Chapter One | The One Left Out at the Group Date Was a Former Super Popular Idol

♣♣♣

Koto University

Koto University, a private institution, is renowned for having the highest academic standards among private universities and for gathering some of the nation’s top athletes. It’s a prestigious school that has produced countless distinguished figures and numerous elite athletes who represent Japan.

At this university, where both academic and athletic excellence converge, I’ve been attending since this spring. My name is Yutaro Makishima.

Having poured my entire three years of high school into soccer, there was no way I could pass Koto University’s academic entrance exam. Instead, I got in through a sports recommendation for soccer (which basically means my brain is pretty average, or rather, below average).

“Hey, first-year! Hurry up and finish your laps!”

“Yes, sir!!!”

The Koto University soccer team is a powerhouse, having won the Kanto University Soccer League for two consecutive years. The daily training is gruelingly intense.

For us freshmen who just joined, we’re tasked more with stamina-building exercises than ball-handling drills. Right now, we’re being forced to run back and forth across the field endlessly.

About an hour after starting the sprints, the whistle finally blows to signal the end.

Almost all the first-years collapse on the spot.

The sun has completely set, and as I lie sprawled out in the middle of the field, utterly exhausted, someone peers down at me.

“You alive?”

Appearing with a squeeze bottle in hand is my teammate and fellow first-year, Seiichi Azaki.

With his characteristic curly, carefree hairstyle, he’s another sports-recommended idiot like me.

“…I’m enthusiastically dead.”

“Oh, dead, huh? Then you won’t mind if I splash you with water, right?”

Azaki flips the open squeeze bottle upside down and douses my face with water.

The torrent of water floods my nose and mouth, and I choke, coughing violently.

“Cough, hack! You jerk! Quit messing around, Azaki!”

Half-furious, I chase after him, but Azaki easily outruns me with his boast-worthy speed.

“Hey, hey, don’t get that mad!”

“Dammit, we ran that much, so how the hell are you still so energetic?!”

“Well, ‘cause I’m pumped, obviously! I mean, tonight—”

Azaki winks and shoves his phone screen in my face.

On it, there’s a chat between him and someone else.

They’re going back and forth, planning something, with the word “group date” popping up over and over.

“You know that girl in Izawa’s seminar, ‘Aihara,’ right?”

“Oh… the one you said was cute before?”

“Exactly! The other day, I got some girls from Izawa’s seminar to set up a group date with Aihara-san!”

Azaki, practically vibrating with excitement, grabs my collar and shakes me while bragging.

“Isn’t that awesome?!”

“Hmm.”

“And! That group date’s tonight at eight!”

“Cool.”

“…Why’re you acting like you don’t care? Anyone who sees Aihara-san’s boom-curvy-boom body would pitch a tent in their—”

“Whatever, man. If the group date’s at eight, hurry up and get going.”

I shoo him off with a wave, and Azaki lets out a creepy “Mufufu” laugh.

“Makishima, you’re coming too!”

“…Huh? What?!”

“There’s four girls, but the guys’ side was short, so I threw your name in.”

“Are you kidding me?! Hey!”

I lunge at Azaki, pissed, but he gracefully dodges and tosses the squeeze bottle at me.

By the time I catch it with both hands, Azaki’s already waving and making his escape.

“Come on, man, it’s about time you got with a girl! If you keep chasing nothing but soccer balls, you’ll die without ever getting any action!”

“Shut up!”

With his signature crude joke as a parting shot, Azaki skips off the field.

That guy’s always bragging about his experience with women and teasing me, which pisses me off.

What’s even more annoying is how he doesn’t flaunt that experience in front of girls, acting all smooth instead.

“Whatever, I’m ignoring the group date. Time for some extra practice.”

As I stand up to start my solo training, Azaki comes jogging back.

“Makishima! Forgot to mention one thing.”

“What now? If it’s about the group date, I’m not—”

“For a fashion-clueless guy like you, I brought a jacket.”

“A jacket? Mind your own business.”

“Mind my own business? Dude, you’re always in a tracksuit! Even on days with no practice, you show up to lectures dressed like some delinquent from the sticks!”

Azaki hits a sore spot.

It’s true I don’t care about clothes, and, ugh, I can’t even argue back.

Coming from an all-boys school and spending my life on soccer, there’s no way I’d call myself fashion-savvy.

Back in high school, I lived in a dorm, never had a girlfriend, and never paid attention to grooming.

“A group date’s like a job interview, got it? You’re selling your value to the girls.”

