The hallway is a full-blown circus.

Class just ended, and every student in the building’s got the exact same idea at the exact same time. They flood the halls like it’s a zombie apocalypse, minus the actual zombies. Footsteps clack. Backpacks swing like wrecking balls. Conversations crash into each other until it all blends into one big audio mess.

Lockers slam like drumbeats. Someone’s laughter echoes way too loudly. That weird kid from Class 2-B is already out there again, trying to sell snacks like it’s some kind of black market hustle.

It’s your typical after-school mayhem.

Until it’s not.

One voice cuts through the noise like a mic drop.

Heads snap. Chatter freezes. I even pause mid-step, like my brain’s say, Whoa, hold up.

“Yo, Kira!”

I spin around, halfway out of the boys’ restroom. My jacket flares out like the wind knows I need a moment, and for one hot second, I feel like I’ve just walked off the set of a budget action movie.

Cue imaginary theme music.

At the other end of the hallway stands Taiga Watanabe. Lanky, loud, and flailing his arms like he’s directing traffic in a typhoon. His grin? Stupidly wide. His energy? Pure chaos. Basically, he’s a human exclamation mark.

Naturally, every eye in the vicinity shifts from him… to me.

Awesome.

Before we go full anime pilot episode, here’s a quick intro.

Name’s Akira Sakamoto, but everyone just calls me Kira. I’m a senior at Haruhiro High School, tucked way down in Fukuoka. Life here? Honestly, not that deep. No love triangles. No high-stakes drama. No evil student council president hiding secret powers behind a smug smirk and perfect hair. Just me, cruising by on a decent smile and slightly above-average B.S. skills.

Anyway, back to the hallway scene.

Taiga marches over, bouncing like a toddler hyped on sugar.

“So, what’s eating your nuts, bro?” I ask, casually leaning against the wall like I’m not already starring in this hallway circus.

He plants his feet, puffs out his chest, and says, “Today’s the day. I’m asking Saki out.”

I blink. “Saki?” My brain hits pause. Slideshow of girls with bangs. “You mean that skinny girl whose skirt goes past her knees?”

“Nah, not her.”

“Booger-faced girl you called out during the school assembly yesterday?”

He squints at me, looking actually offended. “Not that one either, you jerk!”

Look at this guy. Who’s he calling a jerk? I shoot him a smirk, not even bothering to hide how much I’m loving this.

“Then which Saki are we talking about?”

“Saki Nishimura from Class 3-4,” he says, like he’s announcing royalty.

Ohhh. That Saki.

“Come on, Kira, you know her,” he insists, running a hand through his hair. “Cute face. Always wears a ponytail.”

I let out a long sigh, then give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Taiga, buddy, told you before. I’m not into girls with flat runways.”

Yeah, you heard me right.

One thing about me? My taste in girls says everything. I’ve always been a connoisseur of curves. Big fan of peaches. The bigger they are, the more I appreciate them.

Sue me.

Taiga groans. “You and your shallow taste.”

“Appreciation for geometry is a personality trait,” I say, nudging him with my elbow. “Don’t kink-shame me.”

He laughs, but that determined spark in his eye? Still blazing.

“Anyway, I’m going for it,” he says, standing tall like he’s marching straight into a boss fight. “You leaving now?”

“Yeah, you know me. Soon as that final bell rings, I’m already halfway out the gates and emotionally reunited with my TV.”

“Later then,” he calls as he jogs off, probably rehearsing his confession lines like it’s opening night.

I watch him go, shaking my head.

Taiga, man. Always chasing girls like his life’s a rom-com with zero budget and way too many plot twists.

Still. Got to respect the confidence.

Flat chests and all.

I’m about to bounce.

Literally turn around, already debating which soda to grab from the vending machine, when my body just… locks up.

Everything slows down like I’ve been slapped into bullet time. My brain’s stuck. My feet? Useless. My eyes laser in on one specific girl.

Her laugh slices through the hallway noise like a bell. Clear as mountain spring water. Effortless, like a summer breeze drifting across a rooftop.

And yeah, I know I’ve got a type.

