Ever since I was a kid, I always admired how the main character in stories would look at the female lead—as if she was the only person in the world for him. That kind of love made me want to be the coolest guy, the kind who would protect and care for his future girlfriend no matter what. So I worked hard on myself—appearance, attitude, studies. I wanted to be that OP MC everyone admires.
Graduation day finally came. The students of Year 6B were graduating to high school, and today was also my anniversary with my girlfriend. My heart fluttered as I remembered the day I first asked her out. She used to be shy and introverted, but now she's the school president.
I went to the student council office to decorate the place for our anniversary. But before I could begin, I heard footsteps approaching. Panicked, I hid in the closet.
I recognized my girlfriend's voice—and then another voice I didn't recognize. It was the vice-president. I couldn't hear them clearly, so I quietly opened the closet door just a little to listen. I couldn't see the guy's face, but I could clearly see my girlfriend. And what I heard shattered my heart into tiny pieces—pieces beyond repair.
"Ayaka-chan, when are you breaking up with Ryuto-kun?" the vice-president asked.
Aya-chan only smiled and said, "Not now. If I break up with him, who's going to pay my tuition fees and give me shopping money?"
My breath caught in my throat.
I froze—completely still, like a statue carved from shock. My ears were ringing, and for a moment, I thought I had misheard. She didn't mean that... right? I wanted to believe it was a bad joke, something taken out of context. But the way she laughed—soft, cold, careless—confirmed it.
A lump formed in my throat, burning and tight. My hands trembled as I held the closet door, trying not to make a sound. Every second I stayed there felt like a lifetime, like I was drowning in the air around me.
"I mean, come on," she continued casually, "he's sweet and all, but he's so easy to control. He does whatever I ask. Poor guy probably thinks I actually like him."
That was it.
My knees buckled, and I had to bite my lip hard to stop a sound from escaping. I couldn't cry—not now, not here. But something inside me cracked, a clean break right through the center of my heart.
I waited, barely breathing, until their voices faded out the door. When I was sure they were gone, I stepped out of the closet. The decorations I had brought—the streamers, the little cake, the handwritten card—looked ridiculous now. Like some kind of cruel joke.
I stared at them for a while before sweeping everything off the table in one angry motion. The crash echoed through the room, but I didn't care.
Not anymore.