Lunch period.
The classroom was unusually quiet now that most students had rushed off to the cafeteria.
A faint smell of chalk still lingered in the air, sunlight pouring in through the tall windows, slicing across empty rows of desks.
Mayeda leaned against the edge of his own desk, arms crossed, his expression as unreadable as ever.
Across from him stood Matsui Miki, fidgeting with the strap of her bag like it was her lifeline. Her gray eyes darted everywhere—his shoes, the blackboard, the clock—but never quite stayed on his silver gaze for long.
She had followed him here after speech class. Not by coincidence, either.
She admitted it openly.
"…So? What was it you wanted to talk about earlier?" Mayeda's low, steady voice cut through the silence.
Matsui pressed her lips together, hesitated, and then drew in a shaky breath.
Her heart thumped so loud it nearly drowned out the ticking clock above them.
This was stupid.
This was insane.
She shouldn't be doing this.
But if she didn't, she was going to be stuck getting cornered day after day by a boy she had no idea how to reject.
She finally lifted her gaze, meeting Mayeda's crystal silver eyes head-on.
"…I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend."
The words hit the air like a dropped bomb.
For a moment, the classroom went dead still.
The silver eyed boy didn't flinch. His face remained perfectly calm, but his silence dragged, stretching into something unbearable.
Matsui panicked.
"I-I don't mean it like that! I'm not confessing or anything! It's just—there's this guy, okay? He's been… um… persistent. Too persistent. And I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I also don't know how to get him to back off. So I thought… if I had someone people wouldn't dare question by my side…"
Her words trailed, but the implication was clear.
Mayeda blinked once.
"…And you thought of me?"
"Yes!" she said too quickly, then immediately winced at how desperate it sounded.
"…I mean, yes, because it makes sense. You're… tall. And smart. And scary." She sheepishly murmured.
"…Scary?" The tall boy questions.
She waved her hands frantically.
"Not scary in a bad way! Just you know… expressionless, cold, like you could murder someone with a stare if you wanted to." Matsui stammered out without thinking.
"…That's your compliment?" The black haired boy tilts his head with a hint of sarcasm.
"It's practical!" She quickly stuttered.
A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips, gone before she could be sure she saw it.
"You're ridiculous." Mayeda said with a sigh and puts his hands in his pockets, glancing the room in thought.
However, this does sound like a lot of fun…
Her face flared red.
"I-I know it sounds dumb, but please! If you help me, it'll be quick and nobody gets hurt. And then we can both just… go back to normal."
"…Normal." Mayeda repeated and looks back at her.
He leaned forward slightly, silver eyes locking on her trembling gray ones.
"You want me to lie to the entire class. To my peers. To some poor boy who doesn't know any better. And for what?" He said in a tone that was calm and polite that masked his sarcasm and playfulness.
This reminds me of those classic anime tropes in a way… how can I pass this opportunity up?
"…For me," she whispered.
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
And for just a second, she saw his eyes flicker—not cold, not sharp, but… something else.
Silence hung thick between them.
This is a girl who's clearly scared and needs help… the courage she had to ask me this in person is commendable…
Fine. I suppose in need for a woman's safety, I'll…
Finally, Mayeda exhaled through his nose, leaning back again. "…You're troublesome."
Her shoulders sagged. "So… you won't?"
He studied her for a long moment.
Her nervous shifting, her earnest gaze, the way she twisted her fingers together like she might break them if she didn't let it out somehow.
"…I didn't say no," he murmured at last.
Matsui's head snapped up. "…R-Really?"
He tilted his head with a small growing smile. "…On one condition."
Her pulse spiked. "Wh-What condition?"
His lips curved into the faintest, most infuriating smirk.
"I ask you to not actually fall in love with me during the process if possible."
He leans in with a finger pressed against his lips in a shush motion.
Her entire face exploded red. "Wha—?! Who the hell would fall in love with you?!"
"Nobody really, but I just wanted to make sure I guess." The tall boy said flatly.
Miki stomped her foot, flustered.
"Argh! You're so full of yourself! If anything, you're the one who should be careful not to fall for me!" The girl said without thinking, just wanting to make a rebuttal.
"I can't make any promises on my end." Mayeda decided to calmly joke with her a bit more but he couldn't deny his smile.
