The smell of chlorine clung to my hair even after I'd dried off.
It didn't matter how clean the school was—water always left a trace. Like proof you'd been there. Like proof you'd actually done something, instead of just sitting in a chair and pretending time wasn't moving.
We were in the hallway outside the pool area, the noise fading behind us. Students walked in little groups, towels over shoulders, laughter echoing.
Kushida-san walked beside me again, still smiling like she hadn't spent the entire day working a crowd like a politician.
Ayanokōji-kun walked with us too, quiet and steady. He didn't look tired. He didn't look excited. He looked… neutral.
Horikita-san was ahead. As usual, alone.
And the boys—those loud idiots—were somewhere behind us, whining about the girls being up on the balcony like the school had personally betrayed them.
I was still in a good mood.
I'd crushed the pool. I'd humiliated half the class without even trying. Kōenji had taken it seriously, and I'd still beaten him.
That was a pretty solid day.
Then Ike's voice slid in, too close.
"Senju!"
I didn't turn immediately. I let him come to me. Let him feel the distance. Let him feel the fact I wasn't in a rush.
When I finally looked back, Ike was there with Yamauchi beside him. Ike's face had that desperate intensity again—the one he always got when Kushida was anywhere in the area.
He glanced at Kushida-san, then at me.
His eyes narrowed.
Then he leaned in like he was sharing a secret.
"Listen," Ike whispered, breath too loud. "I'm aiming for Kushida-chan. Don't get in the way."
I stared at him.
Just stared.
Yamauchi nodded beside him like Ike had just delivered a heroic speech.
I slowly smiled.
Not friendly.
"What are you gonna do," I asked calmly, "if I do get in the way?"
Ike blinked.
"W-what?"
I tilted my head.
"You heard me," I said. "You're 'aiming' like she's a vending machine prize. That's cute. But if I decide I want to spend time with her, you don't get a vote."
Ike's face reddened.
"Bro, it's not like that!"
"It's exactly like that," I said, voice flat. "Also, you're talking to me like you can stop me."
Yamauchi opened his mouth. "Senju, you're acting like—"
I cut my eyes to him.
He shut up.
Behind them, Kushida-san had slowed slightly. She was pretending not to listen.
But her shoulders were tense.
She heard everything.
I looked back at Ike.
"If you wanna impress her," I said, "be normal. Stop being creepy. Stop being loud. Stop thinking she owes you anything because you can breathe."
Ike's jaw clenched. He looked like he wanted to argue.
Then his eyes flicked to Kushida-san, and his whole expression twisted into panic—like he realized she might've heard.
Kushida-san turned, smiling sweetly like an angel.
"Ike-kun?" she asked softly. "Did you need something?"
Ike nearly choked on his own throat.
"N-no!" he squeaked. "Nothing! Just—uh—talking!"
Kushida-san giggled politely.
"I see. Then let's all do our best, okay?"
She turned back forward.
Ike stared after her like his brain shut down.
Yamauchi whispered, "Bro, we're cooked."
I shrugged, then turned away.
Good.
We reached the classroom building again.
Students split off—some going to clubs, some going to the dorms, some heading toward the campus stores like they couldn't survive without buying something.
Kushida-san looked at Ayanokōji-kun with that bright smile again.
"Ayanokōji-kun," she said, cheerful, "do you want to stop by a café on the way back today?"
Ayanokōji-kun blinked, like he wasn't expecting that.
Then he nodded. "Sure."
Kushida-san's smile widened.
"Oh! Great. But wait just a second, okay?" She lifted one finger. "I want to invite one more person."
She turned immediately toward Horikita-san, who was stuffing her textbook into her bag like she wanted to escape the building before anyone spoke to her.
"Kushida-san," Horikita-san muttered without looking up, already sensing it.
Kushida-san leaned slightly, still gentle.
"Horikita-san, would you like to come with us to a café today?"
Horikita-san didn't even pause.
"Not interested."
It wasn't even rude. It was worse than rude.
It was like Kushida-san wasn't worth the time.
Kushida-san kept smiling anyway. Like it didn't cut.
"I see," she said softly. "Then I'll invite you again another time."
Horikita-san finally looked up.
