I'll be honest. Between trying to survive that stupid bet and pushing my music everywhere I could, most of my energy went into the mixtape and the tour.
Two months left on the wager with the manager. I could feel the momentum building—streams climbing, people talking, my first interview making waves.
But labels? Still cautious. Watching from a distance.
And somewhere in the middle of all that, my grades quietly fell off a cliff.
One cold October afternoon, I was eating lunch with Yamashita on the rooftop. The wind cut through the air, sharp and dry.
She sat across from me, holding her lunch neatly in her hands.
"Um… Shiba-kun," she said softly. "Your grades are… a little worrying."
She fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve, like she wasn't entirely comfortable bringing it up.
"If you don't mind," she continued gently, "I would like to help you study for the midterms."
I didn't mind. The problem was time.
Between school, the bar, and everything else… weekdays were basically dead zones.
Still, if Yamashita helped me, I'd probably scrape by.
I'm not stupid. Just lazy.
"Uh… sure. Thanks," I said, scratching the back of my head. "Weekdays are rough, though. I've got my part-time job."
I paused, thinking it through.
"Unless we ditch lunch sometimes and study at the library," I added with a small shrug.
Then I let out a quiet sigh.
"Weekends are open, though. You could drop by my place."
Yamashita blinked, clearly not expecting that answer.
"Y-Your place?" she repeated softly.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her lunchbox as she thought it over, glasses slipping a little down her nose.
"I… I suppose that could work," she said after a moment, voice careful and composed again. "As long as we actually study."
She looked up at me, expression gentle but a little firm.
"And the library during lunch would probably be a good idea too. Even thirty minutes a day can help a lot."
A small pause.
"…Thank you for trusting me with this, Shiba-kun."
Against my better judgment, I reached over and patted her on the head.
"Hey, I should be thanking you for helping me out," I said casually. "You're a good friend."
Yamashita completely froze.
Her shoulders went stiff, chopsticks locked mid-air like her brain just short-circuited. A faint shade of red spread across her cheeks, climbing all the way to her ears.
"S-Shiba-kun…!" she squeaked, fumbling to adjust her glasses with shaky fingers. "P-Please don't just… do that out of nowhere…"
She ducked her head a little, trying to regain her composure, but the blush stayed on her cheeks.
"People might… misunderstand…" she added quietly.
She didn't move away, though.
Yamashita Rika was dangerously cute.
Sometimes she made me want to simp a little… other times I just wanted to tease the hell out of her.
She kept her head lowered for a moment, still a little red, fingers nervously adjusting her glasses again.
"Still… I'm happy you consider me a friend," she said softly.
Her voice wavered just a little.
"I thought I n-needed to ask if it was alright for us to be… f-friends."
I blinked at that.
Leave it to Yamashita to treat friendship like it needed formal approval paperwork.
"You're cute," I said flatly.
The reaction was immediate.
Yamashita's head snapped up, eyes wide behind her glasses like I'd just dropped a bomb on the rooftop. The blush that had barely settled came roaring back twice as strong.
"C-Cute—?!" she stammered.
Her hands flew up instinctively, nearly knocking over her lunchbox before she caught it at the last second.
"S-Shiba-kun, you can't just say things like that so casually!" she protested, voice small but frantic, glasses slipping again as she tried to fix them.
She looked away quickly, cheeks still burning.
"T-That's… very embarrassing…" she muttered under her breath, clearly trying—and failing—to pull her usual class-president composure back together.
"Relax," I said, rolling my eyes. "I just like seeing you flustered a little. You're way better when you act like yourself… not when you're doing the whole perfect class president routine."
Yamashita went still for a moment.
Then she slowly pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, trying very hard to look composed again—though the blush refused to go anywhere.
"I-I am acting like myself," she protested quietly.
A small pause.
"…Usually."
She glanced at me briefly before looking away again, lips pressing into a small, embarrassed smile.
"You're just… very difficult to deal with sometimes, Shiba-kun."
"Yet you like dealing with the delinquent," I deadpanned.
Yamashita's composure cracked again almost instantly.
"I-I never said that!" she blurted out, then immediately realized how loud that sounded.
Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, eyes darting around the rooftop like someone might have heard.
A second later, she lowered her hands slowly, cheeks pink again.
"I mean… that's not what I meant," she corrected herself softly, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. "You're not a delinquent, Shiba-kun. Your grades might be… concerning, but that doesn't make you a bad student."
She hesitated, then added in a quieter voice, "And… helping a friend isn't something I dislike."
I sighed.
"I get it, princess. Seriously, quit being so formal. Just… relax," I added.
Yamashita's lips curved into a small, shy smile, and before I could react, she leaned in and pinched my nose.
Wait—what?
"W-what was that for?" I muttered, half in protest, half in disbelief.
