The golden light of the late afternoon sun bled through the wide windows of Class 1-A, casting long, warm streaks of amber across the polished wooden floor. The classroom was filled with the muffled sounds of chairs being stacked, brooms brushing the corners, and idle chatter rising like steam after a gentle rain.
Cleaning time had ended, and with it came the familiar lull—students gathered in clusters, chatting animatedly about the club booths they'd visited, who they saw hanging out with who, and of course, the most curious mystery of the moment.
"Oi, where's Mika and Katsuragi?" one boy asked aloud, lounging backward in his seat with a lazy grin.
"Yeah," another chimed in, a sly smirk tugging his lips. "They've been gone for ages. Maybe... something interesting happened between them."
"No way! You mean—"
"Tch," a short-haired girl scoffed, pretending to wipe her desk while leaning in to hear better. "You guys are imagining things. But still, Mika's been acting weird since this morning."
The group grew larger, whispers circulating like wildfire. Some leaned in closer, others chuckled nervously, adding their own embellishments. Even a few second-years peeking into the hallway threw in curious glances.
Sayori, seated near the windows, drummed her fingers against the desk. Her orange eyes glowed under the dimming light, narrowed into impatient slits. She had been watching the clock tick for the last ten minutes, annoyed beyond belief. What's taking that idiot so long?
The rising buzz in the classroom only fueled her irritation. She bit her lip, twirling a strand of her yellow hair around her finger, trying not to leap into the gossip herself.
But just as she opened her mouth to silence the rumor mill, someone beat her to it.
"That's enough," came a low, sharp voice.
The classroom instantly fell silent.
Everyone turned to see Fujimoto Riku—tall, lean, and always with a half-lidded, unimpressed expression—standing up with his hands in his pockets. But this time, his eyes had a glint of something cold, and his voice had cut like a blade.
"It's lame to talk crap behind your classmates' backs. You don't know a damn thing about what's going on. So stop running your mouths."
A tense beat passed.
Then, Kenta raised his hand casually, strolling up beside Riku with a half-smile.
"Yeah, guys, seriously. It's not cool," he said, a little awkward but trying to ease the mood. "Besides, Kokoro's the type of guy who'd get flustered even if Mika just asked him to carry a volleyball."
The room chuckled lightly, the tension dissipating.
Sayori relaxed a little but still tapped her foot. The worry was creeping in again.
And then—
Click.
The door opened.
Every head turned.
Kokoro Katsuragi stepped into the classroom, his face pale and his skin glistening with sweat. He looked like he had just run a marathon... or narrowly escaped death.
Right behind him, Mika Watanabe entered, her white hair slightly disheveled by the hallway breeze. Her expression? Calm, unreadable, cold even—just like always. She walked with a quiet grace, her face void of any emotion, not even glancing at Kokoro.
Kokoro, however, stiffened slightly under all the gazes. His eyes avoided Sayori's instinctively.
Murmurs instantly began bubbling again.
"Took them long enough..."
"Why does Kokoro look like he saw a ghost?"
"Mika looks like nothing happened... creepy."
Sayori narrowed her eyes. She watched every step Kokoro took, his shoulders tense, his movements rigid.
Her thoughts churned. What the hell happened between them?
And then she leaned back with a sly smile, resting her chin in her hand as she stared at Kokoro.
"Oi, Katsuragi... you're sweating buckets," she called out sweetly. "What, did Mika make you clean the whole gym alone or something?"
Kokoro froze.
Mika, without missing a beat, walked to her desk and calmly sat down, flipping open her notebook like she hadn't just rocked his world five minutes ago.
Kokoro scratched the back of his neck and forced a shaky smile. "Y-Yeah... it was a heavy box..."
Sayori raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. She leaned forward, her orange eyes glinting like a fox that just found her prey.
"Hmm. Is that so...?"
The classroom continued to buzz around them, but for Kokoro, the room felt hot and narrow. His eyes darted to Mika, who didn't even glance back. Then to Sayori, who was now grinning smugly.
Dammit, he thought. I'm doomed either way.
The golden afternoon light faded slowly outside as the classroom settled into its usual chaos—only this time, with a hundred unspoken suspicions clinging to the walls.
__________________________________________
"Crap," he muttered under his breath. "Today's the first meeting..."
He quickly zipped up his bag, hands moving faster than usual. Slipping his sketchbook into the side pouch, he shot a glance to his right—Mika, as always, was serene, her short white hair falling gracefully across her pale face as she packed her belongings with methodical precision. Their eyes met for a brief moment. Mika's face didn't betray a single emotion, but her eyes... held something unspoken.
Kokoro looked away first.
Just as he swung his bag over his shoulder and was about to make a dash for the door, a voice called out.
"Yo! Kokoro!"
Kenta stood up from his desk, his face glowing with that usual cheerful mischief. He walked over, hands behind his head in his relaxed way.
"You're headed to the fourth floor, right? Club area?"
Kokoro nodded. "Yeah, I've got my first manga/anime club meeting."
Kenta's eyes sparkled. "Nice! Wait up—I'm grabbing the other two goofballs. Let's all go together."
Kokoro chuckled. "Genji and Minoru, right? Yeah, sure. I'll wait."
Kenta gave him a thumbs-up and darted off like a rocket toward the hallway, the sound of his shoes echoing against the wooden floor.
As Kokoro leaned against the doorframe, waiting, he couldn't help but glance back into the classroom.
Sayori was surrounded.
A few girls had gathered around her desk, chatting animatedly. The topic? Games.
"Sayori-senpai, are you really joining the gaming club this year?"
"I only picked up that new fighting game because of you, and I'm obsessed now!"
Sayori offered a graceful smile, brushing a strand of her fiery orange hair behind her ear. Her golden eyes gleamed with subtle amusement.
"Mmm, I'm glad to hear that. Gaming should be fun—and competitive. Just don't expect me to go easy on you."
The girls giggled, clearly thrilled.
But Sayori's eyes drifted from them, just slightly—toward Kokoro.
He hadn't noticed her at first, but when their gazes met, it was like time hiccupped. She tilted her head, ever so subtly. Her smile didn't fade, but the corners of her mouth shifted just a bit—there was something in that look. A tinge of curiosity? Annoyance? Concern?
Kokoro blinked.
Kenta's voice broke the spell. "Let's goooo, dude! They're already waiting by the stairs!"
Kokoro turned back to see Kenta with Genji and Minoru in tow. Genji, with his spiky red hair, was practically bouncing in place.
"I heard the anime club's bringing out original doujins today! You think they'll have that new Magical Valkyrie X series?"
Minoru yawned, his half-lidded eyes barely awake. "I just wanna find a spot with a chair and chill."
"You're hopeless," Genji said, lightly punching his arm.
"And you're too hyped," Minoru replied.
Kenta laughed and motioned to Kokoro. "C'mon! Let's go see what kind of chaos the fourth floor has in store."
As the four of them exited the classroom and headed down the hallway together, the fading afternoon light bathed the corridor in soft amber hues. The golden glow made the walls look warmer, more inviting. Their footsteps, their laughter, the hum of excitement—it all seemed to dance in harmony with the heartbeat of the school.
Behind them, Sayori turned back to the chattering girls. Her smile never left, but her fingers idly traced a small doodle on her notebook.
"So you're all joining the gaming club, huh?" she asked, still watching the hallway door where Kokoro had disappeared.
One of the girls nodded eagerly. "Yeah! It'll be super fun. And with you there, it'll be legendary."
Sayori smiled again, closing her notebook.
"Legendary, huh... we'll see."
The club floors were waiting, and so was the start of something new.