By the time I got back to my room, the sky outside my window had already turned dark.
I dropped my bag on the floor and sat on my bed, exhaling slowly. My body felt tired, but my mind was doing the exact opposite. It kept replaying the day on loop, like it wasn't done with me yet.
Just as I was about to reach for the manga, my door creaked open.
"Yo."
I didn't even have to look up.
My brother leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a stupid grin already plastered on his face. "So," he said, dragging the word out, "how was your date?"
"It wasn't a date," I replied instantly.
"Uh-huh." He stepped inside. "Then why do you look like you just came back from one?"
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He caught it easily.
"You went out with a girl. Spent the whole day. Came back smiling like an idiot," he continued. "If that's not a date, I've been misunderstanding the concept my whole life."
"It was just hanging out," I said. "At the mall."
"Oof," he winced dramatically. "Mall too? That's advanced stuff."
"Can you leave?" I muttered.
Instead, his eyes drifted downward.
And landed on the manga in my hands.
"Oh?" His grin widened. "What's this?"
I followed his gaze, then cursed internally.
He walked over and picked it up before I could react. "New volume? Didn't this just come out?"
"…Yeah."
"And let me guess," he said, glancing at me sideways. "She bought it."
I stayed quiet.
That was enough of an answer.
My brother let out a low whistle. "Wow. First dates, gifts, and manga. You're speedrunning romance."
"I said it wasn't a date!"
He laughed and tossed the manga back onto my bed. "Relax. I'm just messing with you."
Then, more quietly, "She seems important to you."
That line hit harder than I expected.
He shrugged and turned toward the door. "Don't stay up too late, Romeo."
"I swear—"
The door closed before I could finish.
I sat there for a moment, staring at the manga resting on my bed.
Slowly, I picked it up again.
The cover felt different this time.
Not because of the story inside.
But because of the person who gave it to me.
I lay back on my bed and opened the manga.
At least, that was the plan.
The first page stared back at me, full of dramatic art and bold text, the kind that usually pulled me in instantly. Normally, I would've already been five pages deep by now, completely gone.
Instead, I just… stared.
"…Focus," I muttered to myself and flipped the page.
Two panels in, my mind drifted.
I saw Saki standing in front of the bookstore, arms crossed, watching me like she already knew I was losing the battle. I shook my head lightly and turned another page.
Then I remembered the way she handed me the bag. Casual. Like it was nothing. Like she hadn't just made my entire day.
I sighed and let the book rest against my chest.
This was bad.
I sat up again, more determined this time. "Okay. Reading. Now."
I forced myself through a few pages. The story was good. Really good, actually. The main character was facing a familiar dilemma, choosing between short-term comfort and long-term growth.
And somehow, that made me think of her again.
When did that start happening?
I stared at the ceiling, fingers loosely holding the edge of the manga. I wasn't nervous exactly. It was more like… a quiet restlessness. Like something had shifted and I hadn't fully caught up to it yet.
Saki had always been there. Next door. Walking to school together. Teasing me about dumb things. Laughing like it was the easiest thing in the world.
So why did today feel different?
I turned my head and looked at the manga again.
She didn't just buy it because she felt like it. She remembered. She noticed. She cared enough to step in when I couldn't decide for myself.
My brother's words came back to me, uninvited.
She seems important to you.
I frowned slightly.
Was she?
The answer came faster than I expected.
Yeah. She was.
That realization didn't come with fireworks or dramatic music. It settled quietly, like a truth that had been waiting patiently for me to notice it.
I picked the manga up again, this time actually reading. The pages turned more easily now. Still, every few chapters, my thoughts slipped back to her. To the way she smiled when she teased me. To how normal everything felt when she was around.
And how I didn't want that to change.
By the time I closed the book, it was later than I realized. The room was dark except for the soft glow of my phone screen on the desk.
I set the manga carefully beside my bed.
"…I'm in trouble," I whispered, half-amused, half-resigned.
Not the bad kind.
The kind where something important was starting, whether I was ready or not.
And for the first time, that didn't scare me at all.
I stared at the ceiling.
Longer than necessary.
"…So," I said quietly to absolutely no one, "I like her."
The room did not explode.
The walls did not collapse.
Reality, unfortunately, stayed intact.
Which was suspicious.
I sat up slowly.
"I like Saki."
There. I said it again. For confirmation.
My heart skipped. My stomach flipped. My brain immediately slammed the emergency button.
PANIC.
Wait.
No.
No no no no no.
I slapped my hands onto my face.
