Chapter 1: Second and First

♥♥♥

The Mystery Research Club’s clubroom is located at the far end of the second floor of the old school building.

Once used as a reception room for guests, it’s equipped with a hot water pot, a fridge, an air conditioner, and even a sofa set. It’s a very comfortable space. From the adjacent second music room, the sound of a piano always drifts over after school. Some student is using it for personal practice.

“At our school, who’d you say are the most popular girls?”

The student council president, Maki Shouta, says.

It’s after school in the clubroom. I was lounging on the sofa as usual, listening to the piano from next door, when he suddenly barged in.

Back when I was a first-year, this guy was the one who told me about the Mystery Research Club, which was on the verge of being disbanded. Thanks to him, I’ve been using this clubroom alone until now, my second-year summer, enjoying a pretty comfortable high school life.

“In terms of popularity, it’s gotta be Tachibana Hikari and Hayasaka Akane as the top two, right?”

“Probably.”

“Which one do you like, Kirishima?”

“You show up after ages and hit me with that out of nowhere?”

“Didn’t you say before that it was Tachibana, Kirishima?”

That’s right. I once told this guy about the girl I like.

My number one is Tachibana-san, and my second favorite is that shy Hayasaka-san.

I still remember the feeling of holding her hand.

“You’re the type who’d fall for a supercar, Kirishima. Like a Ferrari or Lamborghini—those ultra-high-spec machines.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, Tachibana Hikari’s like that, right? Pale complexion, drop-dead gorgeous, and totally emotionless.”

Long hair, tallish, with a slender model-like figure, quiet and expressionless. She’s often alone, and it feels like the air around her is colder than everywhere else.

She’s unapproachable, like she’s some kind of luxury item.

“On the other hand, Hayasaka’s like a high-quality Japanese car, right?”

“That’s rude.”

“No, I mean, if I were to marry someone, it’d definitely be Hayasaka. She’s got that homely vibe, super pure, the perfect honor student. She’d never cheat, for sure. She probably gets confessed to even more than Tachibana.”

“I’m not impressed by you judging them based on their public image.”

Hayasaka-san is approachable and liked by everyone.

Her hair reaches her shoulders, and she’s on the shorter side. She’s always in the middle of the group, smiling a little awkwardly.

But despite her reserved demeanor, to borrow Maki’s crude phrasing, she has a “body that makes your rationality fly out the window in two seconds.” In other words, a girl who draws eyes to her chest and skirt.

“I’d never say that to her face, though.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause if she thought I was looking at her with perverted eyes, she’d hate me just for that.”

“I think she’s already figured it out.”

“No way. It’s Hayasaka we’re talking about. She’s a flower on a high peak in her own way.”

Pure, serious, and pristine—that’s her iconic image.

No matter how good-looking or popular she is, she’s expected to stay single, forever spotless.

But I recall what Hayasaka-san said.

“I’m not some good girl.”

Deep down, Hayasaka-san feels stifled by the image everyone projects onto her.

“Hey, Maki, I’ve been thinking—maybe Hayasaka-san’s actually a pretty normal girl?”

Like, maybe she wants to hold hands with a guy she’s close to.

According to Maki, even someone like Tachibana-san, who’s like a supercar, might be the same.

As I’m thinking about this, the melody of the piano from the music room next door shifts.

“So, the girl you’re into is surprisingly normal, huh?”

“I mean, sometimes their image gets way overblown.”

“Yeah, maybe. But even if there’s a gap, we wouldn’t know unless we were their boyfriend or something.”

“But those two are so popular that dating them would be a high hurdle.” Maki says.

“So, how’s it going with you? Any chance of romance with Tachibana, who you’re totally crushing on?”

“Zero. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“Why not?”

“Because not being able to date your number one crush is just normal.”

Think about it, I say.

“There are people who are liked by tons of others—popular people, attractive people. But only one person gets to date them. That means everyone else ends up heartbroken. So—”

Those who get rejected have no choice but to look for a new love. A second or third love—not the first.

“We have no choice but to compromise when it comes to love.”

“That’s pretty cynical.”

“Just realistic.”

Pure love is a fantasy. In reality, we deceive ourselves and others to fall in love.

“Love’s resentment……”

“Anyway, did you seriously come here just to talk about love?”

No, no, Maki waves his hand.

“I came to invite you to Nozaki’s karaoke thing.”

“Oh, that. I’m terrible at singing, though.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re just there to fill out the group. Nozaki’s desperate, so let’s help him out.”

“Fine, fine.”

I reply halfheartedly, glancing at the wall clock.

“I’ve got something to do, so I’m heading out.”

“What, you’re not staying to listen till the end?”

Maki points to the music room next door. The piano’s still playing today. But.

“I’ve got to visit a friend who caught a cold.”

“How dutiful.”

By the way, Maki adds.

“You’re kinda like that American novel, Kirishima. The one where the guy keeps staring at the light from the mansion of the girl he loves, drinking on the opposite shore.”

“The Great Gatsby.”

“Yeah, that.”

The Japanese title is The Great Gatsby. Written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, it’s a story—and I might get in trouble for saying this to someone who likes it—about the protagonist, Gatsby, who can’t be with his number one love and wallows in lingering regret while drinking.

“I’m not as sentimental as Jay Gatsby.”

“But you’re listening to the piano your crush plays through the wall every day, right?”

He’s not wrong.

The one practicing the piano next door is none other than Tachibana-san.

The somewhat detached, emotionally reserved girl who’s my number one.

