The morning sunlight filtered through the windows of Class 2-B, casting golden rectangles across the floor. Yuuto Kurokawa stepped inside with the usual quiet tread of someone who preferred not to be noticed.
Unfortunately for him, that was no longer an option.
"Good morning, Kurokawa-kun~!"
Hikari Amamiya's voice rang out across the classroom like a firecracker. Heads turned. Conversations stopped. Yuuto froze mid-step.
So she was serious about this.
He resumed walking without acknowledging her, hoping she'd drop it if he didn't react.
No such luck.
Hikari was already out of her seat by the time he reached the back row, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she leaned casually against his desk.
"Aw, ignoring your girlfriend already? You wound me."
Yuuto raised an eyebrow. "We agreed it was fake."
"Fake dating's still dating," she replied sweetly. "At least pretend you're happy to see me, Kurokawa-kun."
He gave her a flat look. "You're making a scene."
"Exactly! That's how you sell the act."
She formed a heart with her hands in front of him. A group of students near the windows snickered. One of them whispered something that sounded suspiciously like "They're definitely together."
Yuuto sighed and took his seat. He opened his bag, pulling out his textbook, but the heat in his ears betrayed his calm expression.
He was sure she noticed.
He was right.
"You're blushing already," Hikari whispered, crouching beside his desk. "Not even the second day, and I'm winning."
"I'm not blushing."
She grinned. "You are. And it's adorable."
Yuuto looked away, focusing on the blackboard even though homeroom hadn't started yet. This game had rules. One: they had to fake date in public. Two: whoever fell in love first lost. Three: no backing out.
He'd agreed to it thinking it would fizzle out in a few days. That Hikari would get bored. But she didn't look even slightly bored now—she looked energized.
Like this was her favorite kind of challenge.
Class began, but Hikari wasn't done. In math, she passed him a note folded neatly into a heart shape. He opened it cautiously under the desk.
Inside was a stick-figure doodle of two people holding hands under a sakura tree.
Guess who~?
He didn't reply.
In English class, she gently tapped his foot under the desk. When he turned to glare, she mouthed, "You looked bored."
By the time lunch arrived, Yuuto felt like he'd run a marathon in silence.
He opened his bento at his desk, hoping—just hoping—Hikari might give him some peace.
No such luck.
"Let's eat together, Kurokawa-kun!" she chirped, pulling her chair beside his without waiting for permission. "It's what couples do, right?"
Yuuto didn't respond as she opened her cute pink lunchbox. It had little bear-shaped rice balls inside. Of course it did.
"This one has umeboshi," she said, pointing. "Want a bite?"
"I have my own lunch."
"Aw, stingy," she teased, popping one into her mouth.
Across the room, someone murmured, "They're eating together…"
Yuuto pinched the bridge of his nose. This was spiraling faster than he'd expected. And Hikari wasn't slowing down.
As they ate, she hummed a song under her breath—off-key, on purpose—and leaned slightly toward him every time she made a comment. Her shoulder brushed his twice. He didn't flinch, but he didn't move away either.
"You're surprisingly good at playing the straight man," she said.
"I'm not playing."
She smirked. "Exactly. That's what makes it convincing."
Yuuto glanced at her—just for a second. She really was something. Wearing a bright yellow hairpin that matched the ribbon on her uniform, eyes full of mischief, posture relaxed like she didn't have a care in the world.
What did she get out of this?
Was it really just a dare?
Or was there something else…?
"Staring at me already?" she whispered, eyes narrowing with a grin. "Careful, Kurokawa-kun. That's how feelings start."
He immediately looked away. "Don't flatter yourself."
She laughed—a light, easy sound that tugged at the corner of his mouth despite himself.
He hated how naturally she fit into his space. Like she'd always been there. Like she belonged.
No. That was dangerous thinking.
This was just a game. A stupid, ridiculous game.
He'd keep his distance. He wouldn't fall. He'd win.
…But when she rested her chin on her palm and smiled at him again, like he was the only person in the room—
He wasn't so sure anymore.
To be continued....