I swallowed. "You didn't have to. I mean, not that I mind. Just… yeah."
"Mm…" She looked down at her shoes. Her shoulders curled inward like she was trying to shrink herself. "I didn't want to go home yet. That's all."
I nodded. Then realized I hadn't actually said anything useful. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Makes sense. Kinda."
Silence.
Long, awkward, suffocating silence.
I could hear someone's water bottle clinking in their bag from all the way down the hall. That's how quiet it was.
She peeked up at me again, just barely. "…S-So. Um. How was class?"
"Good! Normal," I said way too fast. "Totally average. Like, nothing happened. I took notes. Sort of. I mean, I wrote things. Words. Maybe not the right words…"
I could hear my own soul leave my body.
"Oh… that's… nice," she said.
"…Did you, um, eat lunch today?" she asked suddenly, like she'd yanked the words out of a hat.
"Y-Yeah. Bread from the cafeteria. Yakisoba-pan," I said. "You?"
"Noodles. From the store. Cup noodles. It was… spicy."
"Oh. Cool. I like… spicy."
"I-It was a mistake. I drank too fast and almost choked."
"…Oh."
Why are we like this.
"…But I lived," she added, after a pause.
"…I'm glad you lived," I said seriously.
She looked down again. Was she… smiling? Maybe. A little.
I shifted my bag on my shoulder, trying to act cool.
"Hey, um… there's this café near the station," I said, pretending like it wasn't a death sentence in disguise. "Want to stop by for a bit? My treat."
"C-Café?!"
Her voice cracked like a cat stepping on a toy piano left out in the rain. I could hear the dramatic anime sound effect in the background—BWOINNNG. If this were a visual novel, there'd be flower petals falling in slow motion behind her.
"I-It's a date, right? Right?"
"…Sure," I lied, smoothly, like a professional con artist with zero ethics and negative self-preservation instincts.
I smiled on the outside.
On the inside?
Panic. Despair. Existential crisis.
I just want to erase this adorable, cute, shy creature's love for me—which was forced by that drunkard god who clearly had too much time and sake on his hands.
Who the hell turns divine roulette into a matchmaking service?
If she keeps acting like a maiden in love and doing poetry slam recitals in class for a month, I will be freaking exhausted.
At this rate, I'm going to need daily therapy and two umbrellas to block her love attacks.
No joke, I already have three nosebleeds logged from sheer embarrassment. At this rate, I'll become anemic and start floating like a spirit in the wind.
And worst of all? Her divine-induced feelings expire after thirty days. Like milk.
And then?
She'll remember everything she did.
All the letters.
All the stares.
All the times she whispered "I love you" to my eraser in the class when she thought I wasn't looking.
She will definitely kill me after a month when her feelings disappear.
Like, actual murder. Probably with a smile.
So, it's best to solve this forcibly than waiting for the month to end.
Operation: "Crash and Burn This Fake Romance Before It Becomes a Greek Tragedy."
Target acquired. Mission start.
We walked out of school and headed to the café in absolute silence.
Not the cool, romantic kind of silence. The "our social skills have packed up and gone to Okinawa" kind.
Why is it so quiet?
Is this what a date is supposed to be?
It felt less like a date and more like I was walking beside an NPC who hadn't loaded their dialogue yet.
Not that I had any dating experience to begin with. Unless you count imaginary scenarios in the shower where I say something cool and my shampoo bottle falls in love with me.
And Rin?
Rin was the silent type. The kind of girl so quiet that the class only discovered her existence after midterms. One day she just answered a math question and three people in class screamed.
We arrived at the café. It was fancy-looking—the kind of place couples go to after dramatic misunderstandings in anime. I half-expected a background love song to start playing the moment we stepped in.
Mochimochi Café – 4:21 PM
We sat at a corner table, awkwardly sipping matcha lattes like two AI robots attempting human interaction. The café was quaint and cozy, lined with pastel bookshelves and plush bunny décor that screamed "please flirt here, thank you."
There was a couple two tables away holding hands and feeding each other cake. Meanwhile, we were reenacting the final boss battle of Social Anxiety.
It was weirdly quiet. Like, horror-movie quiet. Every time our spoons clinked against our cups, it sounded like "CLANK!!"
Yep. That's it. I'm officially the sound effects guy now.
Rin sat across from me, both hands tightly wrapped around her cup like she was using it to summon emotional support. Her fingers twitched whenever our eyes accidentally met—then she'd dart her gaze away like she was playing a dating sim on nightmare mode.
I was dying inside.
Okay. Breathe. Say something. Anything. Ask her about the weather. The economy. Her favorite Pokémon. Just—