“For the record, I started using this room first.”

“Hoping something might happen?”

“As if.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” Maki says.

“Tachibana’s out of reach, huh?”

“She’s already got a boyfriend.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Hayasaka-san is my second favorite.

I’m also Hayasaka-san’s second favorite.

At the start of summer, we learned we were each other’s second favorite and became second-choice lovers. Aside from being second in our affections, we’re no different from any other couple.

To me, being second favorite isn’t something to take lightly.

It’s like getting second place in the Koshien tournament or holding a 2 card in Daihinmin—pretty darn strong.

That’s why just holding hands with Hayasaka-san makes my heart race, and when she catches a cold, I worry enough to visit her.

“Sorry for making you come all this way.”

At a condo in a residential neighborhood, it’s Hayasaka-san herself who opens the door to greet me.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“There’s no one else here right now.”

“Eh?”

“Come on in.”

It’s so natural that as Hayasaka-san casually turns to head inside, I instinctively step over the threshold. As I take off my shoes, I feel a momentary dizziness. It’s the scent of someone else’s home.

Hayasaka-san, perhaps feeling chilly, is wearing a cardigan over her pajamas. The snug fit accentuates her figure, making her look incredibly provocative.

There’s no one else here right now.

Her earlier words float back to me. I almost imagine what it’d be like to hug her from behind, but I quickly shake off the thought. Hayasaka-san has a cold. That’s not okay.

Feeling it’d be rude to look around, I keep my eyes on my toes as I walk down the hallway.

“This is my room.”

I’m led to Hayasaka-san’s room. It’s neatly organized, giving off the vibe of a proper household’s daughter. The colorful pencil case and mechanical pencils on her desk are very girly.

“Here, some drinks and yogurt, if you want.”

“Thanks. Sit on that cushion there.”

Hayasaka-san, still in her pajamas, plops down on the floor and drinks about half of a sports drink. She still seems feverish, her face flushed.

“Sorry for barging in like this. I’ll head out soon.”

“No, I’m happy you came, Kirishima-kun. I want to talk more.”

“But you don’t look well.”

“Then I’ll lie down, so don’t leave yet, let’s keep chatting.”

Hayasaka-san lies on her bed and pulls the covers over herself. I ramble about what happened at school today, and she laughs happily. I mostly skip the details of my conversation with Maki after school, only mentioning that I got invited to a karaoke event when she says.

“I’m going to that, too.”

“Huh?”

Nozaki’s karaoke plan. It’s something our classmate Nozaki-kun organized because he lacks the courage to approach the girl he likes directly, so he’s planning to hang out in a group to get closer gradually. Not that I’m one to talk, but it’s pretty roundabout.

I think the girl is someone from the library committee.

“Why are you going, Hayasaka-san?”

“I got a message about it, too. The group’s gotten pretty big. I didn’t know you were going, Kirishima-kun, so I said I’d join once my cold’s better.”

“Maki’s just inviting everyone he can think of.”

“We’ll have to pretend we don’t know each other, right?”

“Yeah. If I acted close with you, Hayasaka-san, the other guys would beat me to a pulp.”

“Not that. This.”

Hayasaka-san shows me her phone screen. A group chat for the karaoke event has already been created. She points to one of the icons in the lineup.

“A bear? That’s some local mascot, right?”

“You don’t know who it is?”

“I don’t know anyone who looks like a bear.”

“Unlike the icon, she’s really beautiful. A high-class, special kind of girl.”

“No way.”

“Yup. That’s Tachibana-san’s icon. She’s coming.”

Hayasaka-san looks at me with her usual slightly troubled smile.

“Should I help with anything? To help you get closer to Tachibana-san?”

“You don’t need to do that.”

We’re not practice boyfriend and girlfriend, nor are we using each other as substitutes for someone else.

We’re a real couple. We’re just aware that we both have a number one.

Since being with our number one is difficult, we settled for second place.

Some might criticize treating love like an entrance exam.

So, we’re a little unhealthy.

“Good. I really like you, Kirishima-kun. If you’d asked me to help, it would’ve hurt a bit.”

Hayasaka-san, maybe because of the fever, is being unusually straightforward.

The conversation stalls. We’ve run out of things to talk about.

Alone in a girl’s room, with no one else in the house. It’s awfully quiet, and I can hear the ticking of the clock’s second hand. Before I start thinking anything weird, I stand up, saying, “Alright, I’m off.”

But before I can, Hayasaka-san speaks.

“Hey, Kirishima-kun, come here.”

Hayasaka-san says, lifting the covers.

“Let’s do the mere-exposure effect.”

She seemed really into holding hands yesterday. Fine, I’ll give her that much.

“But, Hayasaka-san, the way you’re set up, it looks like we’d be sleeping together……”

“And?”

She says it so seriously, it’s terrifying.

“I want to hold hands. Let’s get under the covers together.”

I don’t know if she’s temporarily lost her senses or if this is the real Hayasaka-san beneath her pure, pristine image. Either way—

“You’ve got a high fever. You’re not thinking straight at all.”

“That’s not true.”

“No, people’s cognitive abilities decline when they have a fever. The prefrontal cortex stops functioning properly.”

“Ugh, you’re overanalyzing again.”

“Besides, we don’t need to sleep together for me to hold your hand from outside the covers.”

“I don’t like that about you, Kirishima-kun.”

Hayasaka-san pouts but also seems to be enjoying this a little.

“Don’t you want to get under the covers with me, Kirishima-kun?”

