The Passionate Ones, Pt. 2

The name of Lesson Three felt very on the nose.

‘Being a Good Listener.’

As usual, the class cleared out for them. This time, Hina led the student charge, but not before making a smug face as she left the room.

Now that Hayami thought about it, it’d be easy to make all sorts of assumptions about what goes on between them during this no-contact period. Wait…

“People love it when you pay attention,” Akira lectured, pacing the room. “It triggers a dopamine response. Makes them feel valued, first of all; makes them associate being near you with feeling good.”

He stopped, pinning her with a look.

“But the balancing act is knowing the difference between being a listener and being a kiss-ass. Kiss-asses are desperate. You want to be a mirror, not a doormat. You want to have them crave the validation only you can give.”

He took a sharp breath, checking his watch again.

“To do that, you need to observe. Watch the hands. Watch the eyes. Listen to what they don’t say.”

Hayami swallowed hard. She watched him. She watched his finger tap a manic rhythm against his thigh.

“C-Can I…” she stammered, raising a hand. “Can I practice on you? Before I have to do it for real?”

Akira blinked. “Now?”

“I just… I don’t want to mess it up and screw up any chances of forming new friends.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “You said to observe, right?”

“Er… hm. Sure.”

Hayami leaned forward. She squinted, trying to focus, but she was so nervous about "reading" him correctly that she forgot to maintain personal space.

“You’re… um… you’re tapping,” she observed.

“I’m just an active person. Or it’s my undiagnosed ADHD. One of the two.”

“No.” Hayami shook her head. “It’s… it’s the same tap I do. W-When I’m thinking too much about something.”

Akira’s finger froze mid-tap.

She stood up, her legs shaking a little. She remembered his instruction: ‘Watch the eyes.’

She leaned in closer, peering up at his face. For most people, it’d be too close for comfort.

But Akira was an expert at suppressing emotion. This was pushing him to his limits.

“Your concealer c-can’t cover up h-how dry your eyes look, you know.”

Akira stared down at her. She was trembling—he could see her eyelashes fluttering—but she wasn't looking away. She was forcing herself to look at him because he told her to.

“Damn,” he said, his voice rough. “I thought I had enough eyedrops.”

He felt a strange, sinful pull to lean in. To rest his forehead against hers despite all rhyme and reason, because for years he had been drowning in a sea of eyes that only saw the Star—some caricature version of himself—but she saw him for all he was, a man lost under the cloudy night of a godless city.

He lowered his voice. “You… you think you have me figured out?”

“I’m t-trying,” she whispered, her face flushing red as she realized how close they were. “So, uh, a-am I doing it right? Are you feeling valued? Oh my god, I sound like a blithering idiot…”

For Akira, her blatant nerdiness made it so much worse.

“I…” he started, his voice cracking. “To be honest… this week has been…”

He found himself leaning down. She was right there.

“It’s Veronica,” he murmured.

Then he froze.

The fact that he uttered that name out loud, when they both agreed not to speak about her further, was a splash of ice-cold water.

Akira would have hated to do the ice bucket challenge.

He saw Hayami’s lips part in surprise.

‘What am I doing?’

He was starting to realize how close he was. He jerked back as if he’d been burned.

The chair screeched against the floor as he stood up, putting a solid three feet of distance between them.

“That may be adequate…” He cleared his throat loudly. “Well, no, it was adequate technique.”

“I did the opposite of making you feel valued around me, though.”

“No!” Akira snapped, too quickly. His hands shook a little as he adjusted his blazer. “You simply… established a baseline of trust and exploited it. It was effective.”

He couldn't look at her. If he looked at her, he might say something stupid.

“We’re done for today,” he said.

He turned to the door.

“Akira, I-I know that you’re deflecting.”

He stopped, his hand on the handle. He let out a defeated sigh.

“I’m getting that easy to tell, huh?”

“You are one h-hypocritical… loser.”

Akira turned around. She was trembling again, the moment of bravery flickering, but she didn’t back down. She looked like she was about to cry, or scream, or both.

“I need a s-straight answer from you,” she stammered, gripping the edge of her desk until her knuckles turned white. “Do you l-like me, or n-not? Because this… this back and forth… it isn’t normal. I-It’s not fair.”

“I do.”

He said it so suddenly, the word hung in the air like a dropped weight.

“Obviously.”

Hayami blinked, her mouth falling open.

