Aya, sick of the ongoing wave of applause-like congratulations, spoke up anyway.
“No, we’re really not dating.”
But her friends, buzzing over this completely unexpected new couple, weren’t listening.
“Sure, sure,” “so shy,” classmates who rarely spoke to her normally were now poking her, and Aya watched them with a cooled smile, reframing this as a problem that needed solving, nodding along while her mind worked. Meanwhile, Takagi — the only one who’d actually listened to what Aya said — muttered “ah, thought so,” satisfied, and went back to her seat. No intention of helping clear up the misunderstanding, apparently. Heartless.
Before long, Yuki, practically pushed forward by the crowd, walked over to Aya.
“Mizuki-san… um.”
“I genuinely can’t figure out what’s going on here, but this wasn’t something you started, right?”
Feeling a little bad for asking, since she’d surfaced as prime suspect number one given the rumor’s content, Aya checked anyway. Yuki shook her head, brows drooping.
“It was already like this when I got here. I was running a little late this morning.”
“Ah, right. You did get home late yesterday.”
They exchanged small words under their breath. Yuki, anxious, reacted to every single comment from classmates — too good-natured for her own good, apparently — while Aya, in contrast, stood with arms crossed, ignoring everything.
As they muttered “what do we do,” “what should we do” back and forth, Yuki apologized, clearly mortified. “Sorry — for getting rumored up with someone like me.”
Seeing this, Aya narrowed her eyes and let out a small sigh.
Personally, Aya wasn’t particularly troubled by the misunderstanding itself. She figured the rumor would fade eventually if handled patiently.
But if Yuki felt guilty about it, that was a different matter. She decided it needed resolving, and fast.
At that moment, Endo emerged from the crowd, looking like she was having far too much fun. Having already peppered Yuki with curious questions and gotten brushed off, she’d apparently switched targets and now turned to Aya.
“Hey, hey, since when were you two dating?”
She apparently loved this sort of romantic gossip, asking with an excited grin Aya rarely saw from her. Yuki, looking exhausted, started to say something on her behalf, but Aya stopped her and tried, sincerely, to explain herself.
“Endo. Please actually listen. First of all — we’re not dating.”
“Come on, you’re just embarrassed. It’s not like it costs you anything to admit it.”
“So, listen—”
“—Forget that! Tell me how it started!”
The moment her words got talked over, Aya, right there on the spot, slammed her palm flat against the blackboard at the back of the classroom.
A dull, heavy sound like a temple bell rang out across the room. Dry chalk dust drifted down.
Endo, who’d been about to make another half-joking remark, sucked in a sharp breath and froze, flinching. The friends egging things on fell silent too, staring at Aya wide-eyed. Yuki, standing right beside her, looked the most startled of all, trembling slightly as she stared at Aya. Aya, feeling bad about it but relieved the room had finally gone quiet—
She looked around at her now-silent classmates one by one, meeting each of their eyes to convey what she wanted to say before anyone spoke, then turned to Endo, conveniently right in front of her.
“Where’d the rumor come from?”
Endo looked to the other classmates for help, and Shinozaki stepped forward instead.
He was apparently sharp enough to already look thoroughly apologetic as he answered Aya’s question.
“Someone in this class overheard some kids from Class B saying ‘those two are apparently dating.’ Secondhand from secondhand — hard to trace the source. That’s — sorry. For egging it on.”
“Did anyone actually hear it directly from either of us?”
Aya asked next, but no one came forward.
Wetting her dry lips, she continued.
“Right, of course not — because it’s not true. Look, I get it. If I heard two classmates were dating, I’d be curious too. But if the people involved are denying it, you should listen, and egging it on when they’re clearly uncomfortable is too much.”
The atmosphere was funereal. But Aya genuinely didn’t like that kind of joking around when the target clearly didn’t want it. As everyone looked away, Shinozaki was the first to bow his head, apologizing on behalf of the group.