“It’s not that I don’t, but it might not stop at just holding hands.”

“I…… I’m okay with that.”

“Hayasaka-san, calm down. There’s an order to these things—”

“Order? That’s just the image of love society decided, right? Good girls should follow the proper steps in romance. But you said it yourself, Kirishima-kun—let’s have a love that’s not bound by those things.”

That’s right.

We’re always trapped by some kind of image. You need to have dreams, more friends are better, people who are passionate about something are cool, staying devoted to one person forever is beautiful. We try to fit into those images, and when we can’t, it hurts.

For Hayasaka-san, it’s even worse—she’s completely bound by the image others expect of her.

So we decided that, at least when it comes to love, we’d do it our own clumsy way, without borrowing society’s values or images.

“Hey, Kirishima-kun, I don’t have to be a good girl in front of you, right? I don’t have to be the pure Hayasaka-san, right?”

Hayasaka-san’s expression, as she lifts the covers waiting for me, is strangely seductive.

“So, just get under the covers with me and hold my hand, okay?”

“……Alright.”

It’s not like I came to a girl’s room with zero expectations. Getting under the covers and holding hands—what’s the harm?

Steeling myself, I approach the bed.

Hayasaka-san, perhaps from the fever, is slightly sweaty, and I can feel the humid warmth radiating from her.

Her expectant, glistening eyes and pajamas clinging to her skin.

“No, this is definitely too much!”

I snap back to my senses and pull away from the bed. I almost got swept up in the moment.

“Ugh! We were so close.”

Hayasaka-san looks disappointed but doesn’t give up. She quickly gets a sly smile, as if she’s thought of something, and says.

“Then think of it as practice.”

“Practice?”

“For when you eventually get under the covers with Tachibana-san. Use me, your second choice, to practice.”

“No, that’s not fair to you, Hayasaka-san.”

Our relationship is second place, but it’s based on genuine feelings. We’re not doing this to fill the loneliness of not being with our number one. But—

“You say that, but there’s still a part of you that feels that way.”

Hayasaka-san says.

“So, use me for practice. Or am I not even attractive enough for that?”

“That’s not it……”

As I hesitate, Hayasaka-san presses further.

“My body’s getting cold.”

“Cover yourself with the blanket already.”

“If I stay like this, my cold might get worse.”

“Just cover up.”

“If I die, cry at my grave, okay?”

“You’re playing dirty, Hayasaka-san!”

She might actually keep the covers off like this, so I make up my mind and put a knee on the bed.

“Just holding hands, okay?”

“Yup, just holding hands. I promise.”

I cautiously slip under the covers. Hayasaka-san looks delighted.

As I lie down, Hayasaka-san pulls the covers over us.

“You don’t have to keep your body so far away.”

“Hayasaka-san, give me your hand.”

“Here.”

But I can’t quite find Hayasaka-san’s hand under the covers. As I fumble, my fingers accidentally slip into something soft.

“Hya~n!”

Hayasaka-san lets out a sweet yelp.

I quickly pull my hand back, saying, “Sorry!” The sensation lingering on my fingertips is the taut fabric and the soft feeling beneath it. I probably slipped between her thighs.

“Kirishima-kun…… you’re really bold, huh?”

Hayasaka-san says this with a shy expression.

“No, I was just trying to hold your hand!”

“Then hurry up and hold it.”

“I can’t tell where your hand is.”

“Here, right here.”

To find her hand, I shift closer to Hayasaka-san. That’s when it happens.

Skipping over hand-holding entirely, Hayasaka-san clings to me tightly, driven by pure emotion.

“What about the promise to just hold hands!?”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

Hayasaka-san’s body, pressing against me, is soft, warm, and slightly damp with sweat.

“Ehehe, I can smell Kirishima-kun.”

Her breath against my chest heats my skin.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.”

Her expression is tender, and the way she grips my uniform shirt feels almost desperate.

“Don’t you want to hold me, Kirishima-kun?”

“It’s not that I don’t.”

I’ve got both hands raised.

“If I hold you here, I might lose control.”

“I’m okay with that.”

Hayasaka-san is completely in the moment.

“When you heard Tachibana-san was coming to karaoke, you looked a little happy, Kirishima-kun.”

“……Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Tachibana-san’s beautiful, after all. She’s your number one. But I’ve got some advantages, too.”

“Like what?”

“My body.”

As she says this, she clings to me even tighter.

“Hey!?”

Hayasaka-san traps my leg between her thighs. She’s not wearing a bra under her pajamas, and yet she presses herself against me without hesitation, leaving me at a loss.

“You’re my boyfriend, Kirishima-kun, so you can do anything to me. I’d be happy no matter what you do.”

She says something outrageous.

“Hehe. I’m not being a good girl at all today, huh?”

Hayasaka-san seems to be enjoying this a little.

“But that’s okay, right? At school and at home, I’m always such a good girl. Did you know? If I wear slightly flashy clothes or say things like this, everyone gets so disappointed.”

Some people don’t just get disappointed—they get angry. They don’t want their image of me to break.

“In front of you, Kirishima-kun, I don’t have to be a good girl, right?”

“……That’s fine.”

“Then let’s do bad things together.”

Caught up in the moment, I end up wrapping my arms around Hayasaka-san’s body.

The scent of her hair, her breathing, and the feel of her body through the fabric of her pajamas.

Once I do that, I don’t want to let go.

Hayasaka-san slides her arms around my back, hooks her leg over me, and presses her entire body against mine.

