Classmate Amemiya masked her social awkwardness with a mix of arrogance and coldness, but in reality, she often reflected quietly and felt a little wronged. Sawada Tsunayoshi had the sense that he wasn’t the only one noticing this.
Because he realized that a few classmates who loved pranks and bullying had now set their sights on Amemiya.
They were the typical bullies who prey on the weak—afraid to pick on students with good grades, popularity, or strong connections, but quick to target someone like her: timid, socially awkward, and an easy target.
Tsunayoshi himself had long been accustomed to being used by them—running errands, copying homework, doing chores—constantly turned into a joke or gossip topic. They called it friendship, joking that they were “asking him as a friend,” but Tsunayoshi knew better. They never considered him a friend.
Of course, he didn’t consider them friends either. He was just a weakling, not a fool. The only reason he never resisted was that it was the easiest way to deal with things.
Even if they didn’t pick on him, someone else surely would. These few bullies weren’t evil at heart—they just had a bit of a sly streak. And if someone else bullied him in their presence, these “friends” would even step in to help.
In their eyes, he was “one of them.” Only they could pick on him; nobody else had that right.
But outside their sight, beyond school, he was on his own.
So when Tsunayoshi noticed that their pranks on him had decreased recently, he felt a brief flicker of happiness.
Until he realized—they had now turned their attention to Amemiya.
They completely ignored her arrogance and coldness, deliberately approaching her, clinging to her, insisting on being her friends—and even her followers.
And, as expected, the innocent and naive Amemiya reluctantly agreed.
Then they constantly said things to embarrass her, watching her reactions, laughing about it behind her back.
For example, after Amemiya started bringing lunch from home, she eagerly looked forward to eating with Kyoko Sasagawa and Hana Kurokawa.
She already understood that sharing lunch was a sign of closeness.
Tsunayoshi, sitting behind her on her right side, had been observing carefully and knew exactly what was going on.
And it was obvious!
Half an hour before lunch, Amemiya fidgeted nervously, holding her lunchbox in her left hand inside her drawer, glancing repeatedly at Kyoko and Hana.
She even pretended to take notes on scrap paper, writing out what she wanted to say, discarding most of it, and finally blacking out a carefully chosen line so no one would see.
“…”
Tsunayoshi saw it all.
When the bell rang, Amemiya’s heart felt like it would fly away. She forced herself to act nonchalant, slowly holding her lunchbox, preparing to elegantly stand and walk up to Kyoko, casually asking: “Do you want to eat lunch together?”
Tsunayoshi held his breath, silently cheering: Go for it, Amemiya!
But to everyone’s surprise, Kyoko and Hana arrived first.
“Amemiya, I’m sorry I didn’t notice last time that you didn’t know the school custom and didn’t bring lunch,” Kyoko said with a warm, apologetic smile. “Do you want to eat together today?”
Tsunayoshi was stunned.
Amemiya was stunned too. She had been rehearsing how to invite them, but now they had invited her—she had no plan for this!
The silver-haired girl froze in place, face tense, silent for several seconds, then, following instinct, crossed her arms and let out a proud, cold snort:
“Well, since you’re…” That was probably what she intended to say.
But she didn’t finish. Her new “friends” suddenly stood up, teasing with mock reproach:
“Kyoko-chan, what are you saying? A noble lady like Amemiya, how could she eat the same lunch as commoners? She must have her servants attend to her!”
Then, feigning surprise, they looked back: “Oh, where are Amemiya’s servants?”
…Disaster.
The topic had completely shifted.
Even Tsunayoshi himself couldn’t guarantee he would have kept his composure under such a sarcastic and backhanded “praise,” let alone Amemiya, who cared so much about her image.
Through his observations over the past few days, he understood Amemiya’s pride.
She considered herself a noble lady; she had to excel in everything. Anything less would hurt her pride. What she could not tolerate was anyone questioning her noble status.
To preserve her dignity and image, Tsunayoshi had anticipated how this would play out.
Sure enough, the silver-haired girl stiffened, crossed her arms, leaned back in her chair, and haughtily said:
“My servants would never come to school. I am not the type to abuse my status. Thank you for the offer, but I don’t enjoy group gatherings.”
“I understand,” Kyoko said kindly. “Then we’ll leave for now.”
The girl who had intentionally set Amemiya up exchanged a glance with a boy and another girl, chuckled, and left.
Other students gradually left the classroom as well.
Only Tsunayoshi and Amemiya remained.
He knew he was nearly invisible; Amemiya probably hadn’t even noticed him. So when she thought she was alone, she sat there, frustrated and hurt, covering her mouth and nose, quietly sobbing like a small animal, tears falling.
Help.
If Amemiya realized he had seen this, she would probably be mortified enough to “erase him.”
