Sakura-san's words about "unexpected things" left me in a state of perpetual mental fog. Was it real? Was it really happening? Every interaction with her now felt charged with potential meaning, every smile, every glance, every casual touch (even if part of the act) made my heart race and my mind search for hidden signals.
Meanwhile, Akane Sato remained a constant, low-grade source of anxiety. After the preliminary presentations, her suspicion hadn't vanished; it had just become less overt. She wasn't cornering us anymore, but I could feel her eyes on us sometimes – in the hallways, in the cafeteria, even during joint club advisor meetings where Sakura-san was present for the Student Council.
It felt like she was observing, gathering data. Like a detective building a case.
One afternoon, I was in the library working on some research for the Classic Literature & Film Society project. Sakura-san couldn't make it that day due to Student Council duties. It was just me, the quiet library, and the stacks of books.
I was focused on finding interesting quotes when a shadow fell over my table.
I looked up. It was Akane-san.
She wasn't smiling. Her expression was neutral, but her eyes held that familiar sharpness. She was alone.
My stomach instantly tightened. This felt like an unscheduled interrogation.
"Tanaka-kun," she said, her voice calm and measured. Not cold, but not friendly either.
"Sato-san," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "Uh, hello."
She didn't sit down immediately. She just stood there, looking at the books on my table, the notes scattered around.
"Working on the project?" she asked, her gaze sweeping over my materials.
"Yes," I confirmed. "Researching for the final presentation."
She nodded slowly. Then, she pulled out a chair from the adjacent table and sat down, facing me directly. My escape routes felt instantly cut off.
"The preliminary presentation was... effective," she said, her voice flat. "You certainly generated the buzz you needed for the contest."
"We tried our best," I mumbled.
"Sakura mentioned your project theme. 'Unexpected love'," she continued, her eyes fixing on mine. It felt like she was looking into my soul. "An interesting choice. Given the circumstances."
My heart rate picked up. "Given the... circumstances?"
She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a lower tone, private in the public setting of the library. "Tanaka-kun, I've known Sakura since middle school. I know her tells. I know when she's genuinely happy, when she's stressed, and when she's... putting on a performance."
She paused, letting her words sink in. My carefully constructed composure was starting to crumble.
"The way she looks at you in public," Akane-san continued, her gaze unwavering, "the way she talks about the club project... it's convincing. Very convincing. But... there are moments. Little things. A flicker in her eyes when she thinks no one is watching. A slight tension when you're too close unexpectedly."
She was observant. More observant than I'd given her credit for. She was seeing the cracks in the facade. Or perhaps... she was seeing the moments when the facade wasn't there.
"And then there's you, Tanaka-kun," Akane-san said, shifting her focus entirely back to me. "Before this, you were practically invisible. Now you're walking the hallways with the school idol, holding her hand, having lunch in the cafeteria. You seem... overwhelmed. And sometimes... when you look at her... it's not just the look of someone pretending."
My face felt hot. Was it that obvious?
"What... what are you getting at, Sato-san?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
She held my gaze, her expression serious. "I'm getting at the truth, Tanaka-kun. I care about Sakura. A lot. And I don't want her to be involved in something that's going to hurt her, or damage her reputation. Especially if she's doing it out of some misguided sense of responsibility for a dying club."
She leaned back slightly, her tone becoming more direct. "So, let's be clear. Is this a project? A performance to save the club? Or is there something else happening? Are you... are you using her? Or is she... is she actually developing feelings for this... this 'unexpected love'?"
The questions hit me like a barrage. Was I using her? The thought was horrifying. No, I was helping her save her grandmother's club. It was her idea. But was it possible her feelings were changing? And was mine?
"Sato-san," I said, struggling to find the right words. "It started as a project. For the club. It's... important to her. And I agreed to help."
"And now?" Akane-san pressed. "Is it still just a project?"
I thought about Sakura-san's "unexpected things" comment. About the look in her eyes. About my own confusing feelings. I couldn't lie to Akane-san completely. Not about that.
"It's... complicated," I admitted, using the same word I'd used with Aiko, but feeling its weight even more heavily now. "It started for the club. But... things are happening. Unexpected things."
Akane-san studied my face. She seemed to be searching for the lie, but finding only my genuine confusion and discomfort.
She sighed, a sound of frustration. "Complicated. Of course. Look, Tanaka-kun. My priority is Sakura's well-being. If this project, or whatever it's becoming, puts her at risk, I will step in. Do you understand?"
It was a direct threat, delivered calmly. A promise to interfere if she felt Sakura-san was in danger.
"I understand," I said. "And I... I don't want her to get hurt either, Sato-san. That's the last thing I want."
Akane-san held my gaze for another moment, then slowly nodded. It wasn't a sign of trust, but maybe a sign that she believed my sincerity on that one point.
She stood up, gathering nothing, as she hadn't brought anything with her. "Work hard on your presentation, Tanaka-kun. I'll be watching."
With that final, chilling remark, she turned and walked away, leaving me alone again at the library table, surrounded by books about love stories, my mind reeling from the real-life drama that had just unfolded.
Akane Sato was more than just a suspicious friend. She was an active investigator, a protector, and a formidable obstacle. She knew the act wasn't perfect, she saw the 'unexpected things,' and she was ready to intervene.
And I had just implicitly confirmed to her that the fake relationship was, indeed, becoming complicated.