The school grounds of Sakura High, once buzzing with the vibrant energy of club recruitment day, had begun to mellow into a peaceful hush. Booths were being slowly dismantled, colorful banners drooping in the soft evening breeze. The smell of ink, cardboard, and late-afternoon sweat lingered faintly in the air. Laughter from distant seniors bidding their underclassmen farewell echoed gently between the open hallways.
The campus bathed in the amber tones of a setting sun, its golden rays pouring through the glass windows of the first floor and casting long, softened shadows across the polished wooden floors. The quiet rhythm of departing footsteps echoed, mixing with the light rustling of trees swaying just outside the open windows.
The once-lively hallway was now painted with warmth—sunlight kissed the white walls with glowing streaks of orange and gold, and silhouettes of fluttering sakura leaves danced through the open doorways, creating a dreamlike frame around the lingering students heading for the gate.
Kokoro walked beside Sayori, their footsteps slow, unhurried, the air between them tinged with a satisfying tiredness—the kind that follows a long day of excitement and subtle surprises.
His bag slung over one shoulder, Kokoro glanced at Sayori from the corner of his eye. She strolled with a quiet kind of confidence, her twin ponytails swaying slightly with each step, her orange eyes shining with mischief as she grinned to herself.
They passed through the courtyard where shadows of trees stretched long and sleepy, their leaves catching the last golden rays. A few underclassmen waved goodbye to their club seniors while others lounged on benches, sipping drinks or snacking on vending machine snacks. The smell of warm pavement, faint blossoms, and a trace of aftershave from upperclassmen lingered in the air like a snapshot of high school youth.
And of course… the whispers.
"Is that Kojima Sayori… with Katsuragi-kun?"
"They've been together the whole day…"
"She's walking home with him?! You lucky bastard!"
Sayori, of course, heard it all.
"Seems like the school's collective heartbeat just spiked," she said, smirking. "You might get jumped tomorrow, Kokoro. Better wear an armor."
Kokoro's face flushed with heat. "D-don't joke like that…"
Sayori nudged his arm teasingly. "I'm serious! If looks could kill, you'd be a chalk outline by now."
He tried to play it cool, looking away at the horizon, where the city skyline shimmered faintly beyond the gates. "It's not like we're holding hands or anything…"
Sayori gave a dramatic sigh, throwing her arms behind her head. "Tch, maybe we should have—really stir the pot."
The two continued down the smooth stone path that led to the school gates. The warm, fading light filtered through the canopy of cherry trees lining the walkway, casting pink-orange shadows across their path. The leaves occasionally fluttered down like gentle confetti, giving the whole scene an oddly magical aura.
Sayori turned toward him, her voice lighter now, almost thoughtful. "Thanks for today. It was fun, y'know? I don't usually get this kind of… normal."
Kokoro raised an eyebrow. "Normal?"
She looked at the golden sky ahead. "Yeah. Laughing with someone. Being surprised. Feeling nervous. It's kinda nice."
Kokoro nodded softly, his gaze distant. "Yeah… I get that."
They reached a fork in the road—a part of the sidewalk where students chose different paths home. The warm sunlight was replaced by the soft glow of lampposts flickering to life. Nearby, a small line of vending machines blinked quietly beside the gate like guardians of tired students.
Sayori pointed left. "That's me. Hotel Royale—my golden cage."
Kokoro pointed straight. "Train station. My escape route."
She giggled, then gave him a sly glance. "Don't forget to update that manga. If the mysterious swordsman dies, I'm throwing my entire bookshelf at you."
He smirked, "Noted. Though, the bookshelf sounds heavy."
Sayori stepped closer, hands behind her back, eyes sparkling like molten amber. "Just don't break my heart, author-kun."
Kokoro looked away, hiding his smile. "I'll… try."
She began walking, then turned back with a wave. "I had a great time today. Let's do it again sometime."
"Yeah… me too."
As Sayori disappeared down the sunset-drenched path, Kokoro stood for a moment, the warm wind brushing his face, the scent of spring in the air, and a strange feeling fluttering in his chest.
The golden day ended with the soft hum of city life returning, and as he turned toward the station, the lingering memory of Sayori's grin followed him like a tune he couldn't get out of his head.
__________________________________________
The golden rays of the setting sun spilled across the city like liquid honey, softening the sharp lines of buildings and giving the streets a warm, hazy glow. Students poured out of Sakura High's gates, their voices echoing down the sidewalk in cheerful chatter. But parked a short distance away, nestled between a tall hedge and a lamppost, sat a sleek, black luxury sedan—its tinted windows hiding a storm brewing within.
Inside the backseat of the car, bathed in shadows and seething silence, sat Watanabe Mika.
Her expression was carved from stone, lips pressed in a rigid line, her pale skin catching the warm light just enough to make her white eyes gleam with menace. Her short, silvery-white hair—usually silky and immaculate—was slightly tousled as she leaned forward, glaring past the glass.
Outside, she watched them.
Kokoro and Sayori.
The two walked side by side, their bags slung over their shoulders, Sayori animatedly chatting while Kokoro responded with a soft smile. Sayori's yellow hair shimmered in the fading light, bouncing with her every step. Kokoro looked relaxed. At ease. Enjoying himself.
That alone made Mika's jaw tighten.
Her fingers curled into fists on her lap. Nails dug into her palm. Her breath came out in tiny huffs.
"Tch... the hell is she doing with him?" she muttered, voice low and bitter. "Acting like she's known him forever. Laughing. Touching his arm like she owns it…"
Her voice cracked slightly. Not from sadness—but from something far more dangerous.
Her eyes burned holes into Sayori's figure. Her entire body tensed with jealousy that swirled and roiled like a boiling sea. She hated this feeling—of being outside the picture.
"I became beautiful for him…" she whispered through gritted teeth, her white eyes wide and intense. "Everything. My hair, my body, my clothes—all of it was for Kokoro."
She ran a hand down her thigh, smoothing out the wrinkle she'd made in her designer skirt when her fist clenched. Her other hand shot up, gripping the edge of the window tightly. She leaned closer, the faintest sheen of sweat gathering on her brow.
"And now she's just... taking it all? With that smug little face?"
She laughed softly. A humorless, broken sound. Then she snarled.
"The music club? That's a fking joke."** Her voice rose slightly. "The only reason I ever learned piano was because of him. Because I wanted him to hear me play. So why the hell would I stay? Useless…"
Her eyes snapped back to Kokoro—who had just reached the sidewalk where he and Sayori would part ways. The two exchanged a few more words, and Sayori—that bitch—gave him a teasing wave before turning toward her family's luxury hotel.
Kokoro continued straight toward the station.
Mika's breath slowed. Her gaze softened just a bit.
"You looked so happy, Kokoro…" she whispered, her expression twisted into something between yearning and rage. "That smile… it was mine. And it will be again."
She leaned back into the plush leather seat, the fury still burning behind her white eyes but now laced with quiet determination. The driver peered into the rearview mirror, hesitant.
"Ojou-sama… shall we head home?"
"Drive."
The word was sharp—final.
As the car glided silently into traffic, Mika looked out the window one last time, a haunting smile curling her lips.
"Tomorrow I'll make my move. You'll be mine, Kokoro. Whether you know it or not."