The hallway still pulsed with voices, footsteps, and the metallic clinks of vending machines. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting warm lines across the pale floor. There was movement in every direction—except here.
Tomoya stood in front of the door to 2nd Year B. His hand rested inside his uniform's inner pocket, where the flash drive pressed against his shirt like an anchor.
What he saw was impossible to ignore.
Megumi.
Sitting next to Yuta.
Her lunchbox open. A faint smile on her face. A real smile. Intimate. Directed at someone who wasn't him.
Tomoya blinked slowly. A knot formed in his throat but didn't rise. It stayed stuck, aching. His eyes still tried to make sense of the scene. Searching for some mistake. A gap that proved this was only temporary. But everything there felt solid.
Megumi didn't look at him.
She only talked to Yuta.
And that boy—that stranger who'd never been on his radar—was now the center.
Tomoya took a step forward. He wanted to call Utaha. Hand over the flash drive. Stick to the plan.
But his hand didn't leave his pocket.
And before he could do anything, two classmates brushed past him, shoving his shoulders hard.
"You gonna stand there like a plant? Move it."
Tomoya stumbled slightly. He tried to hold his posture.
One of them laughed. The other shoved again, harder this time, forcing Tomoya's body back two steps.
"You deaf or what?"
Another push.
The door to 2nd Year B fell behind him.
Tomoya tried to protest, but his voice came out weak, caught in his throat. The second classmate grabbed his shoulder and yanked him into the side hallway, away from the classroom.
"Got a problem?"
"Where do you think you are? A runway?"
The words came fast. Cutting. Leaving no room.
Tomoya retreated, too weak to resist. He glanced over his shoulder, still trying to see the door, the classroom—any sign of Megumi, of Utaha, of a chance.
But it was too late.
He was pushed again. His backpack hit the wall.
The impact made the flash drive slip from his inner pocket and fall to the floor with a dry, faint, but distinct sound.
One of the classmates stepped on it without noticing.
The crack was loud. Plastic breaking. Fragments scattered.
The boy looked down, frowning.
"You kidding? You dropped this crap on the floor?"
The other laughed.
"If it was important, you'd hold onto it better."
Without waiting for a response, they kept walking. One of them gave the largest piece a light kick, pushing it farther from Tomoya with the tip of his shoe.
"Pay attention, nerd. No one's got time for your meltdowns."
Their voices faded into the hallway, blending with the noise of other conversations.
Tomoya said nothing.
He just stood there, staring at the pieces of the flash drive.
One side was cracked. The metal tip bent. The files inside… were nowhere now. Not in the classroom. Not with Utaha. Not with him.
He saw a whole night's work destroyed.
His hand slowly reached down, picking up the largest piece.
His eyes didn't blink. They only reflected the growing emptiness inside.
For a moment, he looked at the door to 2nd Year B. Distant. Untouchable.
Then he lowered his gaze again.
He gathered the remaining fragments. Tucked them carefully into his jacket pocket. As if they could still be saved. As if they were still something.
And then he turned his back.
He walked away.
No clear destination. No thought for the next step.
Maybe just… away from that door.
The door to 2nd Year B closed with a soft click after the boys left.
Inside, the atmosphere was different. Calmer, more focused—like a space where time moved at a different pace.
Yuta sat between two strong presences.
Megumi, to his right, adjusted the utensils on her lunchbox with careful movements. The faint scent of rice and miso floated in the air, subtle but comforting.
Aika, to his left, opened her lunchbox with short, sharp motions. Her face tried to look calm, but her eyes betrayed her unease—especially when Megumi spoke.
"I made enough food for two."
She didn't say it was for you, nor did she need to. She just looked at Yuta and slid the lunchbox a few centimeters toward the center of the table.
Yuta raised an eyebrow, surprised.
Megumi kept her expression neutral. "Want some?"
"Sure."
He picked up the chopsticks without ceremony. Aika couldn't hide the abrupt way she grabbed her juice from her bag.
"I brought too much food too."
She spoke louder than necessary. Then she pulled half of her lunchbox to the side.
"If you want variety, Yuta, it's here."
Yuta glanced from one to the other. Grilled fish on one side. Rice with omelet on the other. Two offers, two attentive gazes.
"Are you guys trying to feed me or compete?"
Aika looked away. "It's not a competition. I'm just being… polite."
Megumi gave a faint smile. "Of course."
Yuta took a deep breath. He took a bit from each lunchbox. Ate in silence, trying to ignore the tension.
Aika glanced sideways. Megumi kept smiling, but restrained. Neither gave an inch. Yet, there was no hostility. Just a silent testing ground.
—
Utaha Kasumigaoka sat in the back row. Her lunchbox untouched on the desk. The lid had been open for exactly three minutes. The rice was starting to lose its warmth.
She didn't touch her chopsticks. She just stared ahead.
At the trio.
Yuta, Aika, and Megumi.
A circle that didn't seem planned—but worked.
'He wasn't talking to anyone for weeks… now he's like the center of gravity in the room.'
Utaha rested her chin on her hand. Her locked phone sat on the desk. No new messages.
No mysterious editor.
No delivery.
She'd skipped lunch with her friends for this. To wait for someone who never showed.
The frustration didn't manifest in words. Only in a gaze growing more distant. Colder.
She picked up her chopsticks. Started eating slowly. Alone.
The food was good, but it had no taste.
—
Yuta wiped his mouth with a napkin. Still chewing, he spoke.
"Do you two know each other?"
Aika answered quickly. "First time I've seen her."
Megumi nodded. "But I've heard of her."
"Really?"
"You're always with him."
Aika tensed. "I'm not always with him."
Yuta raised his hands. "Just wanted to introduce you properly."
Megumi extended her hand, polite. "Megumi Katō."
Aika shook it firmly. "Aika Kiriyuu."
The gesture was brief. Restrained. But civil.
'They don't hate each other. But they're sizing each other up,' Yuta thought.
And then came the second nonverbal move.
Megumi slid another piece of omelet toward him. Without saying a word.
Aika countered by placing a rice ball in the center of the table, on the opposite side.
Yuta looked at the two foods. Then at the two girls.
And laughed. Softly. Genuinely.
"Okay. I think I'm dying of indigestion today."
Both girls looked at him at the same time. Aika frowned. Megumi raised an eyebrow.
"What are you laughing at?"
"I'm not dying of hunger anymore."
He picked up Aika's rice ball and then Megumi's omelet. Ate both naturally.
The girls exchanged a quick glance.
There was no anger there.
But there was something new.
Something they both understood at the same time.
The competition was just beginning.
And Yuta… had no idea what was coming next.
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