“Sorry. That was out of line.”
As always, he handled things well — a relief. Grateful he’d quietly steered things toward a decent landing point, Aya let out a sigh, relaxing her shoulders, and put on a lighter, deliberately deflated tone.
“To say it one more time — none of that’s true. Whoever spread the rumor, make sure it gets corrected properly.”
Repeating it once more, Shinozaki gave an “ah,” a nod of acknowledgment. Then he gave the still-frozen, near-tearful Endo a light pat on the back, prompting her to go back to her seat.
Looking around the room, Aya found no more egging-on remarks flying her way. She saw scattered apologetic and awkward expressions and felt confident the annoying rumor wouldn’t spread further. Looking one last time at Endo, who’d taken the worst of it, Aya noticed she looked a little smaller than usual.
Bad approach. Keenly aware of that now, Aya, without even taking time to set down her bag, headed for the hallway.
“…Sorry for the rough approach. Going to go cool off.”
She beckoned to Yuki as she said it, and Yuki, noticing, silently followed her out into the hallway.
Just after stepping out, they heard the faint hum of classroom noise return behind them. Relieved by that for now, the two of them faced each other in the hallway, thinning out now with the start of class approaching.
“You’re kind of scary when you’re mad, Mizuki-san.”
Yuki said this with a half-laugh, still visibly a little unsettled, and Aya shrugged, correcting her.
“I wasn’t mad. I acted mad. Cold water works well on someone overheated, right? But — it wasn’t a good way to handle it. Sorry, could you follow up with Endo later for me?”
It wasn’t only Yuki’s problem, and yet Yuki had ended up bearing the worst of it.
At Aya’s request, born of guilt, Yuki nodded readily.
“Okay. But I don’t think you need to worry about it too much. Honestly, there wasn’t much you could’ve said in that moment that would’ve worked, and you needed to show you were serious.”
“Even so, I don’t think a violent way of solving it was the right call.”
Aya’s shoulders dropped, self-loathing plain on her face as she confessed.
“—Back in elementary school, I hated teachers who’d kick the podium just because students were being loud. But what I just did was exactly the same thing.”
Yuki, a little fascinated to hear Aya let out an unusually weak sigh, patted her lightly on the back to reassure her.
“It’s fine. Everyone can tell you did it for my sake, and I think they’ll reflect on it. I don’t think — I don’t think there’s anyone who’d think badly of you for it.”
“There is. At least one person. Standing right here.”
“So harsh on yourself. I was happy about it, you know?”
“Thanks. That helps a little.”
Deciding it was pointless to keep sulking, Aya lightly patted her own cheeks and said “alright,” shifting gears. Seeing the change in her expression, Yuki shifted her own mindset too, ready to face the problem.
“—Why do you think that rumor started?”
At Aya’s question, Yuki raised a finger, expression turning somewhat serious.
“That’s the thing. I can’t figure out a reason. If it were malicious, meant to drag someone down, I’d get it, but there’s no real upside to spreading a rumor about dating that just ends the moment the people involved deny it. —Unless, say, there’s a Person A who has feelings for one of us, and a Person B who has feelings for that Person A, and Person B spread the rumor to get Person A’s attention?”
“As a hypothesis it holds together, but we’ve got way too little to go on right now. Feels like a stretch.”
“Yeah… hmm, but that’s about the only reason I can think of.”
Yuki decided it wasn’t worth belaboring the “why” any further and shifted approach.
“Might be easier to think about ‘who’ than ‘why’ right now?”
“Ten to one it’s someone who knew about our movie outing yesterday.”
At Aya’s hypothesis, Yuki, having already arrived at the same possibility, nodded in agreement.
“I think so too. The timing’s too perfect.”
“And probably someone at this school — more specifically, probably a second-year.”
“Why’s that?”
“To anyone normal, our movie outing yesterday would look exactly like what it was — two friends hanging out. Fabricating a dating rumor out of that and spreading it takes someone who specifically knows I’m gay.”