Akira was undeterred. “I broke into your house. I wore a maid’s outfit. I am currently jeopardizing a multi-million dollar contract to teach you how to make friends. So, of course I do.”

Hayami stared at him. A flushed, incredulous laugh bubbled up in her chest.

“Into g-girls which can’t s-string a coherent sentence together, huh? Y-You like the f-feeling of power that gives you.”

A corner of his mouth ticked up.

“Duh.” He stepped back toward her. “Why become an Idol if not for the feeling of people worshipping the ground you walk on?”

“...I h-hate boys.”

“Even me?”

“Especially you.”

The tension in the room was electric. It was perfect. Both felt the warmness of their bodies nearer, closer to each other, and how intoxicating the feeling got when they didn’t think so much and just surrendered—

BZZZT.

Her phone buzzed violently against the wooden desk, shattering the moment like glass.

Hayami flinched. She slapped her hand over the screen instantly, but not before Akira saw the preview.

UNCLE KENJI: (Image Attachment) Nice view from the window. Watering your plants but with benefits!

He looked at her phone. He looked at her.

“You w-wanted to run away,” she whispered, her voice hollow.

Akira looked up. “What?”

“Your tapping. The way you look at the door.” Hayami gave him a wobbly smile, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I’ve played enough gacha games to know the ‘Run Away from the Arranged Marriage’ trope when I see it. You have a Princess waiting in the castle, and you hate it.”

“You’re half right,” he murmured. “There is a Princess. But she’s not the one I want.”

Hayami looked at him. She heard the words, but the fear from the text message twisted them into something else. If she’s not the one you want... then I’m just the distraction.

“Then what do you w-want?!”

Hayami trembled, the shout tearing out of her throat. Akira’s eyes widened.

“I-I am tired of y-you not being honest with me! Why did you come to my school s-so suddenly in the first place? To get away, is that it? Just s-so you are no longer bored anymore, so you can use me h-however you please? And the s-second your time is up, you’ll already have had your fun while I just sit here and waste away, huh?!”

“I stayed because of you.”

Hayami’s heart stopped as soon as those words left Akira’s mouth.

“I wanted a change, I felt trapped, and the second I saw you, I thought you’d be an outlet. That’s still true. However, you are my outlet. Unfortunately, my heart knew if I gave you away, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”

He looked at the door. Then he looked at the phone she was hiding.

He couldn't fix her Uncle problem without exposing himself. He couldn't fix his Veronica problem without ruining his career.

“Hayami... I cannot give you what you deserve. It’s not a fair deal at all. It will be messy.”

“I can make messy work.”

Akira couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“People pretend that w-we can always fix mistakes later,” she said, her voice shaking but gaining strength. “That we have all the time in the world. But we don’t. You can’t un-waste time, Akira. It’s cruel, y-you know, to tell people they have forever when they d-don’t. That’s just a story we tell o-ourselves... so we don’t feel bad about wasting our lives. And I don’t want to waste anymore.”

She looked up at him.

“In t-this time left together… let’s just take what we can get.”

Akira stared at her.

“After all…” she continued. “I am cursed.”

He had spent weeks thinking she was a delicate flower that needed a greenhouse. He was wrong.

“Wow. You can be scary when you want to be.” Akira smiled. “But I don’t think I mind you being bad for me. In fact... I think I'm ready to continue on with the lesson.”

He slammed his hand down on Hayami’s desk, making her jump.

“For this assessment, I’m going to show you precisely why it’s bad for good girls to follow in a bad boy’s footsteps.”

He leaned in. And if Hayami thought he was doing what she thought he was doing, then—then…!

“W-W-W-Wait!”

“Sorry, love?”

“I’ve… eh… never kissed before. It’s a bit e-early to be d-doing this right?”

“Early? Maybe.”

He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. The touch sent a jolt of electricity down her spine.

“But if this is going to end in flames, Hayami… I intend to set the standard so high that every man who comes after me will feel like a disappointment.”

Hayami’s breath hitched. “Akira, t-that’s—”

He didn't give her time to argue. He closed the gap.

Almost.

“Hayami…”

She fluttered her eyes open.

Akira had stopped. He was hovering inches away, his eyes squeezed shut as if in pain. He pulled back.

“I won't kiss you,” he whispered. “Because I know a kiss from me will ruin your life.”

“S-So… arrogant,” she breathed. “To think that your kiss will have that effect on m-me.”

He smiled.

“I know it will.”

ASSESSMENT THREE: BEING A GOOD LISTENER

CLEARED!