"The dessert selection here is way too limited. I mean, they're tasty and all, but still..." Eriri grumbled, stabbing a small piece of cake with her fork before popping it into her mouth. A pleased expression flickered across her face as she chewed.
"You're expecting too much. This isn't some high-end pâtisserie..." Natsukawa Kanade sighed, shaking his head. He picked up his coffee, taking a slow sip, and let out a contented sigh. "That said, the quality is surprisingly good. I heard that the chefs and pastry masters here were sent directly from Shuchiin. I thought it was just some ridiculous rumor..."
In most schools, the whole point of the Forest School trip was to foster independence, which meant students were usually expected to cook for themselves. At most, they'd get minor assistance if necessary.
Shuchiin, however, operated on an entirely different level. They not only provided a fully staffed cafeteria but also dispatched elite culinary professionals to ensure that their students wouldn't suffer from the horrors of self-prepared meals.
Because of that, aside from the first day, when everyone was still excited to try making their own food, most students abandoned the whole idea and flocked to the cafeteria. The whole "self-sufficiency" aspect of the trip was basically just an illusion.
"Even if it's good, eating the same thing every day gets boring..." Eriri muttered pointedly, her gaze fixed on the dessert on Kanade's plate. "How's yours?"
"Not bad. It's lighter than I expected." Kanade nodded in approval.
"...That's it?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"...That's all you have to say?"
Kanade blinked at her, a little confused. Was she expecting some kind of dramatic review?
"Uhh… well, if you really want me to elaborate... The inside is soft, with a subtle bitterness from the matcha that contrasts nicely with the sweetness. The outer layer is light and airy, and as soon as you take a bite, the aroma spreads across your tongue, leaving a refreshing aftertaste..."
"..."
Eriri stared at him, momentarily speechless. Then, without warning, a sigh slipped from her lips.
He really had changed.
Back in the day, he wouldn't have needed her to spell it out for him. Without hesitation, he would have smiled and said, "Mine's pretty good too. Want to try some?"
Even if she had stubbornly refused—huffing something like, "I don't want anything you've already eaten"—he wouldn't have been discouraged. He'd just keep insisting, as persistent as ever.
But now? The tables had completely turned. He had become too self-aware, too careful, too distant. Meanwhile, she was the one hesitating, unsure if she should push forward or hold back. Just the thought of him rejecting her made her stomach twist. She wasn't ready to take that risk.
Still... it wasn't all bad, was it?
Sure, she missed those moments of casual closeness, but at least she could still walk by his side. She could still talk to him, share moments like these, and—if she threw a tantrum every now and then—he might even try to comfort her. That was something, right?
But how long would that last?
It wasn't like she hadn't thought about it. If she made a habit of acting spoiled, would there come a day when he'd just decide she was too much trouble? What if she took things too far and he finally lost his patience with her?
Teenage girls tended to overthink things. Especially when it came to the person they liked. Every little detail, every interaction, every potential future—it all turned into a tangled mess in their heads.
Boys, on the other hand—
Kanade was still mulling over his description of the dessert, completely oblivious to Eriri's internal crisis. Did he convey the flavor properly? Was his explanation too abstract? Should he have been more descriptive?
But before he could dwell on it any further, a familiar trio entered the scene.
"Wow, President Natsukawa, I really have to admire you," a voice called out.
Kanade turned his head and immediately spotted the three girls marching toward him, each wearing the unmistakable expression of someone about to stir up trouble.
"Uh... what's going on?"
Even though they were practically accusing him right from the start, Natsukawa Kanade didn't show any impatience. As the student council president, maintaining composure was second nature to him. Losing his cool over something trivial wasn't his style.
Besides, he knew these three. They were Mahiru's friends—perhaps her only real friends.
That fact alone made Kanade take them seriously.
Mahiru was someone he had always worried about. Despite her angelic reputation, she was lonelier than anyone realized. There were countless students at the school who adored her, showering her with praise, but not one of them truly stood by her side. They admired her from a distance, put her on a pedestal—but none of them ever reached out to her.
Worse still, her family was of no help. She had been born out of a marriage of convenience, the result of a fleeting impulse between two people who barely regarded each other as more than business partners. Once she entered the world, they resumed their separate lives, casting her aside without hesitation.
The only thing they ever did for her was hire a nanny to tend to her basic needs and send a monthly allowance. Any attempt she made to express her feelings was met with cold indifference.
"Your problems have nothing to do with us."