Yamashita's cheeks flushed red, but she didn't back down.
"I-I just wanted to," she said, her voice soft, almost sheepish. "You're always so… serious. It's nice to see you react."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Wow. That's your grand strategy? Pinch my nose to get under my skin?"
She bit her lip, trying not to grin too much.
"I-It's… effective," she admitted quietly, eyes flickering with a mix of mischief and nerves.
"Y-yeah… it was," I muttered, shaking my head.
The bell rang, slicing through the moment.
"Now let's get back, shall we?" I said, straightening up.
Yamashita blinked, then gave a small, shy smile.
"Y-Yeah… let's go. We don't want the teacher to see us standing around," she murmured, glancing toward the classroom with a nervous little laugh.
And so, we slipped back inside.
The classroom was its usual brand of meaningless chatter. No one even blinked when Yamashita and I walked in together.
Well… almost no one.
Inazuki, lounging with the popular girls, raised an eyebrow at me, a smirk playing on her lips. Suzuki was there too—her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at Yamashita.
I rolled my eyes.
Before I could slip into my seat, my phone rang.
Kurumi.
I blinked at the screen a second too long before picking up.
"Don't you, like, have classes or something?," I asked as soon as the line connected.
"Rude, rapper boy~ You think I'd actually care about class over checking up on you? You didn't answer my messages, I got worried… don't make me come over and drag you out myself," she sang, voice teasing, playful, a little dangerous.
A pause.
The teacher would walk in soon, so I had to move. My classmates were already staring, murmuring like I was the main act. "Who is this guy talking to in the middle of class?".
Mori's voice cut through the buzz: "It's Shiba… what else did you expect?"
Kurumi didn't care.
"Besides… you just wanted an excuse to ditch class, didn't you~," she teased, unbothered, almost mocking.
I sighed, sliding toward the door.
"Maybe," I admitted. "And for the 'ghosting' thing—don't take it personally. I spent all day on the floor, and my phone screen cracked."
She didn't miss a beat.
"Mhm, right. Cry me a river, rapper boy~"
Fucking bitch...
"I'm hanging up," I said flatly, ending the call as I slipped out of class, ignoring the whispers and stares behind me.
I'm no one's punching bag. Fuck it.
It's always, "You're so fucking dramatic, Shiba." Never, "You okay, Takumi?"
Fuck you. All of you.
How far do I have to run just to get some peace?
Feet carrying me to the rooftop, I lit a cigarette, watching Matsumoto stretch beneath me.
I'd have to escape this place before I could even think about leaving Japan.
Hands barely holding the phone, I thought about throwing it on the asphalt.
Then I saw a class lining up for PE and figured… not worth it.
Just as I thought about it, I heard footsteps climbing the stairs. I braced myself for a teacher ready to chew me out, but then—
"Oof, he doesn't understand me at all. That fucking idiot…!" a girl's voice rang out, a little too loud for comfort.
Probably her boyfriend.
She stepped onto the rooftop, and I finally got a good look at her.
Third-year uniform. Bleached strawberry-red hair. Light makeup, pink lipstick. Soft green eyes—widening the moment they landed on me.
The mysterious senpai froze in place.
"—You heard that?!" she blurted, eyes going wide.
A beat.
Her face flushed almost instantly, hand flying up to her mouth like she could shove the words back in.
"…Don't answer that. You definitely heard that," she muttered.
"Hey, if it helps, I came up here to cool off after some problems with my girlfriend too… so, cheers, I guess," I said flatly.
She blinked, then scoffed, crossing her arms.
"…Wow. 'Cheers,' he says," she muttered, still a little red.
A beat.
"Don't lump me in with you, okay? I'm not out here having girlfriend problems," she shot back, a bit too quickly—like she was trying to convince herself.
Her eyes flicked away.
"…It's not like that."
"Yeah… I don't really think I care," I said, failing to suppress a yawn.
She blinked, then frowned, clearly taken aback.
"…Wow. You're kind of an asshole, huh?" she shot back, hands planting on her hips.
A beat.
"Seriously, who says that after eavesdropping on someone's breakdown?" she added, irritated.
"Like 'don't lump me in with you' isn't rude," I said, rolling my eyes. "Seriously… fuck that. You people always act like you're above everyone else, like I'm supposed to just bend over and take it."
She stared at me for a second, caught off guard.
"…The hell is your problem?" she shot back, frowning.
A beat.
"I wasn't acting superior, I was just—" she cut herself off, clicking her tongue.
"…God, you're seriously intense," she muttered, running a hand through her hair, theatrically.
"Are you done?," I asked, face blank.
She blinked, clearly not expecting that.
"…Wow. You really don't waste time, huh," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "…Yeah. I'm done. Happy?"
