Morning arrived like a personal attack.
I stared at the ceiling, wide awake, long before my alarm even thought about ringing. My eyes felt dry. My brain felt fried. My soul had clearly clocked out sometime around 3 a.m.
When the alarm finally did go off, I didn't jump. I didn't groan.
I just turned my head slowly and stared at it.
"…I survived," I muttered.
Barely.
I dragged myself out of bed and shuffled toward the mirror.
Big mistake.
The reflection staring back at me looked like I had just lost a ten-episode battle against insomnia.
Red eyes.
Dark circles so deep they deserved their own postal code.
Hair doing its own experimental art project.
"…Who are you?" I whispered.
My reflection did not answer. It looked just as tired as I felt.
I splashed water on my face. Once. Twice. Five times.
Nothing changed.
"Great," I sighed. "I look like a side character who hasn't slept since episode one."
As I brushed my teeth, my brain decided to reboot at the worst possible moment.
You're going to see Saki.
I froze, toothbrush halfway out of my mouth.
Foam dripped.
Panic loaded instantly.
"…Oh no."
I spat, rinsed, and leaned against the sink like I'd just received devastating news.
Today wasn't just a school day.
It was a Saki day.
My chest tightened.
What if she noticed?
The dark circles. The weird energy. The fact that I might accidentally stare at her for three seconds too long and combust on the spot.
I practiced in the mirror.
"Morning."
Too stiff.
"Hey."
Too casual.
"Good morning, Saki."
Why did that sound like a confession.
I groaned and covered my face.
"This is impossible."
I changed into my uniform slowly, every movement heavy like I was walking through water. As I tied my tie, another thought hit me.
What if she smiles at me?
I dropped the tie.
"WHY IS THIS MY LIFE?"
I re-tied it. Poorly. Fixed it. Tried to breathe.
I grabbed my bag and stepped out of my room, immediately bumping into my brother.
He took one look at my face and burst out laughing.
"Wow," he said. "Rough night, Romeo?"
"Don't call me that," I muttered.
He leaned in closer. "Did you even sleep?"
"I closed my eyes," I said. "That counts."
He patted my shoulder. "Good luck today."
That did not help.
I slipped on my shoes, heart pounding harder with every second.
Because in just a few steps…
I'd see her.
And I was absolutely not ready.
I stood at the front door longer than necessary.
Hand on the handle. Bag slung over my shoulder. Heart trying to escape through my ribs.
"Okay," I whispered. "You've done this walk a thousand times."
My brain immediately replied:
NOT LIKE THIS YOU HAVEN'T.
I swallowed and opened the door.
Morning air hit my face, cool and unforgiving. The street was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that made you painfully aware of every sound you made, including your own footsteps and your own rapidly approaching doom.
I stepped outside.
One step.
Two steps.
I glanced sideways.
Her gate was still closed.
Relief flooded my body so fast my knees almost gave out.
"Okay," I muttered. "She's not out yet. Breathe. You can do this."
I took three calming breaths.
In.
Out.
In—
Her gate opened.
I froze.
Actually froze. Like someone had hit pause on me.
Saki stepped out, adjusting her bag strap, looking completely normal. Too normal. Like she hadn't spent the night haunting someone's brain and ruining their sleep schedule.
She looked up.
Our eyes met.
"Morning, Haruto," she said, smiling.
My soul left my body.
"M—" I started.
Nothing came out.
My brain was screaming. My heart was sprinting. My mouth had forgotten how language worked.
Say it. Say morning. It's one word. You've known this word since kindergarten.
"…Morn— good— hey," I blurted out.
Smooth. Extremely smooth.
She blinked once.
Then tilted her head. "Are you okay?"
Panic level: CRITICAL.
"Yes," I said too quickly. "I mean— yeah. Totally. Perfectly fine. Never better."
She stared at me.
I immediately realized my mistake.
"Oh— not that I'm great or anything— I mean I'm fine— like normal fine—" I waved my hands awkwardly. "You know. Human fine."
She squinted slightly.
"…You look tired."
That hit harder than any badminton smash.
"I slept," I lied.
She crossed her arms. "You have dark circles."
"They're… fashionable," I said weakly.
She stared for half a second longer.
Then she laughed.
Actually laughed.
Not teasing. Not mocking. Just warm, amused laughter.
I felt my chest tighten.