Her eyes were cold. Sharp. Pretty in that dangerous way—like a blade that didn't need to be swung to make you nervous.
"Wait," she said.
Kushida-san paused, hopeful for half a heartbeat—
Then Horikita-san spoke.
"Don't invite me again. It's a bother."
The air got tight.
Even I felt it.
Kushida-san's smile didn't break.
"I'll invite you again," she replied.
It was almost absurd.
Horikita-san stared at her like she couldn't understand that kind of persistence.
Then she looked away, as if deciding Kushida-san was simply not a problem worth solving right now.
Kushida-san turned back with the same bright expression and began to move toward the door, where a couple girls were waiting for her.
Just before she left, I heard one of them whisper sharply.
"Kikyō-chan, just stop inviting her already. I hate Horikita-san…"
The door closed, cutting the sentence off.
Horikita-san must've heard.
She didn't react at all.
Not even a twitch.
That was… honestly impressive.
I glanced at her.
Horikita-san slid her bag over her shoulder and looked at me like she'd noticed my gaze.
"You won't try to invite me places, will you?" she asked flatly.
I smiled.
"No," I said. "I don't chase people who clearly enjoy being alone."
Her eyes narrowed a little.
"Good," she said. "That would be troublesome."
Then she looked at Ayanokōji-kun.
"And you?" she asked him.
Ayanokōji-kun scratched his cheek lightly.
"No," he replied. "I understand your personality well enough. It'd be pointless."
Horikita-san's expression didn't soften, but something in her eyes eased.
"I'm relieved," she said.
Then she walked out of the classroom alone.
Same as always.
For a moment, the room felt emptier after she left.
Ayanokōji-kun stood there like he was about to go too.
I was about to follow, mostly because I didn't feel like standing around in the classroom like a leftover prop.
That was when Hirata approached.
Hirata Yōsuke was the kind of guy who looked like he was built to be liked.
Clean hair. Clear eyes. Calm smile.
Even his posture was polite.
He stopped Ayanokōji-kun first.
"Ayanokōji-kun," he said, voice gentle. "Do you have a moment?"
Ayanokōji-kun blinked. "Uh… sure."
Hirata glanced at me too.
"Senju-kun," he added, polite, "if you don't mind… you're also involved with them sometimes, right?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"Involved?" I repeated. "That sounds dirty."
Hirata's smile wobbled slightly.
"…I didn't mean it like that."
Ayanokōji-kun looked away like he was trying not to react.
Hirata cleared his throat.
"It's about Horikita-san," he said. "I was wondering if something is wrong. The girls were talking about it earlier. Horikita-san always seems to be alone."
Ayanokōji-kun answered calmly. "That's just how she is."
Hirata nodded slowly.
"You're right. But… many people have voiced concerns," he said. "I don't want any bullying in our class."
The word hit heavier than it should've, because it was too early for it.
But I also understood what he meant.
People were already starting to pick targets.
Horikita was isolated.
And isolation made people brave.
I leaned back against a desk, arms loose.
"If someone tries to bully her," I said, voice calm, "I'll crush them."
Hirata blinked.
Ayanokōji-kun glanced at me, expression still mild, but his eyes sharpened a little.
Hirata looked a bit startled, then smiled awkwardly.
"That's… intense."
"It's simple," I said. "People who pick on someone weaker than them deserve to get stepped on."
Hirata gave a small sigh.
"I don't want anyone stepping on anyone," he said. "I just want the class to be stable."
Ayanokōji-kun nodded slightly.
"Wouldn't it be better if you talked to her directly?" he said. "Instead of asking us."
Hirata hesitated.
"…You're right," he admitted. "Sorry for bringing it up."
He gave a polite bow and stepped away.
I watched him go.
Hirata's the type who tries to save the room before it catches fire.
But this school doesn't hand you water.
The hallway outside the classroom was busy again.
Students flowed around us.
Ayanokōji-kun looked like he was heading back to the dorms.
I walked with him, mostly because I felt like it.
He didn't complain. He didn't ask why.
He just accepted it, like he accepted most things.
As we moved through the corridor, I glanced at his face.
Still calm. Still plain. Still quiet.
But not weak.
Not even close.