"You—!!" She blushed profusely from his teasing.
When was the last time I was able to joke with someone so casually like this other than Usui?
This was fun. Maybe I should befriend her from this.
Just the thought of making more friends made him smile a bit more.
She noticed this. Her gaze taking in a rare sight.
Usually he's so calm and silent… I don't think I've ever seen him smile before the past days…
Her train of thought came to a halt.
Her voice cracked between outrage and embarrassment.
But under it all, a tiny laugh bubbled in her chest.
Against her will, she almost enjoyed this back-and-forth.
His blunt, cutting responses were supposed to shut people down, but instead, they gave her something to push against.
Something strangely fun.
Mayeda, meanwhile, simply watched her burn, arms crossed, silver eyes calm but ever so slightly more amused.
I think she'd make a good friend… but I can't judge from first appearances…
But maybe that's what it is…
He closed his eyes.
I've always known and never followed the judge things at first glance rule… but when it comes to something deeper…
Mayeda sighs and stood up after noticing the short time.
You just need to put yourself out there a bit more and judge things yourself from taking that risk.
They didn't get much further before the lunch bell echoed again in the distance, signaling half the period was already gone.
Miki grabbed her bag, still red in the face.
"…So it's settled, then? You'll help me?" She shyly asks, just needing confirmation.
Mayeda nodded once, back to being calm as ever.
"Yes. For one moment. One situation. Nothing more." He tells her straight.
I have an idea…
Her lips curved into a smile before she could stop it.
"Thank you."
As she walked out of the classroom, her heart fluttered wildly, her fingers tightening on her bag strap.
She had asked him out for a fake relationship.
That was it. That was all.
So why did it feel so much like the real thing?
***
The room hummed with a steady rhythm of knives hitting cutting boards, oil sizzling on pans, and the faint murmur of students whispering instructions back and forth.
Cooking class had always been one of Yoshikawa Manami's sanctuaries. An hour where her hands could move with purpose, where her heart could imagine a future free of doubts.
But today, her thoughts weren't aligning with the pace of her hands.
Her cheeks still tingled from the memory of honey smearing across her face a moment ago.
The laughter had died down, yet she felt the echo of it in her chest.
Not cruel laughter, but the kind that made her wonder… was she truly taken seriously here?
She exhaled softly, brushing her damp silver bangs from her forehead.
No.
Focus, Manami.
Not as "Princess."
Not as some untouchable, delicate figure.
Focus as yourself.
As a chef.
Her gaze hardened slightly, eyes catching the pale gleam of minced garlic sitting beside her.
"Garlic first," Yoshikawa murmured, half to herself.
Her group members, surprised by the sudden clarity in her voice, quickly obliged.
The boy handed her cloves, the other girl passed her the honey jar.
Manami tied her apron tighter, as though locking away the frailty that had plagued her all morning.
Knife in hand, she began chopping garlic with a steady rhythm.
Chop. Chop. Chop.
Each sound grounded her more than the last.
Earlier she had been tossed between memories of the school entrance, the bathroom incident, the shadowy savior whose touch still lingered like phantom warmth on her wrist.
And now… now came the thought of Usui Sato.
Those glasses.
That easy smile.
That awkward way he sometimes adjusted his frames when flustered.
Could it have been him?
The one who had pulled her out of danger?
Her heart stuttered, then betrayed her with a sudden rush of heat in her cheeks.
"Yoshikawa-san," the girl in her group called, snapping her back.
"Um, maybe… not so fast? You're cutting the garlic into powder."
"Oh!" Manami blinked down. Indeed, she'd been hacking away like a machine, the garlic practically melting beneath her knife.
The boy snickered. "Princess' strength is something else."
"I-I wasn't—!" Her words stuck, and she puffed her cheeks out before pressing her lips together firmly.
No more distractions.
This time, she slowed down, her cuts precise, deliberate.
She stirred the pan with grace, letting the garlic release its fragrance before drizzling in honey, her movements soft yet confident.
The aroma filled the air almost immediately, turning heads around the classroom.
Even the teacher, standing by the whiteboard, raised his brows with mild surprise.
Yoshikawa didn't notice. She was lost in her rhythm, her thoughts threading in and out between each stir.
