Love.

I never thought much about it before.

It felt like one of those far-off, abstract concepts—something meant for other people, not for someone like me. It was nice in theory, sure, but not something I ever expected to experience.

And yet, here I was.

Not only had I stopped feeling that strange, lingering cold that always seemed to cling to me, but everything just felt… different.

Brighter.

Lighter.

Like the whole world had shifted into something warmer, something softer—something better.

Who would've thought?

I let out a tiny breath, hugging my arms to my chest as I stood in front of my mirror.

This was it.

Today was special.

It felt special.

I glanced down at the clothes in my hands—the outfit Karuizawa and I had picked out together. My fingers ran over the fabric, carefully smoothing it out before slipping it on, piece by piece.

I paused, staring at my reflection as I adjusted my skirt.

"D-Does this look okay…?"

The words were barely a whisper.

I turned a little, checking different angles, and smoothing down my hair.

Then, before I even realized what I was doing—

I smiled.

Not the small, polite kind I rarely gave others.

Not the forced, awkward kind I used when I didn't know what to say.

A real one. Warm, happy, a little shy.

I raised my hands to my cheeks, feeling the growing heat.

This was so embarrassing.

But…

I couldn't stop smiling.

I let out a small, breathy giggle, twirling just slightly before stopping myself.

No, no, I couldn't get too carried away.

Still—

Maybe those Cuteness Points actually did help.

Not that I needed them!

I mean, obviously, it's what's on the inside that counts, right? That's what really matters in the end!

…But also.

I did kind of hope he'd notice.

Just a little.

I never thought I could feel this happy.

And somehow, that just made me even more happy.

Sometimes, I wonder how I ended up like this.

How did everything end up like this?

Ah… it all started in class, didn't it?

After everything that had happened—after all the twists and turns, there was one undeniable fact: He was the first person I met in this school.

Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.

The catalyst.

It couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

If I had to place blame on someone for my current situation, then the only logical conclusion was that the one who brought us here was also the one responsible for what followed.

And yet…

That thought didn't unsettle me as much as it should have.

The counterpart from the game had always seemed to be around Ayanokouji. Their paths were intertwined, connected in a way that defied logic but felt like something inevitable.

So… maybe this was fate.

Or maybe I was just trying to justify my own feelings.

I hesitated, my fingers lightly brushing against my sleeve as I thought of Nii-san.

What would he say if he saw me like this?

As the person who had always been ahead of me in every way—untouchable, unwavering, the ideal student. The ideal person.

Would he scold me?

Would he be disappointed?

I had done so many illogical things. Stupid, reckless things.

Breaking into Karuizawa's room. Stealing my own clothes. Acting in ways that defied every principle I once held.

I didn't even recognize myself anymore.

And yet, despite the guilt, despite the clear irrationality of my choices.

I didn't regret them.

That was the most terrifying part.

Somewhere along the way, the lines between who I was and who I am had blurred so much that I could no longer separate them.

Because at this moment our hearts beat the same.

And there was no going back.

I stepped out of my dorm.

As I walked down the hallway, my steps light with anticipation, I reached the elevator and pressed the button.

A soft chime rang out as the doors slid open.

And there, inside, stood Kushida.

The moment our eyes met, she blinked.

Her lips parted slightly as if words had escaped her mind for a second.

Then, with an almost imperceptible hesitation, her usual bright, friendly smile returned. "Oh! Horikita-san!"

I greeted her normally, without hesitation. "Good morning, Kushida-san."

"My, my, Horikita-san," she said, tilting her head slightly. "You look… really beautiful today. It's almost hard to believe!"

Her eyes scanned me, taking in my carefully chosen outfit, the way my hair was brushed neatly, the faint color on my cheeks I couldn't quite get rid of.

I wasn't dense.

That sounded like a compliment.

"Thank you," I replied simply.

Kushida blinked as if she had expected me to react differently.

Then she let out a playful laugh. "It's just surprising! You haven't been in class much lately, so I thought maybe you were… occupied with something."

She leaned in just slightly, eyes glinting with a hint of curiosity.

"Have you been focusing on your beauty routine?" she asked, her voice honeyed.

Her words were laced with something subtle, something just barely off.

Like she was digging for something.

Trying to imply something.

I was in too good of a mood to care.

"There's nothing to worry about," I said, glancing at my reflection in the elevator doors. "I'll be back to my usual schedule soon enough."

It was an honest answer.

But maybe that's why it irritated her.

For a moment, I thought I caught the tiniest twitch in her smile.