"You know," I said casually, "you're weirdly easy to walk with."
Ayanokōji-kun blinked. "Is that a compliment?"
"It's an observation," I replied.
He gave a small, uncertain nod.
"…I see."
I smirked.
"So you don't," I said.
He didn't respond.
But the corner of his mouth twitched, just barely.
It was enough.
Near the dorm area, I saw her.
Kushida Kikyou.
She was leaning against the wall, hands clasped in front of her, posture neat.
She looked like she'd been waiting for someone—patient, sweet, harmless.
Then her eyes landed on me.
And her smile brightened immediately.
"Senju-kun!" she said, cheerful. "Ayanokōji-kun too! I'm so glad!"
I slowed slightly.
"You were waiting?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied quickly. "I wanted to talk. Do you have a minute?"
Ayanokōji-kun looked a little surprised, but nodded.
"Sure," he said.
Kushida-san stepped closer.
And then she did something that would've made half the boys in class faint.
She gently took my hand in both of hers.
Warm. Soft.
Her fingers were small, but the grip was confident.
Like she wasn't nervous at all.
Like she did this kind of thing whenever she wanted someone to listen.
My eyebrows rose slightly.
Ayanokōji-kun looked away like he didn't know where to put his eyes.
Kushida-san leaned in a little, voice lowering.
"I'll just ask you outright," she said. "Senju-kun… Ayanokōji-kun… have you ever seen Horikita-san smile?"
I didn't answer right away.
I thought about Horikita's face.
That cold stare.
That sharp tongue.
That calm, isolated confidence.
Then I shook my head.
"No," I said. "Not once."
Ayanokōji-kun hesitated, then agreed.
"…No. I don't think so."
Kushida-san's smile stayed, but her eyes softened.
"Right?" she whispered. "It's like… she never lets her guard down."
She released my hand slowly, but she didn't step back.
Instead, she looked up at me and spoke, quieter now.
"You know… I want to become friends with Horikita-san."
Ayanokōji-kun blinked. "Again?"
Kushida-san laughed softly, embarrassed.
"I know it sounds stubborn," she said. "But I really mean it."
I watched her face closely.
That smile.
That careful warmth.
It was perfect.
Too perfect.
And she looked tired under it.
Not exhausted like she'd collapse.
Just… worn. Like her face had been "on" for too long.
You must hate acting like this all day.
You must get so sick of pretending.
I kept my expression calm.
"Kushida-san," I said, "you're already friends with half the class."
She shook her head quickly.
"That's not what I want," she said. "I want to be friends with everyone."
Ayanokōji-kun looked confused. "Everyone?"
Kushida-san nodded.
"Yes," she said firmly. "Not just Class D. Other classes too. If I can't even become friends with one girl in my class… then I'll never reach my goal."
I stared at her.
Then I said plainly, "That's insane."
Kushida-san blinked.
Then she laughed, a little startled.
"…Insane?"
"Yeah," I said. "You're basically collecting humans like they're stamps."
Ayanokōji-kun coughed quietly.
Kushida-san covered her mouth, giggling.
"That's not what I'm doing!" she said, still laughing.
I tilted my head.
"Then what is it?" I asked.
Her laughter faded slightly.
And for the first time, her voice got softer in a way that didn't feel like performance.
"It just makes me happy," she admitted. "When everyone gets along."
I watched her carefully.
Then I nodded once.
"Fine," I said. "So what do you want from us?"
Kushida-san's eyes widened slightly.
"…You'll help me?" she asked.
Ayanokōji-kun hesitated.
"Kushida-san," he said, careful, "Horikita… she's harsh. I don't want you getting hurt."
Kushida-san smiled, gentle.
"I know," she said. "But… can you help me anyway?"
She didn't grab Ayanokōji-kun's hand like she did mine, but she leaned in closer, eyes upturned.
The pleading look.
The "I'm asking sincerely" look.
Even I could admit it was dangerous.
Ayanokōji-kun looked like he was trying to resist a trap.
I found it amusing.
I leaned in and murmured, just loud enough for Ayanokōji-kun to hear—
"Careful," I said. "That face is a weapon."
Kushida-san blinked.
Then she lightly smacked my arm.
