Chapter 11

The next day at school, I finally felt a weight lift off my shoulders. During class, my phone buzzed with a message from Yanagi: Received the money. You’re clear, no further action needed. I let out a sigh of relief, sinking back into my chair. Finally, I could relax—no more worries hanging over me. Maybe, just maybe, I could even catch up on some sleep.

But just as I was about to drift off, a commotion broke out around me. Curious, I lifted my head to see what the noise was all about, and froze.

Standing in the doorway was Haruna.

Beside her was a tall girl, towering over everyone around her, with the kind of build that made me think she could be on the basketball team—long legs, confident stance, her shoulders squared like she could take on anyone in the room. She had a strong, protective air about her, and Haruna looked so small and fragile next to her, almost like she was hiding in her shadow.

The tall girl’s eyes scanned the room, lingering just enough that I couldn’t tell exactly who she was looking for. But for some reason, it felt like she was staring right at me.

A murmur swept through the classroom, and all heads seemed to shift subtly in my direction. My pulse quickened, and I felt a creeping tension settle in. Was I about to get called out? My mind raced back to the scenes I’d skimmed through in shoujo manga—the dramatic, public confessions, the big moments that put someone in the spotlight. Was this… one of those?

I shifted in my seat, my heart pounding louder as I started to stand, still half-convinced that all eyes were on me.

Just as I was about to rise from my seat, trying to figure out what was happening, a guy near the front suddenly stood up, heading toward the doorway without a word. I watched him, confused. Who was he?

With an air of confidence that seemed a bit too familiar for my liking, he moved toward the tall girl and Haruna, as if he was exactly who she was calling for. The class was watching him too, but with that same look of recognition I didn't have.

The classroom erupted with excited whispers and squeals, the kind of noise that usually signaled one thing—a confession. The guy looked like your typical popular kid—casual confidence in every step, the kind of face that belonged on magazine covers, and an aura that seemed to pull people in without effort. His uniform was crisp, his hair effortlessly styled, and he had that easy smile that made him seem like he owned the room. You could tell he was used to the attention; students whispered his name as he moved, clearly impressed.

.Just as he reached the doorway, the tall girl gently guided Haruna forward, positioning her directly in front of him. Haruna took a small step forward, her cheeks faintly pink as she fumbled with a small bag in her hands. It was a homemade gift bag, the kind tied with a little ribbon, and she clutched it tightly before extending it toward him, her fingers trembling slightly.

“I… I just wanted to say thanks…” Her voice was so soft that only the silence in the room made it possible for anyone to hear. “…for the other day…” Her words trailed off, her voice barely holding together as she looked away shyly, still holding out the bag of cookies.

The classroom lost it. Students gasped and cheered, nudging each other and whispering as if witnessing a scene straight out of a romance manga. The tension was palpable, as everyone waited to see how he would react.

Meanwhile, I was frozen in my seat, my thoughts racing. Who the hell is that guy? And why is he answering to my name? I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him with a look that could burn through steel, wishing I could make sense of this surreal scene unfolding in front of me.

The guy accepted the cookie with a casual “Thanks,” not sparing her a second glance before he turned and walked back to his seat as if this was just another routine part of his day. The classroom burst into a frenzy—whispers, giggles, and even a few shouts rippling through the room. Some students leaned in to each other, eyes wide, murmuring about how he’d just “rejected” her. A few were even laughing.

I noticed Haruna standing there, her hand still slightly raised, like she’d meant to say something more. Her expression faltered, a quiet disappointment settling in her eyes. It was clear to me that handing him that bag hadn’t been easy for her; she’d probably spent hours building up the courage, only to be brushed off without a second thought. I could feel something stir in me, an irritation that grew the longer I watched her standing there, vulnerable and ignored.