Of course, “erase” was a joke, but she would definitely ignore him from then on.
Even though she had never paid him any attention—she probably didn’t even know he existed—Tsunayoshi instinctively didn’t want that to happen.
He shrank into his seat, trying to lower his presence. Soon, Amemiya composed herself, red-eyed, and left the classroom—probably to the restroom.
Tsunayoshi finally felt relieved. He grabbed his lunchbox and dashed out, planning to eat somewhere private.
But as he passed a hallway, he overheard the familiar loud laughter coming from the lawn outside through a window.
“Hahaha, did you see her face just now?”
“Yes! Tears almost falling, yet pretending to be a noble lady—so funny!”
“Not liking group gatherings? Hahaha, does she think she’s the student council president?”
“…”
The laughter was piercing.
As a self-proclaimed weakling, Tsunayoshi had long been used to mockery and could usually ignore it.
But this time, the target was not him—and he felt angrier and sadder than when he himself was mocked.
Amemiya was nothing like what they said!
She was just awkward and poor at expressing herself. Why ridicule her like this?
Tsunayoshi flared up… and then did nothing. He said nothing, did nothing, and stormed off, angry but powerless.
He wanted to help, but he couldn’t. He was a weakling—helpless, only capable of feeling frustrated.
Yet unexpectedly, his chance to repay Amemiya came quickly.
That day, it was his “friends’” turn to do chores. Without being asked, Tsunayoshi stayed behind to help, assuming, as usual, that everyone else had left.
But when he returned to the classroom with a heavy bucket of water, he discovered that the three “friends” were still there—together with Amemiya!
The girl on the left held her arm closely, the girl on the right twirled a strand of her silver hair—the three were huddled together.
Amemiya, trapped in the middle, completely unaware of how uncomfortable the closeness was, immersed in her own world, red-eyed, her face full of embarrassment, yet pretending she could handle everything herself.
The boy in the group lounged on a desk, watching for amusement. Honestly, the way he looked at Amemiya made Tsunayoshi very uncomfortable.
Too close.
Way too close.
The atmosphere was strange.
Tsunayoshi began fearing that they intended to coerce Amemiya into something inappropriate.
After all, he had seen such scenarios in romance books!
He quickly pretended to be clueless, carrying the bucket, and clumsily tripped, spilling himself and the bucket to the floor.
The two girls screamed and recoiled.
The awkward atmosphere was destroyed!
Tsunayoshi pretended to apologize, secretly thrilled. Then, he heard Amemiya speak in a composed voice:
“Hey… do you want to be my boyfriend?”
……
Huh???
Tsunayoshi looked up, shocked. “Eh? No way… You’re talking to me?”
“Yes. Who else could it be?”
For some reason, the silver-haired girl relaxed, her sparkling emerald eyes fixed on him, pretending to glare:
“Hey… you’re going to say yes, right?”
Looking at Amemiya like this, and at the three “friends” behind her in disbelief, Tsunayoshi suddenly realized—
Amemiya had been in trouble because of them.
She wanted him to help.
She had saved him once—this was the only way he could repay her.
Yet, hesitating, Tsunayoshi asked: “But… why me? I mean, why choose me?”
His hesitation flustered the girl opposite.
Her body trembled, her eyes and nose reddened, tears glimmering.
Still, she forced herself, reaching out to help him up from the floor, drenched as he was.
Her hand was soft, cold, trembling.
She didn’t let go, clutching as if it were her last lifeline, red-eyed, face flushed with embarrassment and shyness, struggling to speak:
“Because… because I like you, Sawada… don’t you want to?”
……
At that moment, Tsunayoshi felt the world slip away.
It was just him and the silver-haired girl.
His heart raced.
His mind had only one thought.
She knew his name.
She knew him.
At that moment, Tsunayoshi realized—even if she hadn’t saved him, he would have said yes.
After all, who could refuse a gaze like that?
So even knowing it was likely just a prank, he accepted wholeheartedly.
Yes, from start to finish, Tsunayoshi knew this romance might just be a joke.
He carefully protected the fragile truth of her heart, unwilling to shatter it.
At first, he didn’t know how to confess without angering her or ruining their relationship.
Later, he simply didn’t want to let go.
He didn’t want to return to their previous distant relationship.
He wanted her to keep looking at him—angry, annoyed, blaming, upset, moved, shy, trusting… any look at all, as long as it was hers, as long as she kept her eyes on him.
He wanted to get closer, hold her hand, embrace her, pour out his heart.
But he couldn’t.
He was a coward.
If he confessed his feelings, she would reveal it was a prank and walk away.
He knew she had been hesitating over when to end things, and he couldn’t give her that opportunity.
No matter how carefully he protected her, a bubble is still a bubble—it would eventually burst.