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“I think I like Natsusawa,” the girl confessed in front of her friends, blushing. The admission sparked a wide range of reactions within the group.
Suzuka and Chisa gasped in surprise, their faces lighting up with wide smiles.
Kaoruko and Madoka exchanged a worried glance, unspoken concerns flickering in their eyes.
And Subaru… Subaru felt a cold weight settle in the pit of her stomach, a sudden pressure that stole the air from her lungs.
“Ayu! That’s great!” Chisa exclaimed. “I think you two would make a wonderful couple. Don’t you agree, Kaoruko?”
Kaoruko hummed noncommittally in response, stealing a glance at Subaru, who had suddenly lost her appetite. Her bento lay untouched on her lap.
Suzuka and Chisa did not notice at all. They were too busy asking follow-up questions, which Ayumi answered bashfully.
“Well, when we met, he shared his story with us about what troubled him in middle school,” she explained, recalling where it had begun for her. “It was something very personal. He didn’t have any obligation to open up like that, but he did, just to help me.”
Ayumi toyed with the food in her bento.
“It struck me that he was very kind.”
“He is,” Subaru agreed quietly, her eyes fixed on her own untouched food.
Madoka and Kaoruko exchanged another worried look.
“After that, a lot of time passed, but I would still think about it sometimes. And now that we’ve met again after the trouble between the schools… I don’t know. I think I’m interested in him.”
“I wanted to ask for your help,” Ayumi added. “Since we’re meeting with them later today to give them chocolate for Valentine’s Day, could you help me get a moment alone with him?”
“Are you planning on confessing?” Madoka asked. Subaru flinched at the word.
“I got him some chocolate too,” Ayu confirmed.
“I think I need to check something with Toki-sensei,” Subaru apologized as she hurriedly stood up from her spot. “I’ll see you in the classroom.”
Before anyone else could respond, Subaru was already on her way to the restroom, desperate to be alone with her thoughts.
She splashed cold water onto her face and rubbed a wet, chilled hand over the back of her neck, trying to steady herself.
A shaky breath slipped past her lips.
It had taken her far too long to understand her own feelings.
When Kaoruko had first nudged her to think about them, she scoffed at the idea. Her? interested in someone? Impossible.
But she had seen the seriousness in Kaoruko’s expression.
She knew she had to at least give that train of thought a chance.
And she had found out relatively quickly that, in fact, Natsusawa had a special place in her heart.
How could he not?, she thought.
She remembered how they had met. His sharp temper flaring as he defended those dear to him.How quickly he had apologized afterward. How he had rushed to her side, the others following close behind, when they were confronted by delinquents. How he had made it clear that he already considered her a friend. How he had got her donuts, noticing she hasn't eaten. How he worried about her joining their activities. How he put real effort into improving his teaching, all to help others.
To help her.
He understood her in a way the others could not, not even Kaoruko.
And she understood him too.
Two kindred souls.
Kind? Of course he is kind. She thought bitterly, remembering Ayumi’s words. How would she know? she doesn't even know half of it.
After the quick realization of her feelings after Kaoruko’s poking, she tried to convince herself that these newfound feelings were not necessarily romantic.
How could they be, when she had always been alien to such emotions? Always distant, unable to grasp what others meant when they spoke of love.
It had taken her a really long time to find clarity.
Until she could no longer deny it.
The longing.
How her eyes drifted to him whenever they shared a space, or searched for him through windows, now bare of curtains.
How her gaze lingered on photos with him, tracing his figure, memorizing his silhouette.
But the most revealing change came while listening to a classmate weeks before.
She had leaned in, heart racing, as the girl told the story of a confession.
She had gasped at the boy’s reply.
She had silently swooned when the friend spoke of a kiss.
She had flushed at imagined scenarios, where the story’s characters became anyone else.
Her breath caught when she realized she was thinking of Saku.
Recognition struck her: the version of herself that had always remained indifferent to other people’s tales of love was gone. Nowhere to be seen.