“Tch, acting all high and mighty…”

“Anyway! I hung the jacket in your locker, so wrap up your little practice session quick and show up at the place I told you!”

With that, Azaki heads off for good.

A group date, huh…

I stare at the soccer ball lying at my feet.

Soccer’s the only thing my heart’s ever really clung to.

A few other first-years and I keep kicking the ball around until the field’s lights are about to shut off.

☆☆

The group date is apparently being held at a rental space near the university with karaoke facilities, so I decide to head back to my apartment to shower off the sweat.

I return to my room in a twenty-year-old apartment building, an eight-minute walk from campus. After showering and changing, I throw on the black jacket Azaki lent me and head out.

“Ugh, it’s a bit chilly.”

Early spring in Tokyo still carries a cold breeze.

I was warm earlier from kicking the ball around, but after the shower, my body can’t handle the cold. I stop by a convenience store on the way to buy a hand warmer and shove my hands into the pockets of Azaki’s jacket.

“Hm? What’s this?”

My hand brushes against something in the pocket—some kind of rubbery thing and a piece of paper folded multiple times.

“That little pervert… why the hell would he put this in the pocket?”

Even as I say that, I slip the item into my wallet.

(Well… you never know if things might head in that direction.)

“And what’s with this paper?”

Unfolding the heavily creased paper, I start to make out some writing.

To my best friend, Makishima

A letter for me?

Makishima, you’ve got a mission. At this group date, all the other guys are set to sit across from the girls they’re targeting. So, since you don’t have a target, take the leftover seat and make sure to take home the leftover girl sitting in front of you! From your best friend, Azaki

In an age of smartphones, why the hell would he go out of his way to write a letter? I can’t wrap my head around it.

I glance over the letter a few times while walking.

Basically, he’s saying they’ve all got girls they’re aiming for, so I’m supposed to play nice with the leftover one? Man, Azaki’s got some nerve thinking he can just use me like that.

I’m already doing them a favor by showing up to even out the numbers, and now they want me to “take home” the spare girl?

“Are you kidding me—?!”

Fired up with anger, I start to tear the letter apart but notice there’s writing on the back too.

“—If you complete the mission, there’s a reward. The reward is those new cleats you’ve been wanting, plus two SS-seat tickets to the third match of Tokyo Frontier! (Go with that girl!) I’m serious, Makishima, I’m counting on you!”

“Azaki, you… I’ve got the best friend ever.”

For me, who’s been dying for new cleats, this reward is just too perfect.

All I have to do is show up to this group date to even out the numbers, and I get all this? It’s a total win.

Hyped to the max, I head to the venue in high spirits, arriving at a rental space just five minutes from campus.

Laughter spills out from inside the room.

Sounds like they’re already having a blast.

“Excuse me!”

“Makishima! You’re late, man!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

I shoot Azaki a wink as I walk in.

Azaki, picking up that I read his letter, winks back at me.

“Finally made it, Makishima.”

“Yeah, I showed up… (Now hand over those cleats already.)”

Inside the rental space are three guys from the soccer team and four girls.

They’re chatting lively across a long table, guys on one side, girls on the other. But as I enter, all the girls’ eyes snap to me.

“Uh, I’m Yutaro Makishima. Same soccer team as these guys.”

“Nice to meet you, Makishima-kun!”

“Hey, Makishima-kun, come sit!”

Urged by a bold-looking girl with straight hair and a soft, wavy short-bob girl, I take a seat at the far end of the guys’ side.

“Aihara, Makishima-kun’s here. Lucky you!”

“Yuko, stop it!”

The girl with her hair in a side-up style, sitting diagonally across from me, is Aihara.

She’s the one Azaki’s got his sights on.

She’s definitely a cut above the rest in terms of looks.

—But that doesn’t matter one bit.

To me, the girls sitting across the table might as well be cleats.

Those brand-new, super lightweight, perfectly fitting cleats—I tried them on at the store but couldn’t afford them.

I’m gonna wrap up this group date quick and get my hands on those cleats.

“So, how about we pair up and chat one-on-one until the food arrives? We’ll use an app’s roulette to decide who talks to who first.”

Everyone responds to Azaki’s suggestion with a loud “Woo!” and the roulette starts spinning.

☆☆

The one-on-one conversations took place across the room, with everyone spreading out to different spots.

Once we finished a round, we could freely talk with anyone we wanted to keep chatting with.

First, I got paired with the soft, wavy-haired girl, then the bold-looking one, so I exchanged introductions and talked about various things.

