Chapter 23 – “Avoidance Game”

The gossip didn’t die down.

If anything, it evolved — like some invasive species that thrived on teenage chaos.

Every hallway, every classroom, every group chat still buzzed with one name: Riko Tanabe and Daichi Hoshino.

At first, Riko thought she could laugh it off. The stage kiss was just a performance. Everyone would eventually forget.

But they didn’t.

And worse — Daichi started acting weird.

---

He didn’t greet her that morning.

He didn’t even look her way during homeroom.

Usually, he’d lean over her desk and annoy her with something stupid like, “You forgot your notebook again?” or “Hey, you’ve got crumbs on your face.”

Today?

Nothing. Silence. Like she didn’t exist.

Riko frowned. Maybe he was tired? Maybe soccer practice was killing him again?

But when she called out softly, “Daichi—” during break time, he literally turned the other way and started talking to Rei.

Riko blinked, confused. “Wait… did he just—ignore me?”

---

By lunch, the situation had gone from confusing to infuriating.

She spotted him walking down the hall and waved hesitantly.

He froze mid-step… then quickly ducked behind a group of students and slipped into a random classroom.

“Did he just dodge me?” she whispered.

Beside her, Mina was munching on chips, amused. “Oh, totally. You two are playing the classic ‘I-like-you-but-I-can’t-handle-it’ game.”

“Excuse me?! We’re not playing anything!”

Mina smirked. “Denial. Step one complete.”

“MINA!”

---

The next day, it got worse.

Riko walked toward her locker — and just as she spotted Daichi approaching from the opposite direction, their eyes met for a single, electrifying second.

Then he panicked.

He pretended to check his phone, spun around, and started walking the other way — fast.

Riko stood frozen for a moment, jaw hanging open.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, “he’s avoiding me.”

“Again?” Mina said from behind her, sipping on bubble tea. “Adorable.”

“It’s not adorable! It’s rude!”

“Well, maybe he’s shy.”

“Daichi? Shy? The same guy who stole my first stage kiss in front of the entire school?!”

Mina shrugged. “Love changes people.”

Riko covered her face. “I hate this.”

---

Over the next few days, it became a running joke among their friends.

If Riko entered the cafeteria, Daichi would suddenly “remember” he left his wallet in the classroom.

If they were assigned the same cleaning duty, he’d trade shifts with someone else before she even showed up.

If they accidentally met eyes — boom — instant avoidance maneuver.

She tried to act like she didn’t care, but every time he walked away, her chest tightened a little more.

---

One afternoon, she found herself alone in the gym storage room, rummaging for cones for soccer practice. She turned around — and nearly screamed.

Daichi stood there, frozen like a deer caught in headlights, holding a soccer ball.

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

For a moment, neither moved. The air was painfully awkward.

Then, as if powered by pure instinct, Daichi mumbled, “Sorry,” and tried to sidestep past her.

“Oh no you don’t!” Riko blocked the door, crossing her arms. “You’ve been avoiding me all week, Hoshino!”

He rubbed his neck, looking everywhere but at her. “I… wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Then what do you call running away every time I show up?”

He sighed. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?!”

He hesitated, then muttered, “It’s… complicated.”

Riko blinked. “Complicated? We’re not even dating!”

That seemed to sting him more than she expected. His eyes flickered, but he quickly masked it with a forced grin. “Exactly. So it’s fine.”

He slipped past her before she could say anything more.

When the door shut behind him, Riko just stood there, gripping the soccer cones tightly.

“…It doesn’t feel fine.”

---

That evening, while walking home with Mina, Riko kicked a pebble down the sidewalk.

“He won’t even look at me,” she said quietly. “It’s like we went from best friends to total strangers overnight.”

Mina tilted her head. “Maybe he’s embarrassed.”

“About what?”

“You, dummy. That kiss. The rumors. His own feelings.”

Riko blushed instantly. “Wh-What feelings?!”

Mina grinned knowingly. “If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be acting like a lovesick ninja.”

Riko glared, but her chest fluttered. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” Mina said sing-song. “Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not—!”

Her words trailed off. The sky above was soft orange, the kind of sunset that made everything feel more dramatic than it should.

She thought of Daichi’s awkward smile. His stupid hair that always fell into his eyes. The warmth of his hand during that scene.

And how now, that same hand was always out of reach.

---

The next morning, she decided to ignore him back.

If he wanted space, fine. She’d give him miles of it.

But her brilliant plan failed within minutes.

She bumped into him by the shoe lockers — literally shoulder to chest — and they both froze again.

His scent — soap, grass, and something warm — hit her like a memory.

He mumbled a quiet, “Sorry,” before quickly stepping aside.

She could feel her heartbeat in her ears.

He didn’t look back.

And somehow, that hurt the most.

---

At lunch, Rei joined her table, smirking. “You and Daichi having a lover’s quarrel?”

Riko choked on her rice. “Wh-what?! No!”

He chuckled softly. “You’re so easy to read. He’s been moody too, you know.”

She frowned. “Moody how?”

“Quiet. Distracted. Keeps checking his phone like he’s waiting for someone to text.”

Her heart skipped. “He… does?”

Rei leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You could just talk to him.”

“I tried! He runs away!”

“Then chase him,” Rei said with a smirk. “That’s what I’d do if it were you.”

Riko’s face burned red as Mina laughed from across the table. “Ooooh, two boys and one Riko—love triangle unlocked!”

“MINA!”

---

That night, lying in bed, Riko scrolled through her messages. There was an unread one from Daichi from a few days ago — a simple, “Good job on stage. You were amazing.”

She hadn’t replied.

Now she wished she had.

She turned off her phone, curled into her blanket, and whispered to the dark.

> “Why does it hurt… when he looks away?”