"Since when?" I whispered urgently, like the answer might arrest me. "HOW long has this been going on?"
I replayed everything at lightning speed.
Walking to school together.
Her teasing.
The manga.
The way she handed it to me like it wasn't a big deal.
Oh no.
"Oh no," I said out loud.
This wasn't a small thing. This was a life-altering realization. This was the kind of thing that changed how you breathed around someone.
I stood up and started pacing my room.
"Okay, calm down," I told myself. "You like her. That's normal. People like people. Humans do that."
I nodded.
Yes. Logical. Calm. Mature.
Then my brain followed up with:
YOU HAVE TO SEE HER TOMORROW.
I froze mid-step.
"…Tomorrow," I echoed weakly.
I spun around and pointed at my bed like it had personally betrayed me. "Why did you let me realize this at NIGHT?"
Now everything made sense in the worst possible way.
How was I supposed to act normal now?
I imagined walking out of my house.
Good morning, Saki.
Too normal. Suspicious.
Hey.
Too casual. Cold.
So, uh, nice weather we're having, haha.
Absolutely not.
I grabbed my pillow and screamed into it.
"MMPH—THIS IS BAD."
I pulled the pillow away and inhaled deeply.
"Okay. Reset. You're fine."
I sat down. Hands on knees. Straight back. Calm breathing.
One.
Two.
Three.
I liked her. So what? I wasn't confessing tomorrow. I wasn't proposing marriage. Nothing had to change.
Right?
I relaxed a little.
Then another thought dropped from the sky like a meteor.
SHE BOUGHT YOU THE MANGA.
I shot back up.
"That means she was thinking about me," I said, pacing again. "Which means— no. Stop. Stop that thought."
What if she noticed me acting weird?
What if I smiled too much?
What if I accidentally stared?
What if she asked, "Are you okay?" and I answered, "Yeah," in a voice three octaves higher?
I pressed my forehead against the wall.
"I cannot be trusted with emotions," I declared.
I stepped back and took another breath.
"Okay. Strategy time."
Plan A: Act normal.
Plan B: If normal fails, pretend to be sick.
Plan C: Fake sudden interest in clouds.
I nodded. Solid plans.
I sat back down on my bed and glanced at the manga again.
She gave me that.
My chest tightened, but this time it wasn't panic. It was warm. Soft. Almost nice.
"…I really do like her," I admitted quietly.
Immediately—
PANIC ROUND TWO.
"WHY IS THAT NICE?" I hissed, flopping backward onto the bed. "THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE TERRIFYING."
I covered my face with both hands.
Okay. Okay. Enough.
I exhaled slowly, staring up at the ceiling again.
Tomorrow would come whether I was ready or not.
And yeah, I was terrified.
But underneath all the chaos, there was something else too.
Excitement.
I groaned.
"I'm doomed," I muttered.
But I was smiling.
The door creaked open again.
I didn't notice at first.
Big mistake.
"So," my brother's voice said calmly, way too calmly, "you gonna explain why you're talking to your ceiling like it owes you money?"
I jolted upright so fast I almost headbutted the air.
"HOW LONG WERE YOU STANDING THERE?"
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes sharp. "Long enough to hear 'I'm doomed' and 'this is bad.'"
I froze.
That… was not good.
He raised an eyebrow. "Wanna start from the top? Or should I assume you've joined a cult?"
"I— it's not—" I scrambled for words, which immediately made things worse.
He walked in slowly, predator-style. "Relax. I've seen this look before."
I frowned. "You have?"
"Yeah," he said casually. "Every time you were about to lose a match as a kid."
I opened my mouth to argue.
Then he added, "And every time you liked someone."
My soul left my body.
"…Excuse me?"
He sat down on my chair, spinning it slightly. "You're pacing. Overthinking. Dramatically declaring emotional ruin. Classic signs."
"I am not—"
"Haruto," he interrupted, dead serious, "you whispered 'I really like her' like you were confessing to a crime."
Silence.
Pure. Absolute. Silence.
I slowly pulled my blanket up to my chest like it could shield me from this conversation.
"…You heard that?"
"Oh yeah," he grinned. "Crystal clear."
I groaned and fell backward onto the bed. "Please erase my existence."
"Nope." He leaned forward. "Tell me. Is it the neighbor?"
I did not answer.
He snapped his fingers. "Oh. It is."
"I didn't say anything!"
"You didn't have to. Your face just filed a written confession."
I buried my face in the pillow. "This is the worst night of my life."
He laughed. Actually laughed. "So. How long?"
"I don't know!" I shouted into the pillow. "It just… happened."