"Senju-kun," she whispered, flustered, "don't say it like that."
I smiled like a villain.
Ayanokōji-kun sighed.
"…Just this once," he said.
Kushida-san's face lit up instantly.
"Really? Thank you!" she said, voice bright again.
She looked at me.
"And you, Senju-kun?"
I shrugged.
"I already said yes," I replied. "You just didn't notice."
Kushida-san smiled warmly, like she was genuinely happy.
Ayanokōji-kun stared at me for a second.
"…You agreed very fast."
I smirked.
"I'm not scared of her," I said.
Ayanokōji-kun didn't argue.
Because it was obvious I wasn't scared of anything.
We stood there a while, talking through it.
Kushida-san said the first thing she wanted was simple.
"First," she said, "I want to make Horikita-san smile."
Ayanokōji-kun blinked. "Smile?"
Kushida-san nodded.
"Even just once," she said. "If she smiles, even a little… it means she let her guard down."
I leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.
"Okay," I said. "How?"
Kushida-san hesitated.
Then she giggled sheepishly and tapped her own head lightly.
"…That's what I wanted help with."
Ayanokōji-kun sighed softly.
I laughed under my breath.
"You're bold," I said. "Asking two guys for friendship advice when one of them is a ghost and the other is… me."
Kushida-san blinked again.
"…A ghost?"
Ayanokōji-kun looked away.
"I'm not a ghost," he muttered.
"You kinda are," I replied. "You fade into the background like it's your job."
Kushida-san looked between us, trying not to laugh too hard.
Ayanokōji-kun exhaled slowly.
"…So what do we do?" he asked.
Kushida-san thought for a moment.
"Well," she said, "I was going to invite her again after class… but she'll refuse."
Ayanokōji-kun nodded. "Probably."
I smiled.
"She'll definitely refuse," I said. "And she'll do it with that face like she's bored."
Kushida-san's smile softened.
"…Yes," she admitted.
She looked up suddenly, like she remembered something.
"Oh! What about Palate?" she asked. "It's that café on campus. I go there a lot with other girls, and Horikita-san might've overheard us talking about it."
"Palate?" Ayanokōji-kun repeated.
Kushida-san nodded.
"It's popular," she said. "It gets crowded after class."
I already knew it. The school had everything.
A café packed with girls was not surprising.
Ayanokōji-kun scratched his cheek.
"…If we invite her to Palate and she refuses, then what?" he asked.
Kushida-san's shoulders drooped slightly.
"That's the problem…"
I tapped my wristband lightly without thinking.
The hidden weight under it reminded me of the Omnitrix, like a silent laugh.
I could turn into an alien and make her smile with pure shock.
But that would also end my school life in about five minutes.
So, no.
Not yet.
Ayanokōji-kun spoke, thoughtful.
"What if we make it look like a coincidence?" he asked. "Like you bump into us there."
Kushida-san's eyes widened.
"Oh! That could—"
I cut in immediately.
"No," I said. "That's too easy to see through."
Ayanokōji-kun blinked. "Is it?"
"Yes," I replied. "Horikita-san is sharp. She'll smell it."
Kushida-san looked worried.
"Then what do we do…?"
Ayanokōji-kun hesitated.
Then he said, "What if we… make it hard for her to leave?"
Kushida-san blinked again.
"…Hard to leave?"
Ayanokōji-kun looked uncomfortable.
"Not physically," he said quickly. "Just… socially."
I nodded slightly.
"That," I said, "is actually not bad."
Kushida-san leaned in.
"How?" she asked.
Ayanokōji-kun explained slowly.
"If Palate is crowded," he said, "then leaving quickly might look strange. If your friends reserve seats for a group… and we take those seats… then you show up… she'll be forced to at least sit through a conversation without just walking away immediately."
Kushida-san's face brightened like sunrise.
"Ooh!" she said. "That sounds like it could work!"
Then her eyes landed on Ayanokōji-kun, sparkling.
"You're so smart, Ayanokōji-kun!"
Ayanokōji-kun looked awkward.
"I don't think it's smart," he muttered. "It's just… an idea."
I smirked.
"It's manipulation," I said casually. "But the soft kind."
Kushida-san blinked at me.
