.

It would be best if Yohei turned her down himself.

Hokuto wished for the same thing as Haru.

However . . .

Yeah, then let's go out.

The school's most popular guy looked at Haru, who was clutching Hokuto's clothes, with enchanted, gentle eyes, then flashed an irresistibly radiant smile.

Then, naturally taking the hand opposite to the one pinching Hokuto's clothes, he looked at her with sweet eyes.

Nice to meet you, Haru.

Haru was clearly shocked. The strength left her fingers, and the hand that had been pinching Hokuto's clothes dropped limply.

Hokuto watched it all in a daze.

Outside the window, it seemed to have started raining, and the sound of rainfall could be heard from beyond the blackout curtains.