Both felt like typical college girls. The wavy-haired Takano, apparently, posts fashion videos on social media and has over 100,000 followers.

The bold-looking Igarashi is on the track team, supposedly a rising star who’s won national championships consistently since elementary school.

And then, after Igarashi, came Aihara.

“Um… I’m Yuzu Aihara. You’re Makishima-kun, right?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Aihara blinks rapidly, her eyes darting around, never quite meeting mine.

We haven’t even talked yet, but did I do something wrong?

“I happened to catch the B-team match the other day…”

“Oh, you mean the one where I flubbed a trap and they scored on a counter? Man, I looked so lame.”

“No, that’s not true! That happened because you, a forward, were dropping back to midfield for post-play, which you’re not used to, and got pressed hard by their defensive midfielder, leading to the turnover. It wasn’t really your fault—more like the whole team was playing too passively.”

“Uh, Aihara? Why’re you suddenly going off like that?”

“…!”

Aihara, who had passionately defended me, snapped back to reality when I spoke, blushing furiously.

“I-I’m a huge soccer fan!”

“Oh yeah? Favorite team?”

“Tokyo Frontier!”

“No way! I’m a Tokyo Frontier fan too!”

Oh, crap, hold on.

I always get carried away talking about soccer.

This girl’s the one Azaki’s after, so I gotta play wingman for him here.

“I-I mean, doesn’t that make you and Azaki a perfect match? That guy might look like a goof, but his soccer IQ is off the charts. Coach says he’ll probably be a starter for the A-team next year.”

“Yeah… haha,” Aihara lets out a dry laugh, grabbing her juice.

Wait, does she actually dislike Azaki?

But if I don’t help that jerk out, I might not get those cleats…

“Next up’s Azaki, right? He acts all flashy, but he’s actually a really solid guy.”

“…Yeah.”

“I bet you and him would hit it off, both being soccer fans—”

That’s when it happened.

A pale hand reached between Aihara and me, tapping the table with a soft knock.

“Aihara-san, I’m done with my round, so I came over…”

The last girl from the group was the one who sat in front of me earlier—the one with the red headband and glasses.

She’s also wearing a black mask, making her expression completely unreadable.

“S-Sorry, Sasaki-chan,” Aihara says, giving a quick bow. “Let’s talk again later, okay?” she adds before heading over to Azaki.

Azaki, I did everything I could. The rest is on you.

“…Hey, what’s your name?”

The girl who interrupted my conversation with Aihara turns to me and asks.

“I’m Yutaro Makishima.”

“Hmm.”

She’s a bit different from the other girls, with an unusually mysterious vibe. Her wavy, medium-short hair and thin eyebrows stand out.

She’s about 160 cm tall, with strikingly pale skin that almost seems unhealthy and an unusually slender frame. Even her legs, visible under her skirt, are remarkably thin.

“My name’s Ayane Sasaki. Nice to meet you, Makishima-kun.”

Ayane Sasaki, huh.

Unlike the other girls, she gives off a really calm impression.

Her outfit—a light brown cardigan and black skirt—isn’t flashy at all.

I thought girls at group dates would be more loud and party-like, but seeing Aihara and this girl, I guess some come with a different vibe.

“You seem kinda different from the others, Sasaki. Why’d you come to this group date?”

“I was dragged here to even out the numbers…”

“No way! Actually, I got roped in for the same reason—”

“That’s totally a lie.”

Sasaki mutters under her breath, looking away.

“Huh? I’m not lying—”

“The other three girls were talking about you nonstop on the way here.”

About me…?

What the hell does that even mean?

As I stand there, dumbfounded, Sasaki murmurs, “I see.”

“Basically, you got used as bait, didn’t you?”

“Bait?”

“Yeah, bait to lure the other girls here.”

“…Bait?!”

That’s it! That’s why I was forced into this group date, and why the girls reacted like that when I walked in—it all makes sense now.

“That jerk Azaki! He’s no partner, no best friend—using me as bait? What a scumbag!”

“You mad?”

“Of course I’m mad! He used me as a pawn!”

“Hmm… Well, I’ve got a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?”

“I want to get out of here ASAP. You’re pissed about being used as bait, so we’re on the same page. Our interests align.”

“So, you’re saying… we ditch this place together?”

“Exactly. And… I’ll show you something, just for you.”

“Show me? Show me what?”

The moment I ask, Sasaki takes off her glasses and pulls down her mask, then downs her juice.

A small mole just below her lips…

And those slightly sharp, mischievous eyes…

This face… I’ve seen it somewhere.