"Senju-kun…"
"What?" I said. "That's what it is."
Kushida-san looked like she wanted to argue.
Then she sighed softly.
"…Maybe," she admitted.
I leaned closer, voice calm.
"If you want to be friends with everyone," I said, "you're going to have to accept that sometimes… you push."
Kushida-san's smile returned, faint but real.
"…You're right," she said.
Ayanokōji-kun glanced at me.
He didn't comment.
But I could tell he understood exactly what I meant.
Kushida-san clasped her hands together.
"Okay," she said. "Then… who invites her?"
Ayanokōji-kun hesitated.
Then Kushida-san looked at him, gentle.
"I think Horikita-san trusts you more than anyone else," she said.
Ayanokōji-kun blinked.
"Why?" he asked.
Kushida-san tilted her head.
"I don't know," she admitted. "It just looks that way. She's… more tolerant of you."
I smirked.
"That's a cute way to say she hasn't stabbed him yet."
Ayanokōji-kun sighed. "…Thanks."
Kushida-san giggled.
"Please," she said softly, "invite her. If you do it, she might agree."
Ayanokōji-kun looked like he wanted to refuse.
Then he looked at Kushida-san's face and gave up.
"…Fine," he said. "I'll try."
Kushida-san smiled brightly.
"Thank you!"
Then she glanced at me again.
"And you, Senju-kun?"
I shrugged.
"I'll be there," I said. "I want to watch."
Kushida-san blinked.
"…Watch?"
I grinned.
"Yeah," I said. "Horikita-san roasting people is entertaining."
Kushida-san sighed, but she was smiling again.
"Don't make it worse," she warned.
I held my hands up.
"No promises," I said.
The next day came faster than it should've.
Classes ended, the bell ringing through the room.
Students stood, packed bags, moved like a tide.
Kushida-san and I exchanged a quick glance.
Ayanokōji-kun noticed and nodded slightly.
Horikita-san was already preparing to leave, same as always.
Ayanokōji-kun stood up and stepped toward her.
"Horikita," he said. "Do you have some free time after class?"
Horikita-san didn't even look up.
"I don't have time to waste," she replied. "I have to return to the dormitory and prepare for tomorrow."
Prepare, meaning study.
She lived like her life was measured in pages.
Ayanokōji-kun looked calm.
"I want you to go somewhere with me for a bit," he said.
Horikita-san finally looked at him.
Her eyes narrowed.
"What are you after?" she asked.
Ayanokōji-kun blinked slowly.
"You think I'm after something just because I invited you?"
Horikita-san's gaze stayed sharp.
"When you invite me suddenly," she said, "it's natural to have doubts."
Ayanokōji-kun scratched his cheek lightly.
He looked almost embarrassed.
"Well," he said, "there's that café on campus. The one that's full of girls."
Horikita-san stared at him like she didn't understand how this mattered.
Ayanokōji-kun continued.
"I want to go," he said, "but going alone feels… weird. Like guys aren't allowed unless they're with someone."
Horikita-san paused.
Her eyes flicked away for a moment, like she was actually thinking about it.
"…Most of the customers are women," she admitted. "But men are allowed."
"Yeah," Ayanokōji-kun said. "But no guy goes alone. Only with friends, or with a girlfriend."
Horikita-san looked at him again.
"It's unusual for you," she said, "to express a well-reasoned opinion."
Ayanokōji-kun's mouth twitched.
"Don't get used to it," he replied.
I leaned back in my seat and watched.
He's playing the 'helpless normal guy' card.
Respect. It suits him.
Horikita-san sighed.
"I understand your point," she said. "I can't stay long."
Ayanokōji-kun nodded.
"That's fine."
Horikita-san stood.
Then they left together.
And I swear half the class looked up just because of that.
Two people leaving together was enough to feed rumors for a week.
Kushida-san watched them go, trying to look casual.
But the tension in her shoulders was obvious.
I stood and walked up beside her.
"You okay?" I asked quietly.
Kushida-san smiled.
"Yes," she said. "I'm just… nervous."
I leaned closer.
"If she bites," I murmured, "I'll bite back."
Kushida-san blinked.
"…Senju-kun."
I smirked.