Where a cold indifference lived before, there was now a sweet ache.
A warm solidarity.
And a flicker of envy.
=========
Back in the classroom, she focused on the lesson and excused herself from any further conversation.
She did her best to brush off Madoka’s and Kaoruko’s concerned looks.
When the school day ended, she excused herself once more. She could not join them when they met the boys that afternoon.
She had to go home, she lied.
She opened her bag to hand the friendship chocolate to Kaoruko, so she could pass it along to the boys.
At the bottom of her bag, something caught her eye.
It was chocolate.
Specifically, a small box of chocolates. Square, burgundy, the golden lettering gleaming, wrapped with a carefully tied satin ribbon.
A fancy brand she had bought a few days earlier. She had wandered through the entire department store, weighing every option: types of chocolate, packaging, sizes, shapes, flavors, toppings, and price ranges.
It rested against her stationery.
A small note with Saku’s name dangled from the ribbon.
She closed her bag with a quick motion, unwilling to look at the chocolate any longer. It was a painful reminder.
Gathering all her willpower, she wished Ayu good luck before leaving.
They were both important to her, so she would wish her luck, even if it hurt to do so.
It did not matter that her heart screamed at her to resent the girl.
She hurried outside, wanting to be alone, wanting to get home and curl up on her bed, stewing in her own frustrations. Kaoruko intercepted her near the school gates.
“Subaru, wait.”
The silver-haired girl turned, wary, her expression carefully neutral.
“Kaoruko, I know what you’re thinking. I’m okay,” she lied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go home. Please say hi to the boys for me.”
Kaoruko reached out and caught her by the elbow just as Subaru was about to turn on her heel.
“It’s too late,” Subaru blurted out. “It took me too long to figure things out.”
“Subaru, it’s not too late.”
“What do you want me to do?” Subaru cut in, her neutral tone slipping into irritation. “I’m not interfering. I can’t. Ayu is my friend, and so is he. It’s not like he’s mine. He never was.”
By the time she finished speaking, her voice had turned bitter. Kaoruko was left momentarily at a loss for words.
“Chisa is right. They do make a nice couple…” Subaru added quietly.
“They barely know each other,” Kaoruko protested.
“Like that’s ever stopped anyone,” Subaru shot back, bitterness spilling out before she could stop herself. “You barely knew Tsumugi when you started crushing on him.”
Kaoruko’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Subaru apologized quickly, lowering her gaze to the floor. “I’m just… I’m sorry. I’m not in a good mood.”
It’s okay. It’s kind of true, after all,” Kaoruko said with a small chuckle. She then took Subaru’s hand. “I know you probably want to be alone right now, but you know you can talk to me, right? Whenever you feel like it.”
“I lost him,” Subaru said, her voice trembling as she fought back tears. “I took too long to figure myself out, and when I finally did, it was too late.”
She squeezed Kaoruko’s hand.
“It’ll be better for him to be with someone more decisive, like Ayumi. Someone who can enter a relationship with a lot less baggage.”
She let go and turned away.
They said their goodbyes, Kaoruko reminding her once more that she was there if Subaru wanted to talk. Subaru responded noncommittally and walked off.
The trip home passed in a blur. Her routine carried her along familiar paths, her feet moving without a second thought.
When she arrived home, she hurried up the stairs, avoiding any interaction with the rest of the household. She took the box of chocolates from her bag and set it on her desk, unsure of what to do with it.
She curled up on her bed and let the tears that had been stinging her eyes spill freely.
The hours stretched on as the sky darkened beyond her window. She ignored the pings from her phone. She did not want to talk to anyone.
At some point, her mother poked her head through the door and asked about dinner.
Subaru excused herself. She was not hungry.
Her mother lingered for a moment, concern plain on her face as she took in the sight of her daughter bundled on the bed, still in her uniform, and the unopened box of chocolates resting on the desk. The conclusion was easy to draw, and she chose to give Subaru her space.