“Don’t you recognize me?”

—!!

Three years ago, while I was lounging in a kotatsu, watching TV, a memory comes flooding back.

“Y-Y-You… no way, Kira—!”

“Shh! Come on, let’s go, Makijima!”

It’s clicked completely.

She’s not Ayane Sasaki.

Three years ago, when I was a first-year in high school, she was the official manager for the National High School Soccer Championship… an idol!

Sasaki puts her mask and glasses back on, grabs my hand, and heads toward Igarashi.

“Igarashi-san! I totally hit it off with Makijima-kun, so I’m bailing, okay?”

“W-Wait a sec, Sasaki-chan! Makijima-kun is—”

“Hey, Makijima! You’re good to go!”

The girls, hearing this, suddenly look annoyed.

Azaki and the other two idiots give me winks as they send me off.

Azaki, you tricking me like that was a red-card, three-match-suspension-level crime, but thanks to Ayane Sasaki, it’s turned into the greatest killer pass in history.

Because, man, this girl who showed up just to make up the numbers—

Sasaki and I run hand-in-hand, breaking free to the outside.

“We really ditched them, huh, Makijima-kun?”

“Yeah…”

We keep walking and sit side by side in the grassy riverbed in front of the university.

“I’ll cut to the chase. Are you that former idol… Kiraboshi Ayane?”

“Ding, ding, ding! So you did know.”

“Every Japanese person knows your name, c’mon.”

Kiraboshi Ayane was the centerpiece of the national idol group Genesistars… or at least, she was, until she suddenly retired from showbiz two years ago—a former top idol.

If I remember right, she quit to focus on her studies or something…

“Kiraboshi Ayane, you were the unshakable center of Genesistars, right?”

“Wow, your knowledge is kinda shallow, huh?”

“Oh, right! You were also the official manager for the National High School Soccer Championship, weren’t you?”

“That’s just ‘cause you were in the soccer club, isn’t it? Don’t you know anything more about me?”

“Look, I wasn’t exactly a Kiraboshi fanboy or anything… that’s about all I know.”

“Then I’ll teach you myself.”

She stretches her hand toward the starry sky.

“—Genesistars. An idol group of ninety handpicked girls, all aiming for that initial spark of brilliance. But only the girl who truly shone like a star could become the center—and that was me.”

“What, so this is just you bragging?”

“Yup, bragging! ‘Cause I can shine just like the stars in this night sky—”

Sasaki stands up, spreading her arms even wider as she gazes at the starry expanse.

“—or at least, that’s what I thought.”

“But?”

“I ended up clashing with another girl in the group. She and I were the center and the leader—our relationship was a big deal. If rumors of us not getting along got out, it could’ve torn the group apart.”

“So, you didn’t quit to ‘focus on your studies,’ huh?”

“Obviously. Kiraboshi Ayane couldn’t just say, ‘I’m quitting ‘cause I fought with a member!’ Because of me, that other girl ended up quitting too, and Genesistars lost both its center and its leader. Pretty hopeless, right?”

I can’t find the words to respond.

If I were some cool manga protagonist, I’d probably say something like, “That’s not true!” or “It’s not your fault!” to defend her. But right now, I’m not nearly noble enough to pull that off.

“Phew, I’m all sweaty from running for the first time in forever. Wanna take a break somewhere?”

“A break, like at a love hotel?”

“L-Love ho—?! How dare you say that to a sacred idol!”

“Former idol, right?”

“That doesn’t matter!”

Sasaki’s face turns bright red with anger.

Watching her emotions shift so vividly, she feels way more approachable than you’d expect from a former idol.

The spring night breeze, which felt chilly earlier, now feels refreshing here on the riverbed.

“You’re so tactless!”

“C’mon, the way you said it made it sound like you were hitting on me.”

“Huh?!”

Sasaki’s cheeks flush red again, obvious even under the moonlight.

“Idiot! Like I’d ever hit on a guy like you from the start!”

“Yeah, yeah, fair enough.”

As I reply, I lie back on the grass.

“Even though I’m an athlete, I live a super sloppy life. I just wear the same jerseys over and over, and all the money I get from my part-time job and allowance goes straight to buying cleats. I’m kinda a hopeless case, huh?”

“Don’t get all self-deprecating! You’re a guy, aren’t you?”

“Sure, I’m a guy, but still—”

Maybe she’s matching my moody vibe, but Sasaki sits down next to me again.

This moment, the two of us sitting under the night breeze, feels kinda like youth.