"Did you stay up late reading?" she asked.
The manga flashed in my mind.
Her gift.
My panic skyrocketed again.
"…Something like that," I admitted.
She smiled. "I knew it."
And just like that, we started walking.
Side by side. Same pace. Same street.
Exactly like always.
Except my brain was on fire.
Every small thing felt louder now. The sound of her footsteps. The way her sleeve brushed mine when we walked too close. The way she hummed quietly under her breath.
I kept sneaking glances at her, immediately looking away every time she turned.
Act normal. Act normal. Act normal.
"So," she said casually, "did you like it?"
The manga.
I nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. "Yeah. It was really good."
"I thought so."
There was a brief silence.
Not awkward. Just… full.
She looked ahead. "I'm glad."
That simple sentence did something to me.
My heart did a stupid little flip.
And right then, as we reached the corner where the school came into view, I realized something terrifying.
This wasn't getting easier.
And somehow…
I didn't want it to.
We were almost at the school gate when Saki spoke again, way too casually for someone about to destroy my remaining sanity.
"By the way," she said, "have you started preparing for the midterms?"
My brain slammed the brakes.
"…Midterms."
Yes. Those existed. Unfortunately.
I laughed. A strange, hollow laugh. "Haha… preparations… yeah… about that…"
She glanced at me sideways. "You haven't started, have you?"
"I was going to," I said quickly. "Mentally. Emotionally. Spiritually."
She sighed, shaking her head. "Haruto."
That single word carried disappointment, concern, and mild judgment. A devastating combo.
"I'll help you," she added.
The first three seconds were fine.
Perfectly fine.
"Oh," I said. "That'd be nice."
Normal response. Calm tone. Nailed it.
Then my brain caught up.
She'll help you.
Help.
Study.
Together.
Images flooded in without permission.
Sitting side by side.
Notes spread out.
Her leaning closer to explain something.
Her saying my name when I got something wrong.
I stopped walking.
Completely.
Saki took two more steps before realizing I wasn't beside her anymore. She turned around.
"…Haruto?"
I was standing there like a broken NPC. Eyes wide. Soul buffering.
"Earth to Haruto?"
No response.
She stepped closer and waved a hand in front of my face. "Hello?"
I blinked once.
Twice.
"Oh— yeah— sorry," I said quickly, resuming movement like nothing happened. "Studying. Sure. Sounds good. Very… academic."
She raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"
"Never been better," I lied again.
She hummed thoughtfully. Then, as if she hadn't already pushed me to the edge, she added:
"We could study at my house."
Time stopped.
Sound cut out.
My soul exited my body, packed its bags, and boarded the next train to the afterlife.
At her house.
HER. HOUSE.
I felt something leave me. Probably my consciousness.
"Haruto?"
I stared straight ahead, mouth slightly open.
"…Study… at your… house," I repeated faintly.
"Yeah," she said. "It's quieter. And it's closer than the library."
Logical. Reasonable. Perfectly innocent.
My brain, however, was on fire.
House.
Her room.
Daily studying.
Every day.
I think I physically stopped breathing.
She frowned. "You're not against it, right?"
"No," I blurted out. "I mean— not against— I mean— I'm very much pro— I mean—"
I stopped.
Closed my eyes.
Took a deep breath.
"…That'd be fine," I said, forcing the words out like I was defusing a bomb.
She smiled. "Good. We'll start today after school."
Today.
Today.
I nodded stiffly.
"Great," she said, turning back toward the school gate.
I followed beside her, legs moving on autopilot.
Inside, I was screaming.
If I survived this week, it would be nothing short of a miracle.
I kept walking.
Physically, I was moving toward the school gate.
Mentally, I was running laps inside my own head, screaming.
Calm down.
Calm. Down.
I forced my breathing to slow. In. Out. In. Out.
"Okay," I told myself firmly, "you've been to her house like… a thousand times."
That was true.
I'd eaten snacks there. Watched TV. Done homework. Complained about teachers. Borrowed pens. Fallen asleep on the floor once.
Nothing weird had ever happened.
So this was fine.
Totally fine.
Nothing has changed, I insisted. It's just studying.
My brain immediately replied:
SHE INVITED YOU.
"STOP," I thought aggressively.
I tried again.
You're just classmates.
Neighbors.
Friends.
Friends study together all the time.