"Relax," I said. "Go to Palate. I'll show up when I feel like it."
Kushida-san sighed, but her smile softened.
"…Okay," she said. "Please don't scare her away."
"No promises," I repeated.
She lightly smacked my arm again.
Then she hurried out.
Palate was exactly what I expected.
Warm lights, sweet smells, soft voices.
And girls.
So many girls.
It felt like stepping into a room where the air itself was scented on purpose.
I didn't enter immediately.
I hung back in the corridor, leaning against a wall near the entrance.
Not hiding.
Just… waiting.
My wristband sat snug over the Omnitrix.
A few students glanced at me as they passed.
Some girls slowed down slightly when they saw me.
Some boys stared like they wanted to hate me but couldn't find a reason.
I didn't care.
I was used to being looked at.
It was a normal part of my life now.
Being pretty is a privilege.
Being pretty and strong is basically cheating.
Through the glass, I could see Ayanokōji-kun and Horikita-san inside.
They ordered drinks.
Ayanokōji-kun even got pancakes.
Horikita-san looked mildly irritated just standing there.
Then—like the plan—they found seats.
A table that had been occupied by a couple girls suddenly cleared.
Ayanokōji-kun moved quickly, securing it.
Horikita-san sat down, posture straight, eyes scanning the café like she was analyzing enemy territory.
Ayanokōji-kun sat too.
I saw him say something, and Horikita-san didn't react much.
Probably his little "people will think we're a couple" joke.
Then—
The moment arrived.
Kushida-san walked in.
She didn't look around dramatically. She didn't act suspicious.
She moved naturally, like she was truly just there for her own reasons.
Then she "noticed" them.
Her smile lit up.
"Ah, Horikita-san!" she said, voice bright. "What a coincidence! And Ayanokōji-kun too!"
I could almost admire the acting.
Almost.
Horikita-san's eyes narrowed immediately.
Ayanokōji-kun greeted her calmly.
Kushida-san sat down fast, before Horikita-san could stand.
And Horikita-san—of course—stood anyway.
"I'm leaving," she said.
Ayanokōji-kun looked up, acting confused.
"H-hey, we just got here."
Horikita-san's gaze didn't soften.
"You don't need me now that Kushida-san is here," she said. "Right?"
Ayanokōji-kun tried to keep it casual.
"That's not—Kushida-san and I are just classmates."
Horikita-san's eyes slid to him.
"And you and I are just classmates too," she said.
Then her gaze cut through Kushida-san like ice.
"I don't like this," Horikita-san said. "What are you plotting?"
Kushida-san froze for a fraction of a second.
Then she forced a cheerful tone.
"N-no, it was just a coincidence!"
I clicked my tongue quietly from outside.
Bad answer.
Horikita-san was too sharp for that.
And of course, Horikita-san tore it apart.
I couldn't hear every word through the glass, but I didn't need to.
Her mouth moved in calm, clean sentences—pointing out details, timing, faces, how quickly people "left," how unlikely it was.
Kushida-san's smile began to wobble.
She glanced toward Ayanokōji-kun like she needed help.
Ayanokōji-kun sighed.
Then he gave up the act.
"Sorry," he said. "We planned it."
Horikita-san's face didn't change.
"I thought as much," she replied.
Kushida-san finally dropped the "coincidence" mask and went straight for the heart.
"Horikita-san," she said, voice earnest, "please be my friend!"
Horikita-san's response was immediate and cold.
"I've said this many times," she replied. "Leave me alone. I have no intention of becoming friends with anyone in class."
Kushida-san leaned forward, desperate but still gentle.
"Always being alone is sad," she insisted. "I just want to get along with everyone."
Horikita-san's eyes narrowed slightly.
"It's wrong to force people into something against their will," she said. "Being alone doesn't make me sad."
Kushida-san's lips parted.
"But—"
Horikita-san cut through it.
"Do you think I would be happy if you forced me?" she asked. "Do you think trust comes from something forced?"
Kushida-san looked like she'd been slapped without being touched.
Horikita-san stood, lifting her untouched drink.
"It's my fault for not being clear enough," she said. "So I won't blame you this time. But if you try this again… I won't forgive you."