Subaru woke up at some point, unsure of the hour. She had not meant to fall asleep. She reached for her phone.
It was almost eight in the evening, and a long list of unread messages waited for her.
She opened the messaging app and scrolled through the senders.
Kaoruko and Madoka had each messaged her privately. She did not feel like reading those yet.
There were several messages in the group chat with the boys, and many more in the girls-only chat that included Ayumi, Chisa, and Suzuka. She definitely did not want to open those either.
One name caught her attention. Direct messages, rare enough to stand out.
Her finger moved to open them before she could stop herself.
Saku: The girls said you weren’t feeling well. Is everything all right?
Saku: Thanks for the gifts, by the way.
Her heart stirred with a contradictory mix of joy and pain. He was, of course, referring to the friendship chocolate she had given them through Kaoruko, meant for all four of them.
Her gaze drifted to the box still resting on her desk.
She returned to the messaging app, unsure of how to respond, or whether she should respond at all.
She opened the group chat with the boys. The messages there were mostly details about where they had met, along with a couple of thank-you notes addressed to the girls.
Then, with a sense of dread, she opened the girls’ chat and skimmed through the messages until something caught her eye.
Ayumi: I was rejected.
Subaru shot upright in bed as if struck by lightning. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her arm and reread the message several times, unable to believe it.
A swirl of emotions washed over her.
Selfish relief.
Newfound hope.
And crushing guilt.
Guilt at finding happiness in her friend’s pain.
She scrolled through the rest of the messages.
Suzuka: What!?
Chisa: He didn’t want to even give it a chance?
Ayumi: He was gentle about it, but he said he didn’t return my feelings.
Ayumi: He was adamant...
A fresh pang of guilt shot through Subaru. She berated herself as selfish, yet she could no longer stop it.
A warm feeling was spreading through her, weight lifting from the bottom of her stomach. Guilt still gnawing at her in the back of her mind. Shame and relief colliding inside her.
Her eyes drifted once more to the box on her desk, and a new type of determination eclipsed everything else.
Maybe it wasn’t too late after all.
She sprang out of bed and glanced down at her wrinkled uniform. Moving quickly, she changed into something else, grabbed a coat, a scarf, and the box.
“I’m going out for a moment!” she called, racing down the stairs.
“At this hour?” her mother asked, raising an eyebrow as she watched her disheveled daughter slip on sneakers by the door. She grinned. “If you’re going to deliver that chocolate, you should at least fix your hair, you’ve got bed hair.”
Subaru flinched at the mention of chocolate. She didn’t want to confirm or deny anything and simply approached the mirror near the entrance to follow her mother’s advice.
“Bye, Mom! I’ll be back shortly!” she said, bolting out the door before her mother could respond. Her mother scoffed; she’d have to ask more questions soon enough.
Subaru sprinted to the station, and once she boarded the train, she pulled out her phone to send a message.
Subaru: Are you at home?
A few minutes later, the reply came.
Saku: ???
Saku: Yes, why?
By then, Subaru was stepping off the train, trying to recall the way to his house, so she didn’t bother responding.
She paused in front of the Natsusawa residence. The street was empty and dark, while warm light spilled from the windows—surely him and his family at home.
She stopped to catch her breath after all the running. For a moment, she lingered, starting to overthink.
She had come all this way without considering the possibility that he might reject her. If he hadn’t hesitated to turn Ayumi down, he could easily do the same to her.
I’m putting him in this awkward position twice in one day, but… I need to get this off my chest.
She typed a reply now.
Subaru: I’m outside.
Short. Concise. No turning back now.
She leaned against the fence, and a few minutes later, she heard the front door creak open.
“Hoshina?” His voice was uncertain, his expression surprised.
He stepped into view, wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants, with a jacket that looked far too light for February. Subaru felt a flicker of guilt for not giving him any warning.
“Natsusawa,” she greeted him, her voice higher than she intended. “Sorry for showing up so suddenly.”
