Storm of Confessions

Lunch break ended.

After school.

Inside the quiet classroom of Second Year Class A, golden sunlight spilled in through the windows. It was the kind of soft afternoon light that made everything look nostalgic—even if it hadn't happened yet.

Hayasaka Ai sat in silence, adjusting the angle of a desk. She glanced from the glowing window to the front of the room, where Sakurai Saki was wiping the blackboard. Calm, focused, casual. The way he raised his arm to erase a line of chalk felt almost cinematic in the warm light.

Kaguya Shinomiya made him blush…?

Hayasaka had scoffed at the idea when she first saw Kaguya's smugly titled email—subject: Victory Confirmed: Visual Evidence Attached. But she'd opened the photo anyway.

She had stared at it for a long time.

There he was: Sakurai Saki, cheeks flushed red, eyes averted, fingers flying nervously over his phone.

She had never seen him like that.

Not even once.

He really blushed… because of her.

The disbelief slowly gave way to something else. Something colder. Sharper.

I can't keep waiting around.

If she stayed silent, if she let this awkward little war between Kaguya and herself play out to the bitter end... she'd lose. And not just the game.

She'd lose him.

Am I really going to wait until he's married? With kids? Am I going to become one of those bitter aunts who say they had "their chance once" but "missed the timing"?

No way. Not Hayasaka Ai.

She finished straightening the desks, her movements mechanical now.

Today was their cleaning duty. Just the two of them left in the classroom. The timing couldn't be better.

She had no preference for who confessed first. She didn't care about "chasing" or "being chased." For Hayasaka, love was simple:

If you like someone, just try.

Otherwise, you'll regret it.

And regret was the one human instinct she refused to indulge in.

People regret everything. Lost youth. Unspoken love. Missed opportunities. That's just what we do.

She pictured herself far in the future: hair silver, skin wrinkled, sitting in a quiet house alone, watching a sunset like this one. Imagining an alternate life, a better one, where she had done the thing she'd been too afraid to do.

If only, in that afternoon sun, I had stopped thinking about the consequences…

If only I'd put everything down and just said it.

She wouldn't let that happen. Not her.

Not today.

Sakurai Saki finished cleaning and turned to her.

"What's wrong, Ai-chan?"

His voice was so normal, so casual. He smiled as he asked. Just like always.

Her heart jumped. Her cheeks flushed.

Just like always, she thought bitterly. And I'm the only one changing.

He sensed something.

"Is there something you wanna say, meow?" he joked, turning back to the chalk tray.

Still lighthearted. Still unaware.

"Oh, by the way," he continued, "if it's about tonight's game, I found a new two-player co-op. We could—"

But Hayasaka Ai was already walking.

Her steps slow. Heavy. Steady.

He didn't notice. Not at first. He thought she was just helping finish up.

But to her, this was the moment her life would shift. The real confession. The kind that split timelines.

She wasn't thinking about the Shinomiya family. Or her job. Or Kaguya.

She was thinking only of him.

He was the one person who had seen through her endless masks and still smiled at what he found underneath.

If not him… then who?

If not now… then when?

He was facing the blackboard, still talking.

"It rained this morning, huh? Thought it'd last all day. But it cleared up at noon. Even the track's drying—sports club kids are out there already. You think they'll slip and—"

Thud.

Hayasaka Ai slammed her hand to the board beside his head, pinning him in place.

Sakurai turned back, confused, eyes wide.

The distance between them shrank to centimeters.

"Huh? What's wrong?"

Wall-slamming me…?

Her breath was quick. Her eyes locked on his.

"I have something important…" she said, suppressing the tremor in her voice, "to tell you…"

Sakurai stared. Then—he smiled.

Playfully.

"What, are you gonna confess to me or something?"

It was a joke.

A reflex.

But it struck like a slap.

Hayasaka Ai's heart crumpled inward.

He didn't believe her. He didn't see it.The moment she'd prepared for—the words she had nearly spoken—all brushed aside like a tease.

Her courage evaporated.

"No," she lied. Her voice cool, her expression carefully blank. "I just wanted to say… I'm sorry for ditching you yesterday."