“It’s like I’ve become yours, Kirishima-kun.”

“You’re letting your emotions get the better of you.”

“I want to get carried away even more.”

Her warm breath brushes against my chest.

Hayasaka-san holds me tightly, then softly, as if savoring the sensation.

“Hey, Kirishima-kun, make sure you remember how I feel. When you’re alone at night, think of me and feel lonely. I’ve memorized how you feel, too. From now on, every night, I’ll feel lonely without you next to me. It feels this good.”

“……Hayasaka-san, it’s about time.”

“I want to do more bad things.”

Hayasaka-san pushes me down and climbs on top of me. The way her chest presses against me is probably deliberate.

I’m no longer embarrassed or shy.

The moment we embraced, my rationality evaporated.

Doing this when we both have someone else we like might be wrong.

It might be a bad thing. But we chose this ourselves.

So I want to go as far as we can.

“Hey, Kirishima-kun, I want to give you my cold.”

“I’ve been thinking I might catch it for a while now.”

“You don’t mind?”

“If it’s your cold, Hayasaka-san, I don’t mind.”

“But, like, can you catch a cold just by hugging? Isn’t there a way to make it more likely to spread? Smart Kirishima-kun would know, right?”

Swept up in Hayasaka-san’s giddy atmosphere, I say without hesitation.

“Mucous membrane transmission.”

“Let’s do that.”

“Is that okay?”

“It’s fine.”

And so, Hayasaka-san and I kiss.

Her lips are soft, warm, and moist.

When we pull apart, a thread of saliva lingers.

“I think I like this. Mucous membrane transmission. But are we doing it right?”

“I don’t know.”

It’s my first time, too.

“Kirishima-kun, I want to do more.”

Carried away, we kiss again and again.

“More, more, keep going……”

Eventually, Hayasaka-san’s tongue slips into my mouth.

But her movements stop almost immediately. I can sense her hesitation, unsure of what to do next.

Hayasaka-san seems embarrassed despite initiating it, her bold words at odds with her tense body and tightly shut eyes.

To reassure her, I gently lick her tongue. Clumsily, she starts to mimic me, licking my tongue in return.

We hit walls and overcome them, escalating further and further.

It’s like we’re climbing into the air, stepping on each other’s feet.

I push Hayasaka-san’s tongue back and enter her mouth.

She seems short of breath but moves her tongue to welcome me. Her mouth is small, warm, wet, and softly constricting.

“Kirishima-kun, give me your saliva.”

We exchange saliva.

The wet, smacking sounds reach my ears, and it excites us even more.

Doing something improper feels so good.

As second choices dating each other, we want to do even more reckless things.

Things people would scold us for, things that would make them frown.

We want to be the most immoral, naughtiest kids.

Driven by surging impulses, I find myself pinning Hayasaka-san down.

Her pajamas are disheveled, her chest exposed.

For a moment, we lock eyes, and Hayasaka-san says.

“It’s okay.”

That’s what she says.

This is probably a huge step for a girl, so I hold back my eagerness, carefully and gently reaching for the buttons of her pajamas.

But the next moment, I notice Hayasaka-san’s expression stiffen. Despite saying it’s okay, she might not be emotionally ready. So I stop and pull back.

“Sorry, I might’ve rushed things. I should’ve been more considerate, but I’ve never done this before either……”

“That’s not it.” Hayasaka-san says with an awkward expression.

“It’s not your fault, Kirishima-kun. I feel the same way. But—”

“Sorry.” she says, hiding her face with a pillow.

“……I ended up thinking of my number one.”

 

♥♥♥

 

“Going too far probably isn’t good, right?”

Hayasaka-san says, fixing her untidy clothes.

“After all, we both have someone else we like.”

“Yeah.”

Since then, we’ve cooled off, sitting properly on the bed.

Just as I have Tachibana-san, Hayasaka-san has her own number one.

The feeling of being second favorite is precious, but until we reach a conclusion with our number one loves, crossing that line feels hesitant.

“Maybe because we’re second.”

Hayasaka-san says.

“I can be so bold. If it was my number one, I’d try to be a better girl and probably wouldn’t be able to do anything. But that’s not good, right? It’s not fair to you, Kirishima-kun.”

There’s definitely a certain ease that comes with being second. So.

“We should add a rule.”

When we decided to date as second choices, we made two rules.

First, we can’t let our number one crushes know we’re dating.

Second, if either of us gets to date their number one, our relationship ends.

In other words, we prioritize our number one.

Because if you can be with your number one, there’s nothing better than that.

“What kind of rule should we add?”

“……No going beyond kissing.”

“Yeah, that’s probably best.”

We’re unhealthy, but we don’t want to treat each other cheaply.

“Alright, I’m heading out.”

“Wait a sec.”

As I get ready to leave, Hayasaka-san shows me her phone. It’s the group chat for the karaoke event. There’s one new icon—an American comic book hero.

“Whose icon is that?”

“Tachibana-san’s boyfriend. Looks like he’s joining.”

“Oh, okay.”

We’re in the same grade, so it makes sense.

“You okay with that, Kirishima-kun?”

If I go, I’ll see Tachibana-san and her boyfriend being all lovey-dovey. But.

“Totally fine. Actually, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Says the guy who’s trembling.”

I feel cold. My vision’s getting blurry. Maybe I caught a cold, too.

“If it gets canceled that day, let’s meet up somewhere no one will see us.”

Hayasaka-san hugs me from behind.

“I’ll comfort you tons.”