Kushida-san's eyes widened.
Then she said something softer, almost like a confession.
"When I saw you," she said, "it felt like it wasn't the first time we met…"
Horikita-san's face tightened.
Her voice rose slightly—still controlled, but sharper.
"This is a waste of time," she said. "Everything you're saying is unpleasant."
Kushida-san flinched.
And that was when Ayanokōji-kun spoke again.
He said something that made Horikita-san pause.
I watched her eyes shift.
He wasn't yelling.
He wasn't dramatic.
He was just… honest.
He talked about friends.
About how he'd wondered if friends were necessary.
About how he'd been alone too.
Horikita-san responded with that calm logic again—how they weren't the same, because her loneliness was chosen.
Ayanokōji-kun pushed back gently.
Not attacking.
Just asking her to consider what three years of isolation would really feel like.
Horikita-san didn't flinch.
She said something that made Kushida-san blink in shock.
Something like… she'd been alone for years already.
Then Horikita-san turned her gaze fully onto Kushida-san.
Her expression wasn't kind.
But it also wasn't cruel.
It was… firm.
She said something like a boundary.
If you don't force me, I won't be rude.
Then she turned and walked out of Palate.
Straight toward the entrance.
Straight toward me.
Horikita-san stopped for half a second when she saw me standing there.
Like she hadn't expected me to be part of it.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Senju-kun," she said flatly.
I smiled, lazy.
"Horikita-san," I replied. "You're entertaining."
Her gaze sharpened.
"So you were involved," she said.
I shrugged.
"I watched," I said. "That's not illegal."
Horikita-san stared at me.
"…You're insufferable."
I grinned wider.
"Yeah," I said. "And you're a walking icicle."
Horikita-san didn't react like Kushida-san did.
No fluster. No laughter.
Just cold eyes.
"If you plan to waste my time again," she said, "I will not tolerate it."
I tilted my head.
"You're acting like you can punish me," I said calmly.
Horikita-san's eyes narrowed harder.
Then she stepped closer, voice low.
"I don't need to punish you," she said. "This school does it for me."
I held her gaze.
For a moment, the air between us felt sharp.
Then I smiled again—slow, amused.
"Good," I said. "I like a place that tries."
Horikita-san's eyes flickered. Just slightly.
Like she didn't like that answer.
Then she turned and walked away, alone again.
Not looking back even once.
I watched her go.
She's not weak.
She's not scared.
She's just… built differently.
I went inside.
Palate was still loud, still sweet, still crowded.
But at that table—
Kushida-san sat with her shoulders slightly slumped, even though she was trying to hold her smile.
Ayanokōji-kun sat beside her, quiet.
I walked over and pulled out the empty chair.
Then I sat down like I belonged there.
Kushida-san blinked when she saw me.
"Senju-kun…" she whispered.
I leaned back.
"I told you I'd show up when I felt like it," I said.
Ayanokōji-kun looked at me.
"…You were outside."
"Yeah," I said. "I watched the whole thing."
Kushida-san's cheeks flushed slightly.
"W-why?" she asked.
I smirked.
"Because Horikita-san's tongue is lethal," I said. "And watching people survive her is fun."
Kushida-san sighed, but her smile returned faintly.
"…That's terrible," she muttered.
"It's honest," I corrected.
Ayanokōji-kun exhaled.
"Well," he said quietly, "that didn't go well."
Kushida-san collapsed forward slightly, resting her forehead against her hands for a second.
Then—fast—she sat up again and forced her smile back on.
"It's okay," she said. "Thank you, Ayanokōji-kun. And Senju-kun too."
I stared at her.
"That wasn't okay," I said bluntly.
Kushida-san blinked.
I leaned closer.
"She called you unpleasant," I said calmly. "If that doesn't sting, you're a robot."
Kushida-san's smile tightened.
Then she sighed softly, and for a moment her face looked… tired.
"…It stings," she admitted quietly.
Ayanokōji-kun's eyes softened slightly.
Kushida-san quickly lifted her smile again like she was afraid to let it drop too long.
"But," she said, voice gentle, "I learned something important. So it's okay."
I watched her.
You're lying.
But you're also not.
You could be hurt and still take something from it.