The weight fell from her shoulders.

Not in relief.

In defeat.

Coward.

Sakurai tilted his head, then grinned again.

"Geez, Ai-chan… you scared me for a sec. I really thought you were gonna kiss me or something."

She kept her hand on the board, but inside, her resolve had already fallen.

Hayasaka Ai looked straight at his face.

The warmth was still there in her chest—burning, raw, real. But words alone… weren't working. He didn't believe her.

He'd turned her courage into a joke.

Then let's see you laugh at this.

A single, fierce thought surged through her.

Sakurai Saki blinked as her expression changed—no longer shy, no longer hesitant. Determined.

"Ai-chan…?"

Before he could finish, she moved.

In his stunned gaze, Hayasaka Ai slowly leaned in, her eyes never leaving his.

The soft sound of their breaths mingled in the narrow space between them. Her lips hovered just beside his cheek, and the heat of her breath sent a jolt through him.

She saw it—the flicker in his eyes, the quick dart to the side, the tremble that betrayed his cool act.

"You should understand my feelings now," she whispered.

Their lips drew closer. The warmth between them tightened, vibrating in the tension of the moment. Inches. Millimeters. The next breath could close the gap.

Then—

Footsteps.

From down the hall.

Close. Getting closer.

They broke apart instantly—reflexively—like startled cats.

"Sakurai-kun!! My cleaning's done!! Let's go to the Student Council Room togeth—"

Fujiwara Chika's voice rang out like a bucket of cold water. She poked her head into Class A's door, cheerful as ever, the big black ribbon on her head bouncing with each step.

She paused at the sight.

Sakurai was standing at the teacher's desk, awkwardly fiddling with a chalk box that was already neatly stowed.

Fujiwara blinked, puzzled.

"Umm… Sakurai-kun, the chalk's already been put away… You don't need to move it again?"

He stiffened. "Ah… right. Just double-checking. For… chalk distribution integrity."

What am I saying??

Chika then spotted the other girl.

"Hayasaka-san! Good afternoon~!"

Her smile was bright, innocent.

"It's such a pity we're not in the same class this year!"

Despite everything, Chika still got along well with Hayasaka Ai. They'd once laughed together about dumb rom-com tropes, never realizing they'd become characters in one.

Of course… that was before Sakurai.

Hayasaka Ai forced a grin and shifted into her usual bubbly gyaru voice.

"Yoro~ Chika-chan~! I missed you tooooo~"

She bounded over and wrapped her arms around Chika in a dramatic hug, pressing her cheek against the other girl's smooth, fair neck.

Internally?

She was seething.

Damn it, Fujiwara!! I was so close!

Do you think you're the main wife catching her husband red-handed?! Why do you always appear at the perfect moment!?

But on the outside?

"Ehehe~ Chika-chan's skin is sooo soft~ Did you change your lotion~?"

Control. You must maintain control, Hayasaka Ai.

After a moment, Chika pulled back with a smile, totally oblivious to the battlefield she'd just stumbled onto.

"Okay! Since cleaning's done, I'm heading back. See you tomorrow, both of you!"

She waved and exited, still humming a cheerful tune.

Hayasaka Ai didn't even watch her leave. She grabbed her bag from her chair and slung it over her shoulder, moving toward the rear door of the classroom.

"I'm heading out too."

Her voice was light. Breezy. It didn't match the storm behind her eyes.

She didn't look back.

Inside the room, Sakurai Saki was frozen in place.

He stood there, staring at the chalk box like it held the secrets of the universe.

What… just happened?

Her breath had been so close.

Her voice—so serious.

She'd almost kissed him. And not jokingly. Not like their usual teasing.

It wasn't a trick.

It was real.

Wait… was she really going to…?

His ears burned.

His chest tightened.

I'm… really bad at this kind of thing.

No kidding.

When it came to direct attacks, Sakurai Saki was as defenseless as a baby bunny dropped in front of a tiger.

And Hayasaka Ai… had just bared her fangs—then walked away like it meant nothing.

..p@treon Rene_chan