“Ah, right,” Yuki said, clapping her hands, impressed. She glanced, uneasy, toward her own classroom.
Then, swallowing hard, hesitating over whether to voice the suspicion, she said it quietly anyway.
“…What do we do? Should we hunt down whoever did it? If we trace it back step by step, I think we’d get there eventually.”
“That was my plan. Except — I picked the wrong method just now. As long as you’re okay with it, Kayano, I’d rather we hold off on hunting down the culprit, at least for a while.”
Yuki looked a little thrown.
“…Method?”
“Because I made such a visible show of being upset, the rumor’s now got a reputation as something bad. On top of that, the people who egged it on are feeling guilty right now. If we go hunting for the culprit, everyone will know how it played out and who did it, and there’s a real risk that guilt turns into aggression directed at whoever we find.”
It might be an overly cautious worry, but Aya voiced her concern with a serious expression.
There was no guarantee that excess righteousness wouldn’t spiral into harassment or worse. Even in a relatively peaceful year group like theirs, there were undercurrents of rivalry and cliquish hostility.
Give that a righteous justification, and someone would get hurt.
“I don’t think whoever did this has any real hostility toward either of us. So I don’t want to hurt them either.”
At this, Yuki looked at Aya seriously for a moment, then smiled.
“Agreed. Let’s drop the manhunt. But — if it keeps happening, we’ll need to actually deal with it properly, and this is a one-time pass. Next time, we hunt down the culprit as quietly as possible. Sound good?”
“No complaints. Glad it was you I got rumored with, Kayano. Makes this a lot easier.”
“Likewise. Glad it was you too, Mizuki-san. …I mean it, you know?”
Yuki said this with a playful tilt of her head, laughing, and Aya felt a little lighter for it.
“Sure, sure. But even lip service is nice to hear.”
At that, Yuki pouted, as if that wasn’t what she meant, mischief creeping into her expression.
“—You hanging out with me to blow off steam. Keeping the other thing secret for me. Being considerate like that — I’m genuinely grateful for all of it, all together… grateful enough that I think of you as special enough that even getting misunderstood over a rumor with you doesn’t really bother me.”
Aya, suppressing her own unease, searched Yuki’s face for the real meaning behind the words, but Yuki just kept smiling calmly. “Anyway,” she said, and walked back into the classroom with that same fixed smile, and Aya, unable to say anything, watched her go. Embarrassed by the directness of Yuki’s gratitude, Aya let out a sigh.
Then, after a little while, she went back inside too.
Lunch break. Aya, feeling the sting of scattered stares from across the room, sat across from Takagi eating her homemade lunch. Takagi, leaning back in her chair, ate a sandwich made with thick-cut bread, swallowed, wiped mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth with her tongue, and grinned.
“Gonna be awkward for a while, huh~”
She said it like it was somebody else’s problem, amused, and Aya had nothing to say back. She should be reflecting on this, not resenting it.
“…Yeah, I know. My approach was too rough.”
“How admirable of you. Still — there’s a limit to how far people should push a joke. This morning got way out of hand. Everyone probably knows it, and it’ll blow over in a week. Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
“I hope so — either way, I put Kayano through a lot. That’s on me.”
As Aya murmured this to herself, Takagi, with a faint smirk, glanced at the classmates nearby who were clearly eavesdropping. “Hear that?” she said pointedly, and the classmates awkwardly buried themselves back in their lunches.
Aya, wearing a hard-to-describe expression, reached for her lunch with her chopsticks and quietly kept eating.
That was when it happened. A knock came at the back door of the classroom.
Those seated near the back, able to hear it over the noise, all turned to look.
Visible through the door’s glass panel was a girl with a gentle smile.