Normal people do this daily.
This is healthy.
This is productive.
This is—
My brain dropped a nuclear weapon.
An image formed without warning.
Saki, sitting at her desk.
Books spread out neatly.
Slightly leaning forward.
Wearing reading glasses.
Reading. Glasses.
I didn't even know if she owned any.
My face ignited.
Like someone had flipped a switch.
Scarlet red. Instantaneous. 0.00001 seconds flat.
I nearly tripped over my own foot.
"—?!" I made a strangled noise and snapped my head forward, staring intensely at the school gate like it was my only anchor to reality.
WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT.
My ears were burning. My neck was burning. My soul was actively evaporating.
I slapped both hands onto my cheeks like that might cool them down.
She's just studying.
She's just wearing glasses.
Glasses are NORMAL.
My brain, traitor that it was, added:
BUT SHE'D LOOK GOOD.
I almost cried.
I squeezed my eyes shut for half a second, then reopened them, praying my face had returned to a socially acceptable color.
It hadn't.
"Haruto," Saki said beside me, squinting slightly. "You're really red."
"I'm fine," I squeaked.
That was not my voice.
She stared at me. "…Are you sure?"
"Yes," I said quickly. "Absolutely. Just… thinking."
"About?"
"Midterms," I lied.
She nodded, satisfied. "Yeah. They're scary."
You have no idea, I thought.
We reached the school gate, students flowing in around us, the normal noise of morning washing over me.
Outwardly, everything looked the same.
Inside, I was barely holding it together.
Studying at her house.
Every day.
I swallowed.
If this didn't kill me…
It was definitely going to change everything.
The classroom was already noisy when we stepped in.
Chairs scraped, voices overlapped, someone was arguing about homework near the windows. Same chaos as always. Normally, that kind of noise helped reset my brain.
Today, it barely registered.
I dropped into my seat and let my forehead rest against the desk for a second.
Survive the day, I told myself. Just make it to lunch.
"Wow," a familiar voice said. "You look like you got hit by a truck."
I cracked one eye open.
Kenta was standing beside my desk, hands on his hips, wearing that annoying grin like he'd just found free entertainment. Mei stood next to him, arms crossed, scanning me with zero sympathy.
"Good morning to you too," I muttered.
Mei leaned closer. "Red eyes. Dark circles. Slumped posture."
She nodded. "Diagnosis: didn't sleep."
"Thank you, doctor," I said. "I'm cured."
Kenta crouched a bit to get a better look at my face. "So what happened? Late-night gaming? Existential crisis? Secret training arc?"
"None of the above," I said.
Saki slid into the seat beside me, setting her bag down calmly, like my entire internal system wasn't collapsing.
Kenta's eyes flicked between us.
Once.
Twice.
"…Oh," he said slowly. "You came together."
"We walked together," Saki corrected. "Like always."
"Yeah," I added quickly, lifting my head. "Same route. Same timing."
Kenta nodded. "Right. Normal. Totally normal."
Mei looked at Saki. "He's been like this since morning?"
She nodded. "Pretty much."
Kenta turned back to me. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," I said. "Absolutely nothing."
Saki tilted her head slightly. "We talked about midterms."
Kenta froze.
"…Midterms," he repeated. "That explains the trauma."
"I'm helping him study," Saki added.
Mei raised an eyebrow. "At school?"
"At my house."
Dead silence.
Kenta slowly turned to face me.
Very slowly.
"…Bro," he whispered. "Rest in peace."
I dropped my forehead back onto the desk.
The bell rang right on time, cutting off whatever chaos was about to happen next.
As the teacher walked in and everyone scrambled back to their seats, I stayed where I was, unmoving.
It wasn't even noon yet.
And I was already fighting for my life.
The teacher cleared his throat and began writing on the board.
"Today we'll revise for the upcoming midterms."
I felt my soul attempt to exit again.
Of course. Of course this is how today goes.
"Haruto."
I flinched so hard my chair squeaked.
"Yes?" I croaked.
The teacher glanced at me over his glasses. "You look unwell. Did you sleep?"
"No," my brain answered honestly.
"Yes," my mouth lied automatically.
Saki turned toward me, concern softening her eyes. "You really should've slept."
That did it.
My brain stopped functioning completely.
She's worried about me.
She's sitting next to me.
She's going to help me study.
At her house.
