Chapter 1: Will I be given a false confession?

Reading Settings

Translator: Soafp

---

“What about making Nakina's punishment game a fake confession?”

“…You mean confessing to someone you don't even like?”

“Yeah, exactly. Sounds like it'd be fun, right?”

“N-No, that's awful! It'd definitely bother the other person!”

I—Subaru Hatsukade, a first-year high school student—happened to overhear that conversation while I was alone in the clubroom.

Cautiously peering through the gap in the door, I saw four of the class's popular girls surrounding Nakina Amanatsu.

“C-Come on, can't we pick a lighter punishment game?”

“Ehh? You promised you'd do anything if you lost.”

“Well, even then, there ought to be some limits, hehe.”

Twisting a strand of her pinkish-brown hair around her finger, Amanatsu gave a vague laugh, but she looked genuinely reluctant.

This wasn't the first time I'd seen that expression on her face.

At lunch in the classroom, in the hallway after school, even when I spotted her around town—whenever Amanatsu was with that group of girls, she wore the kind of face people made when they were reading the room. You could practically feel how hard she was forcing herself.

(There's no way hanging around with them is worth that much.)

Maybe irritated that Amanatsu couldn't bring herself to give a firm no, the short girl openly complained.

“Hasn't Nakina been kind of a buzzkill lately?”

“Huh?”

“You're killing the mood. So? Are you doing it or not?”

“…O-Okay. Then… ahaha, maybe I'll try it.”

(What a joke.)

That was what happened when you forced yourself to associate with people whose values didn't match yours.

Unlike her, I understood my place perfectly well.

I had no intention of getting involved with anyone in my class.

And of course, I planned to have absolutely no contact with girls like them from now on—

“What about Hatsukade as the person she confesses to?”

—Huh?

“H-Hatsukade-kun?”

“That's perfect. He's always by himself, so he'd probably be thrilled.”

“Idiot. What if he seriously says yes? Then it won't be funny anymore.”

Hey, were these girls seriously saying this?

“Who cares if he says yes? She can date him for, like, three days, then tell him it just doesn't feel right.”

“Hatsukade gets one sweet memory before he dies alone, so everybody wins.”

Why were they proceeding under the assumption that I was destined to die alone?

“Right, Nakina?”

“…”

“Oh? Do you maybe have someone you actually like? Then it doesn't have to be fake—you could confess for real.”

“N-No, there's nobody like that!”

“Then it's decided! Tomorrow, you confess to Hatsukade!”

“…Okay.”

With that, the idiots left the hallway.

I was so stunned that I had moved beyond anger.

That conversation had been less mature than something middle school first-years would have.

It annoyed me that they spoke as though I'd be happy about it, and I was irritated at both the girls who pushed her into it and Amanatsu for agreeing.

Still, whatever.

In this situation, I held the overwhelming advantage.

They probably expected me to get confessed to tomorrow and stammer, “M-Me? Are you sure you want someone like me, such a loser?”

But too bad for them.

I already knew it was a fake confession.

I felt bad for Amanatsu, but I'd come up with the most devastating line possible and reject her spectacularly.

(Heh. I'll enjoy this while it lasts.)

---

The next day, after school.

The evening sky cast two long shadows across the rooftop.

“U-Um…”

“…Yeah.”

Amanatsu had called me out here, and we had been standing face-to-face for around ten minutes now.

Yet nothing had happened. An unbearably awkward silence simply hung between us.

“Hey, Amanatsu. If you've got something to say, hurry up and say it.”

“…R-Right, of course. Ahaha… Um, speaking of things to say, do you have a favorite kind of dog? I like big dogs…”

There was that smile again.

That fake face she used to hide her real feelings and brush things off.

“Did you bring me all the way to the rooftop to talk about dogs?”

“N-No, but…”

“Then stop talking about things that have nothing to do with this. Get to the point.”

“…Okay. Sorry.”

Honestly, by then I had already lost most of my enthusiasm.

