(POV: Watanabe Mika)
The hallway of Sakura High’s first floor was pure chaos—but in that vibrant, school-festival kind of way. The walls were alive with colorful posters, big-ass banners hung from the ceiling beams, and students weaved through each other like a goddamn parade. Laughter echoed from both ends of the corridor, the golden afternoon sun washing in from the wide windows to paint everything in honey and heat.
Mika walked slowly through it all, perfectly composed, an island of stillness among the waves of noise. A soft breeze ruffled her long black hair, her skirt fluttering just slightly. Her eyes, pink and glassy, scanned the boards absently—until they landed on sothing she didn’t expect to feel anything about.
"Music Club Auditions: Find Your Rhythm! Join Us!"
Her brows twitched.
Music club?
Her fingers brushed the edge of the flyer. The smiling cartoon instrunts on the poster felt like they were mocking her.
"What a f***ing joke,"* she muttered.
A girl walking past gave her a startled glance at the sudden profanity from the usually quiet and elegant Mika. But Mika didn’t care. Her eyes didn’t move from the flyer.
"Music club is f***ing useless."*
Her voice was low, venomous.
"The only goddamn reason I even started playing piano was because of him."
And then it happened—that voice cut through the air like a knife made of glitter and giggles.
"Kokoro! Wanna go around the club booths with today?"
Sayori Kojima’s voice.
Mika turned slowly, her head chanically shifting toward the commotion just a few ters down the hallway.
There she was.
That flamboyant, chaos-incarnate gremlin—standing next to her Kokoro, shalessly inviting him to tour the club booths. Loud. Flashy. Zero subtlety.
Kokoro, bless his soul, looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a goddamn love-truck.
"W-What?" he stuttered.
"Co oooon~ It’ll be fun!"
"Uhh—o-okay...?"
Mika’s grip on her thermos tightened with a soft crack of plastic under pressure.
"You’ve gotta be f***ing kidding ."*
Without thinking, Mika lted into the flow of foot traffic, casually stalking the duo as they moved from booth to booth. Her presence was like a shadow—elegant, quiet... and simring with boiling resentnt.
---
She was halfway through glaring at Sayori’s bouncing twin-tails when a senior girl—tall, with bright orange highlights—noticed Mika peeking around a corner like so creepy horror movie extra.
"Uhh... hey? You good? You’ve been lurking like that for, like, ten minutes. Are you stalking soone, or—"
Mika turned her head slowly. Her smile was cold, empty.
"...Shut the hell up."
The senior girl blinked, laughed awkwardly, and wisely walked away.
---
Photography Club
Sayori posed like she was doing a damn magazine cover. Kokoro fumbled with the DSLR like he’d never touched a cara in his life.
"Do I look like an idol?" Sayori bead.
Kokoro stamred, "Y-Yeah... definitely..."
Mika’s inner thoughts:
You look like an overexposed ss. And he didn’t even adjust the f*ing ISO. Morons. The both of you.
---
Cooking Club
Sayori sared cream on Kokoro’s nose. Kokoro tried to wipe it with a napkin and only made it worse.
Mika nearly choked on her own spit watching it unfold.
"This is so lewd," Sayori giggled. "You’re a ss~"
Kokoro blushed, "It’s your fault—!"
Mika’s inner thoughts:
Oh, real mature. Next thing you know, you’ll be baking dmn wedding cakes together, huh?*
---
She paused near the vending machines, fuming, watching from behind a poster stand. Kokoro and Sayori were sharing drinks.
Sharing.
F***ing.
Drinks.
"This is hell," Mika muttered under her breath, face expressionless but her eye twitching like a faulty circuit.
"She’s a gremlin. A glittery, loud gremlin. Why the f* is she so damn close to him already?"**
She noticed Sayori leaning a little too far toward Kokoro.
If she breathes in his ear I swear in my na I will throw her off the roof.
---
Then it happened.
The mont that really broke her.
Kokoro spotted soone in the crowd.
That girl.
The pink-haired one from the grocery store.
Beautiful. Mature. Curvy. Effortlessly stunning.
Kokoro’s face lit up like a f***ing Christmas tree.
And the girl?
She smiled at him. Waved.
Waved.
Sayori did a full double-take, her expression twisting into hilarious cartoonish shock.
Mika?
She deadass almost snapped her thermos in half.
---
As she turned and slowly walked away from the crowd, her eyes hollow, her steps composed—
Inside, Mika was screaming.
But her face? Calm. Smiling.
Because now she had motivation.
"You bitches don’t know who you’re ssing with," she whispered to herself, her voice sweet as poisoned honey.