I stared straight ahead, body rigid, like if I moved even a millimeter I'd combust.
Kenta, sitting two rows back, leaned forward and whispered loudly, "Blink twice if you're being held hostage."
Mei smacked his desk with her pen. "Leave him alone. He's clearly buffering."
The teacher continued lecturing, unaware that a full-scale psychological disaster was unfolding in the second row.
A few minutes later, Saki slid her notebook slightly toward me.
"I made some notes from last year," she whispered. "You can copy them if you want."
I looked down.
Neat handwriting. Clean diagrams. Little stars next to important points.
My heart did something illegal.
"Haruto?" she whispered again.
I nodded too fast. "Yes. I mean. Thanks. I mean. I'll—"
I tried to reach for the notebook.
My hand missed.
I grabbed air.
Kenta snorted.
I tried again.
This time I knocked my pencil off the desk.
It rolled away dramatically, like it wanted no part in this.
"I'll get it," Saki said, already bending down.
No. Bad. Very bad.
My brain screamed.
As she leaned down, her hair fell forward slightly, catching the light from the window.
Abort mission. Abort mission. This is not a drill.
I slammed my hand on the desk and stood up so suddenly my chair fell backward.
The entire class turned to look at me.
"I'LL GET IT," I said too loudly.
The teacher paused mid-sentence.
"…Is everything alright, Haruto?"
"Yes," I said again. "Perfect. Never better."
I picked up the pencil, sat back down, and avoided eye contact with everyone, including the concept of reality.
Saki looked confused, then smiled a little. "You're really tense today."
Mei leaned over from the side. "He's not tense. He's in love."
I choked.
Kenta burst out laughing.
"MEI," I hissed.
Saki blinked. "Huh?"
"Nothing," Mei said calmly. "Just an observation."
I could feel my face heating up again. If embarrassment had a temperature limit, I'd passed it.
The bell finally rang, signaling the end of the period.
Freedom.
Temporary freedom.
As everyone started packing up, Saki turned to me again.
"So… after school, we can start today if you want."
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Kenta slapped my back. "He wants to. Look at him. He's thrilled."
I nodded weakly.
Inside, my mind was screaming.
Today?
TODAY?
This day had just started.
And somehow, I already knew.
I wasn't surviving it without losing my sanity.
Lunch break hit like a mercy bell.
Haruto sat at his usual spot, mechanically opening his lunch box while his brain was still running on emergency mode. Rice. Pickles. Something fried. He stared at it like it might suddenly ask him about his life choices.
Kenta dropped down across from him, already chewing. "So," he said casually, way too casually, "practice today?"
That sentence.
That single, harmless sentence.
Haruto froze with his chopsticks suspended in mid-air.
Practice meant the court.
The court meant badminton drills.
Badminton drills meant after school.
After school meant Saki.
And Saki meant… watching.
His brain immediately betrayed him.
Saki sitting near the side of the court.
Saki following the shuttle with her eyes.
Saki clapping lightly when he landed a clean smash.
His heartbeat spiked so hard it felt illegal.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
He imagined mistiming a jump.
Hitting the net.
Missing an easy return.
Sweating too much.
Breathing too loud.
Existing wrong.
Even worse.
What if she watched him and thought, Oh. He's… average.
What if she didn't watch at all?
That thought alone nearly made him curl into his lunch box.
"Haruto?" Kenta waved a hand in front of his face. "You okay?"
"I'm… thinking," Haruto said stiffly.
Kenta squinted. "That's never a good sign."
Mei slid into the seat beside them, poking at her food. "Let me guess. Someone said one sentence and his brain ran ten kilometers ahead."
Haruto pointed at her. "Exactly that."
Kenta leaned forward. "So? Practice or not?"
Haruto swallowed.
How was he supposed to explain that the idea of Saki watching him play badminton made his soul attempt a full system shutdown?
"She might… be there," he muttered.
Kenta's face lit up. "Ohhh."
"No," Haruto snapped. "Don't 'oh' me."
Mei smirked. "You're scared you'll mess up in front of her."
"I am not scared," Haruto said. "I am being cautious."
"Same thing," both of them said together.
Haruto leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "If I practice now, I'll panic. If I panic, I'll play badly. If I play badly, I'll remember it forever. If I remember it forever, I'll never recover."
Mei blinked. "That escalated."