 

♥♥♥

 

The weekend arrives, and a decent crowd gathers for the karaoke. Few know it’s for Nozaki-kun’s love interest. Most think it’s just a fun event.

Just past noon, about twenty people meet at the station. I was worried about the size, but Maki efficiently guides everyone to a party room.

I sit down without thinking, but after checking everyone’s positions, I move next to Maki.

“Hayasaka’s super popular, huh?”

As I settle in, Maki whispers.

“She’s getting swarmed.”

Sure enough, guys have firmly taken the seats on both sides of Hayasaka-san.

She’s like the princess of the group.

“What songs are you gonna sing, Hayasaka-san?”

“Your casual clothes are cute.”

“Want me to grab something from the drink bar?”

Even people across from her are talking, and Hayasaka-san shrinks into herself.

“……Um, I, uh, well, haha—”

In front of everyone, Hayasaka-san becomes shy, only managing nervous laughs.

She really seems like a doll. But I know the real Hayasaka-san—the one who wants to hold hands, who initiates tongue kisses, who begs for more.

“Those guys went all out with their outfits,” Maki says.

“They’re stealing the spotlight from the main guy, Nozaki-kun.”

“You’re doing great, Kirishima. Keeping it nice and plain.”

“……Uh, yeah, sure.”

I thought I dressed normally, but okay.

By the way, Maki adds.

“Hayasaka’s seriously an angel, huh? Being nice even to those obviously sleazy guys.”

“She might actually find it annoying, you know.”

“Really? She seems so open, I’m worried she’ll get caught by some weird guy.”

“That’s just how she looks.”

“Whoa, you’re getting defensive. Wanna sit next to Hayasaka or something?”

“That’s not it.”

“Right. Your type’s over there.”

Amid the noisy room, one girl is calmly operating the song selector with a cool expression.

It’s Tachibana-san.

She’s effortlessly rocking a sleeveless dress, sitting with perfect posture.

“Even the guys don’t dare approach her.”

“No way they would.”

Tachibana-san is seated by the wall, and next to her is her boyfriend. He’s a fresh-faced, dazzling guy—probably from a wealthy family. Decent build, no glasses.

In other words, the complete opposite of me.

“He’s guarding her like that—it’s kinda annoying.”

“It’s natural for her boyfriend to sit next to her. I’m insanely jealous, though.”

As we’re talking, Tachibana-san suddenly looks up.

Our eyes meet—hers like glasswork—and I instinctively look down.

“Kirishima, why’re you looking away? Burn her into your retinas.”

“Nah, I can see her anytime if I need to.”

“Through her boyfriend’s account, right?”

Tachibana-san’s boyfriend posts pictures of her on social media every day. Low security awareness.

“You check it a lot, huh? It’s just him showing off.”

“I don’t know why. It makes my chest ache, but I can’t stop looking every day.”

“That’s twisted.”

But are those two actually doing okay? Maki says.

“A girl I know told me about the seaside school trip we had recently.”

Apparently, at night, the girls in their room had some love talk.

That’s when Tachibana-san, with a straight face, asked her roommates.

“‘What does it feel like to have your heart race?’ she said.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Once the karaoke starts, it’s a tough scene.

I can’t help but look at Tachibana-san, but she’s singing songs her boyfriend requested, and when he’s singing, she’s clapping along.

What is this?

Why do I have to watch the girl I like in a scene like this?

Tachibana-san’s expression remains blank as always. But she probably smiles when it’s just her and her boyfriend.

Feeling reckless, I sing a heartbreak song.

While I’m singing, Tachibana-san keeps fiddling with the song selector.

She doesn’t look at me or clap.

It’s pathetic. When I finish, everyone gives awkward, hesitant reactions. Guess I was pretty bad. Amid that, one girl speaks up timidly.

“I-I thought it was good!”

It’s Hayasaka-san.

“It was, like, unique or avant-garde. It made me realize there’s that kind of interpretation, too!”

I wish she hadn’t been convinced.

More attention gathers on the fact that Hayasaka-san defended me.

Why is Hayasaka-san sticking up for Kirishima?

That’s the question everyone seems to be feeling.

Hayasaka-san notices and hurriedly waves both hands.

“No, it’s not like that! I just meant that even bad singing can sound kinda cool once you get used to it. Kirishima-kun’s singing was, well, definitely like a pig’s squeal, right?”

Yes, that’s it, Hayasaka-san.

We can’t let everyone know about our relationship. But you’ve never heard a pig squeal, have you?

“Kirishima, you’re a good guy.”

Maki slaps my back.

“You sang badly on purpose, didn’t you?”

“……Yeah. Makes Nozaki-kun look better, right? It was all intentional.”

While talking, I fiddle with my phone and send Hayasaka-san a message.

Just act like we’re strangers.

If our relationship gets exposed and reaches Hayasaka-san’s number one, it’d be a disaster.

Hayasaka-san notices the message, looks up, and makes an “OK” sign with her fingers.

A reply comes, too: Tachibana-san’s here, after all.

After everyone’s had a turn singing, a casual chat session begins.

Someone suggests talking about first loves. It’s a classic topic to liven things up.

A talkative guy shares a funny, entertaining story.

When my turn comes, I talk about something from elementary school.

“During summer break, I stayed at a relative’s house for about a week. I got close with a girl who lived nearby—”

She was a beautiful girl, and my mind was completely filled with thoughts of her.

In other words, I fell in love. My first love.

We played together in the park every day, and I was happy. But one day, I saw her playing closely with another boy, and my chest tightened. I ended up saying.