She giggled. "That's a relief! I mean, you wouldn't want to fall behind, right?"

I turned to her, "Of course."

The elevator dinged.

The doors slid open.

Without another word, I stepped out.

Kushida remained inside, watching me go.

I didn't need to look back to know she was still smiling.

But it didn't matter.

I wasn't thinking about her.

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a warm glow over the park as I walked through the slightly windy path, my heartbeat picking up with every step.

I knew he was already there.

I had seen him the moment I entered.

Sitting casually on a wooden bench, his posture relaxed, was Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.

He wore a simple white t-shirt and dark jeans, nothing extravagant, yet somehow, the simplicity only made him stand out more.

His eyes found me.

I inhaled sharply. My hands tightened into small fists at my sides as I tried to steady myself.

Stay calm. Just act normal.

"A-Ayanokouji-kun… G-Good morning."

With light stuttering, I managed to greet him.

He nodded slightly, shifting his gaze back to the open space before him. "Morning, Horikita."

My heart squeezed at the sound of his voice, but I quickly moved to sit beside him on the bench.

It was strange.

Being this close to him, feeling the warmth of the sunlight against my skin, the quiet rustling of leaves around us.

I was trembling.

I hadn't even realized it until he spoke.

"Are you nervous?" His tone was even, but his eyes flickered downward—toward my hands.

I followed his gaze and—

Oh.

My fingers were trembling slightly in my lap, twitching against the fabric of my skirt as if betraying my thoughts.

I immediately curled them into my palms, pressing them down to stop the shaking. "I… I-It's just…"

What was I supposed to say?

That today was the day?

That my heart felt like it was going to burst?

That I had spent so long overthinking, preparing, imagining how this would go only to realize I had no idea what to actually do now that I was here?

My lips pressed together as I tried to form a coherent excuse.

But nothing came out.

I just sat there, gripping the fabric of my skirt tightly, staring down at my hands as if they held the answer.

Ayanokouji didn't press further.

He simply sat there, gazing ahead.

Or maybe just letting me sit in my own silence.

Oddly enough…

That alone eased something in my chest.

It didn't feel so heavy.

I exhaled softly, unclenching my hands little by little.

Ayanokouji had told me yesterday there was no reason to be nervous around him.

That should have been enough, right?

I shifted my gaze toward him hesitantly. He was still looking ahead, completely at ease, as if my inner turmoil didn't exist.

Maybe to him, it didn't.

Maybe I was the only one making this into something bigger than it was.

I need to say something… anything.

"…Do you remember?" My voice came out softer than I intended. "The first time we sat here?"

His gaze flickered toward me briefly. "When we bought ice cream?"

I nodded, gripping the edge of the bench lightly. "Yeah… back then, I remember thinking how strange it was. Sitting here with you. Talking like that."

A pause.

"You don't find it strange anymore?"

"No... it was actually nice..."

I shifted slightly, the space between us shrinking as I turned to face him more directly.

My hands rested on my lap as I tried to steady my voice.

"You know…"

Ayanokouji didn't react much, but I could tell he was listening. He always listened, even when he appeared indifferent.

The words felt heavier the closer they got to leaving my lips.

"…Before I told you about the game," I began, my voice quiet, "I… I wasn't really being honest with you."

A pause.

Not because I expected him to say something.

But because I needed to find the right words.

"I thought… I thought that if I wanted to get closer to you, I had to increase your points." I exhaled, my hands tightening. "I thought that was the only way. That… maybe that was what the 'original' me would have done. So I... manipulated you sometimes..."

I let out a small, quiet laugh.

It sounded pathetic now.

Like all of those moments, all of the time we spent together, were nothing more than calculated actions on my part.

But it wasn't true at all.

"But it wasn't real, was it?" I forced myself to look at him. "I told myself it was just part of the plan, but—"

I hesitated.

"—but at some point, it stopped being about that." My fingers trembled as I clasped them together. "I just… I wanted to be around you. Even if I didn't have a reason. Even if it wasn't part of the 'game' anymore."

I inhaled, my breath shaking.

"…So, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you the whole truth," I finally said, my voice softer now. "For lying to you."

He remained quiet for a moment.

"There's nothing to apologize for."

He turned his gaze to me.

"You were trying to navigate something you didn't fully understand. It's not unusual." he continued, "People do it all the time—following a set path because they believe it's what they're supposed to do. But the important part isn't where you started."

He paused, tilting his head slightly.

"It's where you ended up."

I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He wasn't even disappointed.