"So," Haruto said, sitting up straight like he'd reached enlightenment, "I'm not practicing until midterms are over."
Kenta stared at him. "You're postponing badminton… because Saki might watch you?"
Haruto corrected him immediately. "Because my brain is fragile right now."
Mei lifted her drink. "Honest, at least."
Laughter floated across the cafeteria.
Haruto stiffened instantly.
He didn't need to turn around.
He knew.
"She's here," he whispered.
Kenta followed his gaze and grinned. "Yep. And no, she's definitely not looking this way."
Haruto snapped back forward. "Why would you even say that."
Too late.
His heart was already sprinting again.
"Decision final," he said, standing up with his lunch box. "No practice. Midterms first. Mental stability first."
Mei shook her head. "You're unbelievable."
As Haruto walked away, he thought grimly that midterms couldn't end fast enough.
Because if this continued…
Badminton might not be what broke him.
Saki would.
The final bell rang like a pardon from prison.
Haruto packed his bag a little too fast, slinging it over his shoulder as if speed might protect him from his own thoughts. He told himself to act normal. Just walk home. Same road. Same pace. Same Saki he'd known for years.
Easy.
Except nothing was easy anymore.
They stepped out of the school gates together, the afternoon sun hanging low and warm. The street buzzed softly with students heading in different directions, voices overlapping, bikes rattling past.
Saki walked beside him, her steps relaxed, hands lightly gripping her bag straps. "You were really quiet today," she said, tilting her head slightly. "Did you stay up late?"
Haruto's brain screamed YESANDITWASYOURFAULT, but his mouth chose survival.
"Uh… yeah. Couldn't sleep," he said.
She hummed. "You look exhausted. Your eyes are scary."
"That's comforting," he replied.
She smiled, clearly enjoying this. "Anyway," she said casually, way too casually, "about studying."
There it was.
Haruto's shoulders tensed so fast it should have made a sound.
"I was thinking," Saki continued, eyes forward, tone calm, "you can come over in an hour. After we get home and freshen up."
An hour.
Not tomorrow.
Not someday.
An hour.
Haruto's internal systems shut down one by one.
He nodded automatically. "Okay."
Why did he say okay so easily.
Saki glanced at him. "You sure? You don't look okay."
"I am perfectly okay," he said, voice slightly too stiff. "An hour is… a reasonable amount of time."
She laughed softly. "Relax. It's not like it's anything new."
That's the problem, his brain whispered.
They walked the rest of the way in a strange, comfortable silence. The kind they'd shared a thousand times before. The kind that somehow felt completely different now.
Their houses came into view, sitting right next to each other like always.
Saki stopped at her gate and turned to him. "So. One hour."
He nodded again. "One hour."
She stepped inside, pausing just long enough to add, "Don't be late."
Then she was gone.
Haruto stood there for a second longer than necessary.
"One hour," he muttered to himself.
His heart immediately started panicking again.
This was going to be a long sixty minutes.
Haruto hadn't even taken two steps toward his front door when a shadow peeled itself off the wall between the houses.
"Wow," a familiar voice said. "Studying already?"
Haruto froze.
Slowly, very slowly, he turned his head.
His brother was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, wearing that exact smirk. The one that meant emotional damage was about to occur.
"So," his brother continued, eyes sharp, grin widening, "studying with your girlfriend, huh?"
Haruto's soul left his body, filed a resignation letter, and moved to another country.
"She's not my girlfriend!" he blurted out way too fast.
His brother raised an eyebrow. "Didn't ask that urgently, but noted."
Haruto groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "You were eavesdropping?"
"I live here," his brother said proudly. "And walls in this house have always betrayed us."
He pushed off the wall and walked closer. "One hour, huh? That's pretty specific. Very… date-like."
"It's not a date," Haruto said, even though he himself no longer believed that sentence. "It's studying. Midterms."
"Mhm." His brother nodded like a wise monk. "At her house."
Haruto felt his face heat up again. "We've done that a million times before!"
"And how many of those times did you look like you were about to faint?" his brother shot back.
Haruto opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away.
That was a mistake.
"Oh?" his brother leaned in slightly. "So something has changed."
"Nothing has changed," Haruto said, voice cracking in betrayal.
His brother laughed. Not loud. Worse. Soft and satisfied. "Sure. That's why you've been walking like a zombie all day and staring at the ground like it owes you money."