"It’s fine. I’ll wait. He’s mine. You’ll see."
________________________________________
Kokoro’s pencil danced across the paper like it had a mind of its own. Each stroke was confident, precise, brimming with detail. The page, once blank, was now alive with movent—an original character in dynamic action, filled with expression and soul. The surrounding club mbers of the ani and manga club were visibly impressed.
"Wow," muttered one of the senior mbers, a tall third-year with piercings and a surprisingly gentle tone. "You’re seriously amazing. This shading, this anatomy... Are you sure you’re not a professional?"
The pink-haired girl, glasses slightly fogged, leaned in beside Kokoro. She was watching him the whole ti. Her pink eyes glead with interest.
"That was beautiful," she whispered, her voice soft like wind chis. "You really have a gift."
Kokoro looked away, slightly red. "Ah, it’s nothing... I just practiced a lot."
Sayori stood behind him in silence.
Too silent.
Kokoro glanced at her.
She was staring at the drawing.
Not speaking.
Just... staring.
"Sayori?"
She blinked. Her expression was unreadable, her orange eyes wide.
"Ah..." She smiled. "Nothing. It’s nothing."
Weird. He tilted his head but decided not to push it.
One of the seniors leaned over the table. "Hey, that was insane. You ever considered joining our club officially? We’d love to have soone like you."
Kokoro scratched his cheek, bashfully. "Uh, sure. I’d like that."
A small cheer erupted among the nearby club mbers.
"Great! We’re actually finalizing the first-year roster tomorrow," another said. "You’ll co by again?"
"Definitely," Kokoro replied.
The pink-haired girl adjusted her glasses. "Let’s all get to know each other properly tomorrow. The official opening will be a good ti to start fresh."
Kokoro nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good."
The group continued chatting about art styles, genre preferences, favorite series, and even upcoming events. But eventually, Kokoro politely excused himself and stepped away from the booth.
Sayori followed him.
They walked in relative silence for a mont. The hallway was starting to thin out, most students either finishing their club tours or settling down for lunch.
Kokoro glanced at her. "Hey, want to eat now?"
Sayori didn’t answer imdiately.
She stopped.
Turned to him.
Her face... had changed.
Her usual teasing glint was replaced with sothing else. Sothing softer. Her cheeks were red.
"Your drawings," she said. "They match the sa style as my favorite author. The one behind the na... K.K. Raven."
Kokoro froze.
Sayori tilted her head, a tender smile blooming on her lips. "It’s you, isn’t it? You’re K.K. Raven."
Kokoro opened his mouth—but nothing ca out.
Sayori looked at him with eyes wide and sparkling, like a child eting her hero. Awe and admiration mixed with giddy joy.
"It’s okay," she whispered. "I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want to. But... I knew it. You’re amazing."
Kokoro hesitated for a long second, then let out a soft sigh and offered a crooked smile.
"...You got ."
The mont those words left his mouth, Sayori’s face lit up like a firework show on New Year’s Eve. Her eyes sparkled even brighter, glowing with a mix of triumph and uncontainable excitent.
"I knew it!! I KNEW IT!" she squealed, practically vibrating with joy.
She began bouncing on her feet, her twin tails swinging with every motion. Then, like a bunny who had just discovered a mountain of fresh carrots, Sayori hopped in a circle with glee, drawing the attention of nearby students.
"I told myself there was no way I could be wrong! My deduction skills are top-tier! I’m basically a detective—no, a genius!" she boasted, twirling in place before stopping to strike a dramatic pose, finger pointed at Kokoro like she was Phoenix Wright. "You even use the sa crosshatching technique on clothing folds! Do you think I wouldn’t notice that? Amateur mistake, K.K. Raven!"
Kokoro blinked, half-expecting her to produce a magnifying glass or sothing.
"I didn’t know I was being investigated..."
"Of course you didn’t," Sayori said smugly, folding her arms and puffing up her chest with pride. "That’s what makes so good. You can’t escape my eyes, Mister Author."
Kokoro scratched the back of his head, the heat rising to his cheeks. "Please don’t shout that out loud..."
Nearby students were beginning to glance their way, whispering. Sayori didn’t care in the slightest. She was still grinning like she’d just uncovered a state secret.
She laughed, that bubbly, delighted sound that seed to brighten the entire hallway.
"You’re the coolest, you know that?" she bead.
Kokoro smiled, flustered but ward by the genuine praise.
"C’mon," she said, looping her arm around his. "Let’s go eat, mysterious author-man."
And off they went, their footsteps echoing down the hallway, the beginning of sothing more sparkling just under the surface.
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