No Date No Life - Part 2

Mira wasted no time dragging Ren along in their pretend date. The next stop was an old-themed café where she insisted on ordering a giant parfait, claiming it was essential for the classic “shared dessert” experience.

Ren watched in stunned silence as Mira enthusiastically devoured the parfait, spoonful after spoonful, barely stopping to breathe.

“Uh, tasty?” Ren asked, raising an eyebrow, more concerned about where all the calories were going—or maybe this was why she always had so much energy.

Mira finally paused, her cheeks stuffed with whipped cream and fruit. Realizing she’d eaten most of it, she glanced awkwardly at Ren, then at the half-empty parfait. After a moment of deliberation, she scooped up a spoonful and offered it to him.

“Uh, no thanks. I’m good,” Ren said, leaning back.

But Mira was insistent, practically shoving the spoon in his face.

She wants to share… from the same spoon?

“You have to eat, just like the manual says!” Mira declared after swallowing her mouthful.

“Fine, but you asked for it.” Ren closed his eyes and reluctantly accepted the spoonful. The parfait was surprisingly not too sweet apart from the fruits. Sugar didn't seem too common during this time. Yet, all he could think about was the fact that her saliva had been on the spoon. It tasted good. The parfait, of course…

The café patrons turned to glance curiously at them, and some even started sharing their own desserts.

When he glanced back at Mira, she was already digging in again, unfazed.

“How are you not even hesitating?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Mira replied through a mouthful of dessert.

“You know… the indirect kiss thing. Honestly, I don’t care, but I thought you might.” Ren feigned his slight embarrassment.

“Indirect kiss?” Mira paused mid-bite, the spoon dangling from her lips as she flipped through the manga. Her eyes widened as she reached the end of the scene where the characters shared a dessert and learned the concept of an indirect kiss.

The spoon clattered onto the table as realization struck her.

The next cliché Mira had lined up was a movie—or at least that’s what she called it. At some point, Ren realized he wasn’t just sitting next to Mira in the theater anymore. Instead, he felt like he’d been transported into the movie itself. The characters seemed so close he could almost touch them, the environment so immersive it felt like he was standing right there.

But even that futuristic marvel couldn’t distract him from the fact that the movie was an overly dramatic romantic bore.

“Look! They’re holding hands!” Mira whispered excitedly, nudging Ren.

Ren sighed. “What’s the running time for this?”

When the credits finally rolled, they lingered as some of the last people to leave the theater. But as they stepped into the dimly lit hallway, Mira suddenly stopped, a mischievous glint in her eye. She pointed at the wall beside them, then at Ren, then back at the wall again, as though expecting him to read her mind.

“…What are you doing?” Ren asked, already dreading the answer.

Mira didn’t say a word. Instead, she whipped out her manga manual and pointed emphatically at one of the panels. It depicted a classic wall press scene, with the male lead pinning the heroine against the wall.

“You’re kidding,” Ren deadpanned.

Mira only groaned and kept jabbing at the page like it was a sacred commandment.

“Honestly, you should start a new religion with that thing, the way you treat it like gospel,” Ren muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Fine.”

He stepped forward, placing his hands on either side of her shoulders and pressing her gently against the wall—or at least, trying to. His awkward attempt looked more like he was doing a bad impression of a mime.

“Do it properly,” Mira demanded, crossing her arms.

Ren tried adjusting his posture, but his embarrassment only made things worse. Somehow, he ended up standing even farther from her.

Mira sighed. “Here, let me try.”

Before Ren could react, she spun them around and attempted to replicate the manga panel herself. “According to the manual…” she began confidently—only to lose her balance.

She slipped and slammed Ren against the wall, their faces suddenly just inches apart. Her rapid breathing tickled his cheek as their wide eyes locked, neither of them daring to move.

The tension was palpable until a passing couple hurried by, one of them muttering, “Sorry for the intrusion!”

Ren snapped out of it, gently placing his hands on Mira’s shoulders and easing her away from him. “Your wall press needs some work.”

“Maybe a little.” Mira’s cheeks slightly flushed as she let out an awkward laugh.

***

The futuristic city seemed even more alive at night. Holograms and neon lights filled the streets, casting colorful reflections on the sleek, towering buildings. Yet, despite the dazzling artificial glow, the clear, glistening night sky was still visible—a surreal blending of nature and technology.