I'd spent all night thinking of cutting remarks to make her pay, but seeing someone on the side that had wronged me acting like this made it hard to feel angry at all.

“I-I… Hatsukaide-kun, I…”

“…”

“…I like you.”

I let out a sigh mixed with exasperation and looked at her face.

“Tch. Why are you crying while confessing?”

“…Huh?”

Amanatsu looked up in surprise and wiped at her eyes.

She was crying. Not merely with tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, either. Large tears were streaming down her face in exaggerated drops.

“Why are you crying?”

“…”

“I-I'm sorry for crying… sniff…”

The sight of her sobbing helplessly in front of me drained every last bit of venom from me.

“I don't even feel like getting back at you anymore. Look, I knew it was a fake confession from the start.”

“…What?”

“I happened to overhear your conversation yesterday.”

“…No… no…”

“So the fake confession isn't going to work.”

Amanatsu abruptly bowed her head.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry for trying to deceive you!”

“I said, it's fine already…”

“…I'm really… the worst.”

Covering her face with both hands, she began sobbing so hard she sounded close to hyperventilating.

(Seriously… why did this turn out like this?)

It looked like I was the one making a girl cry.

I didn't want to remain in this place for even another second.

Thinking that, I took a step to leave—

“Waaah…”

—but Amanatsu's crying stuck in my ears.

I roughly scratched the back of my head.

Honestly, what was I even trying to do?

“Here.”

I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and held it out to her.

“…Why?”

“Use it.”

“…I can't accept it.”

As Amanatsu kept protesting, I forcibly put the handkerchief into her hand.

“If you feel guilty enough to cry, then don't accept punishment games like that.”

“…Hatsukaide-kun.”

“I know you're not a bad person, Amanatsu. So, uh… don't push yourself so hard when it comes to dealing with people.”

“Wait!”

“See you. Wash it and give the handkerchief back later.”

Ignoring her as she called my name, I opened the door leading back into the school.

Just as expected, the girls who had sent Amanatsu in there were standing on the other side, staring at me with their mouths hanging open.

(Serves you right. I ruined the show you wanted to see.)

I snorted as I passed them, flipped them off in my mind, and headed down the stairs with a lighter step.

---

The following day, during lunch break.

(I'm being watched…)

As I bit into my bread, Amanatsu kept shooting glances my way.

And not just during lunch—she'd been doing this ever since she arrived at school.

Eating while someone watched me was far less enjoyable than I expected.

She was probably still worried about what happened yesterday.

But as far as I was concerned, it was already over.

If anything, having her walk on eggshells around me was more of a nuisance.

I got up from my seat and wandered around the school in search of somewhere quiet. After confirming that nobody was on the landing of the stairwell leading to the rooftop door, I sat down.

“Phew. Finally, I can eat in peace.”

“…Hatsukade-kun.”

“Whoaahhh!? A-Amanatsu!?”

Amanatsu stood just below the top of the stairs, leaning forward with her hands on the landing so that only her face poked out. How long had she been standing there?

“S-Sorry for startling you!”

“…It's fine, but you showed up like a ghost. You scared the hell out of me.”

“…I guess, to you, I'm kind of like an earthbound spirit.”

“That's not what I meant.”

Crawling up the stairs like Sadako, Amanatsu nervously pulled a white piece of cloth from her pocket. [TL: Sadako = The white girl coming out the TV]

“I wanted to return your handkerchief.”

“Oh, is that why you kept looking at me all day?”

“…Y-Yeah. Something like that.”

Amanatsu nodded vaguely.

Despite declaring that she had come to return it, she continued clutching the handkerchief as though it were precious.

“Are you still mad about yesterday?”

“I was annoyed, but I'm not angry.”

“Hatsukade-kun… you're kind.”

“…I'm not kind.”

“But you're still talking to me after what I did.”

“Don't misunderstand. The only reason I'm not angry is because it was you who gave me the fake confession.”

“…Huh?”

“If it had been another girl, I would've lost it.”