The tall girl beside Haruna seemed flustered, her hand reaching out to stop the guy from walking away, but the classroom was already a mess, voices growing louder by the second. Realizing it was a lost cause, she gently grabbed Haruna’s shoulder, pulling her away from the scene. They left quickly, disappearing down the hallway before anyone else could throw out more comments. But the image of Haruna’s disappointed face lingered, and it gnawed at me, harder than I wanted to admit.

Just as I was about to go up and confront this guy who’d so casually brushed Haruna off, he looked up, noticing me hovering there. He raised an eyebrow, giving me a mildly irritated look. “Can I help you?” he asked, his tone as indifferent as his expression.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay calm. “What’s your deal with Haruna?” I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

He just blinked, looking genuinely confused. “Nothing,” he said flatly, not even bothering to elaborate.

Before I could ask anything else, the teacher walked in, telling everyone to get to their seats. The whispers and gossip were still buzzing around the room, and just as I sat down, I heard more students speculating on the whole “confession” scene. My mind kept drifting back to Haruna’s disappointed face, and no matter how much I tried to push it out of my head, it lingered.

When lunchtime finally rolled around, the chatter hadn’t died down. People were still talking about what had happened that morning, and I was itching to talk to this guy, but there were too many people around him, and I didn’t want to make a scene. So I slipped out of the classroom, heading up to the rooftop to clear my head.

As I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes to shut out the noise of the day, I suddenly heard a voice. “Boss!”

I flinched, opening my eyes to see Subaru standing there, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

I rolled my eyes and ignored him, hoping he’d get the hint and leave. But Subaru wasn’t the type to take a hint.

“So,” he began, clearly unbothered by my silence. “Did you see what happened with Haruna this morning?”

I grunted in response, still refusing to acknowledge him.

Subaru continued undeterred. “I guess all girls like Yuuki, huh? Even Haruna.”

One of my eyes cracked open. “What do you mean?”

He looked back at me, repeating, “Oh, I just said all girls like Yuuki. Even Haruna.”

I stared at him, completely lost. “I’m Yuki.”

Subaru blinked, silent for a moment as he stared at me. Then, slowly, a look of understanding dawned on his face. “Ohhhhhhhhhh, I see what’s happening here! He’s Yuuki,” he said, stretching out the “u” with exaggerated emphasis, “and you’re Yuki.”

I sat up, narrowing my eyes. “So, let me get this straight. This guy’s name is… Yuuki?”

Subaru nodded, barely holding back a laugh. “Yep! With two ‘u’s. Guess you’re not the only Yuki around here, Boss.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing my temples. This whole situation just got a lot more annoying.

I took a deep breath, feeling a bit of relief wash over me. Of course—it must’ve been a misunderstanding. I wasn’t the only “Yuki” here. For the first time that day, I felt my shoulders relax a bit.

“So, tell me more about this Yuuki,” I asked, glancing over at Subaru.

Subaru scratched the back of his head and shrugged. “Oh, he’s just… you know, that typical popular guy. Girls love him, teachers think he’s a great student—he’s always helping people out. Looks like he just walked out of a magazine or something,” Subaru said, rolling his eyes. “But, uh, don’t get me wrong—he’s got nothing on you, Boss. You’re... uh... you know, way more, uh… interesting?”

I rolled my eyes, ignoring Subaru’s awkward attempt at a compliment. My mind drifted back to the scene this morning, and I couldn’t help but feel a slight smile tug at the corner of my mouth. So it was all just a misunderstanding. Haruna wasn’t… confessing to someone else. That reassurance settled in as I looked up at the sky, feeling a strange sense of calm.

I stood up without saying a word, brushing myself off. Subaru didn’t seem to notice right away and kept rambling.

“I mean, who needs a guy like Yuuki when they’ve got you, right, Boss? You’ve got, uh… personality! And that mysterious thing going on! Girls totally go for that,” he said, his voice trailing off as I walked away.

He finally noticed I was leaving and called after me. “Boss? Hey, where are you—? Oh, okay, you’re just walking off. That’s fine. I’ll just... keep talking to myself then.”