If anything, it was like he had expected this.

"…You're saying it doesn't matter?" I whispered.

"I'm saying it only matters if you think it does." He studied me for a moment, then added, "And judging by how much you're overthinking this… I'd say you already have your answer."

Something in my chest twisted.

Not in a painful way.

Not in a bad way.

But in a way that made me certain—

I had been holding my breath for far too long.

"…You always do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't p-pretend! You say things that make me feel ridiculous for worrying so much."

"You make it easy."

"That's not fair!"

But even as I said it, I could feel the tension in my shoulders melting.

I sighed softly, feeling the last remnants of my nervousness fade into something warmer—something quieter.

I turned to him fully now, my fingers gripping the edge of the bench as if steadying myself.

"…It's your fault."

He raised a brow, expression unreadable. "My fault?"

"Yes." My voice was firmer this time, even as the warmth in my chest spread. "It's your fault for always being like this."

His gaze remained steady, waiting.

"For always knowing exactly what to say when I feel lost. For making everything seem so simple when I can't even make sense of my own emotions."

I clenched my hands, my heart pounding.

"For always watching. Always noticing. Even when I didn't say anything, even when I didn't ask—" My voice faltered, my breath catching. "You were always there."

He remained silent, letting me continue.

"In my worst moments… when I felt like I was slipping… you always knew." My fingers curled tighter into the fabric of my skirt. "You knew before even I did. And somehow, you—"

I felt my cheeks warming and lowered my gaze for a brief moment before forcing myself to meet his eyes again.

"You made me feel like I wasn't alone."

My words hung in the air between us, lingering.

"…You give me too much credit."

I let out a quiet laugh. "And you always do that too."

"Do what?"

"You always find some excuse," I murmured, "Some way to dismiss the things you do… the way you are."

"I used to think of you as just a support character," I admitted, my lips curling into something faintly self-deprecating. "Someone who was supposed to stay on the sidelines. A background piece in my story."

A soft breath left me.

"But the truth is… you're just a normal boy. A normal boy who's too kind for his own good and doesn't even know how to smile properly."

I let out a small laugh—more at myself than anything else.

"…I shouldn't have asked." I shook my head, my voice quieter now. "I shouldn't have pried. If I could go back… I think I'd just talk to you sooner."

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then, without any change in tone, without any warning—

He asked:

"Would you rather remember the game or forget it entirely?"

I froze.

A strange question.

Not at all what I had expected.

I turned to him, searching his expression for some kind of meaning. But as always—his gaze was unreadable.

"…Forget?" I echoed, unsure if I had even heard him correctly.

He nodded. "If you could erase all knowledge of it—if none of it had ever existed to you—would you take that option?"

My fingers twitched.

Why was he asking this?

Did he think I regretted knowing the truth?

Did I regret it?

I parted my lips, but for some reason, I hesitated.

The idea of forgetting…

Never knowing this world was supposed to be a game. Never having to worry about whether things were happening because of a script or because they were real.

A simple life.

A life without overthinking.

And yet—

If I had never known…

I never would have met him like this.

"…No." My voice was soft, but firm. "I wouldn't want to forget."

His eyes flickered.

Just barely.

But I caught it.

"Even if it would've been easier?"

I exhaled, glancing down at my hands before looking at him again. "I don't care."

I held his gaze now, unwavering.

"I m-mean, I don't care if it's difficult! If it's painful. If knowing means second-guessing everything." I paused, feeling the weight of my own words.

"Because even if I hadn't known… I still w-would've met y-you."

Another pause.

Another flicker in his gaze.

"…I see," he murmured.

I wasn't sure why, but something about his tone made my heart ache.

Like he had been expecting a different answer.

Like he had been expecting me to leave.

Then, in that same calm, measured tone, he asked—

"You're not entirely yourself anymore, are you?"

My breath hitched.

I clenched my hands into fists, "D-Does it… does it matter?" My voice wavered, my throat tightening. "D-Do you… not like who I am now?"

For a moment, silence stretched between us.

He blinked.

"If you're at ease with yourself, then there's no issue." he tilted his head, "I guess... identity isn't a fixed state. It shifts, adapts, grows. Who you were, who you are now—neither is inherently more real than the other. If anything, what matters isn't which version of yourself exists, but whether you're content being that person."

The way he said it made my own doubts feel… unnecessary.

Before I could say anything else.

"You've truly become beautiful, Horikita."

My mind blanked.

Heat surged to my face in an instant, forcing my smile to grow bigger.

For a moment, all I could do was stare.