“I don’t want you to be close with other boys.”

Now I know that was jealousy. But back then, I didn’t understand the emotions welling up inside me and couldn’t control them.

“She must’ve hated it. From the next day, she stopped coming to the park.”

A bittersweet tale of first love failure. I present it as something to laugh at, and it gets a decent reaction.

I glance at Tachibana-san, but she’s unresponsive and expressionless. No particular thoughts, it seems.

Some girls, partly to keep the mood up, tease me jokingly.

“Guys getting jealous is so lame.” “Ew.” “Gross!”

Yeah, yeah, I get it. I think so, too.

But one girl doesn’t approve of their comments.

“……It’s not gross.”

It’s Hayasaka-san.

“……I’d be jealous, too, if the person I liked was close with someone else.”

She’s defending me again, but this time, attention shifts to her words: I’d be jealous if the person I liked was close with someone else.

“Hayasaka-san, you have someone you like?”

“Have you ever been jealous?”

“I want Hayasaka-san to be jealous of me!”

Bombarded with questions from the guys, Hayasaka-san’s eyes spin.

“L-L-L-Like someone? I-I don’t really get that stuff!”

She’s unintentionally giving a pure-idol-like response.

“Hey, guys, you’re being too pushy!”

The girls raise their voices.

“No more questions! Talk to her manager first!”

They start teasing the guys, and things get lively.

Still, Hayasaka-san’s being clumsier than usual, and I’m a bit worried.

I send another message.

Don’t worry about me!

Hayasaka-san sees it and makes an exaggerated “OK!” gesture with her fingers.

Reacting so openly toward me shows she’s totally not getting it.

While we’re being sneaky like this, a female classmate suddenly speaks to me.

“By the way, Kirishima, you’re in the Mystery Research Club, right?”

I’ve been quiet, so she’s probably trying to include me. She mentions that her older brother is an alumnus of our school and a former member of the club.

“You could probably charm that first love girl now, huh?”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause the Mystery Research Club has that, right? The love manual.”

“Oh, you mean the Love Notebook.”

The club once had a senior who wanted to write a mystery novel with a romance theme.

He focused on the three elements of a mystery: How, Who, and Why.

How the crime was committed, who did it, and why.

He applied this to romance.

How: How to make someone fall for you.

Who: Who you like.

Why: Why you like them.

He meant to write a romance mystery, but thanks to teenage impulsiveness, he ended up creating a secret tome solely about studying love. That’s the Love Notebook, passed down through the club.

“It’s got stuff about how to woo girls, right?”

That’s the “How” section of the Love Notebook. The mere-exposure effect was in there, too.

“My brother said the guy who made it was a genius with an IQ of 180.”

“Hard to believe.”

There’s some research based on psychology and behavioral science, but also a lot of ridiculous stuff.

“Wait, what? There’s a love manual book?”

Another guy overhears and joins the conversation.

“Kirishima, you’re reading that? That’s hilarious.”

The combo of me and romance seems funny to him. The topic picks up steam.

“Reading a manual is trying way too hard.”

“If you’re researching, shouldn’t you try to look a bit cooler?”

“Reading a book doesn’t change your face, dude.”

I get teased quite a bit. Since I usually play up my scrawny glasses-guy persona, this is par for the course. No one means any harm.

But one girl doesn’t like this flow of treating me as the awkward character.

“……That’s not true.”

Of course, it’s Hayasaka-san. My messages clearly aren’t getting through.

She mutters softly, but in the next moment, she speaks in a tone stronger than I’ve ever heard from her.

“Kirishima-kun isn’t uncool at all!”

She’s gripping the hem of her skirt tightly.

Realizing the room has gone silent, she hurriedly tries to cover.

“No, I mean, not like that. You don’t have to go that far, but being serious about love feels earnest, and Kirishima-kun’s appearance is, like, totally normal……”

Hayasaka-san runs out of words, fidgets, and then.

“I like that about Kirishima-kun……”

This is really bad. Hayasaka-san’s panicking too much.

Naturally, the room erupts.

“Wait, did she just say she likes Kirishima?”

“For real? No way, right?”

Who Hayasaka-san likes is the guys’ biggest concern.

Deny it quick.

Too impatient to use my phone, I plead with my eyes. Hayasaka-san nods vigorously.

“Um, no, it’s not like that. Saying I like Kirishima-kun was, like, I like his character……”

A girl reacts to Hayasaka-san’s words.

“Ugh, you guys are way too clingy! She obviously meant ‘like’ without any romantic feelings. Like how an actress likes a comedian, right?”

One of the girls asks, and Hayasaka-san nods, “Y-Yeah, something like that……”

“Right? Kirishima’s all serious but has a fun vibe, like a comedian.”

“……Yeah…… I think he’s funny.”

“Wanna have him do something?”

“Huh?”

“Akane-chan, any comedy bits you want Kirishima to do?”

“……What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hayasaka-san’s face goes blank. She looks down, her eyes shadowed, and starts muttering softly.

“Everyone treats Kirishima-kun like that…… but I don’t care about any of you. Kirishima-kun’s more…… Kirishima-kun’s the only one who……”

The atmosphere feels dangerous, like she’s about to say something serious.

Everyone senses the unusual vibe from Hayasaka-san and looks unsure of what to do.

I’m the only one who can fix this. So—

“Hayasaka, give it to me!”

I say with maximum energy.

“Give me a setup! I’m dying to make everyone laugh right now!”

