Surviving the walk to school the next morning felt like completing a marathon. Every glance from a fellow student, every hushed conversation I overheard, I immediately assumed was about me and Sakura-san. My paranoia was at an all-time high. Kenji, walking beside me, seemed completely unfazed, occasionally nudging me with his elbow and whispering things like, "Operation Lovebirds is a go," or "Try to look less like you're going to the principal's office."
When I reached my classroom, the atmosphere felt subtly different. People who normally barely noticed me seemed to be giving me curious looks. A few girls from the back of the room were openly whispering and glancing my way, then giggling.
It was working. The 'debut' at the gate had landed. My comfortable invisibility cloak had been ripped to shreds.
Lunchtime arrived with the swift, terrifying inevitability of a final boss battle. My usual routine involved a bento box eaten quickly at my desk or on the quiet rooftop, usually with Kenji. Today, the plan was the cafeteria. The crowded, noisy, highly visible cafeteria.
Kenji clapped me on the back as the lunch bell rang. "Alright, buddy. Big show. Don't choke. Remember, 'repeated coincidences leading to destiny'!"
"Thanks for the pep talk," I mumbled, my stomach doing acrobatic feats.
I met Sakura-san just outside my classroom. She was waiting patiently, looking as effortlessly perfect as always. She gave me a small, encouraging smile that did little to calm my nerves.
"Ready, Tanaka-kun?" she asked, her voice low.
"As I'll ever be, I guess," I replied.
We walked together towards the cafeteria. The walk itself was an event. Heads turned. Conversations died down, then flared up again in excited murmurs as we passed. It felt like walking a gauntlet. I kept my eyes mostly ahead, but I could feel the weight of hundreds of eyes on us.
Entering the cafeteria was like stepping onto a stage. The noise level seemed to drop by half as people noticed us. Finding a table felt like navigating a minefield of staring faces. We chose one towards the back, hoping for a little less scrutiny, but there was no real escape.
We sat down, side by side, trays in front of us. The silence at nearby tables was deafening. Everyone was watching.
"Okay," Sakura-san whispered, her voice barely audible above the general cafeteria hum that was slowly starting to resume. "Act natural. Just... eat your lunch. And talk to me."
"Talk about what?" I whispered back, feeling utterly paralyzed.
"Anything! How was your morning? What classes did you have? Did you see that cat near the science lab?" She prompted, her eyes scanning the room subtly.
I took a deep breath. Okay. Normal conversation. I could do that. Probably.
"Uh... morning was fine, I guess," I started, trying to sound casual. "Had Math. And History. History was... historical." Great start, Hiroshi. Nailed it.
Sakura-san gave a tiny, almost imperceptible smile. "Historical, huh? Fascinating. I had English. And then Student Council meeting. We're planning the Culture Festival already."
"Already?" I asked, finding it slightly easier to talk now that we'd started. "Isn't that months away?"
"It is, but it's a huge event. Lots to organize. Decorations, stage schedules, club booths..." She listed items, sounding genuinely engaged. This wasn't her 'idol' voice; it was her 'plotting to save the club' voice, just applied to a different task.
As we talked, slowly, awkwardly at first, then a little more naturally, I became more aware of the surrounding stares. People weren't just glancing anymore; they were openly watching us. Some whispered behind their hands. Others pointed discreetly (or not so discreetly).
Suddenly, I noticed a group of girls sitting at a nearby table. They were from Sakura-san's usual social circle – popular, fashionable, confident. They weren't whispering. They were staring. Hard. And their expressions weren't curious; they were sharp, assessing, almost... hostile?
One of them, a girl with striking short, black hair and a piercing gaze, was particularly intense. She wasn't eating. She was just watching us, her eyes narrowed. I recognized her slightly – she was Sato Akane, one of Sakura-san's closest friends, often seen by her side.
My internal panic flared again. This felt different from the general school gossip. This felt like scrutiny from the inner circle.
Sakura-san must have noticed where I was looking. Her posture seemed to stiffen almost imperceptibly. Her smile became fractionally tighter.
"Just ignore them, Tanaka-kun," she murmured, her voice still low, but with an edge I hadn't heard before.
Easier said than done. Being stared at by the general populace was one thing. Being stared at with suspicion by the queen bee's best friend was entirely another.
I tried to focus on my lunch, a standard katsu curry. It suddenly tasted like cardboard.
"So," Sakura-san said, louder this time, projecting her voice slightly more, clearly for the benefit of our eavesdropping audience. "About the Classic Literature & Film Society's project for the contest... I was thinking we could do a joint presentation on 'Love Stories in Classic Film and Literature.' We could show clips, read excerpts... maybe even do a little skit?"
She leaned towards me as she said 'skit,' lowering her voice again, a conspiratorial look on her face. It was a performance, designed to look like a genuine, couple-y discussion about a club project, implying shared interests.
"A skit?" I whispered back, trying to look engaged rather than terrified at the thought of acting in public. "Like... we'd be in it?"
"Maybe!" she whispered, a spark of amusement in her eyes. "It would definitely get attention. We could even call it something like... 'From Page to Screen, and Our Story In Between'."
I nearly choked on my rice. "'Our Story In Between'?! You're really leaning into the 'destiny' part, aren't you?"
She winked. An actual, playful wink. My heart skipped a beat. "Gotta make it convincing, Tanaka-kun. For the club."
Despite the terrifying audience and my churning stomach, talking about the club project felt… surprisingly easy. It was something real, something we genuinely cared about (or she cared about deeply, and I cared about enough not to let it die). We discussed ideas, bouncing suggestions back and forth. It felt almost... normal.
As we talked, I risked another glance at Sato-san Akane's table. She was still watching, her expression unchanged. But the other girls at her table had gone back to their lunches, though they were still occasionally glancing over. Maybe Akane-san was the only one who was going to be a problem.
Our lunch together, the longest, most anxiety-inducing meal of my life, finally came to an end. We finished eating, gathered our trays, and walked together to the tray return. The walk back through the cafeteria was just as noticeable as the walk in, if not more so.
As we were leaving the cafeteria, heading towards the stairs, I heard a voice call out.
"Yamato-san!"
It was Sato-san Akane. She was standing by her table, her arms crossed, still holding that intense stare.
Sakura-san stopped. I stopped with her.
"Yes, Akane?" Sakura-san replied, her voice calm, her public smile back in place, but her posture subtly guarded.
Akane-san walked towards us, her gaze fixed on me. It felt like being examined under a microscope.
"Just wanted to say hello," Akane-san said, but her tone was anything but friendly. She stopped right in front of us, forcing us to look at her. Her eyes flickered down to my hand, then back up to mine. "And to introduce myself properly, Tanaka-kun. I'm Akane Sato. Sakura's... very close friend."
It wasn't a greeting. It was a warning.
I gulped. Sakura-san's close friend looked like she saw right through our little act. And she wasn't happy about it.