To be honest, I had planned to blow up at Amanatsu too.

But the fact that it was Amanatsu had been a big reason I stopped myself at the last moment.

Her voice trembled faintly as she looked down at me.

“Why only me…?”

“Amanatsu… you had a high school debut, didn't you?”

“Huhhh!? How did you find out about my secret when I never told anyone!?”

“I mean, it kind of shows in the way you usually act…”

“N-No way…”

“For example, you stay quiet the whole time other people are talking, but once it's your turn, you start rattling things off at top speed. Conversations aren't turn-based.”

“Uuuugh!”

“And it's obvious how hard you try to read the room. Real extroverts can do that naturally without thinking about it.”

“Huu… haa… huu…”

“And even though you don't have any interest in or knowledge about something, you pretend you know all about topics you think will get a good reaction—”

“Stop! I'm running out of HP!?”

Amanatsu collapsed onto all fours, her complexion as pale as a corpse.

“I knew it… No matter how much sparkling plating I coat myself in, I'm still just rusty iron underneath…”

“Your self-esteem is way too low.”

“Ugh… But what does it have to do with me secretly being an introvert?”

“I just think it's impressive that you're trying so hard.”

“Me?”

“Even though you seem bad at it, you actively try to fit in with the class. That's something I can't do.”

I had no desire to become close to anyone by molding myself into the person they wanted me to be. The thought even disgusted me.

That said, I wasn't arrogant enough to claim that my way was the only right way.

People simply placed the pillars that supported them in different places. That was all.

Viewed that way, Nakina Amanatsu clearly had determination.

Her conspicuous hair color, short skirt, glossy lipstick—she desperately wanted to be part of the glamorous girls.

Even though she stood out in that group, even though her mental resilience was ridiculously fragile, she clung to that status. That persistence alone deserved praise.

“So I respect you a little.”

Without even a twitch of her long eyelash extensions, Amanatsu stared straight at me.

“F-From my perspective, Hatsukade-kun is a hundred times cooler.”

“If that were true, I wouldn't be a loner.”

“T-That's only because everyone doesn't know how great you are! If they did, they'd definitely be impressed by how cool you are for never compromising who you are!”

“You only think that because you compromise too much. Besides, Amanatsu, why don't you act like this in class too?”

“Why?”

“You don't look like you're forcing yourself right now. And, this might sound rude, but you're the cutest girl in the class.”

“Whaaat!?”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“N-No, I'm basically artificial! If I took off my makeup, even my mother—who went through the pain of giving birth to me—and the German shepherd we adopted after it retired from being a police dog wouldn't recognize me! They'd both be like, ‘Who the hell are you!?'”

“Then you could just live as a different person.”

“U-Um…”

Stammering, Amanatsu rose to her feet. She hurriedly fixed her bangs, then looked down at me with lowered eyes.

“Hatsukade-kun… you hate people who give fake confessions, right?”

“Obviously. It's no different from bullying. It wouldn't be strange for the person on the receiving end to never trust anyone again for the rest of their life—I hate it.”

“Right…”

Without blinking, Amanatsu stood frozen as the light steadily vanished from her eyes.

Her expression was so grave that it worried me, and I hurriedly added something.

“Like I said earlier, I'm letting it go this time because it was you, Amanatsu. You don't have to worry about it, okay?”

“…Thank you for being nice to me.”

“More importantly, why are you asking that now?”

“No, it's nothing after all. …Because I'm no longer qualified.”

“Hey, are you okay, Amanatsu? Your face is—”

“Sorry, I'm leaving!”

“Hey, wait!”

She shook off my attempt to stop her. Wrapped in a dark, oppressive air, she whispered quietly:

“…That isn't what I was told.”

Maybe I imagined it.

But I thought I saw a faint sheen of tears in her darkened eyes.

With loud footsteps, Amanatsu's back disappeared beyond the staircase in an instant.

On the now-silent landing, my lonely voice echoed.

“…What about my handkerchief?”

What had she even come here for?