Haruto clenched his fists. "Why are you like this."
"Because you're entertaining," his brother said cheerfully. "And because it's my duty as an older brother to tease you the moment romance even thinks about entering your life."
"It hasn't entered!" Haruto snapped. "It just… knocked a little."
"Oh, it kicked the door down," his brother said. "Face it. You like her."
Haruto felt his heart slam against his ribs.
"I—" He stopped himself. "I'm going inside."
"Don't forget," his brother called after him, "try not to die while studying."
Haruto walked straight into the house, shut the door behind him, and leaned against it.
One hour.
Why did one hour suddenly feel like the countdown to the end of the world?
Haruto slammed his door shut and slid down against it, breathing heavily. One hour. One measly hour to prepare himself for the apocalypse disguised as "studying at Saki's house."
Calm down. You've been to her house a thousand times. Nothing will happen.
Lies. Absolute lies.
He swung his legs up onto the bed and began pacing like a man possessed. Clothes, backpack, notes… what should he bring? How should he act? Should he act like normal Haruto or normal-but-still-cool Haruto?
Normal-but-still-cool? What does that even mean?
He opened his closet and stared blankly at the shirts. His eyes jumped from one plain T-shirt to another like a squirrel on caffeine. Nothing looked right.
"Focus, brain!" he muttered. "It's just studying. A notebook. A pen. You can do this."
Then his thoughts betrayed him again.
She'll be there. She might wear glasses. And when she does… oh no… she'll look smart. Too smart. And she'll explain things clearly. And she'll smile. AND SHE'LL BE LOOKING AT YOU WHILE SMILING. GAH!
He whirled around and grabbed his pencil case, tossing it onto the bed. Pens, pencils, highlighters… everything spilled across the floor in a chaotic rainbow. He groaned.
Why is preparation so dangerous?
Next, he tried packing his bag. Each item he touched somehow seemed like it could destroy his chances of survival. Pencil first? Notebook first? Maybe he should bring snacks. No, snacks would make him look desperate. Maybe a water bottle… but what if she judges the brand?
He finally shoved everything in, half on top of each other, forming a precarious tower that threatened to collapse the moment he moved.
Perfect. Disaster ready. Ready to panic.
He stopped, hand hovering over the zipper. His mind flicked again. What if I trip on the doorstep? What if I… sneeze while she's talking? What if I… think too hard and drool?
The thought of actually stepping into her house had him sweating like he'd run a marathon. He grabbed a clean shirt, put it on, but then paused. Is it too casual? Too neat? Does neat mean I'm trying too hard?
He flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. His eyes darted left and right as if answers might be hiding somewhere.
She's just Saki. Just Saki. Just Saki.
That was supposed to be reassuring. It didn't work.
He leapt up again. "Focus. Books. Midterms. Not… not her lips. Not her glasses. Not her smile."
But the moment he said it, he imagined her leaning over a notebook, glasses perched on her nose, explaining something… and blushing. Not literally blushing—he was blushing for her, in advance.
This is illegal. This is unfair. This is… God. Help.
He grabbed his notebook, flung it on the bed, and immediately spilled his pens again. He groaned, crawled under the desk to pick them up, and nearly kicked the chair into the wall.
Finally, with every possible object packed and repacked twice, Haruto slumped onto the bed again. His hair was a mess, clothes slightly wrinkled, heart racing at warp speed.
I'm ready, he told himself. Totally ready.
Of course, the moment he said that, he imagined walking through her door, Saki's eyes lifting to greet him, and his stomach flipped.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
He jumped off the bed, pacing again. One hour felt like a week.
I can do this. I've survived worse. I've survived… thinking about her glasses. I've survived… thinking about her lips. I can survive walking through the door. I… I…
He froze mid-step. The one thought that truly scared him: She's waiting. And she might be judging my bag packing. My shirt. My soul.
Haruto threw himself onto the bed, buried his face in the pillow, and screamed internally.
God-level panic engaged. Abort all plans. Evacuate body. Soul, exit stage left!
And then, of course, he peeked at the clock. Fifty-five minutes to go.
Why is time moving this slowly?
It was going to be the longest hour of his life.
Haruto flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, heart hammering like a bass drum. One hour to survive the ultimate study session. One hour to enter Saki's house without spontaneously combusting. One hour to… not completely lose his mind.