I want to open my own restaurant one day.
I want people to sit at my table and taste more than just food.
I want them to taste who I am.
But if I can't even stand firmly as myself now… how will anyone ever take me seriously then?
She pressed her lips into a thin line.
No.
She would make them taste it. Today.
She tilted the pan, letting the sauce bubble, coating each golden piece of chicken until it glistened under the fluorescent lights. The sound of sizzling honey and garlic was like applause to her ears.
Then came the taste test.
Her groupmates, initially skeptical after her honey-face disaster, stared wide-eyed after a single bite.
"This is… actually amazing," the boy said, voice muffled with food.
The girl nodded eagerly. "Balanced sweetness and garlic—how did you…?"
Yoshikawa only smiled faintly, cheeks faintly pink, but this time not from embarrassment.
"It's just… a matter of listening. To the ingredients, to the timing."
For the first time today, she wasn't the lost princess in a story written by others.
She was Yoshikawa Manami, a chef in the making.
And as her group's plate was presented at the front, drawing nods of approval from classmates and even a rare, impressed hum from the teacher, a small flutter of warmth settled in her chest.
***
Usui Sato lay sprawled on his bed, blanket half draped over him like a defeated warrior.
His messy brown hair stuck in every direction, sweat dampening his forehead.
"Ughhh… I think I'm still dying like hell," Usui groaned, voice muffled into his pillow.
His glasses sat abandoned on the nightstand, leaving the world a blur of shapes and muted colors. He hated being sick, not because of the pain, but because it left him useless.
He sniffled, rolling onto his back, staring at the ceiling fan lazily spinning. "Mayeda would probably tell me it's just a cold and I'm overreacting again… but I have really bad magic resistance."
The thought of his best friend brought a weak grin to his lips. Mayeda Shin—stoic, unreadable, always carrying himself like the world's weight sat neatly on his shoulders.
Usui had admired that about him for years.
Where Usui flailed, Mayeda stood firm.
Where Usui doubted, Mayeda calculated.
Yet even Mayeda had his cracks. Usui had seen them—little glimpses of the self-loathing hidden behind those silver eyes.
"Was he really just kidding about going for Yoshikawa too?"
Usui whispered to the ceiling. His voice cracked, partly from his throat, partly from the fever.
He chuckled weakly before coughing into his sleeve.
Then, another image crept in.
Silver hair. Gentle eyes. A soft, flustered smile that had burned itself into his memory far too many times that he saw him never give much to anybody else.
"Yoshikawa-san…"
The name left his lips like a sigh.
He wanted to be near her, to cheer her on, to be the person who could make her smile when she doubted herself.
He didn't know her that much but he desired to know her more.
What does it really mean to want the unknown? Is it because of what I think or what I see…?
Sigh.
And yet… here he was, bedridden, the chance slipping away while she lived her day without him.
His fingers reached toward the ceiling as though he could grasp something invisible.
Man, I'm hungry again.
His eyes opened once more.
"If Shin's around her… if he's the one she needs more…" His voice trailed off.
For once, his usual optimism faltered.
The idea of losing to Mayeda, his best friend, his brother in all but blood.
It twisted his stomach more than the fever did.
What would I do if my best friend and crush got together…?
I mean… I only knew her from just less than a week… so maybe it wouldn't hurt that much… right?
But then he clenched his hand into a fist.
"No. I'll… I'll get better. And then…" His lips curved into a faint smile despite the sweat dripping down his temple. "I'll get to know her. Somehow."
His eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion finally pulling him under.
The sound of rain tapping against his window became the lullaby that carried him to sleep.
Only Mayeda knew of his absence.
And perhaps, that was how Usui preferred it until he found his strength again.
***
Back in cooking class, Yoshikawa carefully placed her finished plate down, her reflection shimmering faintly on the glazed surface of chicken.
A small, unconscious smile played at her lips.
For now, this was enough.
But somewhere deep inside, a quiet thought echoed.
Mayeda Shin… why do I feel like you've been watching me more closely than anyone else?
She shook the thought away quickly, cheeks warming.
No.
No distractions.
Focus.
Still, as she untied her apron, she couldn't shake the lingering sweetness that had nothing to do with honey.
Honestly… what's wrong with me?