At that moment, everyone in class was glued to the drama. A love triangle. A schoolyard showdown. Two guys fighting over one girl. The whole scene was practically ripped from a daytime soap.
In the otherwise mundane rhythm of school life, this was high-octane chaos—pure entertainment.
Kuroba Akira, for his part, was just standing there munching on metaphorical popcorn, spectating his own crisis.
He hadn't expected the class rep to step in and handle things herself.
Originally, he'd assumed she was just using him as a tool—but now it seemed she might've been waiting for a way to create a clean break, to finally shut Sumiya Ryouta down for good.
Sumiya stood there speechless, looking like he'd just been dumped. Ashen-faced, bitter, crushed.
Anger bubbled under the surface, but with nowhere to release it, he turned it toward Akira.
Watching Akira's unaffected, aloof expression only made him more furious.
You're acting so calm because you knew Hitomi would protect you! That's why you can look so smug, huh?!
Hiding behind a girl, letting her fight your battles… what kind of man are you?!
You freeloader! You spineless mooch!
He didn't say it out loud, but Akira could see all of that radiating from Ryouta's glare.
Immature kids always suck at managing their emotions...
Let's hope this doesn't end with him going full edge-lord, turning spiteful and unhinged. You never know with Japanese high school boys—some of them can be terrifyingly extreme.
Better to kill that risk before it takes root.
With a sigh, Akira stood up, patted the class rep on the shoulder, and said,
"Class Rep, go have lunch with the rest of the Literature Club."
Anri Hitomi blinked. She'd assumed her words had already made things clear. Once Sumiya lost face, he'd back off, and the issue would be settled.
She didn't expect Akira to stand up now.
"What about you, Kuroba-kun?"
"He came here to talk to me, after all. Sometimes, accepting the glove someone throws at you is just good manners."
Akira gave her a calm look, one that said: Leave this to me.
Anri understood. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded.
"…All right. But if this turns into a fight, I'm going straight to Kobayakawa-sensei."
"Nah, don't worry. Just a friendly conversation between men."
With that, Akira stepped away from his desk and made his way toward the back door, pausing to beckon at the still-stunned Ryouta with a crooked finger.
"Let's go. Didn't you have something to say? I'll do you the honor of listening."
Ryouta snapped out of his daze and quickly followed.
Once they were outside, Akira asked,
"So, where to? You pick the spot. Or do you want to just talk out here in the hallway? You realize people are still watching, right?"
"…Follow me."
Ryouta led him out of the school building, around to the back of the PE equipment shed—a quiet, rarely visited spot during lunch break. Perfect for bullying scenes, honestly.
That said, bullying was rare at Hibiya High—or at least, obvious bullying was. The kind of students who got into this school weren't dumb enough to do something as reckless as extorting lunch money.
Once they reached the spot, Akira jammed his hands in his pockets and opened the conversation.
"All right. What do you want to ask?"
Ryouta had spent the walk thinking. As his rage subsided, he realized Akira might not be the manipulative bastard he'd imagined—nor some coward hiding behind a girl's skirt.
With his emotions cooling, Ryouta was starting to think more clearly. There were a lot of things he needed answers to.
"…What's your relationship with Hitomi?"
"Classmates."
"Don't screw with me! You know that's not what I meant! What the hell did you do?!"
Akira blinked innocently.
"Did what?"
"Cut the crap! I know that bento was for you! But Hitomi told us herself—she said she'd never cook for anyone until she was married!"
"Oh?"
Wait, that's a thing?
Akira hadn't realized that making someone lunch carried such loaded implications.
Now that he thought about it—how did Ryouta know that?
Guess he's not just some rando bootlicker after all.
Before Akira could ask about their history, Ryouta—his face contorted in a mess of emotion—blurted out,
"Are you… her fiancé?"
"Huh? What century are we living in? Fiancé?"
Akira was speechless. Arranged marriages? Seriously? What is this, a Taisho-era romance?
"Nothing else makes sense! It's the only way she'd cook for you—if there's an engagement or something!"
"…Dude, I think you're overthinking this. Why would you jump to that conclusion?"
"She told us. With her own mouth. That she'd only ever make bento for her future husband. I'm her childhood friend."
"Oh ho…"
So that's it. Childhood friends. Osananajimi. That explained the way he called her 'Hitomi-chan'—not an affectation, but a remnant from when they were close.
With that kind of history, of course he assumed he was her closest friend. He probably thought he was looking out for her best interests.
But the truth? Their bond had frayed since starting high school. She'd drifted away from him. So when some mysterious transfer student—Akira—suddenly slipped into the spot he used to hold, even getting closer to her than Ryouta ever did, it felt like he'd been NTR'd in real time.
I knew her first! I'm supposed to be her closest friend!
This was jealousy. Pure and bitter.
Watching the girl he'd grown up with now standing at someone else's side—it must've driven him mad.
Damn… so he thought I was the blonde bastard here all along…
But that just meant Ryouta hadn't understood the real issue. He'd been living in a delusion.
"Man… kids are a pain in the ass…"
Akira muttered in dialect, frustration bleeding into his voice.
He was starting to get annoyed, too.
Turned out he wasn't dealing with a love rival—he was dealing with decades of unresolved childhood drama.
"So, since you two are childhood friends, how'd things end up like this?"
"I wish I knew!"
Ryouta finally snapped, shouting—not at Akira, but at the fog in his own heart.
"There were five of us back then… we always played together. But then one day, Hitomi just suddenly said she wasn't going to hang out with us anymore…"
"Did she give a reason?"
"No! That's the problem—I don't know why! I just wanted things to go back to how they used to be…"
"Did you ever ask her?"
"Of course I did! But she never gave me a straight answer."
"No straight answer… but she did say something, right? Even if she didn't spell it out, couldn't you hear what she meant between the lines?"
Akira knew well—Anri Hitomi was a master of controlling how much of herself she revealed. Her acting might not be professional, but she had definitely leveled it up through sheer necessity.
A girl's thoughts were often layered, tangled, and subtle. You had to approach them like a detective unraveling a murder case—pick apart every hint, every pause.
But hit the right nerve, and she'd show you her heart.
After all, this is the same class rep who can smile sweetly while cursing you out mid-sentence. She's got a dominatrix streak for sure.
At Akira's question, Ryouta was forced to recall it—the last time Hitomi had ever called him "Ryouta-kun."
That was it…
That was the day everything started to change.
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T/N: tsk some adults never grow up either treating life as if they are still in highschool
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I DONT THINK ANY OF YOU READS THE THOUGHTS SECTION SO IM GONNA JUST TRY POSTING IT HERE
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say thank you to Girantina for that thoughtful message