“It’s alright. Are you okay?” His concern was clear in his tone.
“Yes… I think. I wanted to give this to you.” She held the box out of her bag. “And I was also wondering if you’re free this Saturday. There’s an event I’ve been wanting to go to, and I wanted to see if you’d like to come with me.”
He hadn’t expected that at all.
He reached out cautiously and took the box, holding it with both hands as if it were fragile, as if it might vanish at any moment.
He couldn’t deny that his heart had sunk earlier when he noticed Subaru was missing from the group. She hadn’t even been there to hand him the friendship chocolate she’d prepared for all of them. That alone had worsened the sour mood he’d carried through the couple-focused holiday, with his one-sided crush weighing on him.
Then this girl, Sawatari, had confessed, and he’d had to reject her politely, adding another layer to his sour mood.
He had been ready to call it a night, glad the day was finally over… when Subaru arrived, as always, and upended his world in unexpected ways.
“Hoshina,” he sighed, trying to steady himself. Then he spoke slowly, choosing each word with care. “If you say things like that, you’re going to create misunderstandings.”
“There is nothing to misunderstand,” Subaru said, her face serious, though her hands trembled as she clutched the strap of her bag.
“I’m asking you on a date.”
He was at a loss for words. He had worked so hard to keep his feelings buried, to maintain distance, to measure everything he said to her.
He had assumed his feelings were one-sided. It couldn’t be any other way, right?
And now she was standing in front of him, asking him out, offering what was clearly honmei chocolate.
“Oh, well… don’t worry, you can say no,” she said, hugging her bag and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You can keep the chocolate. Sorry if the invitation made you uncomfortable. Just forget I said anything.” Her voice trembled slightly.
“I… I think I would like that.”
Subaru blinked at him, confused.
“Forgetting?”
“No. I mean…” He still stared at the box in his hands, unable to meet her eyes. “A… date.”
He toyed with the words on his tongue, still incredulous at how things had turned out.
Subaru, who had been holding her breath, finally exhaled. The corners of her lips lifted into a small, shy grin.
It was just a small hint of her excitement, and she had to restrain herself from bouncing on her feet.
“You don’t sound convinced. You’re not agreeing just to humor me, right?” she asked, trying to sound teasing, though a flicker of uncertainty lingered in her voice.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“So I’ve heard,” she mumbled.
He averted his eyes, flustered at the implication.
“Why?” Saku asked suddenly. “Why me?”
“Because I like you,” she said matter-of-factly, words coming to her easier and easier.
The words struck him, squeezing at his heart. He didn't know what to do anymore about anything.
He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to gather some courage.
“I… like you too,” Saku confessed. “It’s been like that for a while.”
Subaru’s eyes widened. A while? What did he mean by a while?
As she was thinking over her next words, the front door creaked again.
“Brother?” Mio called, looking for him. Instead, she froze, seeing her dear brother standing there with a stunning cutie and a box of chocolates in his hands. Both of them looked back at her like deer caught in headlights.
A wide grin spread across the little girl’s face.
“Oh! Am I interrupting something?”
“Not at all! I need to go back anyway,” Subaru exclaimed, her nervous high pitch returning full force as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Saku remained too dumbfounded to say anything.
“And you should go inside, you must be cold,” Subaru added, glancing at him.
He realized then that he was horribly underdressed. If he had known how the evening would turn out, he would have worn something better than a t-shirt, sweatpants, and flip-flops. At least his constant blush helped counter the cold breeze.
“See you on Saturday?” he asked, mostly to reassure himself that this was real and not his imagination.
She hummed happily and nodded.
“Let’s talk details over text,” she said, stepping closer, cautiously, measuring this new, delicate situation, and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“Good night!” she added, flustered, before turning and running toward the station once more.
He was awestruck.
Mio, who had watched everything unfold, was equally awestruck.
Kinako sat beside her, wagging his tail.