Episode 3

True to its appearance, the food was delicious — or so it must have been.

Honestly, my heartbeat never settled throughout the meal, I couldn’t tell you what I was eating, and I remember almost nothing of what we talked about.

She smiled the whole time — delicious, she kept saying, and open up, I’ll feed you — cheerful from start to finish.

I trace a water droplet on my glass for no particular reason and look around for a clock. Still early to be heading back. And yet, we should probably go.

Her behaviour is hard to predict. One moment she seems like an ordinary bright young woman her age, and the next she’s closing the distance, winding herself around me. Being near her indefinitely would require more hearts than I possess, and I have a feeling something bad will happen sooner rather than later.

“S-so, should we head back?”

I say it like someone making a run for it, and start to rise from my seat.

As I do, something feels off.

The innermost seat of the booth farthest from the entrance. The adjacent tables are empty — no one nearby. The aisle toward the exit is narrow; Seriha standing in it would be enough to block the way entirely.

Am I… trapped?

Across from me, Seriha smiles with obvious enjoyment.

This time I’m certain. Smiling as she is, the eyes watching me hold heat in them.

It’s only mid-May, but outside it’s already hot. The air conditioning inside, though, is working fine — in short sleeves I shouldn’t be feeling warm at all.

And yet a faint sweat is rising to the surface.

“Senpai.”

A sweet voice — coaxing, wanting.

It’s not as though I’m chained here. If I wanted to escape, it would be easy enough. Leave the money on the table, grab my bag, walk out at pace. Simple.

But I’ve come to think simple and possible are two different things.

“Hiito-senpai.”

This time she uses my given name. Being called that in a voice like hers is a little ticklish — but not something I dislike.

Right now, though—

“Your answer.”

My voice won’t come. A moment ago I was talking normally.

“I’m waiting for your answer.”

My answer. My thoughts won’t move. My throat is dry.

One I’m sorry and it would be over. Awkwardness would linger, but we’d go back to being senpai and kōhai who know each other’s face. That’s the rational way to think about it — but somehow, I don’t think that would work on her.

“S-sorry. I spaced out for a second. Um — w-was it the bill…?”

Pretend it didn’t happen. I’ve spent my life running from things, but there are times you simply can’t run. When that happens, the solution is to make it not have happened.

“Are you doing that on purpose? You want me to say it again.”

“Go out with me. Because I really like you.”

Not the bright smile from before. A smile mature enough to send a shiver through me settles on her face, and her hand reaches up to stroke my cheek.

The cheek she’s touched burns. My breathing goes shallow. A sound that isn’t quite a voice slips out of me.

“Please give me a proper answer. I won’t rush you — but I won’t let you go, either.”

It doesn’t look like pretending it didn’t happen is going to work.

Why she wants me this much — I have no idea. She might just be teasing me to watch me squirm.

I force down the air stuck in my throat.

“O-okay. Let’s talk. Properly, when we have time…”

I can’t look at her face. The table, the empty seat beside us, the table again. My gaze searches for somewhere to escape.

A sound I recognise from somewhere goes ping.

‘O-okay. Let’s talk. Properly, when we have time…’.

“Got it! Properly, when we have time — noted.”

From a phone far too large for her small hands, a feeble, mumbling voice played back.

When did she—

“I think I’ll listen to senpai’s little weak voice every night before I fall asleep~”

She squeals with delight, and the sound reaches me muffled, as though from a great distance.

Please, I thought. Have mercy. Knowing her, she genuinely would play it back every night before bed — and knowing her even better, she’d probably have it piped through her earphones at work too.

I turned to look out through the window at the street outside, and my own face reflected back at me — wan, wretched, defeated.