The next day at school felt oddly normal—at least, at first. The bell rang, students filed into class, and the hum of chatter filled the room. I tried to act natural, but knowing that I had a "fake girlfriend" now made everything feel just a little... off. The mundane routines—students gossiping, rustling papers, the faint squeak of chairs—somehow felt amplified, as if the entire school had its attention focused on me.
Kaori sat in her usual seat, perfectly composed as always. Her posture was impeccable, her uniform neat, and her expression calm, as if she hadn't just flipped my entire world upside down the day before. Meanwhile, I was sweating buckets, trying not to look at her too much. Someone might get the wrong idea. Or worse, the right idea.
During break, Kaori caught me off guard. "Yuto, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft but loud enough to catch the attention of nearby students. The words were innocuous, but the way she said them—with genuine concern—made my stomach twist.
I froze. Great. Now everyone's looking.
"Pres is talking to that weird boy again," someone muttered nearby.
"Are they close?" another whispered.
"Lucky him," a third chimed in, though their tone made it sound more like a curse than a compliment.
"Uh, yeah. Totally fine. Just… tired. Stayed up too late studying, I guess?" I mumbled, scratching the back of my neck. It was a pathetic excuse, and I knew it.
The truth? I hadn't studied at all. I'd spent the entire night tossing and turning, replaying the events of the previous day in my head. When that got too exhausting, I'd resorted to watching anime until the early hours of the morning. But I couldn't tell them that. They already thought I was weird enough.
"You? Studying?" one of my classmates snorted. "That'll be the day."
The group around us erupted in laughter, and I slouched lower in my seat, wishing I could disappear. Kaori, to my surprise, didn't laugh. Instead, she gave me a small, reassuring smile before turning back to her notebook. It wasn't much, but it felt like a lifeline—a tiny buoy in a sea of judgment.
...
During lunch, things took an unexpected turn. I was sitting alone at my usual spot, quietly eating and reveling in the solitude. Being a loner had its perks; no one bothered you, and you didn't have to navigate the social minefield of lunchtime politics. But that peace was short-lived.
Kaori approached me with her group of friends in tow. They were all elegant and intimidating in their own ways, the kind of girls who turned heads wherever they went. I immediately felt out of place, like a background character in someone else's story. Kaori leaned down slightly, her hair brushing against my shoulder as she whispered, "Can we talk for a moment?"
The entire table fell silent. Her friends stared at us like she'd just announced she was moving to Mars. Their expressions ranged from shock to curiosity, with a hint of disapproval sprinkled in for good measure.
"Uh, yeah. Sure," I stammered, quickly standing up. My knees felt wobbly as I followed her out of the room, the weight of a dozen stares boring into my back. My face burned with embarrassment.
Once we were alone in the hallway, I turned to her. "What's up?"
Kaori's expression was calm, but there was a hint of urgency in her eyes. "I need you to remember our story," she said. "My parents might ask you more questions next time, and we can't afford for you to slip up."
"Right. Got it," I said, nodding. "But did you have to drag me out in front of everyone like that? They're going to think something's going on."
She tilted her head, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Isn't something going on?"
I groaned. "You know what I mean."
Before she could respond, Hoshino Chi appeared around the corner, holding her lunch tray. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw us.
"Oh," she said, pausing. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"
"No!" I said, maybe a little too quickly. "We were just… talking about homework. Right, Kaori?"
Kaori raised an eyebrow but played along. "Yes. Homework."
Chi's gaze flicked between us, her expression unreadable. "Okay. Well, I'll leave you to your... homework." With that, she walked away, leaving me feeling like I'd just dug myself into a hole.
...
Later that afternoon, during gym class, things took another turn for the awkward. We were playing volleyball, and somehow, Kaori and I ended up on the same team. It should've been fine—except for the fact that I was terrible at volleyball. My coordination was non-existent, and my reflexes were about as sharp as a dull pencil.
"Yuto, the ball!" someone shouted.
I looked up just in time to see the ball hurtling toward me. Panicking, I flailed my arms and managed to hit it… directly into Kaori's face.
The entire gym fell silent as Kaori stumbled back, holding her nose. My heart stopped. Time seemed to slow as I rushed over to her, the weight of a hundred stares pressing down on me.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I said, my voice trembling. "Are you okay?"
She lowered her hand, revealing a small red mark on her nose. "I'm fine," she said, her voice calm but laced with irritation.
"Are you sure? I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine, Yuto. Let's just keep playing," she said, cutting me off.
Despite her reassurances, I couldn't shake the guilt. I spent the rest of the game trying to redeem myself, which only made things worse. By the end of class, I'd tripped over my own feet twice, collided with another teammate, and accidentally spiked the ball into the coach's coffee cup. If there were a skill for being unlucky, I'd have maxed it out by now.
Kaori sighed as we walked back to the locker rooms. "You really are hopeless, aren't you?"
"Hey, I'm trying," I muttered, my face burning with embarrassment.
...
After school, I found myself sitting on a bench near the courtyard, nursing a bruised ego. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden light over the campus. I was lost in thought when Kaori appeared beside me, holding two cans of juice. She handed one to me without a word.
"What's this for?" I asked, taking the can.
"For not completely ruining gym class," she said with a smirk.
"Wow. Thanks," I said, rolling my eyes.
She chuckled softly, and for a moment, we sat in comfortable silence, sipping our drinks. It was a rare, quiet moment—one that felt strangely… real. The hum of distant conversations and the rustling of leaves filled the space between us.
"You're not as bad as you think, you know," she said suddenly, her voice soft.
I looked at her, surprised. "What do you mean?"
She shrugged, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "You're clumsy and awkward, sure. But you're also… honest. It's refreshing."
I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I just nodded, feeling a warmth spread through my chest.