Curves. Bounce. The kind of shape that makes math teachers cry about symmetry.

But this girl? She doesn’t need any of that. I could’ve stared at her all day, even if her chest’s flatter than my gaming chair’s seat cushion after a full boss raid. Don’t judge me. That chair’s seen things. Dark, sweaty, twelve-hour raid things.

Three girls walk past, their conversation floating through the madness like background music from some low-budget slice-of-life teen drama. And right in the middle of that squad?

Her.

Rei Fujimoto. My classmate.

The main character energy? Unreal.

She’s got that perfect mix of looks and mystery that makes her feel untouchable. Like the final boss in a dating sim, but with better hair and actual social stats.

Queen of Haruhiro High. No contest.

And I’m not just saying that in some “everyone’s obsessed” kind of way. I mean, she’s got an actual fan club. Unofficial, yeah, but still very real. Posters, forums, probably conspiracy theories.

Every time I see her, it’s like the lighting around her gets brighter. I’m talking movie-level lens flare. No one else even notices, but my brain’s already queuing up a dramatic soundtrack.

Her hair? Glossy black, flowing down her back. Her eyes? Big, deep, unreadable, like she already knows your darkest secrets and’s just choosing not to ruin your life. Yet.

We’ve barely spoken. A few polite nods. Maybe a “good morning” if I’m lucky and the universe feels generous.

But somehow, every time we cross paths, my heartbeat goes full rave mode.

And then she looks my way.

Actually looks.

The world stops.

Her smile? Soft. Lethal. The kind that turns normal dudes into simps with no survival instincts.

Which, unfortunately, includes me. Totally and completely.

“Hey there, Zipper-kun.”

“Uh… hi, Fujimoto-san.”

Smooth. So smooth I could’ve slid across the hallway like an action movie stuntman. My voice even cracks a little at the end.

The girls giggle as they pass, all throwing these playful glances over their shoulders like they’re auditioning for a perfume commercial.

And me? I stand there like an idiot. Face hot. Brain offline.

But wait. Why’d she call me “Zipper-kun”?

I scratch my head.

Eh, never mind that. Point is—she acknowledged me. Rei Fujimoto actually noticed I exist. That’s the win right there.

I puff up a little. Confidence? Nah. That’s pure delusion, baby.

But I lean into it anyway. Might’ve even muttered, This is it, boys, under my breath, like I’m about to level up in real life.

Then something taps my shoulder.

I turn. Fast. And that’s when it happens.

Boom. Collision.

My face smacks into something soft.

Very soft. And warm.

My brain can’t compute what just happened, but my body? Oh, my body’s living for it.

I don’t pull back. Nope. I freeze. Then slowly, without thinking, I lean in a little more. Like some weirdo nuzzling a pillow in his sleep.

Warmth spreads across my face. The sort of warmth that says you’re safe here. Like Mom tucking you in when you were five. Like fresh laundry. Like the inside of a fluffy mascot costume.

Is this… heaven?

I legit rub my cheek against it. Twice.

And then.

Poke.

A jab hits the top of my head. Not hard, but direct. The universal sign for “get your creepy face out of there.”

My eyes snap open.

Reality slaps me harder than my math scores.

And that’s when I see what I’ve bumped into.

Or more accurately…

Who.

“Enjoying yourself down there, Kira?”

My soul almost leaves my body.

I know that voice. Know it the way you recognize a final boss theme in a horror game.

Sudden, inevitable, and full of incoming trauma.

I tilt my head up real slow, like I’m cranking a rusted lever in a survival cutscene, and boom.

There she is.

Towering over me like Judgment Day in a ponytail.

Mai Oda.

Six foot two of intimidation. Long legs, long hair, and a long-standing beef with yours truly.

She’s the captain of the girls’ basketball team and my personal pain in the ass since we were both in diapers. Our families’ve always been tight, which means fate just keeps shoving us into awkward-ass proximity.

Mai takes great pleasure in mocking me (and she still does), especially since she’s well aware of my not-so-secret preference for a certain body type.

I may’ve accidentally let slip my fondness for peaches during a convo about girls. Yeah. That little nugget definitely didn’t go unnoticed.