“W-Wha—?”

Hayasaka-san lets out a confused sound.

“K-Kirishima-kun, is that your thing?”

“Yeah!”

Hayasaka-san got a bit carried away emotionally. Seeing me get teased—it’s just normal banter, but she’s frustrated with everyone imposing their image on her, and she got upset for my sake, too.

Either way, I’m going to hype up the room and gloss over everything.

“So give me the best setup right now!”

“E-Even if you say that—”

Hayasaka-san’s eyes start spinning, but my energy pulls her along, and her expression brightens. That’s good.

“Anything’s fine! But you can go a little easy on me if you want!”

That’s my real thought. A slight flop is okay, but a crazy challenge would be trouble.

“Umm, umm,” Hayasaka-san groans.

I’m sure she gets my intent, but she’s way clumsier than I expected.

“Um…… how about a rap?”

That’s a wild one.

Has she ever sensed even a hint of hip-hop from me?

Hayasaka-san looks flustered, as if saying, Was that bad? Huh? What? She’s totally clueless. Come on, there had to be something safer.

But I’m in it now. I steel myself.

“No need for music, right!”

Maki, sensing the awkward vibe, jumps in with perfect support.

Freestyle rap, huh? Alright, that’ll do.

I grab the mic myself and say.

“One guy, acapella battle, Kirishima’s gonna do it, gonna sing it.”

Two, two, mic check, mic check, ah, ah.

“The girl I like’s into Suda Masaki, I can’t be like him, just spouting chatter, no glee. They might think I’m a dull guy, heart’s in a flurry. Love’s torment got me shook, she’s silent, no worry. Grabbed this mic to make ’em laugh, that’s my story!”

Everyone jumps on board.

“Glasses rap!”

“He’s so into it!”

“Way too good for no reason!”

A fun atmosphere fills the room.

People stop caring that Hayasaka-san said she liked me or defended me.

For the sake of Hayasaka-san’s number one love, this is fine.

For good measure, I queue up a tough karaoke song and sang it badly on purpose.

If everyone teases me cleanly afterward, everything will be back to normal.

It’s all my doing.

But while singing, Tachibana-san catches my eye, and I feel a pang of sadness.

Clowning around in front of my number one girl is a bit tough.

Tachibana-san looks at me with her usual blank expression. I can’t read her emotions, but there’s no way she thinks I’m cool. Someone stop me already. That’s what I think.

At least laugh, maybe?

No, that’s not it.

The kind of emotion I want from Tachibana-san isn’t that.

I want her to think of me the way I think of her.

Searching for her back at the station, following her with my eyes in the school hallway, feeling my chest ache before bed. This place is so far from that.

But whatever, she’s got a boyfriend, and he’s sitting right next to her. In a situation like this, looking cool or not doesn’t even matter.

Resigning myself to play the hype guy, that’s when it happens.

Someone presses the stop button.

Hayasaka-san, you did it again—

I think, trying to figure out how to follow up.

But it wasn’t Hayasaka-san who pressed the stop button. It was someone far more unexpected.

Someone who hadn’t joined the conversation, who’d seemed indifferent to everything—

Tachibana Hikari.

 

♥♥♥

 

“This kind of vibe isn’t good.”

Tachibana-san says firmly.

With her special aura, the room falls silent, everyone waiting for her next words.

Tachibana-san, as if her job is done, starts sipping her melon soda.

But since no one speaks, she adds one last thing.

“Some people don’t like it, so I think you should stop.”

Tachibana-san doesn’t say who, trying to let the topic slide.

But everyone instinctively looks at Hayasaka-san.

Hayasaka-san is sinking, her face dark.

I messed up, I think. I was so focused on smoothing things over that I didn’t notice Hayasaka-san. And she wasn’t okay with me being pushed into the clown role in the first place.

“Sorry, somehow.”

Feeling the stares, Hayasaka-san forces a smile and says hurriedly.

“It’s just, I’m not great with this kind of thing, or, like……”

She tries her usual polite laugh, but it doesn’t last. Her face darkens again.

Finally, she presses her bangs down, hiding her expression.

“I’m no good today. My cold’s probably not gone yet. I’m heading home.”

She grabs her bag, stands, and reaches for the door handle.

“Tachibana-san, sorry for making you worry.”

With that, head down, she bolts out of the room.

Everyone is stunned.

“Wasn’t Hayasaka-san, like, totally backing Kirishima all day?”

The guy next to Hayasaka-san says, looking shocked.

“It was almost like she likes Kirishima or something.”

“I don’t think so.”

I say.

“Hayasaka-san’s just kind, so she ends up saying stuff like that.”

Yeah, she’s an angel, huh?

She can’t help but lift someone up when they’re being put down.

The guys nod, relieved.

“My sister’s calling.”

I use that excuse to leave the room. I glance back one last time.

Tachibana-san is fiddling with the song selector, her face as if nothing happened.

 

♥♥♥

 

In the evening streets, Hayasaka-san is walking down an alley off the main road.

“Sorry.”

As soon as she sees me catching up, Hayasaka-san looks down.

“I couldn’t act smoothly at all.”

Hayasaka-san presses her bangs to hide her expression.

“I knew it was a joke, but I hated how they were treating you lightly, Kirishima-kun. Was I a bother?”

“Not at all. I was happy.”

“But chasing after me was a mistake. To Tachibana-san, it might look like you like me.”

I wonder. Tachibana-san wasn’t even looking at me in the first place. And—

“That’s the truth. I do like you, Hayasaka-san.”

