Crossover: After deciding to give up, i became popular

In one of the Shinomiya family's mansions, a girl in pajamas was rolling around on her bed.

"Ahhh!!! I held hands with the President!"

The same words had been repeated so many times that the maid nearby was starting to lose her patience.

"Miss Kaguya! May I remind you that it's already 11:30 PM? You should go to sleep," Hayasaka Ai said.

"But I can't sleep!" Kaguya sat up abruptly, pouting. Her giddy demeanor radiated pink, flower-filled girlish energy throughout the room.

"Hehe, since the President held my hand… what will happen next?"

"Milady, if I may, instead of overthinking things, why don't you message Kanade-sama right now and invite him out tomorrow?" Hayasaka suggested, gesturing to the phone Kaguya had been clutching since she got home.

Ever since returning, her foolish mistress had been obsessively holding her phone, claiming she was waiting for Kanade to text her first.

Dream on!

Just because you held his hand—an act she initiated—did she think she could capture that playboy's heart?

"Oh, no way! Inviting the President out would be moving way too fast!" Kaguya protested.

Hayasaka's face went blank.

You think holding hands is less "fast" than asking him to hang out?

Her mistress truly lived in her own sanitized bubble.

"That look on your face… Holding hands is nothing! Hanging out together is far more intimate! Who knows what could happen…" Kaguya trailed off, rolling around on her bed again and making delighted squealing noises.

Yet here you are, squealing about holding hands. Hayasaka sighed, utterly defeated.

Her lady was utterly hopeless—head over heels for that so-called "playboy President."

If Kanade genuinely reciprocated Kaguya's feelings, Hayasaka could accept that and support her. But after all her subtle probing, she still couldn't figure out Kanade's true intentions.

If he didn't like Kaguya, why keep teasing her and staying close to her? Yet if he did like her, why confess to her (Hayasaka) before?

Could he really be a shameless womanizer trying to juggle multiple girls?

But Kanade's profile didn't match that. His behavior was maddeningly contradictory, leaving Hayasaka more frustrated than ever.

She had a sinking feeling that Kaguya's romantic journey would be riddled with obstacles.

Meanwhile, Kanade lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He'd been tossing and turning for over an hour, his mind stuck on one thing:

Why did Kaguya hold my hand like that?

Does she… like me?

But wasn't Kaguya supposed to like Shirogane Miyuki?

Or… had he misunderstood all along? Was he the one Kaguya liked from the start?

Kanade's mind spiraled with confusion.

He couldn't bring himself to believe that Kaguya Shinomiya—the girl who had always challenged him with icy glares—actually harbored feelings for him.

Honestly, he found it easier to believe Fujiwara Chika had a crush on him than Kaguya.

Up until that afternoon, Kanade had thought Kaguya barely tolerated him. Her cold demeanor gave him little reason to think otherwise.

And now, suddenly, she's smiling sweetly at me because she likes me?

It sounded like the plot of a light novel.

Kanade was more inclined to think she was either playing some elaborate game or had momentarily lost her senses.

Unless Kaguya had been an exceptional actress all along, hiding her true feelings behind a stoic façade, this didn't match anything he knew about her—not in reality, nor in the original story.

Then there was something else on Kanade's mind.

I don't feel the same way about them anymore…

If this had been the old him, the moment Kaguya smiled warmly at him and said, "President, do you need something?" he would have thrown caution to the wind and confessed on the spot.

For her to transform from the "Ice Queen" to someone willing to show him such vulnerability would have been proof enough of her feelings.

But now…

He couldn't do it.

He couldn't confess. He was afraid of being rejected and losing the tenuous friendship they had. He was also afraid of the opposite—that if she accepted, he'd spiral further into confusion.

Instead, he deflected.

He asked her to "continue being my Vice President" instead of saying, "I like you. Please go out with me."

On the surface, it looked like cowardice. But to Kanade, it was a sign of his newfound seriousness.

In the past, Kanade would have insisted his feelings were genuine, believing that even a superficial connection could grow into something real.

But now he saw that as a flawed mindset.

He'd grown—thanks to his friends, who had taught him a valuable lesson:

Entering a relationship without genuine feelings was a mistake. Even if his intentions weren't malicious, uncertainty in his own heart was still wrong.

A false love, no matter how polished, would remain an illusion.

Kanade sighed deeply, grappling with this newfound clarity.

He couldn't bring himself to act until he was sure of his emotions.

And if that day ever came, he knew he'd be ready to stand before the girl he truly loved—not as the hesitant, insecure boy he was now, but as someone confident and sincere.

He'd proudly declare, "I like you. Please go out with me."

If she accepted, he'd celebrate by spinning her around in joy.

If she rejected him, he'd smile and wish her happiness with someone else.

And later, in the privacy of an empty corner, he'd let himself cry—not out of regret for wasted effort, but from the raw pain of unrequited love.

Yes, he thought. I've really grown.

Even though he now hesitated and second-guessed himself, this only proved he was more thoughtful—more serious—about love.

"Goodnight…" Kanade murmured softly.

"…to the person I used to be."