Chapter 67: The Tragedy of K

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Sakamoto-senpai responded to KYOKO-san’s sarcastic remarks without any reaction, answering calmly.

“No, I don't know. I was just told by someone from the same publisher to keep an eye out because of these rumors.”

“What the hell? A magazine company chasing rumors? That's pathetic.”

As expected, KYOKO-san was displeased. But there might be a hint in that message.

So, I decided to ask.

“KYOKO-san, which university's entrance ceremony offer did you turn down?”

“Huh?”

“You turned it down, right?”

“Yes, I turned down offers from Hokkei University and Rankou University. But those were just for talk events. I have an important goal, so of course, I chose Manyo University.”

“…”

Wait a minute. Hokkei University—that’s Mitsuhide's university.

So, it's also Okutsu's university.

I don't know much about Rankou University, but isn't it the one with the rumor that if you can write your name, you pass the entrance exam? Calling it a university is a bit of a stretch. It wouldn't be surprising if she turned that offer down at the door.

“Um, KYOKO-san, is it possible that the letter is from that guy, former Ando, now Okutsu?”

“…Huh?”

Wow, KYOKO-san's dumbfounded face is pretty rare. It's like seeing a legendary, rare Pokémon. Or should I say a YURI-rare?

“I mean, isn't Okutsu from Hokkei University?”

“Now that you mention it, I completely forgot about that vulgar creature.”

Poor Okutsu. KYOKO-san doesn't even recognize him as a person.

There's no concrete evidence, but given how Okutsu was recently rejected by Kurebayashi-san and might be sexually frustrated, it wouldn't be surprising if he's fixated on his old crush, KYOKO-san.

Or maybe it is weird. If so, Okutsu is a strange guy. There are plenty of other women out there, so why focus on Kurebayashi-san and KYOKO-san?

Well, I guess I can't talk. But I'm the one being fixated on.

Maybe if I asked Kurebayashi-san, I could understand Okutsu's mindset a bit better.

Wait, I forgot something important!

I forgot to ask Kurebayashi-san to have a one-on-one with KYOKO-san at the Spring Festival. Without that, my group date might be in jeopardy. After getting this involved, if it gets canceled due to breach of contract, that would be as bad as a condom breaking on a risky day.

“…Zeke, Naon!”

“What are you babbling about all of a sudden? Did you lose it?”

“No, just psyching myself up.”

“Oh, so you didn't lose it; you just psyched yourself up too much and leaked a bit.”

“You're a disgraceful model. Want some tonkatsu?”

“Are you planning to establish the Kingdom of the Truly Unattractive?”

Sakamoto-senpai watched our verbal sparring with a slightly cold look.

“I didn't know you and Kenizaki were this close, Yuuta.”

“No, no, no,” KYOKO-san and I denied simultaneously, waving our hands.

“Don't imitate me.”

“That's my line.”

“You two really are close. Huh?”

Sakamoto-senpai's phone rang.

“Sorry, I need to take this… Gyuji? What's up? You wouldn't call if it wasn't important.”

Gyuji? Is that a name? Well, eavesdropping isn't polite.

(…Are you sure you'll bring Mii to the Spring Festival? Can you handle this leisurely pace?)

As Sakamoto-senpai started his call, KYOKO-san whispered in my ear. Normally, a beauty's breath on your ear would make you shiver, but not with her. There's no heart-pounding model whisper like this, but it helps me stay calm.

(Don't worry, it's fine.)

(Don't raise a flag. Can I trust you?)

(Probably.)

(I can't believe you're so confident with such an unreliable answer.)

(You can live boldly too, KYOKO-san.)

(Shut up, pervert.)

Why are we whispering like a comedy duo? But this is always how conversations with KYOKO-san go.

Her humor is as bad as a third-rate web writer.

“… Sorry, I've got to go. Something urgent came up.”

“What? Work?”

“Probably. I have a feeling this is a big scoop. I'll make it up to you.”

Sakamoto-senpai finished his call and apologized briefly before rushing off without even leaving his contact information.

So he's taking the train back!

That left KYOKO-san and me in the waiting room, her with her arms crossed and me lamenting the unexpected expense of the train fare.