The warmth in my chest spread like wildfire, creeping up my neck and settling deep into my stomach.

I wasn't even sure what I was feeling—

Flustered? Embarrassed? Lightheaded?

Maybe all of it at once.

But before I could process anything.

Before I could even think to react.

I felt myself move.

No—

He moved me.

"…Eh—?!"

The small gasp left my lips before I could stop it.

His arm had slipped behind my back with quiet ease, his other hand adjusting ever so slightly.

And in one seamless motion, as if I weighed nothing at all.

He lifted me.

I barely even had time to register the shift, the sudden loss of balance, before I found myself settled.

On his lap.

A quiet rush of air left my lungs.

My entire body tensed—then locked into place.

I—

I was sitting on him.

I was sitting on him.

I could feel him. The faint, steady rhythm of his breath, the warmth of his presence, the way his arm still rested against my back, keeping me there as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

My mind struggled to keep up.

It was too much.

Too close.

Too warm.

I could feel my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

"…W-What…?"

My voice barely reached above a whisper.

This—this was insane.

We were in a park.

Outside. In public.

If someone saw us like this if they misunderstood—!

The thought alone should have sent me scrambling to move, to put some distance between us.

And yet, I didn't.

I couldn't.

Every ounce of logic, every rational thought telling me to pull away, to snap out of this ridiculous state, shattered completely the moment I felt it.

The moment my body—without thinking—leaned into him.

A soft, barely-there movement.

But undeniable.

My fingers clutched at the fabric of his sleeve before I could stop them, gripping onto it like an anchor, like I needed something to steady myself.

I pressed closer.

I wasn't sure if it was the warmth, or the way his presence felt so effortlessly safe, or the way his breath remained completely steady while mine had become completely, utterly unstable—

But my body moved on its own.

As if I belonged there.

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the subtle shift of his hold—his arm still there, still supporting me, still keeping me close.

A soft breath escaped me, barely audible, but I was sure he heard it.

My body was too warm.

A beautiful warmth bloomed across my face, deep and merciless, spreading like wildfire until even the tips of my ears burned.

I still didn't move.

Slowly, hesitantly, I lifted my gaze.

And met his.

His eyes watching me with that same maddening calm.

I stared at him, wide-eyed like I couldn't comprehend what was happening, like my own actions had betrayed me, leaving me in a state of dizzy, breathless helplessness.

My lips parted.

I wanted to say something.

I needed to say something.

But my throat felt tight, my heart a frantic rhythm against my ribs. My fingers curled tighter into his sleeve as if holding on would keep me grounded as if it could keep me from completely falling apart.

"I..." My voice trembled. I swallowed, trying to steady myself.

His golden-brown eyes remained on me.

Always waiting.

And somehow, that only made my chest ache more.

"I—" My breath hitched, and I squeezed my eyes shut for the briefest moment before forcing them open again.

I didn't want to hesitate anymore.

Not with this.

Not with him.

"...I really like y-you." My voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of my words filled the space between us.

I felt his attention sharpen, even as his expression remained the same.

But I wasn't finished.

"I—I mean...!" My hands clenched against his sleeve, my whole body warm, my head spinning, but I pushed forward anyway—because if I didn't say it now, I never would.

"...I l-love you."

His hand suddenly shifted—pulling me closer.

I barely had time to react before I felt it.

The space between us, already dangerously thin, disappeared entirely.

My breath caught.

H-He's—

My heart slammed against my chest, wild and relentless, as my entire world spiraled into chaos. My mind was an absolute disaster, a frantic storm of thoughts clashing all at once—

Is this it!?

Is this the moment!?

W-We're in a park! In public! But he's—he's so close—

My lips parted, my pulse hammering so fast it was almost unbearable. If it had been loud before, now it was roaring, pounding in my ears like the frantic beat of a drum.

I could feel his breath now, warm and steady, far too calm compared to the complete mess I had become.

I—I should do something!

I should—

And then—

His eyes.

I froze.

For the first time since this whole thing started—since my confession, since the world narrowed to just us.

His expression shifted.

His gaze, once unreadable and calm...

...darkened.

Not in anger.

Not in surprise.

But in something deeper.

Something I couldn't name.

ㅤ

"Horikita."

ㅤ

My world froze.

His voice was low. Steady.

But there was something in it.

Something cold.

ㅤ

"The truth is…"

ㅤ

I felt his fingers shift slightly against my back, still holding me close—too close.

ㅤ

ㅤ

ㅤ

"I don't love you."