“Hey, I just realized something.”

“What’s that?”

“Kiraboshi Ayane, you’re one year older than me, right?”

“Seriously, you’re only figuring that out now?”

“…S-Sorry.”

“Drop the polite talk. We’re both first-year university students.”

“S-Sorry ‘bout that.”

“I said drop it!”

Sasaki leans over and playfully pokes my nose with her index finger.

“Hey, okay, okay! So, casual talk’s fine, right, Kiraboshi?”

“Stop calling me Kiraboshi. My real name’s Ayane Sasaki.”

“Alright, Sasaki then. That work?”

“Much better.”

Sasaki flashes a grin and flicks my nose with her finger.

“Even a goofball like you is good at soccer, right? Alright, how about this former championship manager personally comes to watch you play?”

“No need to force yourself. I’ll probably just be warming the bench at the next match anyway.”

“Don’t get all mopey! Whether it’s soccer or anything else, people without ambition just get weeded out!”

“Wow, the ex-idol’s getting all fired up with the motivational speeches.”

“Listen up. I’m coming to your next match, so you better score a goal. If you don’t, it’s penalty game time!”

“P-Penalty game?”

“Yup. Let’s see… the penalty is you have to do one thing I say, no matter what. How’s that sound?”

Ugh, what a cliché promise.

Making a deal like that just piles on the pressure and makes it harder to play…

“And if I keep my end of the bargain and score?”

“…C-Congrats! Woo-hoo!”

“That’s it? Nothing else?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“A super special dinner, prepared just for you. How’s that?”

“‘How’s that?’ you say…”

“If you say no, I’ll go to Igarashi-san and the others tomorrow and spread rumors that you dragged me off after we ditched and, like, forced yourself on me or something~.”

That could get messy… or maybe not.

“Considering we ditched a hookup party to begin with, spreading rumors like that probably wouldn’t do much damage…”

“Aihara-san would be so disappointed, though.”

“Look, the one who’s into Aihara is Azaki, not me.”

“Huh? But you two were chatting so chummily. You don’t like Aihara-san?”

“I mean, sure, she’s cute. Great figure, loves soccer, seems like a pretty great girl. But since Azaki’s got his sights on her, I’m…”

“Hmm.”

“What’s with that suspicious look?”

“Anyway, putting that aside. You’re making the deal, right?”

Sasaki pokes my chest with her index finger, pressing for an answer.

Even if I don’t score in the next match, knowing Sasaki, she probably wouldn’t make me do anything too harsh. And if I do score, I get a fancy dinner on her dime.

“…Alright, it’s a deal. Whether I’m starting or coming off the bench, I’m definitely scoring in the next match.”

“Yeah, yeah! That’s the spirit of a real guy!”

After that, Sasaki asked for the date of the next match, jotted it down, and then bolted off.

“See ya, Makijima!”

A former idol, weirdly passionate like some kind of hot-blooded coach, and oddly chummy.

She was a strange one from start to finish.

It’s pretty late—should I have walked her home?

Nah, the station’s close by, and getting all protective might just creep her out, so I’ll pass.

After watching Sasaki’s figure disappear, I strolled along the riverbed back to my apartment.

I shed my jacket, stretched out on the sofa, and checked my phone. There was a message waiting on the chat app Lime.

Azaki: Total fail on the pickup here (crying). Not fair that you’re the only one who scored!

Ugh… I ended up making some weird deal with a former idol, and these guys couldn’t even manage a pickup? (Not that I did either.)

Still, I guess I came out on top here, but I’ll play along to keep the vibe.

Makijima: Nah, I just got used as an excuse to ditch the place.

Azaki: For real? That’s a relief! Guess a soccer nut like you isn’t cut out for romance, huh?

Man, Azaki’s such a pain.

Think I’ll block him for a week.

☆☆

After getting home, I took a leisurely bath, then sprawled out on my bed, still warm from the soak, and decided to look up Ayane Kiraboshi on my phone.

—Vanished genius.

—Reiwa’s iconic, national-treasure-level beautiful idol.

—Consecutive first-place wins in Genesistars’ general election.

The more I dug, the more incredible titles popped up, making it painfully clear that Ayane Kiraboshi lived in a world far beyond my wildest imagination.

“Huh, what’s this?”

While scrolling, I stumbled across a link to a dome concert from three years ago.

I’d seen Kiraboshi as the official manager for the National High School Soccer Championship and on variety shows, but I’d never watched her perform live at a concert.