Someone unfamiliar. Judging by the wear on her uniform, probably a third-year or a first-year — most likely a first-year. Shorter in height, on the slimmer, more delicate side, build-wise. Her chestnut-brown hair, reaching to about shoulder length, would probably only be allowed at a school as lax about hair inspections as theirs, and her uniform was worn a little loosely besides. That said, her skirt wasn’t excessively short or anything, and on the whole, she came across as a fairly proper student. Under her blazer, she wore a single beige cardigan.
What stood out most was her face. Her features were remarkably well-balanced, her lips well cared-for and glossy. A faint glimpse of a canine tooth showed through her open mouth — not quite a snaggletooth, but combined with her charming expression, it gave observers the impression of a small, friendly animal. And the minimal makeup she wore, clearly someone who knew exactly how to work with her own face, elevated the overall impression further. All told, a genuinely cute-looking girl.
Like prey drawn to bait, the boy sitting closest to the door perked up and went to answer it.
Aya cut her attention away and went back to lunch, popping a mouthful of frozen spinach into her mouth. And then —
“Mizuki! Some underclassman’s asking for you!”
The boy who’d answered the door waved Aya over, looking a little surprised himself.
With everyone’s eyes now on Aya, the center of attention, she sat there with her chopsticks still in hand, blankly staring at the visiting underclassman. The girl, noticing Aya’s gaze, laughed bashfully and gave a small wave near her chest, signaling she had business with her. Aya frowned.
—Who was this. What business?
A completely unfamiliar face. Not an acquaintance.
After thinking it over for a while without finding an answer, Aya set down her chopsticks and stood up.
“Popularity’s finally catching up to you, huh.”
“No way that’s it. I’ll go see.”
“Yeah.”
Leaving Takagi’s teasing behind her, Aya walked over, studying the girl’s face as she approached.
Even up close, seeing her clearly, there was still no recognition at all.
Standing right in front of her now, not sure what to say, Aya looked down at her. The girl, looking bashful, lowered her eyes for a moment, then fanned her face as if to hide the heat rising in her cheeks.
“Um, nice to meet you… Mizuki-senpai. Right?”
She apparently knew who Aya was. Aya nodded, confused.
“That’s right, but — have we met somewhere? This is the first time, isn’t it?”
“Ah, yes! It is — I just knew about you one-sidedly. I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Tokiwa. Um, the rock kind of ‘tokiwa,’ not the plate kind. Ah, sorry, that’s a bad explanation — does that make sense?”
“Ah, yeah. That Tokiwa. Got it.”
“Tokiwa Sakura. Class 1-A.”
From what little she’d said, she seemed like a remarkably friendly, soft-spoken girl. First impression, good so far.
Aya, softening slightly, gave a light greeting — “nice to meet you too, Tokiwa.” Then, noticing her classmates listening in with obvious interest, she said “should we go somewhere else?” and started to close the door, but Sakura made a small “ah!” and waved a hand lightly.
“Oh, I don’t mean to keep you long. Please don’t worry about it.”
“Ah, that so?”
Given that, closing the door anyway would feel rude, so Aya stopped and turned back to face Sakura.
Let’s get to it, then — she conveyed with a look, and Sakura, seeming to notice, pressed her hands together bashfully near her chest, blinking her long lashes a few times.
“So, um, the thing is — it’s kind of like a confession—”
Confession. By definition, that could mean revealing something previously hidden, not necessarily romantic. Meaning she was about to tell Aya something she’d been keeping to herself until now. What could it be?
Surely not — or, maybe—
As Aya frowned, turning that thought over, Sakura smiled, as if she’d seen right through it.
“—I’ve liked you for a long time, senpai. Please go out with me.”
The classroom noise seemed to drop dead silent for a moment.
Students who’d been eavesdropping covered their mouths; those who’d caught even a fragment of it turned wide, disbelieving eyes this way. Among them was Yuki, eating lunch up at the front with Endo and the others. She dropped the food she’d been holding with her chopsticks straight into her lunch box, mouth hanging open in shock.
“Huh?”
All Aya could manage was a blank, dumbfounded sound.