She'd never heard words crueler than that.
And yet, despite the emotional void left by her family, Mahiru had always been perfect in the eyes of others—beautiful, intelligent, kind. She never failed to maintain her image. No one knew the loneliness she carried deep inside.
Kanade had always known. And that was why, when he saw her gradually opening up to a small group of friends, he had been relieved. He had even gone out of his way to quietly investigate these people—just to make sure they weren't bad influences. In the end, they turned out to be good kids, just a little flashy in how they dressed. That was fine. As long as they could bring out Mahiru's genuine smiles, he had no complaints.
That was why he never interfered when they were together. He gave them space, let Mahiru have a life outside of his presence.
Yet now, for some reason, these very friends had come looking for him.
Why?
The answer was obvious.
Something had happened to Mahiru.
Kanade's relaxed expression hardened. His instincts flared, telling him something was wrong.
"What happened? Did something happen to Mahiru?"
The girls, who had been looking at each other hesitantly, seemed taken aback by his sharp tone. The leader of the group—long black hair, eyes full of suspicion—gave him a complicated look before speaking.
"If you care so much, why are you still cheating on her?"
Kanade blinked. "...Cheating?"
It took him a moment, but he followed their gazes toward the girl sitting opposite him—Eriri, who was still nibbling on her cake, completely unconcerned about the confrontation unfolding before her.
Oh.
So that's what this was about.
"You've got the wrong idea," Kanade sighed. "Eriri is just a close friend."
"Just a friend?" The leader raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
"Seriously. That's all there is to it."
She looked as though she wanted to argue, but in the end, she just clicked her tongue and shoved a bag toward him.
"This is Mahiru's bag. Go give it to her."
Kanade stared at the bag in her hands, then back up at the girls. "Now?"
"Obviously."
"She was sitting with us just now," one of the other girls added, crossing her arms.
"…And now she's not?" Kanade muttered, finally putting the pieces together.
Mahiru had been here. She must have seen him with Eriri. And then she had… left?
His stomach twisted.
So that's what this was.
Mahiru's friends had assumed he was cheating. She had probably tried to explain, but it wasn't enough to convince them, so they had come over to confront him directly. Meanwhile, Mahiru herself had disappeared somewhere, upset enough to abandon her own bag.
But why?
Kanade felt frustration bubbling up inside him. When had he ever given Mahiru a reason to misunderstand his feelings? He had always been careful with his words, always made sure to treat her with the sincerity she deserved. Had she really thought—?
No. Now wasn't the time to dwell on that.
He needed to find her.
Fortunately, her friends seemed to be on the same page.
"What are you waiting for?" The leader said, arms akimbo. "Go find her."
"She's probably in her room."
"We share a suite. Room 2108."
"You can go in without knocking."
Kanade gave them a long look. Their expressions were serious—no teasing, no hostility anymore. They wanted him to go. They wanted him to fix this.
He let out a slow breath and nodded. "Alright."
But just as he was about to stand up, he suddenly remembered the girl sitting across from him.
Eriri had been oddly silent throughout the exchange. She had stopped eating at some point, her gaze flicking between him and Mahiru's friends.
Kanade hesitated. "Eriri—"
"I'm sorry, Eriri. I'm a little concerned... Anyway, I have to excuse myself now and contact you later."
"Ah..."
Eriri opened her mouth, wanting to say something—anything—but the words got stuck in her throat.
It wasn't just because of Kanade's sudden departure; the three girls standing nearby acted like an invisible pressure keeping her in check. Their confident, hot-girl aura made a well-behaved girl like her feel oddly restrained, like she was out of her depth.
So all she could do was sit there, watching helplessly as the boy she liked got lured away to another girl's room.
Another girl's room!
She didn't even dare to let her mind wander down that path—she might just pass out from sheer embarrassment.
How could a high school boy get involved in something so impure?!
It's too much! It's too sour!
But Kanade, of course, couldn't hear the storm raging in her heart. Even if she had mustered up the courage to call out to him, it was too late. He was already at the door, bag in hand, disappearing from view before she could make a move.
Her heart sank as she stared at the empty space he left behind, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness. Then, her gaze slowly shifted to the three fashionable girls still standing beside her.
On the surface, she forced herself to stay calm. But inside—
HELP! HELP! I DON'T WANT TO LOSE MY TEETH!!!
Like a tiny puppy caught in a den of lions, the poor golden retriever of a girl could only shrink into the corner of the sofa, trembling.