“As your second.”

“Being second means I like you a lot.”

“Yeah.”

Hayasaka-san stretches with an “Ahh.”

“I wanted to help you, Kirishima-kun, but Tachibana-san stole the show.”

“It looked like she was helping you.”

“No, she was helping you. I can tell. Were you happy?”

“Even if that’s true, Tachibana-san has a boyfriend.”

My number one love has no prospects for now.

“Still, you really like Tachibana-san, don’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You were staring at her the whole time at karaoke.”

“I don’t recall.”

“Playing dumb, huh? You kept watching her and got more and more depressed.”

Hayasaka-san giggles. My behavior at karaoke must’ve been amusing.

“You got too bummed out just because Tachibana-san put a straw in her boyfriend’s cup. Guys who don’t care get that treatment, too. I do it myself.”

Right, Hayasaka-san put a straw in the cup of the guy next to her, too.

“Seeing that made me feel down again.”

“Oh, really? You were properly jealous.”

Hayasaka-san seems somewhat pleased.

“I couldn’t help you, but as promised, I’ll comfort you.”

Hayasaka-san steps closer but stops just short, looking at her toes and tapping her heels.

“I’m feeling kinda shy today. Wonder why.”

“You don’t have to force it.”

“No, I want to do it for you, Kirishima-kun. It’s really calming.”

Even so, Hayasaka-san stays frozen, her face red.

So this time, I’m the one who hugs her.

“Kirishima-kun.”

Hayasaka-san’s arms wrap around my back. It really does calm me down. I feel so happy.

Just as I’m thinking that, Hayasaka-san closes her eyes and tilts her face up.

I thought she meant a hug, but it seems she had something else in mind.

“Tastes like melon soda.”

After the kiss, Hayasaka-san says this. With an “Ehehe” and a clingy expression, she presses her face into my chest.

“You’re getting hooked on hugging, Hayasaka-san.”

“Yeah, I love this.”

We stay like that for a while.

“Sorry I’m not your number one, Kirishima-kun.”

“It’s fine.”

I’m the same way.

 

♥♥♥

 

A few days later.

Nozaki-kun successfully started dating the girl he likes. Surprisingly, she liked him back.

The fact that two number ones got together was a bit of a shock. But on the flip side, it means those who liked Nozaki-kun or the girl got their hearts broken.

It’s still true that dating your number one is hard.

So, Hayasaka-san and I dating as second choices is a very practical decision.

Dating as second choices limits the outcomes to four possibilities.

Both of us date our number ones.

Neither of us dates our number ones.

Only I date my number one.

Only Hayasaka-san dates her number one.

If we both date our number ones, we’re happy. If neither of us does, we officially become a couple, which is also happy.

The only time I end up with no one is if Hayasaka-san dates her number one. Conversely, the only time Hayasaka-san ends up with no one is if I date my number one.

So, for both of us, only one of the four outcomes is unhappy. The other three lead to happiness.

The 25% Heartbreak Probability Method.

I named it and decided to record it in the Love Notebook.

Compared to confessing like a gamble and spiraling into despair after rejection, this method has a higher chance of happiness. It’s groundbreaking.

It’ll surely spread worldwide like Murphy’s Law someday.

Thinking about this, I was working on the Love Notebook that day.

It was after school in the clubroom on the second floor of the old school building.

I noticed the piano wasn’t playing next door when my name was suddenly called.

“Kirishima-kun.”

Looking up, I saw a girl standing at the entrance.

It was Tachibana-san.

Up close, her pale complexion is like a summer mirage. But she was real.

“Um—”

Tachibana-san tilts her head, about to say something.

“Sorry, I forgot what I was going to say.”

Tachibana-san’s so laid-back.

“Wanna sit for now?”

“No, I’m about to start piano practice.”

“Oh, okay.”

“At karaoke the other day.”

Tachibana-san says suddenly, her tone a bit curt.

“You were good at singing.”

“Was I?”

“You were trying to harmonize in the low register, right?”

Sure, let’s go with that.

“That day, when you first came in, you sat next to the library committee girl. You were saving a spot for Nozaki-kun, right? I heard they started dating, so I figured out what you were doing.”

I did make sure Nozaki-kun sat next to the girl he liked. Tachibana-san noticed.

“You do stuff like that, huh?”

“Doing something for someone else feels pretty good.”

“Was playing the clown for Hayasaka-san’s sake?”

“What do you mean?”

“Whatever.”

Did she come here to talk about karaoke? But Tachibana-san doesn’t leave. As if remembering, she pulls a folded piece of paper from her chest pocket.

“Right. I meant to give you this.”

Tachibana-san hands me the paper. When I take it, my fingers brush her slender, pale ones. They’re a bit cold.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

I unfold the paper. Written in beautiful handwriting is a name.

Club application. Mystery Research Club. Second Year, Class Six. Tachibana Hikari.

I’m too stunned to speak. Is this for real?

“So, uh, what’s this about?”

“Exactly what it says. Is there a problem?”

Tachibana-san’s gaze doesn’t waver. Her beautiful irises hold an undeniable force.

“No…… no problem at all.”

When I say that, Tachibana-san nods, “Good.”

“Starting tomorrow, take care of me, Club President.”

She’s as calm as ever. What’s her deal?

“By the way, Tachibana-san, this application’s wrong.”

“Is it?”

“Here, it says ‘Research Society’ instead of ‘Research Club.’”

“You’re picky, President.”

“I’m Type A, after all.”