It was already noon when Sakurai Saki walked out of the cooking class with Nakano Miku.
Neither of them was particularly hungry—they'd eaten most of the matcha cake during class. Quality control, Sakurai had called it. Miku had called it gluttony. They'd compromised on "mutual agreement."
"Have you learned how to make matcha cake?" Sakurai Saki glanced down the hallway, where clusters of young women were preparing for the next session.
The place felt less like a cooking school and more like a host club.
At the end of class, the handsome instructor had actually asked if they'd considered working part-time here. Sakurai had declined once—"I'm not very good at teaching others"—but the man had waved it off. Looks are fine. We can train you.
Sakurai Saki was already working as a rental boyfriend. He had no interest in switching to a job that paid less for essentially the same work.
"Pretty much," Miku said, clutching her notebook. Her handwriting was elegant but not particularly bold—neat and precise, like her overall impression.
"Good." Sakurai's efforts hadn't been wasted.
He'd effectively taken over the instructor's role for most of the session. Which made him wonder: why had she spent extra money to bring him here instead of just asking him to teach her at home?
If you want to throw money away, just send it to me. A hundred yen is enough for you to buy a lesson.
They reached the end of the corridor and started downstairs.
On the stairs, a girl with a black ribbon in her hair was coming up. The tsundere of the Five Sisters.
Nakano Nino saw him. Saw Miku beside him.
Her expression flickered through something complicated before settling.
"You two... why are you together?" She couldn't quite keep the edge from her voice.
So this was why Miku had asked her yesterday if there was anywhere good for cooking classes.
"Nino? Why are you here?" Miku asked, genuinely curious.
"Probably to look at handsome guys." Sakurai Saki's answer was immediate, certain.
If there was anything here that might attract Nino, it was the gentle, good-looking instructors. Though the teachers here were quite professional—they didn't personally teach students hand-over-hand. More idols than hosts, really.
"...Sakurai-kun, don't talk like you know me so well!" Nino's cheeks flushed with annoyance.
She wasn't someone who only cared about looks.
If I actually understood you, Sakurai thought privately, you wouldn't have fallen for me.
Few guys genuinely liked this type of "landmine" girl. Beautiful on the outside. Emotionally volatile underneath.
Sakurai Saki didn't want to touch this landmine. Unfortunately, this landmine had legs and kept trying to get closer.
"I don't want to understand you." His smile was pleasant but distant. "Maintaining a minimum level of interaction is enough. To be precise: teacher and student." He tilted his head. "Even if your main reason for coming here wasn't the handsome guys, you definitely considered that aspect, right?"
"...Only a small part!" Nino shot back. "Under the same conditions, people will choose attractive partners, right?"
Sakurai nodded. "Indeed."
Everything you're saying is correct. What does it have to do with me?
"But I think personality is also very important." He let the question hang. "What do you think?"
"Are you saying I have a bad personality?"
"Self-awareness is a good thing, Miss Nino. It's one of your rare strengths. Please keep it up."
It wasn't teaching time. It wasn't a teaching location. Sakurai felt no obligation to say nice things.
He expected her to snap back. Maybe throw a sharp retort, storm off, maintain the usual dynamic.
Instead—
"I... I'll change." Nakano Nino's voice was unexpectedly humble. "The things you don't like. I'll change them."
Something cold settled in Sakurai's stomach.
He remembered the days he'd picked her up. The trembling girl in the living room. The vulnerability beneath the sharp exterior.
"What do you like about me?" He sighed. "I can change that."
Nino turned her head slightly, voice dropping. "It's mainly the way I talk... the rough attitude. My face being a little off doesn't really matter..."
Silence stretched between them.
"...You're amazing." Sakurai Saki's voice was flat.
At this moment, he genuinely wished she'd snap back. Give him something to work with. Something he could counter, deflect, use to push her away.
But she'd turned his attacks into healing.
And the worst part? He'd done this. He'd personally cultivated this response in her.
Sakurai Saki wished he could smash his head against a wall.
"You still have class, right?" Sakurai Saki seized the opportunity to redirect. "We'll head back first."
He turned to Miku. "Let's go. I'll walk you to the station."
The cooking school wasn't far from the train station—a short walk through streets still waking up to the afternoon.
Without waiting for further discussion, the two left Nino behind and began walking.
"I'll go back with you too." Nino's voice trailed after them, hopeful.
"Nino." Miku spoke up, quiet but firm. "Didn't you just arrive?"
"...Alright."
The single word carried more disappointment than it should have. Nino turned toward her class, her retreating figure oddly forlorn—like a puppy watching its owner leave without it.
Sakurai Saki didn't look back.
On the street.
They walked in easy silence for a block before Miku spoke.
"Saki-kun. Nino seems to like you."
Her tone was uncertain, like someone testing unfamiliar ground. She didn't know what it felt like to like someone—she'd never experienced it herself—but Nino's state was unlike anything she'd seen in her sister before.
Maybe this was what liking someone looked like.
"Oh." Sakurai's response was flat. Acknowledging. Dismissing.
He paused, then added: "I actually hope she sees reality sooner."
It would be even better if she confessed sooner. Then I could reject her properly. Watch her cry in front of me.
The thought surfaced without guilt.
It's been a month since I've seen Nino cry. I almost miss it.
Of all the people Sakurai Saki knew, Nakano Nino was probably the only one he could bully to tears without feeling any remorse. In a twisted way, that made her special to him.
He didn't realize how deeply that entanglement ran. His sadistic side and Nino's masochistic side fit together like pieces of a puzzle neither of them had designed.
"Besides." He mused aloud, considering the hypothetical. "Even if I were going to choose someone, why would I choose her? To give an extreme example: her four sisters have the same face. Their personalities are all better than hers. So what advantage does Nino actually have?"
He let the logic sit.
"Isn't it perfectly normal for me not to like her?"
Miku was quiet for a moment. Then: "...Can I tell her this?"
She didn't want her sister to waste time on a hopeless romance. If hearing the truth directly could help Nino move on, maybe it was worth the hurt.
"Go ahead." Sakurai shrugged. Indifferent.
They reached the station entrance. He watched her swipe through the gate, gave a brief nod, and turned away without looking back.
On the train.
Miku found a seat by the window and pulled out her phone.
Her message to Nino was concise—a summary of what Sakurai had said. Direct. Honest. The kind of truth that might sting but ultimately heal.
She watched the message send. Watched the read receipt appear.
Minutes passed.
Then Nino's reply came. Long. Dense. Miku scrolled through it, distilling the essence down to four words:
Willingly. And. Gladly.
I know. But I still like him. It doesn't matter if he hates me. It doesn't matter how humble I become. I don't care if he never looks at me the way I look at him. I just want to be near him. I don't need anything else.
Miku stared at the screen.
Her sister—proud, sharp-tongued, quick to anger Nino—had written these words. Had meant them.
What exactly did Saki-kun do to her?
The question circled in Miku's mind, unanswered.
She thought of Sakurai's face when he'd talked about watching Nino cry. The casual cruelty in his voice. The way he'd dismissed her sister's feelings like something trivial, almost amusing.
And yet.
And yet Nino had written back willingly and gladly.
Miku pocketed her phone and watched the city blur past the window.
She didn't understand love. But she understood, now, that whatever this was between Sakurai Saki and her sister—it ran deeper and darker than she'd ever imagined. And she had no idea how to pull Nino out of it.
Or if Nino even wanted to be pulled.