CHAPTER 4 - The Confession that Changed Everything (or Did it?)
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I Love You.
Three words. One sentence. Infinite chaos.
You know that moment when your soul gets a slap in the face from your brain, yelling, "Get it together, we're in a romance now!"? Yeah. That's how it felt.
Who could have predicted that a guy like me—chiseled like a Greek god (in a dimly lit room, through a funhouse mirror, while squinting)—would ever hear those words from a real, living girl? And not from some figment of my imagination for once?
Ladies and gentlemen, this is a twist you could never see coming.
I got the girl.
At the start.
Chapter Four, and—BOOM! Confession.
Take that, slow-burn, hand-holding, "we're just friends even though we totally sleep in the same bed" anime tropes. This isn't one of those romcoms where the biggest climax is a nervous forehead kiss and a shy "maybe I like you."
No, no. This is my story.
And my story? It decided to speedrun love.
Maybe it's fate. Maybe it's karma. Or maybe it's just the author losing their mind at 3 a.m., binge-watching romcoms for the tenth time. But whatever it is, this is not your average high school romance.
I'd like to say I was prepared for this moment. But let's be real.
Here's the truth: I'm not some handsome, suave guy who's charming in all the right ways.
Actually, I'm what happens when you take a mix of social anxiety, questionable internet habits, and a face that screams, "background character #46." If life were a gacha game, I'd be that C-tier pull everyone gets and promptly forgets about.
I'm not even the guy who gets friendzoned. I'm the guy they don't even know exists.
You ever walk past someone and they don't even blink? Yeah, that's me. The invisible man. The anime extra. The guy whose face you might recognize in the opening credits if you squint real hard.
So when I said I was noble and handsome, that was a lie. A big, fat lie.
But somehow, here I am.
A confession.
From her.
Mikaela.
The goddess of Class 1-A. The one who could freeze time with her walk, make hearts skip beats with a smile, and turn heads in a way that made even the hottest guys question their life choices.
Every guy in school either wanted to marry her or worship her like a shrine.
And me?
Well, let's just say I may or may not have had a few… moments… last night. And yes, some of those moments may have involved certain assets I shouldn't have been thinking about. Don't judge me! I'm just a man. A lonely, perverted, desperate man.
And now?
Now, this goddess is confessing her love to me.
What kind of fever dream am I living in?
But I digress. This is it. My moment. My big "hero rises" scene. I can already see it—the dramatic camera pan, the music swelling, cherry blossoms falling from the sky (even though it's clearly summer), and me, standing there, about to deliver the line that will change everything.
I take a deep breath. Steady myself.
I turn toward her.
"I love you too… Mikaela Satu—"
My heart soars. This is it. This is the scene. The moment that will define my entire existence.
And then—
Wait.
M... I... K...
A...
E—Huh??
Record scratch.
And that's when I knew… I'd seriously f**ked up.
Standing before me wasn't Mikaela.
It was… her.
Akira Suzuki.
My brain tried to reboot but failed miserably.
Akira. Suzuki.
Every school has that one girl. You know the type—the one who sits in the back, always quiet, always watching, always terrifying. The one who scores higher than anyone, yet somehow doesn't seem to care about it.
They say she once made the PE teacher apologize to her without saying a word. Just stared at him until he crumbled.
No one knows what she does outside school, but there are rumors. Mafia ties. Secret assassin. Some kind of vigilante.
Okay, maybe not the last one.
But the vibe? Unstoppable. Terrifying. And she just confessed to me?
What kind of twisted, alternate universe did I stumble into? Was this some hidden character route unlocked by choosing every sarcastic dialogue option?
She was standing there, arms crossed, expression cold as ever. Her eyes—like pools of obsidian—pierced right through me. She didn't even flinch, as if confessing her feelings to me was as normal as taking a breath.
Me. A guy who hasn't even managed to maintain eye contact with a cashier without blushing.
And suddenly, I felt it. A strange surge. Fear? Excitement? Maybe I had indigestion?
But I didn't have time to figure it out.
This was Akira Suzuki—and if I didn't run for my life, I was definitely going to regret it.
I blinked, tried to breathe. There was no escape. This wasn't the cute, fluffy, "I like you" confession from a romcom. No. This was a cold, hard, calculated declaration.
A blood pact.
I wasn't just a boy who had accidentally become the center of some love triangle. No, no. This was Akira's story now. And whether I liked it or not, I had been dragged into her chaos.
I should've said something. Anything.
But no words came out. I just stood there, frozen, like a deer in headlights, heart racing. What was happening?
I tried to formulate a plan.
Plan A: Smile, say yes, and hope for the best. But let's be honest, I'd probably die in less than 72 hours from sheer anxiety alone.
Plan B: Politely reject her. That would go well, right? Maybe a desk would come flying at me, or I'd spontaneously combust from the shame. Either way, I'd be dead.
Plan C: Pretend this is a dream and jump in front of a moving bus. At least I'd go out with style.
And so, my plan became simple: don't move. Don't blink. Don't breathe. Just hope she forgets I exist.
Akira stared at me, still unblinking. Her expression was unreadable, but the silence between us… it wasn't empty.
It was suffocating.
And then, just when I thought the universe was going to swallow me whole, she spoke.
"…You were thinking something stupid again, weren't you?"
I wanted to deny it. I wanted to lie and pretend I was thinking about calculus or some other serious subject. But the heat on my cheek? The burning shame?
My mouth betrayed me.
"…Yes," I said.
And just like that, the air shifted. The silence grew thicker. Something… else was watching. Something I couldn't name.
And in the pit of my stomach, I knew:
This story?
It wasn't over.
It was just beginning.