Infectious laughter echoed around them as Ren and Mira approached their final destination: a massive Ferris wheel overlooking the entire city. Ren’s unease grew with every step. Heights had always made him uncomfortable, but it wasn’t just the towering structure that was getting to him. He knew far too well how the Ferris wheel scene played out in the “Manual” Mira had been clutching all day.

“We’re here!” Mira announced with excitement.

“Unfortunately,” Ren muttered, craning his neck back far higher than he would’ve liked. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“What? No! We have to take our time and enjoy the view, just like they do in the Manual!” Mira insisted, practically glowing with enthusiasm. “Funny enough, I’ve lived in the city for a while, but I’ve never ridden this before!”

Her obliviousness to the Manga’s implications only made Ren more nervous. Not only did he have to deal with the height, but now the awkward tension brewing between them was starting to outweigh his fear.

As they boarded the Ferris wheel and began their ascent, Ren couldn’t help but be awestruck by the breathtaking view. The city stretched out beneath them in a kaleidoscope of lights and colors, making even the most hardened cynic pause. He glanced at Mira, who leaned forward eagerly, her face lit with pure, carefree excitement.

A subtle smile tugged at Ren’s lips. “Ignorance really is bliss,” he mumbled to himself.

“What do you mean?” Mira asked, tilting her head.

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on, tell me!”

Ren sighed. “According to your Manual, there’s a little more to Ferris wheels than just enjoying the view.”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” Mira flipped through the pages as the Ferris wheel paused at the very top. Her cheeks turned pink as she found the scene. “Wait… oh. Is this one of those moments?”

“Not what you were expecting, huh?” Ren scratched the back of his head, trying to defuse the situation.

Mira hesitated, her eyes darting nervously from the book to Ren. Then, she tightened her grip on the Manual, wrinkling the pages slightly. “Have you… ever kissed anyone before?”

Ren’s eyes widened as Mira leaned in, closing the small distance between them. What’s with this atmosphere again?! he panicked internally.

“This would be my first time,” Mira admitted softly, her voice barely audible.

Her breath tickled his face as their proximity grew, and Ren found himself unable to think clearly. Her scent was sweet, her lips unexpectedly mesmerizing, and his heart pounded as loudly as hers.

But just as their faces inched closer, the Ferris wheel jolted, resuming its slow descent. The sudden movement startled them both, snapping them out of the strange tension.

“K-Kissing… is overrated,” Ren finally blurted. Was that even an answer?

His mind flashed back to his fake relationship in high school—the closest he’d ever come to kissing someone—and how even that had felt hollow.

Mira leaned back, flustered and clearly more embarrassed with herself than anything else. “I guess… I still have a lot to learn about how love used to be,” she murmured, her voice shaky as she turned her gaze toward the dazzling cityscape.

When they finally stepped off the Ferris wheel, Ren was relieved to be back on solid ground. He told himself that Mira’s ridiculous schemes were to blame for the weird tension earlier and tried his best to convince himself that he was glad to leave it behind.

As they made their way out of the area, they stopped by a vending machine to wrap up their pretend date.

“Overall, I’d say today was a success!” Mira said with a confident nod, clutching the Manga. “I learned so much that I can apply now.” She glanced at Ren. “Although… I think I need to be a little more careful with this Manual.”

Ren scoffed, already browsing the vending machine. “I’m telling you, those cliché dates aren’t worth it.” He frowned at the options, most of which were cans of Green Joy. “Ugh. How can anyone drink this stuff?”

Nearby, a man in a sharp, minimalist suit grabbed a drink from another vending machine. He overheard Ren and chuckled. “Green Joy’s not for everyone. I don’t like the taste either.”

“I don’t understand why it’s so popular,” Mira chimed in.

“—Plus, I’m not a fan of the emotional regulation effects,” the man added casually.

Ren and Mira froze, exchanging a look of confusion and disbelief.

“The… what?” Ren turned toward the man.

The man looked at them as if they’d just asked if the sky was blue. “I mean, it’s not exactly a secret. It says so right on the can.”

Ren picked up a can of Green Joy, staring at it as if it were a bomb. Mira leaned in with the same expression.

The man pointed casually. “See? It’s right there in the fine print.”

Sure enough, it wasn’t even that fine compared to the sneaky disclaimers Ren remembered from his time. The label plainly stated that the drink “optimizes emotional stability and helps regulate strong emotions.”

Ren and Mira exchanged another look, the realization dawning on them both. The most popular drink in the city wasn’t just a drink—it was a tool for suppressing emotions.