"Nope. I'm not," I said flatly.
She paused, some of the edge slipping from her expression.
"…Then what do you want?" she asked, quieter this time, eyes narrowing slightly—more curious than hostile.
"To turn my brain off for a second," I replied, taking a drag from the cigarette that started burning on its own.
She watched me for a second, the irritation fading into something quieter.
"…That's it?" she asked, tilting her head. "…You pick fights with strangers just to clear your head?"
Her eyes landed on the cigarette.
"…And the smoking? Seriously, are you always this delinquent?" she asked, voice half exasperated, half amused.
"Yes. And yes," I replied, taking one last drag before flicking it off into the air.
She scoffed, crossing her arms.
"Ugh, seriously, kouhai… you're being way too irresponsible. Smoking at your age?
You're supposed to think before doing stupid stuff like that. Take it from me, as your more mature senpai—you better quit before it becomes a habit."
Uh huh.
"Thanks for the advice, Senpai. But if doing the right thing just gets me in trouble… I'd rather be irresponsible," I said, flat.
She blinked, then let out a soft, amused sigh.
"Ugh… you're impossible," she muttered, shaking her head. "Fine. What's your name, delinquent-kun?"
"Shiba. Shiba Takumi. Yours?"
"Nishino Yuka," she said, tilting her head. "Your Senpai. You better remember that."
She winked as soon as she finished.
...Cringe.
Before I could react, Nishino-senpai stepped closer, reaching out and ruffling my hair like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Hm. You're kinda cute, you know that?" she said, smirking.
A beat. Her fingers lingered for a second before she pulled back.
"…Too bad your personality's a mess," she added casually.
What the fuck? So, she likes me or she dislikes me? Pick one, you immature senpai.
"Alright… let's say I'm intrigued. What's got Senpai ranting to herself on a stairway?" I asked.
She clicked her tongue, folding her arms.
"Wow, you've got some nerve, kouhai," she shot back, though her gaze slipped away for a second. "…It's nothing. Just some idiot who doesn't know how to listen," she muttered.
Then her eyes locked onto mine.
"Why do you care, anyway?"
"You look like you could use a vent. I mean, you'll probably go complain to your girls later anyway, but… I don't know. Maybe I just want to hear a voice that's not in my head," I said with a sigh.
She blinked, clearly not expecting that.
"…Wow. That's… kind of depressing," she said, a little quieter this time. "…And rude. 'Your girls'? I don't just dump my problems on people like that."
A pause.
"…But whatever. If you're that desperate to hear someone talk, I guess I can spare you a few minutes," she sighed, like she was doing me a favor.
Senpai clicked her tongue, looking away.
"…It's nothing serious. He just—" she stopped, frowning.
A beat.
"…I was talking to him, right? Like, actually talking. And he just goes 'yeah, yeah, I get it' without even looking at me," she muttered, irritation creeping back in. "Like—what's the point of even saying anything if you're not gonna listen?"
I sighed.
"Hey, at least you didn't say something serious and get hit with a 'cry me a river, rapper boy.' But… yeah. I guess we both deserve better," I said with a sigh.
Nishino-senpai blinked, the edge in her expression softening a little.
"…Yeah," she said, quieter this time.
A beat.
"…Wait. 'Rapper boy'?" she added, curiosity slipping in despite herself.
Fuck. I slipped.
"Eh. I rap sometimes. Nothing big," I said, scratching the back of my head.
Before Nishino-senpai could say anything, I cut in—
"Anyway… your boyfriend's kind of an asshole."
Her eyes snapped back to me.
"Hey—don't call him that," she shot back immediately. "…He's just—"
Her gaze dropped for a second before she exhaled.
"…Yeah. Well. He can be," she muttered, quieter.
Then, Nishino-senpai shot me a look.
"And your girlfriend sounds worse," she fired back. "Who listens to their boyfriend complain and then mocks him like that?…That's messed up!"
"Yeah… I guess. She doesn't usually do that, it's just… I don't know. Can't really defend her on that one."
I smirked.
"Still… I'm kinda surprised Nishino-senpai can be nice when she wants to."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"Wow. So I'm just a bitch by default, is that it?" she shot back. "…I can be nice," she added, quieter.
Before I could reply, my phone rang.
Kurumi.
I let out a low groan, turning the screen toward myself.
"Not again…" I muttered.
Nishino-senpai raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.
"Hmm… that your girlfriend?" she asked, voice teasing.
"…Yeah," I muttered flatly.
Her lips quirked into a smirk. "Oooh… ignoring her, huh? Bold move, delinquent-kun."
I didn't respond. Just leaned back, letting the breeze take over the awkward tension.
The rooftop sank back into silence, broken only by the cold fall wind blowing past us.