After the final bell rang, the classroom dissolved into chatter and clattering chairs. Some students rushed off to cram school, others loitered by the windows, soaking up the golden hue of the afternoon sun.
I packed my bag slowly, scanning the room out of the corner of my eye.
She wasn't here.
Again.
Like déjà vu written in invisible ink, I knew exactly where she'd be.
I walked down the hallway past the vending machines, past the first years squealing about something or other, until I reached the familiar corner:
The shoe lockers.
And just like the previous timeline, she stood there, waiting.
There she was.
Rin Kamoshida, standing by the shoe lockers like a nervous heroine in the final act of a shoujo anime.
She clutched her bag to her chest, rocking slightly on her heels. When her eyes met mine, she froze like a deer caught in... well, a painfully awkward romcom.
When she saw me, her expression lit up.
"…Mizuki-kun."
"...H-hi," she stammered, eyes darting like she was under interrogation.
There it was—the full body blush. From the tips of her ears to her neck, like someone had dipped her in embarrassment.
How does she not combust from this much blood rushing to her face? I should ask a doctor. Or a manga artist.
I gave a small nod. "Hey."
We stood there for a second. Or five. Probably five. You could've made popcorn in the silence.
"Waiting for me?"
She looked like a deer caught in gentle sunlight. "I-I wasn't sure if… if you'd already left."
Last time, I rushed it. I asked her out to a café right after school. She smiled, but her affection dropped. I thought I was being smooth, but maybe it came off as insincere. Or rushed. Or—
Fake. Like I was playing along instead of trying to understand her.
Affection score plummeted.
Head exploded.
Lesson learned.
So this time, I went with a softer play. I wanted to feel the air between us.
"I didn't," I said, slipping on my shoes. "Want to walk home together?"
She blinked.
"Eh?"
"…Together?"
I nodded.
Rin nodded slowly, a little dazed. "O-Okay."
The afternoon sun lit the path ahead in soft gold. Romantic lighting courtesy of Mother Nature, or maybe she was just bored and decided to ship us today. The breeze carried the scent of spring, and along with it, a rogue sakura petal that tried to kamikaze into my face.
I swatted it away like a ninja. Smooth.
Rin walked beside me—well, technically one step behind me, like she was an NPC trying not to trigger a cutscene too early.
I glanced sideways. Yep, still looking down at her shoes like they held the secrets to life.
We didn't speak.
It wasn't uncomfortable.
Just… tentative. Like two socially awkward cats circling each other in slow motion.
Come on, someone say something before this turns into a silent indie film.
Then, she finally broke the silence, her voice so soft I nearly missed it.
"Do you… usually walk home alone?"
"…Yeah. Yuuki goes the other way. And I don't really live near anyone else."
And also, no one's voluntarily accompanied me since that time I tried to walk a girl home in third grade and tripped.
"Oh," she said, her voice even softer now. "Me too."
That's when I noticed her expression.
Not sad, exactly. But like she was listening to a song only she could hear. Peaceful… with a pinch of melancholy. Like one of those dramas where someone always dies by episode ten.
"You live near that bakery with the green awning, right?" I asked.
She blinked. Twice. Like a confused owl.
"Y-You know?"
"Yeah," I said, shrugging like it was no big deal. "You mentioned it during the first year intro."
Three months ago. While sneezing. I have no idea why I remember that, but I still can't remember my math teacher's name, so you tell me what the brain prioritizes.
She smiled. It was small. Quiet. The kind of smile you'd miss if you blinked, but somehow it still made my chest feel like it got poked by a warm marshmallow.
"You're good at remembering things," she said.
I looked away and shoved my hands deeper into my pockets. If I stared at her smile any longer, I might melt into the pavement and get stepped on by a passing dog.
"Definitely, not everything."
Her steps stumbled for just a second.
It was subtle, but I caught it. Her rhythm broke like her brain bluescreened for half a second.
Then came the emergency reboot: a tiny cough. Classic cover-up move.
I didn't push it.
Because honestly, if someone said that to me, I'd probably trip, choke, and file a report to the Department of Dangerous Cheesy lines.
Still, inside my head, I was screaming.
Why did I say that? Why am I like this? Congratulations, you've officially unlocked the 'Flustered Her' achievement. Please proceed to your next dumb move.
But she didn't look annoyed. Just flustered.
We kept walking. Another sakura petal drifted down and landed on her shoulder.
She didn't notice.
I stared at it for a second.
Do I brush it off? Is that too forward? Will I get sued for petal assault?
…Okay, calm down, me. It's not like I'm trying to pluck a thorn from a princess's dress.
I reached out. Carefully. Slowly. Like I was defusing a bomb made of cherry blossoms.
She looked at me just as my fingers brushed her shoulder.
Her eyes went wide. Very wide. Like I'd just declared war on all things shy and innocent.
"Petal," I said simply, flicking it off.
"…Oh." Her voice squeaked. Absolutely squeaked.
I swear I saw steam rise from her ears.
And for some reason, my heart did a weird loop-de-loop.