Then his phone buzzed.
Kenta.
All the best, bro! Don't die!
Haruto's eyes widened. Don't die? Was this… encouragement? Or a subtle warning?
He opened the message and immediately got another one.
Kenta: RIP in advance.
Haruto shrieked. Quietly. Into the pillow.
Mei's message popped up next: Good luck. You'll need it. And try not to faint or drool or do anything weird.
THANK YOU. THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT, Haruto thought frantically.
He stared at the screen, blinking rapidly. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Do I… respond? No, don't respond. Responding is dangerous. Don't respond, don't respond…
Kenta sent another message. Seriously though, stay alive. RIP again if you fail.
Haruto threw his phone across the bed. It bounced off the pillow.
This is not helpful. This is chaos. This is… a psychological nuke in my pocket.
He imagined Kenta and Mei laughing at him from a safe distance, sipping bubble tea and watching the panic unfold.
WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS? he screamed internally.
He groaned, rolling over on his back. The ceiling stared back, unforgiving and blank. Fifty-five minutes. That was all he had to prepare. Fifty-five minutes to calm his soul, pack the right things, pick a shirt that wasn't too neat or too sloppy, remember pens, pencils, water, notes…
And don't faint. Don't drool. Don't say anything stupid. Don't trip. Don't… breathe wrong.
Kenta sent one final message: Ok, fine. I'll pray for you.
Haruto blinked at the screen. Pray. That's it. Just pray.
He muttered to himself: "I am… not… surviving this."
Mei's last message popped up at the same time: You're doomed. Totally doomed.
Haruto groaned so hard he scared the cat.
Fifty-five minutes.
He buried his face in his pillow. And then, of course, he imagined Saki walking toward him through his room like a vision of calm—and chaos simultaneously.
Abort mission. Soul, evacuate. Body, hide. Heart, stop hammering. Brain… just… explode.
He peeked at the clock. Fifty-four minutes left.
Why does time move so slowly when your life is about to be destroyed by a study session?
Haruto sighed, flopped back on his bed, and whispered to the ceiling: "Kenta, Mei… you'll pay for this. Somehow. Someday."
And then, of course, he imagined them laughing even harder, watching him panic from a safe, cool distance.
I'm doomed. Absolutely doomed.
Haruto stood at his front door, backpack slung over his shoulder, staring at the small gap between his house and Saki's. Just a few steps. Literally less than ten. His brain, of course, decided this was a life-or-death marathon.
Okay. Just ten steps. Ten steps. Nothing can go wrong in ten steps. Totally normal.
He took a tentative step. And stopped.
Stop. Breathe. Don't trip. Don't sweat. Don't explode.
Another step. Heart rate spiked. Sweat beaded his forehead. His backpack dug into his shoulder like it was made of lead.
It's only ten steps. Ten! That's literally nothing. Why do I feel like I'm crossing the Sahara?
He looked at Saki's door. Calm. Safe. Casual. Innocent. Dangerous. His knees went wobbly.
She's there. She's looking at me. Oh no. She might… judge my shoes. Or my hair. Or… my soul.
Haruto froze mid-step. One foot hovered over the tiny step between the two porches.
Abort. Abort mission. Soul, evacuate. Body, hide. Heart, stop hammering.
He muttered under his breath, "Just… ten… steps…"
Another step. Then another. His brain fired off ten thousand panic scenarios simultaneously:
What if I trip? What if I sneeze? What if I say 'hi' and my voice cracks? What if she sees I'm panicking? What if she smiles and it destroys me?
Finally, he reached her porch. One step. One. Step.
Saki looked up from her phone. Calm, smiling. "Hey, Haruto!"
She's smiling. She's smiling. My internal organs are failing.
"H-hey!" he stammered, voice cracking.
"Ready to study?" she asked, slipping her bag over her shoulder.
Ready? Ready? I'm not ready! I'm not ready! I'm… exploding…
"I… yeah! Totally… ready!" he blurted, nearly stumbling over the tiny step.
Saki tilted her head, grinning. "Good. Let's go inside."
Haruto nodded vigorously, backing into her doorway like a man defusing a bomb. His heart was racing, his palms were sweaty, and every thought in his head screamed: You survived ten steps. Ten. Steps.
And that's how the "journey" began.