He nodded like this was the most normal thing in the world. "And?"
"And now I don't know how to look at her," I muffled. "Or talk to her. Or exist near her."
He leaned back. "Congratulations. You're officially human."
I peeked at him. "That's not helpful."
"It is," he said. "Because liking someone doesn't mean you have to explode about it."
"…I already did."
"Internally," he corrected. "You're still alive. The house is intact. Society hasn't collapsed."
I thought about it.
Annoyingly, he was right.
He stood up and walked toward the door. "Just don't do anything stupid."
I nodded quickly. "I won't."
He paused, hand on the knob, and smirked.
"Also," he added, "if you mess this up, I'm absolutely telling her you practiced your confession on the ceiling."
"GET OUT."
He laughed as he left, closing the door behind him.
I stared at the ceiling again.
"…Traitor," I whispered.
But somehow, my chest felt lighter.
Terrified.
Embarrassed.
Hopelessly doomed.
And weirdly… kind of excited for tomorrow.
I flopped back onto the bed and covered my face with both hands.
"Why doesn't this earth just swallow me whole," I groaned.
From the hallway, my brother's voice immediately replied, way too cheerful, "Denied. Earth says it's busy."
"I hate you," I said flatly.
"You'll thank me later," he called back.
I dragged my hands down my face and stared at the ceiling again. My heart was still beating way too fast for someone lying completely still.
This was it. This was my life now.
Tomorrow morning, I would step out of my house. She would step out of hers. Same street. Same timing. Same everything.
Except now my brain had decided to upgrade the situation to Extreme Difficulty Mode.
"Act normal," I whispered. "You've been acting normal around her for years."
My brain immediately responded:
YOU WERE OBLIVIOUS THEN.
"Shut up," I told myself.
I rolled onto my side, clutching the pillow like it was emotional support. "Okay. Smile normally. Talk normally. Don't stare. Don't overthink."
I imagined her saying my name.
Instant regret.
I sat up again. "No. Stop imagining things."
I checked my phone. No messages. Of course not. She was probably already asleep. Being normal. Responsible. Not having a full-blown internal meltdown.
Unfair.
I let out a long sigh and lay back down, staring at the ceiling for the third time that night.
"Tomorrow," I muttered, half-prayer, half-warning, "please go easy on me."
The ceiling did not respond.
The earth did not swallow me.
And unfortunately… morning was inevitable.
I turned onto my side and squeezed my eyes shut.
"Sleep," I ordered myself. "Now."
Darkness. Silence.
For exactly half a second.
Then her face popped into my mind.
Clear. Detailed. Smiling.
I shot upright like I'd been possessed.
"NOPE."
My heart was pounding like I'd just sprinted a marathon. I pressed a hand to my chest, breathing hard.
"Okay," I whispered urgently. "That's fine. Faces happen. Faces are normal."
I lay back down.
Closed my eyes again.
Her eyes this time. Looking straight at me.
GOD-LEVEL PANIC.
I sprang out of bed.
"This is bad. This is really bad."
I started pacing my room at 2 a.m. like a haunted spirit. "Why is my brain doing this now? Why not during math class or something USEFUL?"
I needed to reset. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually.
So I turned sharply.
And kicked my bed.
Full force.
Worst. Choice. Of. My. Life.
The pain exploded instantly.
"AAAAAAAA—"
I hopped on one foot, clutching the other, hopping in tight circles like a cursed cartoon character.
"WHY— WOULD I— KICK— FURNITURE?"
I collapsed onto the bed, grabbing my toe and glaring at it like it had personally betrayed me.
"You're dead," I hissed. "Absolutely dead."
After several deep breaths and a quiet promise to never move again, I lay back down, exhausted, toe throbbing.
"…Okay," I muttered weakly. "Pain override. Good. This should work."
I closed my eyes again.
Darkness.
Calm.
Relief.
Then—
Her lips.
I froze.
Completely.
My brain zoomed in like it had a mind of its own.
Soft. Pink. Way too detailed.
I shot upright again.
"THIS IS ILLEGAL," I whispered aggressively. "BRAIN, THIS IS NOT ALLOWED."
I buried my face in the pillow, screaming silently.
What kind of sick joke was this? I'd survived exams. Badminton matches. My brother's teasing.
But this?
This was final boss territory.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling once more, toe aching, heart racing, soul exhausted.
"…I am never sleeping again," I muttered.
Outside, the night stayed quiet.
Inside, my brain absolutely refused to cooperate.
Tomorrow was going to destroy me.