-12:49 PM SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2016-
Jousuke's eyes fluttered open, the soft hum of the fan above slicing through the quiet of his room.
It was already noon, sunlight pressing through the curtains in pale lines across his desk and the textbooks piled beside his bed.
He groaned softly, rolling over to grab his phone from the floor, its charging cable half-unplugged. Then, his phone vibrated. The screen glowed to life.
"1 New Message Unknown Number: I like you, a lot." the phone read.
He blinked, the words digging into the fog of sleep clinging to his mind.
"Huh...?" he thought to himself.
He scrolled up, but there was nothing else. Just that single, honest message. A single confession typed in plain letters, delivered without hesitation.
His thumb hovered over the reply button, but he lowered the phone to his chest instead, letting out a quiet sigh.
"Who could've sent this?" he asked himself.
He sat up, scratching the back of his head, ruffling his messy hair. The faint scent of laundry detergent clung to his sheets. He looked around, eyes falling on the small penguin plush on his desk—he remembered Leah.
"Leah Boutsuki..." he muttered.
His mind drifted to her soft smiles, the way her hands clutched the straps of her bag when she was nervous, the way her eyes shone when she saw the penguin mochi. He had known for a while now, even if she never said it aloud. The way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't looking, the way her shoulders relaxed around him. She liked him. That much was clear.
But she wasn't the only one.
"Kaede Miyazaki…" he muttered, standing up, stretching his arms overhead as a small pop echoed from his shoulders.
He walked over to his mirror, checking his hair, then brushing his teeth with his phone propped up on the sink.
"She tries so hard to act like she doesn't care, always calling me an idiot, always scolding me, but she looks away when our eyes meet, and she stays by my side even when she doesn't have to." he thought to himself.
He rinsed his mouth, looking at his reflection, foam dripping from the corner of his lips.
"She likes me, too, doesn't she?" he asked himself.
He turned off the faucet, drying his face with a towel, the cold water waking him fully now. The realization wasn't new; it was something that had sat in the back of his mind, a quiet truth he had chosen to ignore because he didn't know what to do with it.
But then there was Rika. "Rika Sakurai..." he muttered.
He pulled on a loose gray sweater, pulling the sleeves over his hands, before sitting back on the edge of his bed. He remembered that afternoon, when he's sitting behind Leah and Rika, hearing them talking.
"I love him more than anyone else does and I know that for a fact." he remembered that line of Rika.
He let out a slow breath, checking his phone again, but the screen remained empty aside from that single message.
"I like you, a lot." the phone read.
"It could have been Leah. It could have been Miyazaki. It could have been Rika.
Or... it could have been none of them. No, it's one of them." he told to himself, pulling on his jeans.
"There's no way it's not." he continued.
His heart felt heavy, a weight pressing into his chest, soft but persistent. He glanced at the penguin plush again, remembering Leah's soft smile, her fingers trembling when she reached for the penguin mochi. He remembered Miyazaki's pout, the way she snapped at him when he offered to carry her bag, and how she avoided his eyes when he teased her. He remembered Rika's quiet, determined eyes, how her voice wavered when she spoke of him to Leah.
They all liked him, and he knew it. Yet here he was, standing in his room, unable to move, unable to reply, unable to decide what he should feel.
"What am I supposed to do?" he asked himself.
The fan above whirred softly as he sat back down, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. His phone vibrated, a reminder from his calendar appeared.
"Boutsuki-san's birthday." it read.
"How am I supposed to look at them now, knowing that message could be from any of them?" he asked himself.
He tapped the screen, hovering over the call button for the unknown number, but stopped himself. His reflection in the black screen stared back at him, eyes uncertain.
"I'm such an idiot." he said.
He tossed the phone onto the bed, standing up to fix his hair. He grabbed his cologne, spraying a little on his wrist before tapping it on his neck, the scent mixing with the clean air of his room.
"No matter what happens, I can't just ignore it forever." he said.
He pulled out the small bag. "Happy birthday, Boutsuki-san." he whispered under his breath before shaking his head.
He remembered Miyazaki's frustrated expression when she caught him carrying the plush, the way she crossed her arms and looked away.
And he remembered Rika's quiet determination, the way her eyes softened whenever she saw him.
"They all have feelings. And I..." he said.
He couldn't finish the thought. It felt too heavy, too complicated. But as he tied his shoes, checking the time—1:23 PM—he knew he couldn't keep pretending he didn't know. He couldn't keep running away from their feelings, or from his own.
"I need to face them. I need to face myself." he thought to himself.
His phone buzzed again. "Unknown Number: Sorry for the sudden message. Happy Sunday." it read.
He smiled faintly, shaking his head, his heart tightening.
"Whoever you are... thank you." he murmured.
He left their house and said "Today, I need to meet up with Sakamoto-san ."
And maybe tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever he found the courage, he would face those feelings, those blurred lines between friendship and love, between comfort and longing. But for today, he would smile, and he would talk with one of his acquaintance—Seiichi Sakamoto.
Because no matter how complicated things became, he cared for them. All of them. Even if he didn't know who sent that message, he knew one thing for certain. He was not alone in this tangled web of feelings. And maybe... that was enough, for now.