She looks down at me, arms crossed, lips twitching into that smug little smirk she always wears whenever she catches me doing something embarrassing.

Which, for the record, happens a lot.

And thanks to my modest five foot five, her… chest-level airspace is now the exact spot my face just violated.

Kill me. Just bury me under the gym floor right now.

“Ack!” I leap back like I’ve been tasered. “Not after I saw your face!”

Totally nailed the comeback. Totally ignored the fact my ears are burning and I just motorboated her without a license.

Mai’s eyes sparkle with that signature I’m-about-to-roast-you-alive glint. Her sleek black hair shimmers like it’s got its own wind machine, just to rub in the fact she always looks ready for a magazine cover shoot.

She leans in slightly, enough to make my survival instincts scream.

“Caught you again, huh?” she says, voice sweet and smug. “You never learn, do you?”

Ugh. That tone. That Mai tone. She always hits where it hurts most. Never yelling. Just those calm, cutting words that somehow slice deeper than a pencil blade.

I roll my eyes so hard I almost see last week.

“Whatever, Mai. Don’t you have better people to bother? Like literally anyone else?”

She chuckles. Loud. Annoying. Like the laugh track to my misery.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She tilts her head, all fake innocence. “And what’s the rush? Off to your precious ‘place’ again?”

I stiffen. She doesn’t need to say it with air quotes like that.

“Oi, what I do after school is my business,” I snap, jabbing a finger at her like I’ve any authority in this power dynamic.

Mai gives me a look. The kind teachers give right before they drop a surprise test.

“You’re wasting your time going there every day. This is our last year, Kira. You said you wanted to be a keisatsukan, right? Join a sport. Toughen up that flimsy body of yours.”

She flicks my chest with her finger. It feels way too much like getting hit by a stick of chalk with opinions.

I groan internally. She’s got a point. A very Mai point. But I’m not about to give her the satisfaction.

My dream’s crystal clear.

Become a cop.

Not the boring desk jockey kind. I’m talking undercover elite, patrolling Nakasu’s red-light district, tracking down those busty deri jō in stilettos and enough glitter to blind a salaryman.

I don’t need muscles for that.

I need speed.

And the ability to talk fast enough to sell sand in a desert.

Mai backs up a bit, arms still folded like she’s thinking something over.

“Here’s a thought. I’ll coach you in basketball.”

I blink. Is this a prank? Are there, like… hidden cameras or something?

“You know I’m good,” she continues, casually tossing her hair back like an anime rival about to propose a duel. “I’ll talk to Okuda-sensei and get you on the boys’ team. I’m sure he’ll agree.”

Yeah. I bet he would. With the way that sleazy old fossil ogled her every time she ran drills, he’d probably let her name the next starting lineup just to stay on her good side.

I force a grin and crank up the sarcasm.

“Wow, how generous. You really think I’m dying to bounce a peach around with you?”

Silence.

My brain replays what I just said.

I meant basketball. Obviously. But my mouth betrayed me.

Before I can correct myself, a fist swings toward my face, cutting through the air and catching me completely off guard. The world slows for a moment as my ninja reflexes kick in and I dodge the blow just in time.

“Hey! No swinging in the hallways, Mai! You’re literally one lawsuit away from detention!”

“And what about you? Burying your face in my peaches?”

“That was accidental,” I say, face redder than a warning screen. “And stop saying peaches. It’s not funny when you say it.” I try to mask my embarrassment with fake annoyance.

She grins. Evil. Victorious.

“Fine, whatever. Go do your after-school thing,” she says, waving me off.

But then she pauses, lowers her gaze, and drops the unexpected bomb.

“By the way, Kira, your fly’s open.”

I glance down.

Oh. Oh no.

It is. Full-on air circulation going on down there.

I fumble with the zipper, yanking it up fast like it’s rigged to explode from embarrassment.

And then—

“YOWCH!”

Pain shoots through me like lightning riding a chainsaw. I double over, hands cupping the damage. The hallway erupts in laughter. Students point their fingers at me. Whispers spread like wildfire.

And Mai? She just shakes her head.

“See? Flimsy.”