Out of curiosity, I clicked the link, which took me to a video site. The moment it started playing, Ayane Kiraboshi’s face filled the screen in a close-up.

“Everyone! Let’s hear you louder! C’mon, LOUDER!”

“‘WOOOOO!!’”

On a dazzling stage set up in a dome stadium, dressed in an adorable outfit, Ayane Kiraboshi smiled brighter than anyone, radiating energy as she hyped up the crowd with her high-pitched voice.

It was hard to believe the Sasaki I’d just been hanging out with was the same person as this vibrant figure commanding the stage.

The heat of the concert venue, mirrored in the video, was matched by the comment section overflowing with fans mourning Kiraboshi’s retirement.

Maybe it’s no surprise for a former national idol, but to think Ayane Kiraboshi was loved by this many people?

A national-treasure-level beauty… Man, I’ve gotten myself tangled up with someone insane.

“Ugh, damn it! I’m supposed to be focusing on soccer, but all I can think about is Sasaki!”

The match is coming up soon. I don’t have time to waste on distractions.

She’s not an idol anymore—I need to focus on soccer.

But even as I told myself that, I kept watching Kiraboshi’s videos until I was on the verge of passing out.

The next morning.

The morning sunlight hits my face.

…Ugh, crap. Forgot to close the curtains—

“…Hah! The time!”

By the time I woke up, it was already past seven in the morning.

I’ve got a first-period lecture today, so I was supposed to wake up at six for my daily run.

“Gotta get ready fast!”

Since I overslept, there’s no time for running, and today’s lecture requires downloading and printing the handouts.

Factoring in that time, I’ve gotta leave the apartment now to make it.

I force down a convenience-store bread roll from the fridge with some water, style my hair with wax, throw on my soccer club jersey, and rush out of the apartment.

“Oh, keys, keys!”

Of course, I lock the door too.

☆☆

I sprint toward the small lecture room on the third floor.

First-period classes always have low turnout, so showing up late makes you stick out like a sore thumb.

Racing up the stairs, I manage to slip into the classroom just as the chime rings and grab a seat in the back row.

Phew, made it… just barely.

As I’m catching my breath, relieved to have arrived on time, the professor walks in.

“Today’s lecture will build on the video material we reviewed last time, with added commentary. Please take out the handouts you printed.”

P-Printed…?

Oh no. I forgot the most important thing.

I made it to class on time, but I completely forgot to print the damn handouts…!

“Crap…”

Without the handouts, I’m totally screwed for following the lecture.

As I’m racking my brain for a solution, three sheets of paper—handouts—are slid onto my desk from the side.

“Morning.”

Medium-short hair, a black mask, glasses, and that familiar perfume scent—

☆☆

“Sasaki, is that you?”

“Come on, don’t forget me the day after! After such a shocking meeting, you forget me? Are you a chicken?”

“…”

“Say something!”

Last night’s dazzling Kiraboshi Ayane concert video has me overthinking her, and now I’m nervous as hell.

Sasaki casually sits to my left, pushing the handouts she placed in front of me even closer.

“Here, take the handouts. You were in trouble, right?”

“Ugh… how’d you know?”

“You’re the only one with just a pencil case out. Obvious much? Haha!”

She clutches her stomach, laughing.

“Don’t laugh!”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ve got my tablet, so I’m good. Use them, no worries.”

She pulls a tablet and stylus from her tote bag, setting them on the desk.

“Still… feels wrong.”

“No refusing! We help each other out. You gave me an excuse to ditch yesterday, so now it’s my turn to save you. Besides, three sheets of paper are no big deal.”

“…Alright, I’ll take them. Thanks, K—Kirabo—”

“Sasaki now.”

“Sasaki.”

She shoots me a sharp look through her glasses, warning me.

As the lecture drones on, she pokes my shoulder with her tablet stylus.

“Got soccer practice after this?”

“Practice is in the afternoon.”

“Hmm, so you’re free this morning? Perfect. Actually, after this—”

“Nah, I’m hitting extra practice after the lecture.”

“Huh…?”

“…”

“…”

“Hey, you needed something, right?”

“Hold on a sec.”

She frantically fiddles with her phone.

Curious, I sneak a peek—she’s on a café’s website… wait.

“No way, you booked a place without checking?”

“I didn’t! W-What’re you assuming, idiot? Idiot!”

“What are you, a kid?”

“Shut up! I’m older than you!”

“You’re the loud ones,” a gruff voice cuts in.

The low voice we heard from afar now hits close, freezing me and Sasaki.

The professor…!

“Show me your student IDs.”