Another day. Another lecture Kaito wasn’t listening to.

But this time, he wasn’t zoning out. Not entirely.

His pen scratched across the page—actual writing, not just aimless doodles or commentary. The teacher paused mid-sentence, doing a visible double-take. 

Is… is he taking notes?

A rare smile crept onto her face. Perhaps today really was a miracle. 

She didn’t know the truth: Kaito Sugiura was deep in strategy mode. 

The notes had nothing to do with the lesson and everything to do with the girl sitting just beside him—the one currently reading quietly, the one who always seemed to be in the background unless you knew what to look for. 

Mio Hanazawa. 

Kaito’s pencil slowed to a halt. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as a breath slipped out of him. 

“I’ve been going about this all wrong.”

Originally, he’d entertained the idea of pairing Mio with someone else—maybe Ryota, or another decent-enough classmate. If she couldn’t win the protagonist, maybe could still find love elsewhere.

But love wasn’t the issue. 

Mio had lost long before the confession chapter. She lost the moment her quiet support role was written in. The moment she was made to orbit someone brighter than herself. The moment her entire existence was reduced to “Childhood friend who waited too long.” 

If she was ever going to move on, it wouldn’t be because of someone new swooping in. 

She needed something Hiroshi had accidentally given her: the courage to step out of the background. A voice. 

“I have to help her find that again,” he muttered. 

Kaito rubbed a hand over his face, and for a moment, he let the mask drop. No smiles. No Hiroshi-style cheer. 

Just exhaustion. 

“What a gamble I’m making…” 

The teacher, glancing back to check on her star student, caught a glimpse of Kaito’s expression—and immediately looked away, pale-faced and rattled. 

That wasn’t the expression of a high school boy. That was something else. Cold. Hollow. Dangerous. 

She decided, then and there, to leave Sugiura alone for the rest of the semester. 

Lunchtime came and went. Classmates clumped into their usual groups, chatting and eating and laughing like this was just another day. Kaito, as usual, sat at his desk alone. 

But this time, his eyes weren’t on the ceiling. They were on Mio. 

She was hunched over a book again. Not unusual. But her shoulders were tense—too tense. Her eyes didn’t move along the page. She wasn’t pretending to read. 

Kaito sat up, pushing aside his lunch box.

No point waiting.

“Hey, Hanazawa.” 

She flinched, clearly startled, and peeked up from her book. 

Kaito raised his hands in apology. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Just noticed you weren’t sitting with your friends. Is everything okay?” 

She hesitated, gaze shifting away, “I… just wanted to read today.” 

A practiced excuse, Not a lie, exactly. But not the truth either. 

Kaito tilted his head, pretending curiosity. “What are you reading?” 

Mio’s hands tensed around the edges of the book. “I-It’s, um… just a novel. Nothing interesting.”

He leaned in slightly, catching a glimpse of the cover before she could flip it over. 

Ah. Not a novel. A self-help book on confidence. 

Kaito pulled back with a soft, nonjudgmental sigh. “Hanazawa…” 

Her eyes widened in panic. Before she could defend herself, he held out a hand. 

“It’s fine. Really. I just…I get it.” 

She stared at the floor, silent. 

“Is there something,” Kaito asked carefully, “you don’t have confidence in?” 

Silence again. But not the hesitant kind—more like her words had been trapped somewhere she couldn’t reach. 

“I don’t know what you’re dealing with. I don’t know what’s making it so hard to speak. But I do know this—whatever it is, you’re not alone.” 

Mio slowly looked up at him. Her eyes were wide, unsure. 

“You can tell me,” he said gently. “Or don’t. That’s fine too. But I want to help.”

There was a long pause. 

Then, quietly: “I… I want to be able to talk to people. Really talk. Not just smile and nod and hope someone else carries the conversation."

Kaito smiled. 

“That’s it? Then you’re in luck,” he said, pointing to himself. “Because I happen to be a very average human being. Which means if you can talk to me, you’re already halfway there.” 

She blinked at him, stunned.

“I’m serious,” he added, grinning now. “Let me help.” 

“I-I didn’t expect that,” Mio murmured. “Most people tell me to just… get over it.”  

“Well, that’s a dumb solution,” Kaito said flatly. “You helped me study, right? Think of this as me returning the favor.” 

“But I didn't expect anything back…” she said, voice small. 

“Exactly,” he replied. “That’s why it’s worth it.” 

Mio’s lips curled slightly. Just slightly. “Thank you, Sugiura.” 

Later, the library. 

Their spot in the corner. A stack of books between them. Sunlight filtering through the window like a soft spotlight. 

Kaito leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Okay. Step one: let’s figure out where you’re starting from. You have friends already, right?”

Mio nodded, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. “I do. But even then… I can’t talk to them the way I want to. I don’t know how to keep the conversation going.” 

“You’ve done fine with me,” he said.

“That’s different,” she replied, then paused. “Actually… I think it’s because of the way you talk. It feels familiar. LIke I’ve heard it before, or maybe read it.” 

Kaito blinked. 

She was right, of course. 

He was talking like Hiroshi. The energetic tone, the forced friendliness, the willingness to carry the conversation—he’d borrowed all of it. 

But she never noticed it was all fake. 

“I… see,” he said. “Maybe I’m just easy to talk to.”

Mio tilted her head. “Maybe.”

She doesn’t even realize it. That’s good. That means I can keep this up.

If he could act like Hiroshi long enough—just long enough—maybe she’d find that voice again on her own. Maybe she’d start talking to her friends more. Maybe the threads would reconnect without him needing to pull every string. 

“This should work,” he murmured. “Slowly. Build her confidence. Help her take small steps forward.” 

Kill two birds with one stone. Help her grow. Help her move on. Except… Except Aphireia mentioned more. 

“Guide her. Protect her. Be her guardian angel.”

This was just a school setting. Just a girl with a broken heart. What could possibly happen that would need protection. 

Elsewhere, far beyond the mortal world, a glass of wine titled slightly in a goddess’s hand. 

Aphireia watched the boy with a thoughtful smile. 

“My, my… you really are starting to care.”

She took a slow sip, savoring the silence before the storm.

“But if things stay this easy, you’ll never learn the lesson I carved for you.” 

The wine shimmered like starlight in her glass.

“So… allow me to stir the pot.” 

She raised the glass, eyes glinting. 

“To your next trial, Kaito Sugiura.”