Chapter 9 – “Jealousy Blooms”

It started as an ordinary afternoon.

The sun hung low over the school courtyard, painting everything gold. Riko stretched after practice, sweat glistening on her neck. “Finally done!” she groaned. “I’m starving.”

Mina yawned beside her. “You’re always starving.”

“Hey, I burned calories, okay?” Riko shot back with a grin, tossing her towel over her shoulder. “I deserve—”

She froze mid-sentence.

Across the courtyard, Daichi was carrying a stack of cardboard boxes — with someone else.

The girl beside him, cheerful and petite, wore the art club badge on her arm. Her long brown hair swung as she laughed at something Daichi said. He smiled back, scratching his cheek sheepishly.

Riko blinked. He’s helping her?

She’d never seen him smile like that outside of teasing her.

“Riko?” Mina tilted her head. “You okay?”

“Huh? Y-Yeah!” Riko laughed too loudly, waving her hands. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Mina’s eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh. Then why are you staring like you’re about to tackle someone?”

“I am not!” Riko puffed her cheeks, turning away. “He’s just… being helpful. That’s all. Totally normal Daichi stuff.”

But her chest tightened anyway.

Daichi reached for another box, brushing fingers with the art club girl. They both laughed again.

Something twisted deep inside Riko’s stomach.

Why does it feel like that? Like… I just lost a point in a game I didn’t know I was playing?

---

Later, as they walked home, Riko dragged her feet. Mina chewed her lollipop and glanced sideways.

“You’re quiet today,” she said.

“I’m not,” Riko muttered.

“Liar. You’re doing that thing where you kick rocks when you’re upset.”

“I just—” Riko kicked another pebble. “He was smiling with her. That’s all.”

Mina smirked. “You sound jealous.”

Riko tripped on her own foot. “J-Jealous? Don’t be ridiculous!”

Mina shrugged. “If you say so. But the last time you made that face was when Daichi picked a different teammate for dodgeball.”

“That’s completely different!”

“Is it?”

Riko glared, but Mina just smiled knowingly.

They walked in silence for a moment. The evening breeze played with Riko’s hair, and the ache in her chest grew heavier.

“...She looked nice,” Riko admitted softly. “That girl from art club.”

Mina raised an eyebrow. “Nice?”

“Yeah. Pretty. Girly. The kind of girl guys actually notice.”

Mina stopped walking. “You know, for someone who can sprint faster than half the track team, you’re incredibly slow sometimes.”

Riko frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mina sighed dramatically. “You like him, Riko. Like like him.”

Riko opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out.

Her heartbeat thundered. Images flashed in her mind — Daichi’s grin, his voice calling her “Riko-bro,” the warmth of his hand when he bandaged her wrist.

“...Do I?” she whispered.

Mina smiled gently. “You just don’t wanna admit it. But it’s written all over your face.”

Riko looked down at her shoes, cheeks burning. “But he doesn’t see me that way.”

“Then make him,” Mina said, poking her shoulder. “You’re Riko Tachibana — the girl who never loses. So don’t lose to some art club smile.”

Riko blinked. Then, slowly, a small grin returned to her lips.

“You’re right,” she said, pumping her fist. “I won’t lose. I’ll just… I’ll show him I’m not just ‘Riko-bro.’”

Mina smirked. “That’s my girl.”

They walked off toward the setting sun — one smirking, the other pretending her heart wasn’t racing.

Behind them, the sky burned orange and pink, and for the first time, Riko realized that the warmth in her chest wasn’t from running or training.

It was from him.