I didn’t respond. Lunch was still going, and I had a better shot of catching Haruna alone now. No point wasting time. I headed straight for the nurse’s office, my mind already racing with what I’d say when I saw her.

I peeked into the nurse's office, my heart pounding for reasons I didn’t fully understand. Haruna was there, seated at the desk near the window, alone as usual. The light spilling through the blinds illuminated her, giving her a calm, almost serene presence. For a moment, I froze.

Alright, Yuki, get it together. I wasn’t sure why I was hesitating so much. I’d faced down angry debtors, yakuza bosses, and literal fights for my life, but somehow walking into this room felt infinitely more daunting. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. It’s just Haruna. Just talk to her.

I took a deep breath, psyching myself up. Okay. One step at a time. You’ve got this.

I opened the door and stepped inside, but the words I had so carefully rehearsed in my head vanished the moment I saw her. Haruna jolted slightly, startled by the sound of the door opening. “Who’s there?” she asked, her voice steady but with a faint edge of surprise.

“It’s… me,” I managed to croak, my throat suddenly dry.

Haruna tilted her head toward the sound of my voice, her expression softening a little. “Oh, do you need something?”

I was about to answer when my eyes landed on her desk. She was eating lunch. A neat little bento box sat open in front of her, chopsticks poised delicately in her hand. I hadn’t expected this. My brain stalled, unable to decide if I should apologize for interrupting or just leave.

Haruna must have sensed my hesitation because she said, “Is something wrong?”

“No—uh, I mean, I didn’t know you were eating,” I blurted out, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. “Sorry for barging in.”

“It’s alright,” she said with a small smile, setting her chopsticks down. “I don’t usually get visitors during lunch. What’s on your mind?”

What’s on my mind? Everything. Absolutely everything. But none of it seemed like the right thing to say. I stood there like an idiot, trying to piece together some coherent response.

Instead, I stammered, “I, uh… I just wanted to… check on you.”

Haruna tilted her head slightly, as if trying to gauge my tone. “Check on me? That’s… thoughtful of you.”

I nodded dumbly, kicking myself internally. This wasn’t going the way I’d planned—not that I’d had much of a plan to begin with.

“Do you want to sit?” she offered, gesturing to the chair near her desk.

“Oh, uh, sure,” I muttered, pulling out the chair and sitting down. My movements felt clunky, like I didn’t belong here.

Haruna picked up her chopsticks again but paused, her expression thoughtful. “So… Do I know you?”

My heart skipped a beat.

“I, uh… maybe,” I said, trying to sound casual. “It’s a small school, right?”

She chuckled softly. “I suppose. Well, whoever you are, it’s nice to have someone stop by.”

I felt a pang of guilt at her words. She didn’t know who I was—at least, not yet. But something about the way she smiled, the way she spoke, made me think that maybe she wouldn’t mind knowing. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. Not yet.

Instead, I just said, “Yeah… it’s nice to stop by.”

I cleared my throat, trying to find the right way to start. “So, uh… about this morning,” I began, keeping my tone as casual as possible, even though my heart was hammering like crazy.

Haruna paused mid-bite, her chopsticks hovering over her bento. “This morning?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yeah,” I said, leaning back a bit. “You know, the whole… cookies thing.” I hesitated for a second, then decided to just come clean. “I’m Yuki. Like, the Yuki you were looking for.”

Her reaction was immediate. She froze for a second, then quickly set her chopsticks down. Her face turned a bright shade of red as she stammered, “Oh! I—um—I didn’t realize—”

I couldn’t help but smile as I watched her struggle to compose herself, clearly caught off guard. She straightened her back, clasped her hands together in her lap, and tried to speak again, though her face only turned redder.

“Well, nice to meet you,” she said with forced calm, though her voice cracked a little.

Her attempt to act normal made me chuckle, though I wasn’t doing much better myself. My palms were sweaty, and I was sure my ears were just as red as hers. “Yeah, nice to meet you too… again.”