That was real.
Ayanokōji-kun spoke quietly.
"Kushida-san," he said, "Horikita might hate me now because I helped."
Kushida-san shook her head quickly.
"No," she said. "She… she doesn't hate you. I think she just… dislikes this kind of thing."
I cut in.
"She dislikes people touching her space," I said. "That's all."
Ayanokōji-kun glanced at me.
"…You say it like you know her."
I smiled.
"I know the type," I replied. "And she's obvious."
Kushida-san looked down at her drink.
Then she looked up again, eyes soft.
"Senju-kun," she said quietly, "you weren't… scared of her at all."
I leaned back.
"Why would I be?" I asked.
Kushida-san hesitated, then laughed softly.
"…Right," she said. "That's a silly question."
Ayanokōji-kun stared at his pancakes like he didn't know if he should eat them now.
I glanced at them.
"Are you gonna eat those?" I asked him.
Ayanokōji-kun blinked.
"…Yes."
"Good," I said. "Eating while sad builds character."
Kushida-san giggled despite herself.
Then she looked at Ayanokōji-kun again.
"…I was shocked," she admitted. "When you said you didn't have any friends."
Ayanokōji-kun paused.
His face stayed calm, but something in his eyes shifted.
"…It's true," he said. "Sudō and Ike were the first friends I ever made."
Kushida-san looked genuinely stunned.
"Really?" she asked softly.
Ayanokōji-kun nodded.
"I don't know if it's my fault," he said, "or the circumstances I was in."
Kushida-san leaned in, voice gentle.
"But… when you made friends," she asked, "did it make you happy? Was it fun?"
Ayanokōji-kun hesitated.
Then he nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "Sometimes it's annoying. But… sometimes I feel happier than before."
Kushida-san's eyes sparkled.
Not fake sparkle.
Real.
Like she genuinely loved hearing that.
"That's good," she said softly.
I watched her smile.
You really believe in this. Even if you're broken under it.
Ayanokōji-kun spoke again.
"Horikita has her own way of thinking," he said. "There's probably nothing we can do."
Kushida-san frowned.
"Do you really think so?" she asked. "Is it not possible to be friends with her?"
I leaned forward.
"Kushida-san," I said, voice calm, "why are you so desperate?"
Kushida-san blinked.
I continued.
"You already have more friends than anyone," I said. "You don't need Horikita-san."
Kushida-san's smile faltered slightly.
Then she spoke, quieter.
"I want to be friends with everyone," she said. "If I can't become friends with one person in my class… then that means I failed."
I stared at her.
Then I sighed.
Ayanokōji-kun spoke gently.
"Just think of Horikita as a special case," he said. "Wait for a real coincidence. Not something forced."
Kushida-san looked down.
For a second, she looked like she wanted to argue.
Then she nodded slowly.
"…Okay," she whispered.
She lifted her eyes again, smile returning.
"Then," she said, trying to sound bright, "I'll just keep trying… but not like this."
I tilted my head.
"You're still going to invite her," I said.
Kushida-san smiled softly.
"…Yes," she admitted.
Ayanokōji-kun sighed faintly.
I laughed under my breath.
"You're terrifying," I told her.
Kushida-san blinked.
"…Me?"
"Yeah," I said. "That kind of stubborn kindness is scary. It doesn't stop."
Kushida-san's cheeks warmed slightly.
Then she smiled more gently.
"…Thank you," she said.
I raised an eyebrow.
"For calling you terrifying?"
"For… noticing," she replied quietly.
I held her gaze for a moment.
Then I looked away.
"Eat your pancakes," I told Ayanokōji-kun. "Before they get cold."
Ayanokōji-kun nodded awkwardly and finally started eating.
Kushida-san sipped her drink, shoulders relaxing a little.
And for the first time today, her smile looked less like a mask.
More like… a person.
I leaned back in my chair and let the café noise wash over me.
Girls laughing. Spoons clinking. Chairs shifting.
Normal life.
For now.
I touched the wristband lightly again, hidden under my sleeve.
The Omnitrix stayed quiet.
Like it was listening.
Like it was waiting.
And in my head, a thought curled up like a lazy cat.
Friends, huh…
This school's going to be fun.