Operation: Survive the Not-a-Date

I didn’t plan to hide in the girls’ bathroom after class. It just… happened.

The tiles are cold, the air smells like soap and detergent, and my brain has decided flight is the only option.

One moment, the final chime rang; the next, I panicked and blurted, “Ah—sorry! I need to run to the bathroom!”

Louis smiled, calm as ever. “I’ll wait for you at the gate. No worries.”

And then I left. Which brings us to now—me, sitting on a toilet lid with my knees pulled up, hiding like a criminal.

My legs stick to the cool porcelain, every muscle tense like I might get caught for existing.

The fluorescent light hums overhead. Someone’s perfume lingers faintly in the air—sweet and artificial.

I check my phone. It’s been… I don’t even know. Long enough that my guilt makes me sweat.

He’s probably gone.

I hug my bag tighter. “This is fine,” I tell myself. “Totally fine. People abandon plans all the time. It’s practically a social skill.”

Still, my stomach twists.

Why did I freak out? It’s not like he asked me on an actual date. He just wanted a tour—a normal, innocent, educational after-school outing.

Except no one’s heart rate hits emergency levels over a simple tour of the town.

I rest my forehead on my knees. “Why would he even want to hang out with someone like me?”

He’s new, that’s all. He doesn’t know anyone else yet. Once he realizes Mayumi and her personal galaxy exist, I’ll fade right back into background noise.

I saw them at lunch—Mayumi, radiant as usual; Friend A effortlessly cool; Friend B powered by pure solar energy. They were already orbiting him. He’s probably with them right now.

Meanwhile, here I am, crouched in a bathroom stall, hoping God will let me skip this event.

Classic Shizuka.

I breathe out, slow and shaky. He was nice, though. Too nice.

He never looked bored when I was talking, even when I mumbled my answers. He laughed softly, asked questions, actually listened.

And those eyes—blue, calm, like the summer sky.

I can still picture him from that first night at the shop—standing under the humming lights, mask on, voice quiet. The way he always smelled faintly like citrus and rain.

I slap both cheeks lightly. “Get it together, Shizuka.”

The sound echoes off the tiles.

The door creaks open.

Two girls step in, chatting as they fix their hair at the mirror.

“He’s still waiting by the gate,” one says. “The transfer student—Devereux, right?”

“Yeah. Wonder who’s standing him up.”

A pause. Then a small laugh.

My stomach twists. So he really is still there.

And now everyone knows it.

The door closes again, leaving only the hum of the lights.

Their perfume lingers after the door shuts—sharp and strong, like the guilt I’m feeling.

I breathe out. “Okay, universe. I get it.”

“You’ve been waiting forever for something—anything—to change,” I tell the air. “And now it has…”

I sigh, staring at the ceiling. “Are you really the hopeless otaku they think you are, or just someone waiting for reality to give you a reason not to be?”

No answer, of course. Just the hum of the lights.

I stand, grab my bag, and force myself out of the stall. My reflection in the mirror looks like it’s daring me to back out again.

“Too late,” I tell it. “You’ve already made him wait. At least go apologize before moving to Hokkaido.”

I swing my bag over my shoulder and bolt out of the bathroom before I can change my mind.

The hallway is empty, echoing, sunlight slanting through the windows.

My legs start moving faster than my brain.

“No running in the halls!” a teacher calls from somewhere down the corridor.

“Sorry!” I shout back, definitely still running.

I take the stairs two at a time and almost lose the battle with gravity on the last step. My bag swings forward and smacks me in the hip like it’s punishing me for poor life decisions.

By the time I reach the shoe lockers, I’m half-sweating, half-praying. My outside shoes are nowhere near cooperating—I jam one on backward, fix it, then almost trip again.

The door slides open and the late light spills in. The air hits my face, cool and bright. I stop for a second, catching my breath, heart thudding like it’s mocking me.

Okay. No more running.

I’m going to walk out there like a normal, composed human being.

…Right after I remember how to breathe.

Outside, the sun’s low and warm, painting everything gold.

He’s definitely gone by now. No one waits half an hour for someone like me.

Except—

When I reach the gate, he’s still there.

Louis Devereux, standing in the glow of sunset, one hand in his pocket, phone in the other.

He looks up the moment he hears my steps and smiles like waiting was the easiest thing in the world.

“There you are,” he says, as if it’s perfectly normal that I’ve been missing for thirty minutes. “Shall we?”

Just like that. No teasing, no irritation.

And suddenly, I can’t remember what I was so afraid of.

I nod, somehow managing words. “Y-Yeah. Sorry—I got a little lost in my head.”

He laughs softly. “Then it’s good I waited.”

The breeze brushes past us—warm and quiet.

My heart stumbles over itself.

We start walking. The air tastes like tangerine light and the end of something safe.

And I realize maybe, just maybe, I was hiding from the wrong thing all along.

Next Episode: The Perfect Shojo Date