Haruna managed a small, awkward laugh, but her blush deepened. “I—I didn’t realize it was you,” she said quietly, almost like she was trying to apologize without actually saying the words.

I leaned forward slightly, still smiling. “Don’t worry about it. But, uh… you know there’s another Yuuki in our class, right?”

At that, Haruna’s entire expression shifted. Her lips parted slightly, and her face suddenly looked like she’d just realized she’d dropped her phone in water. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her hands flying up to her cheeks. “Did I… Did I give it to the wrong guy?”

I nodded, trying to stifle my laughter. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

Her hands dropped as she gasped. “I’m so sorry!” she blurted, cutting me off before I could say anything more. “I didn’t know! I thought he was you! I didn’t mean to—oh my god, this is so embarrassing!”

The words came tumbling out of her mouth so quickly that I didn’t have a chance to respond. All I could do was sit there, watching her unravel, her face growing redder by the second. But, weirdly enough, I felt… happy. Relaxed, even. Seeing her like this made me forget about everything else.

Haruna kept rambling. “I can’t believe I just handed cookies to some random guy! And not just any guy, but—”

“Yeah,” I cut in gently, trying to keep her from spiraling too far. “I mean, Yuuki’s not exactly a ‘random guy.’ He’s, you know… popular.”

Haruna winced. “He’s also… intimidating.”

I tilted my head, confused. “Intimidating? How?”

She hesitated for a moment before blurting out, “ I heard he’s like a yakuza!”

I froze, my smile dropping as her words hit me like a brick. My face went blank, and for a second, all I could do was stare at her.

Haruna must have noticed the silence because she quickly added, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that! I mean, he just has… that kind of vibe, you know?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I looked at her, completely dumbfounded. Out of all the things she could have said, that was the last thing I expected.

I forced a smile, trying to play it off. “Yeah… I know, right?” My voice came out steadier than I expected, but inside, something twisted uncomfortably.

The words hung in the air longer than they should have, and I could feel the weight of them settle over me. I thought about what she said—how Yuuki had the vibe of a yakuza. It should’ve been funny, a harmless joke. But it wasn’t. Because I wasn’t just someone with the “vibe.” I was a yakuza. No matter how much I wanted to believe otherwise, no matter how much I tried to fit into this school life, that was who I was.

Suddenly, the room felt smaller, quieter. I thought back to the moments leading up to this—walking to the nurse’s office, the small hope I had of clearing the air, of maybe connecting with Haruna in a way that felt real. But now? Now it felt like that hope was slipping through my fingers, replaced by a stark reminder of who I really was. It was too good to be true, wasn’t it?

Haruna, oblivious to my spiraling thoughts, tilted her head slightly. “You okay?” she asked softly, her voice breaking through the fog in my mind.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing the same strained smile back onto my face. “Just… curious. So, uh…” I scratched the back of my head, trying to think of something to ask, anything to keep the conversation going. “How did you even end up baking cookies? It doesn’t seem like your thing.”

She laughed, a soft, embarrassed sound. “Well, it’s not, really. But… I wanted to thank you. I mean, I thought it was you,” she added quickly, her cheeks coloring again. “You helped me a lot that day, so… I figured I’d try.”

Her words should’ve felt good, reassuring even. But instead, they felt distant, like I was listening to someone through a thick wall. I nodded along, asking another question without really thinking. “So, what’s it like working in the nurse’s office all the time? You must meet a lot of interesting people.”

Haruna smiled, her expression relaxing as she thought about it. “I do. Everyone has their own little stories. It’s kind of nice, actually. People talk to me like I’m… normal.”

Her words tugged at something deep inside me, but I pushed it down, nodding again. “That’s… good. Really good.”

I kept asking questions, one after another, keeping the conversation alive. But with each one, I felt it more and more—this strange emptiness growing inside me. It wasn’t her fault. Haruna was kind, genuine, even when she was flustered. But the more I talked, the more I realized how different our worlds were.

