"How was that?"

I craned my neck behind me toward the ginger haired male currently sprawled across the floor of the classroom, running his pencil across a page.

Igarashi hoisted himself to a seated position, and humming, scratched his head.

"Your voice is good. I thought so since we went to karaoke. But. . ."

"As long as we're competing against Upperclassman Hanai on her own turf, we have no chance."

Sighing, I unhanded the microphone. To our fortunate luck, we didn't have class today. Koshiba pulled a few strings for us, too, and we were given permission to borrow the Light Music Club's room to prepare for the festival later today. Igarashi was still working hard on finishing the lyrics to the song—there were more bags under his eyelids than actual skin, proof of his lack of sleep—which left me singing some of his old songs, as well as Upperclassman Hanai's. But at this rate. . .

I mussed my hair. "Slow songs have never been my thing, anyway."

At the silence that greeted me, I glanced left. Igarashi was entirely immersed in his thoughts and hums under his breath. It was kind of hard to digest this side of him—it was like staring at an entirely different person.

We couldn't properly practice without a song, and the time limit was almost up. He had to be under immense pressure.

Pressing my lips into a flat line, I hopped to my feet.

"I'm getting drinks," I announced. "Want anything?"

He collapsed onto his back, never breaking his focus. I wasn't sure if he'd even heard me.

I cracked a small smile. I'd just take a wild guess.

Quietly as possible, I exited the room and closed the door behind me. Considering how early it was, orange lined the skyline. Students participating in club activities gathered in the fields beyond the window. Stretching my arms, I fought a yawn and made my way to the nearest vending machines.

I took a peek at my cell on the way.

A photograph of Rin-Rin, with his lips peeled back to his ears and two peace signs.

I'm always cheering for you, Shii!

Dork.

After sending a heart-felt message in return, full of hearts and emojis, I concealed my phone and made my way outside.

The sight that unfolded before me stalled me in my tracks.

Thugs—bleached hair and menacing attires—ganging up on a defenceless student. At least, that was my initial impression. However, I swiftly noticed this "defenceless student" was no other than Kamakiri. And the thugs were his friends from the day of the carnival.

My heart betrayed me by swelling with indescribable pain. I clenched my chest, willing it away, much to no avail. He was exactly as I last remembered. But gone was his sweet, charming smile that made me melt on multiple occasions. Instead, it was a frozen frown that fitted his face much like a missing puzzle piece.

"Don't be a jerk, Kamakiri," Kumai—if I recalled correctly—shoved his shoulder. "Loosen up more."

"I'm not doing it, all right?" Kamakiri remarked.

Goya delivered a merciless punch to his abdomen. Kamakiri gasped for air and teetered over, all the while the delinquents sniggered. Tanaka yanked at his hair, Handa running his knuckles against his cheek.

"Where the hell is that attitude coming from, huh?" Tanaka spat.

"We're the ones killing time with a nobody like you," Handa continued.

Kumai scoffed. "That beanstalk, too. We told you to lead her on for fun, and fun was what we got out of it. We're the only ones who can keep mud like you company. So show some respect and do what we tell you."

"They're right over here, mister! The ones bullying a student!"

My yell startled the delinquents to the core. They reeled away from Kamakiri, alarm marking their features as they whipped their heads around. They booked it at that, Goya spitting one last time before ducking out after them.

Once the coast was clear, I poked my head around the corner. Kamakiri bitterly rubbed his stomach, other hand caressing his cheek.

The glower he aimed in my direction froze me to the bone.

"If you're expecting me to say thank you, hold your breath. It isn't happening."

Despite my leaden legs, I found myself out in the open. Kamakiri outwardly flinched once recognition settled in. Then, he dragged his attention to the ground.

I shouldn't have been surprised not to hear an apology. Maintain the slightest hope that maybe Kamakiri wasn't the cruel bastard who'd played with my feelings and abandoned me at my weakest. That maybe the guy I'd once fallen for was genuine.

It was stupid, still holding onto that faith when I'd been proven—quite bluntly—how terrible a guy he was.

Still. . . it was that stupid part of me that clung to it anyway.

"That beanstalk, too. We told you to lead her on for fun, and fun was what we got out of it. We're the only ones who can keep mud like you company. So show some respect and do what we tell you."

Kamakiri didn't belong with a group like that. Maybe, like me, he couldn't befriend others, and found himself wedged between them. And if. . . if the only reason he approached me was because these bad influences told him to. . . If he hurt me like that in order to remain apart of them. . . maybe. . .

"Don't look at me like that."

He shattered my train of thought. The black look he adorned didn't suit him at all, and prickled me like needles.

"I betrayed you," he spat. "Got involved with you as a joke. I did it out of own volition, not because I was threatened. I'm not the guy you thought I was, Kisaragi."

I knew as much. I knew it so well it made my stomach bottom out in nausea. That I couldn't forgive him no matter his circumstances.

That Daisuke Kamakiri wasn't sweet, or nice, or anything else I'd built him up to be.

In spite of that. . . it. . .

"—meant a lot to me." I gnawed my lip to force back the lump in my throat. "When you sought me out and gave me those tickets. When you invited me to the carnival. When you offered me your coat and held my hand when I was scared. I know I'm slow, and dumb, but. . . I didn't think for one second it came from an insincere place. Rumours aren't everything, so no matter how badly someone painted you a villain, I wanted to have faith in the person I met outside the gossip. Even if you did hurt me as a joke, and didn't mean any of it. . . you accepted me for who I was. I just wish you gave me the chance to accept the real you, too."

I didn't sneak a glimpse at his reaction. With a short bow, I dashed for the vending machines quite the distance away. I swiftly rubbed my eyelids with my sleeve as I collected a decent amount of refreshments.

Inhaling and exhaling deep breaths to mend my composure, I collected them in my arms and made my way back to the classroom.

When I reentered, a brand new face was waiting to greet me.

Messy grey hair. Bright blue eyes.

The notes he played on the synthesizer was limpid, and pierced my chest in an instant. Upon hearing the door open, however, he halted his playing and fixed his gaze to me.

He blinked.

I stared.

Igarashi broke the silence. "Ooh, drinks!"

He snatched the lot from my arms and plopped them onto the nearby desk. Whether it be his idiocy, or inability to read a mood, he scooped two juice boxes for himself.

"Sena, want apple juice?"

"Sure," replied the unfamiliar boy.

He tossed it at that. When the two were drinking away without a care, I broke the silence.

"Who. . . ?"