From my seat at the back of the middle row in the classroom, I could see the beautiful girl by the window.
Her face, propped up on her hand as she gazed blankly outside, showed no emotion. The dim rain clouds and the rain-streaked windowpane, blurred by wind and rain, only emphasised her quiet, ethereal beauty.

　Though the curtains remained open during daylight hours, the classroom illuminated by fluorescent lights against the gloom brought by the rainy weather was something I never quite grew accustomed to, no matter how often I experienced it. Yet, I always felt a sense of excitement in such a mismatched classroom.
It felt special.
What was she thinking about as she gazed outside now, that girl by the window —Amamiya Tōru? If she felt the same way I did, nothing could make me happier.

“—-san. —-san? Kuroda-san!”
“Eh?”
“No ‘eh’. Is the teacher’s lecture that dull? You’re always looking elsewhere.”
“Ah, sorry.”
“Pay attention. This will be in the exam.”
“Sorry.”

Geography teacher Matsuda called my name and scolded me in front of the class.
　Both the teacher and my classmates resumed the lesson as if nothing had happened. Had it been someone like the class clown getting told off, the teacher might have laughed and made light of it, and the classmates might have shown interest and laughed too.
But I’m not that kind of person.

No classmate takes any interest in me; I’m treated like air.
Whether I’m present or not makes no difference, neither beneficial nor harmful.
That’s the kind of existence I am.

　I look at her one more time.
The jewel I yearn for so intensely, Amamiya Tōru.

―――Eh?

Our eyes met.
Me, as insubstantial as air, and her, who draws everyone’s attention.
We shouldn’t even be able to meet, yet our gazes crossed.

“Hey, that bitch’s been looking over here. Annoying, isn’t she?”
“Blimey, you’re right.”

Sitting one seat ahead of me, the girl and the one to her right whispered this exchange, careful not to be overheard by Mr Matsuda. Sitting directly behind them, I heard it clearly.
Amamiya Tōru must have sensed their mood too, because she looked away from me and back out the window.

She gazed into my eyes.
She blinked.
She glanced briefly at the girls sitting in front of me.
She looked back at me.
　Blinked.
Shook her hair as she turned her head to face forward.

Each of those actions played out like frames from an old film.
My brain burned each scene into my memory.

Amamiya Tōru attracts attention at this school.

In both good and bad ways.
A physique that commands stares.
Eyes that draw you in if they meet yours.

　I cannot deny that the girls sitting in front of me called Amamiya Tōru a slut.
Nor do I intend to deny it at present.
This rumour suddenly began circulating midway through our first year of high school last year, yet its credibility was eerily high.

Because Amamiya Tōru is popular.
So popular that seeing her looks makes it feel only natural.
　It seems Amamiya Tōru was confessed to by another male student at our school the other day. How many times has this happened now? Amamiya Tōru had received confessions from several male students before this.
But Amamiya Tōru’s response was always clear. Her replies had become such clichés that it was obvious, in a roundabout way, there was no love involved.

She invariably said this to the boys who confessed:

“How much can you afford to lavish on me?”

Her voice was so sweet, so luscious, it stirred desire even in me, a woman.
Each word rolled into the ear, ensuring there was no turning back. It was phrasing designed to make him see only her.
No, it wasn’t just the phrasing.

Some boys were even allowed to touch her breasts over her clothes for free, because “it was the first time”.

With her striking looks, it was only natural that once a boy touched the chest of a girl he fancied, his eyes would see nothing but Amamiya Tōru, and his mind would be filled with thoughts of her.

Rumours tend to grow legs as they spread.

Amamiya Tōru was a slut who’d spread her legs for anyone, as long as they paid.

Such rumours circulated throughout the school, regardless of year group.

Class ended, and lunch break began.
　Since fifth period was in a different classroom and I had no friends, I took my lunch box and headed to that classroom alone. I sat down without turning on the lights.
The science lab, with its windows and curtains tightly shut, was humid. I took a bite of my side dish, self-mockingly thinking this kind of damp gloom suited me perfectly.
As I steadily pushed my chopsticks forward, she was still in my mind.

　The boy who got to touch Amamiya Tōru’s chest through her clothes dated her for a whole month.
The boy who got to stroke Amamiya Tōru’s bottom over her skirt also lasted a month.
The boy who got Amamiya Tōru to gently nibble his ear for free managed to keep her interested for three whole months.

I wonder what would happen if it were me.

I’d bow my head and confess to her.
　At this point, it’s nothing but an over-the-top fantasy. Confessing to someone of the same sex is quite something, but I’ll continue.
If she looked up at me and asked, “How much can you afford to spend on me?”, what would I say?
Like the others before me, I might ponder it for a while. Money is important, and we students, still relying on pocket money from our parents, have to be especially careful about how we spend it.

　Once I start pondering, Amamiya Tōru will likely tempt me with something.

What would she let me do for free?
Could I learn the shape of her breasts?
Could I feel the softness of her bottom?
Could I have her gently bite my ear and feel the warmth of her saliva?

I let the imagined Amamiya Tōru make me try all sorts of things.
Each one is incredibly enticing, making my heart race.

　The reason I know her actions so concretely is because I’ve actually witnessed Amamiya Toru and the former Knights confessing to her several times.
How she captivates boys, from what angles. I know. Because I saw it.
That’s why I can picture it so vividly even in my fantasies.

As I embellish and let my imagination run wild, trying to pop another piece of food into my mouth——.

“Baaah!”

She —Amamiya Tōru— appeared.
Right before my face. Eyes narrowed, wearing an innocent smile like a child who’d pulled off a successful prank.

Amamiya Tōru’s smile.

I’d never seen it before.
The first emotion she’d ever shown.

Not even when boys confessed to her.
Not even when she was seducing them —not once had emotion ever shown on her face.
　She neither laughed nor cried.
That was precisely why Amamiya Tōru was transparent and beautiful.

Or so I had thought.

“Huh? That’s odd? I thought you’d show some sort of reaction to this.”

Giggling merrily, her voice bouncing, Amamiya Tōru swayed before me, looking utterly adorable. As a girl. She possessed a pure kind of cuteness.

“Why?”
“Hmm?”

Why was Amamiya Tōru here?
I couldn’t quite voice that question to the end.
She and I were in the same class; fifth period being a mobile classroom hadn’t changed. So, whenever she chose to come to this classroom was entirely her prerogative. Asking her “why” probably wouldn’t yield an answer anyway.

　Yet somehow, she seemed to grasp what I was implying. Amamiya Tōru blushed for some reason, and then —yes, it was as if she were tempting me —she rolled the words sweetly with that enchanting tongue of hers.

“You like me, don’t you?”