The cherry blossoms fluttered gently in the spring breeze, some landing softly on the wooden bench where Isame sat, quietly sipping his canned tea. Ai stood in front of him, arms crossed, eyes locked on him with her usual fiery intensity.
Ai:
"Fuji Isame."
He looked up, calm as ever.
Isame:
"…What?"
Ai took a sharp breath, then suddenly dropped to one knee like a scene from a drama — except her expression wasn't dreamy. It was dead serious.
Ai:
"I like you. Be my boyfriend."
Isame blinked. Once.
Isame:
"…Huh?"
Ai (leaning in):
"You heard me. Don't play dumb."
Isame:
"Wait—why now?"
Ai:
"Because I feel like it. Because I want to. Because I decided."
She stood up, hands on hips now, towering over him like a stormcloud in a school skirt.
Ai:
"And don't give me that 'I need to think' line. You've had plenty of time. Say yes or no. Right now."
Isame looked up at her — the sunlight behind her turning the edges of her hair gold, her eyes narrowed, stubborn, burning with something real.
Isame:
"…This is a lot to drop on a guy during lunch."
Ai (leaning down, face inches from his):
"So? Do you want me or not?"
Isame stared at her. Then he blinked. Then, after a long beat…
Isame:
"…If I say yes, do I get to finish my tea in peace?"
Ai:
"If you say yes, you get me. That's better than tea."
He sighed. Deeply. Then looked away. Then looked back at her.
Isame:
"…Fine. Yes."
Ai paused. Then smiled — not the smug smile she always wore, but a real one. A brilliant one.
Ai:
"Good. You're mine now. No backing out."
She turned around and walked off without waiting, hands behind her head, hair catching more falling petals.
Later that evening, the school grounds were empty, quiet, lit only by the soft glow of the moon and scattered streetlights. Isame leaned against the back wall of the school building, his hands in his pockets, waiting.
She arrived, just like he asked — still in uniform, hair slightly messy from the wind.
Ai:
"…You texted me. What's up?"
Isame:
"I have a question."
Ai:
"Okay? Ask it, boyfriend."
Her smirk didn't reach her eyes.
Isame:
"Why me?"
She blinked.
Isame:
"You said you like me. But you barely know me. I'm not popular. I don't stand out. So why me?"
Ai was quiet for a moment. The wind brushed her bangs aside.
Ai:
"…Because you looked calm."
Isame:
"Huh?"
Ai:
"You were just… sitting there when I first saw you. Everyone else was loud, fake, pretending. But you… you looked like you didn't care what anyone thought. Like the world could burn, and you'd still sip your tea."
Isame:
"…That's your reason?"
She looked down.
Ai:
"No."
A long silence stretched between them.
Ai (softly):
"…There's another reason."
Isame watched her carefully. Her usual confidence had slipped.
Isame:
"Go on."
Ai:
"There's a marriage proposal. A real one. From a family I don't care about. A future I don't want."
She crossed her arms, almost defensively.
Ai:
"My parents think I should settle down. With some boy from a business partner's family. They want me to 'secure my future.' But I didn't want any part of it."
She met his eyes, finally.
Ai:
"So I told them I already had someone. Someone I chose.
Isamu stands alone, the city skyline stretching before him. The sun dips low, casting long shadows. A gentle breeze rustles his hair as he clutches a crumpled note in his hand.
Isamu (softly): So, it was all a lie.
He laughs bitterly, the sound swallowed by the wind.
Isamu: I was just a pawn in her game—a convenient escape route from a life she didn't choose. All those lunches, the shared smiles, the moments that felt so real... they were rehearsed, scripted.
He gazes at the horizon, eyes distant.
Isamu: I thought I was special. I thought... maybe, just maybe, someone saw me for who I am. But I was just a placeholder, a means to an end.
He crumples the note further, his knuckles whitening.
Isamu: Why did I let myself believe? Why did I open up, let her in? I should've known better.
He takes a deep breath, the air sharp in his lungs.
Isamu: But maybe... maybe it's not all her fault. Maybe I saw what I wanted to see, heard what I wanted to hear. Maybe I was so desperate for connection that I ignored the signs.
He closes his eyes, letting the wind wash over him.
Isamu: I won't be a toy in someone else's story again. From now on, I write my own script.
He opens his eyes, determination flickering within.
Isamu:No more illusions. Just reality, no matter how harsh.
The restaurant's neon sign flickered in the cool night air, casting a pale glow on the empty street. Arata stood outside, his phone pressed to his ear, listening to the monotonous ring.
Arata (concerned):
"Come on, Isamu. Pick up."
But there was no answer. Arata sighed, pocketed his phone, and glanced up at the apartment building before him. The windows were dark, save for one faint light on the second floor.
Arata (muttering):
"Guess I'm going up."
He climbed the stairs two at a time, his footsteps echoing in the silent hallway. Reaching Isamu's door, he knocked firmly.
Arata:
"Isamu? It's me, Arata. You okay in there?"
No response. Arata tried the doorknob—it turned easily
Arata (softly):
"I'm coming in."
The apartment was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a small desk lamp in the corner. Isamu sat on the floor, his back against the wall, staring blankly ahead.
Arata (approaching cautiously):
"Hey, man. You had us worried. You didn't show up for your shift, and you weren't answering your phone."
Isamu didn't respond. His eyes were hollow, his face pale.
Arata (sitting beside him):
"Talk to me, Isamu. What's going on?"
Isamu turned his head slowly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Isamu:
"She used me, Arata. Ai... she pretended to care, but it was all a lie. Just a way to escape her arranged marriage."
Arata (shocked):
"What? Are you sure?"
Isamu:
"She admitted it. Said our relationship was just a facade. I was just a pawn in her game."
Arata clenched his fists, anger and concern swirling within him.
Arata:
"I'm so sorry, Isamu. You didn't deserve this."
Isamu (voice trembling):
"It's like when my mother died. That same emptiness... it's back."
Arata placed a comforting hand on Isamu's shoulder.
Arata:
"You're not alone, Isamu. I'm here for you. We'll get through this together."
They sat in silence, the weight of the moment settling around them. Outside, the city buzzed with life, oblivious to the quiet despair within the apartment.