Every time she smiled, every time she talked about her life with this quiet optimism, it only made me feel the weight of my own reality. The blood, the debts, the violence—it was all there, lingering in the background like a shadow I couldn’t escape. And here I was, pretending to be someone I wasn’t, someone who could actually belong in her world.

For a moment, I almost envied Yuuki. He wasn’t pretending. He wasn’t lying to himself. He could take the cookies and go back to his seat, and it would’ve been a normal day for him. But for me? Nothing about this was normal.

“Yuuki?” Haruna’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I blinked, realizing she was looking in my direction—or at least trying to, in her own way. “You’re quiet all of a sudden. Did I say something wrong?”

I shook my head quickly, forcing myself to snap out of it. “No, not at all. Just… thinking.”

She smiled softly, her blush fading. “You think a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, looking down at my hands. “Guess I do.”

The room fell into a brief silence, and for a moment, I felt like I was standing on the edge of something. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to say everything that was on my mind—the truth about me, about this whole mess. But I couldn’t. Not here. Not now. Never…

So instead, I smiled faintly, masking the emptiness that had crept in. “Anyway,” I said, standing up. “Thanks for the talk. I’ll… see you around.”

“Yuuki…?”

I glanced back, surprised. She was fidgeting with her hands, her face a shade redder than before. She seemed to be searching for the right words, and I could tell this wasn’t something she did often—or ever.

“What’s up?” I asked, keeping my tone light, though my curiosity was piqued.

“I-I was just wondering…” she started, her words stumbling over themselves. She took a deep breath, mustering up whatever courage she had left. “If… I could… maybe… get your phone number?”

Her words came out all at once, rushed and barely above a whisper. She ducked her head slightly, her hands gripping the edge of the counter in front of her like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

I blinked, caught completely off guard. Of all the things I thought she might say, that wasn’t even on the list. For a moment, I just stared at her, trying to process it. Then, I noticed how much effort she was putting into this—how her knuckles were turning white from clutching the counter, how her face was practically glowing with embarrassment.

She really was trying.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, recovering quickly. I gave her a small smile, deciding it was best to just play along. After all, she thought I was Yuuki. It wasn’t like she was asking me, not really.

Haruna hesitated for a moment before reaching out, holding her own phone toward me. Her fingers brushed mine briefly as I took it, and she quickly pulled her hand back, flustered. I entered my number, keeping my expression neutral despite the strange mix of emotions swirling inside me.

“There,” I said, handing it back to her. “All set.”

Haruna took her phone like it was something fragile, her blush deepening as she nodded. “Thank you,” she said softly, not quite meeting my eyes.

“No problem,” I replied, shoving my hands into my pockets as I stepped toward the door.

“Yuuki?” she called out just as I reached the doorway. Her voice was quieter this time, almost hesitant.

I glanced over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then seemed to change her mind. Instead, she just smiled faintly, her blush still lingering. “I’ll see you around?.”

I nodded once, “yeah” and walked out, my thoughts a tangled mess. Exchanging numbers wasn’t a big deal, not really. But the way she’d asked, the effort it took her—it felt like more than just a casual thing. And yet, I’d given her my number while pretending to be someone else.

A faint pang of guilt tugged at me, but I shook it off. It was better this way, I told myself. It wasn’t like we were going to be texting each other every day. This was just… playing along.

As I made my way back through the halls, I couldn’t help but replay the moment in my head.

For a moment, I let myself wonder what it would be like to really be Yuuki—the guy she thought she was talking to. But as quickly as the thought came, I pushed it away, shoving my phone into my pocket.

There was no point in pretending that could ever be my reality.

As I walked further away from the nurse’s office, I couldn’t help but wonder if the distance I felt was something I’d ever be able to close—or if it was just another reminder that I was always going to be on the outside looking in.