Chapter 1: The other side of the honor student and twisted love

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Translator: Soafp

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Mio Hinata was dazzlingly perfect.

In the morning, on the path to Sakuramine High School, she always looked like a scene from a painting. Her long, well-groomed black hair shimmered like a halo in the morning sun, and her uniform fit her slender frame as if it were custom-made.

Her pale skin resembled porcelain, and her large eyes always held a quiet intelligence and kindness. Every student who passed by turned to look at her—once, twice, even three times. In their eyes, watching her from behind, there was a mixture of envy, admiration, and a hint of resignation.

Mio pretended not to notice their gazes and kept her eyes forward as she walked.

A faint smile played on her lips—flawless, like the portraits of great figures in textbooks, or the death masks displayed in the art room. But deep within her heart, tiny gears were always creaking with strain.

“Good morning, Mio-chan!”

A cheerful voice called out as a girl came trotting up. It was Saki Fujita, the class mood-maker. She was the kind of person who genuinely admired Mio's perfection, and Mio always felt a sliver of comfort in her innocent eyes.

“Good morning, Saki-chan. You’re full of energy today too.”

Mio deepened her smile and responded. Her tone and expression were flawless—just like she had practiced in front of the mirror the night before.

She was the textbook definition of the “ideal high school girl.” And she always strove to be exactly that. It wasn't effort anymore. It was as natural as breathing—an absolute rule for living.

Because Mio knew: unless she was perfect, she wasn't allowed to exist.

Her parents had taught her that from a young age. Be a good girl. Be smart. Be beautiful. Her existence was only affirmed when she met someone's expectations.

If she got a perfect score on a test, she'd be praised—“That's our Mio!” If she behaved well, she'd be patted on the head—“What a good girl.”

But if she failed, even a little, or showed emotion, disappointment would cloud her parents' faces. That disappointment hurt more than any scolding. It was as if they were silently telling her: the one they loved was the perfect Mio, not the flawed Mio.

So, Mio never took off her perfect mask. At school, at home—she always acted as the ideal idol known as “Mio Hinata.” Beneath that mask, her heart remained in a delicate, unstable balance.

A single failure could shatter everything. And the pride that didn't want anyone to see that fragility churned constantly within her.

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When she entered the classroom, Mio headed to her seat. The window seat at the very back—a special spot bathed in sunlight. It was like a throne, bestowed upon her for her top grades and stunning looks.

“Good morning, Hinata-san.”

A quiet voice reached her ears. She turned around and saw a boy with black-rimmed glasses sitting next to her. It was Yuki Sakurai—a quiet presence in the class. In contrast to Mio, he was always wrapped in a dull shadow.

His grades were above average, but not exceptional. He wasn't athletic. His appearance was plain, and most classmates hardly even registered his presence.

But to Mio, Yuki was different.

“Sakurai-kun. Good morning.”

Mio slightly changed the tone of her voice. Not the flawless smile she showed everyone else, but one laced—however subtly, however unnaturally—with a cold edge. Yuki was one of the few who knew Mio's true self.

Ever since they were young, no matter how strong she pretended to be or how perfect she acted, Yuki alone could see through to the loneliness and anxiety deep inside her.

He was the only one Mio could remove her mask in front of—the one she truly felt at peace with.

And for that very reason, he was the one person she couldn't be honest with.

“Did you know we have a pop quiz in classical lit today?”

Yuki asked as he opened his textbook, his eyes fixed on the page rather than on her. That modest demeanor stirred something within Mio. He knew everything. He knew just how much she cared about him. He knew how deeply she wanted to show him her true self.

“Oh, really? I didn't know that. But you're perfect, Sakurai-kun—of course you'll get a perfect score, right?”

There was a clear trace of sarcasm in Mio's voice. Deliberately, she averted her gaze, avoiding Yuki's face.

Her heart thumped irregularly. Deep down, she knew the truth—she knew that Yuki was hardworking and sincere. And she also knew that he was far from “perfect.”

Yuki slightly lifted his face. For just a moment, his eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses caught Mio's.

To Mio, it looked like a flicker of loneliness passed through them. But it disappeared quickly, and Yuki's gaze returned to his textbook.

“…No, I'm not confident either. But I think you'll be fine, Hinata-san.”

At those words, Mio's heart jumped even harder. No, I'm not fine. The truth is, I'm anxious. The pressure of pretending to be perfect is suffocating.

She wanted Yuki to be the one who understood that. But what came out of her mouth were completely different words.

“Hmph. Of course I'll be fine. I'm not like a certain someone who panics without even reviewing.”

Mio snorted and glanced at Yuki. He said nothing, quietly reading his textbook. That sight stirred a small irritation in Mio.

Why won't he talk back?

Why won't he see through my words and stop me?

A storm of conflicting emotions raged within Mio. Pride that didn't want Yuki to know about her feelings. The need for approval that feared her classmates finding out she was close to someone as plain as Yuki.

And above all, a primal fear that he, of all people, might see her weakness. All of these feelings tangled together, turning her affection into something like poison—a tsundere mask.

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Class began, and the day passed. After school, Mio was surrounded by her friends, laughing brightly. People always gathered around her, and at the center of it all, she shone.

Yuki watched her from afar. He had few friends and was usually alone, often secluded in a quiet corner of the classroom, lost in his own world.

“Hey, Sakurai.”

A voice called from behind. Turning around, Yuki saw Yamada Kenta, the class show-off, smirking with a few of his cronies standing beside him.

“Hinata-san said earlier, ‘Sakurai-kun panics because he never does his review,' or something like that.”

Yamada mimicked Mio's words in a mocking tone. The ridicule in his voice was obvious. Yuki said nothing, just lowered his head.

“Hey, nailed it, huh? Hinata-san seemed fed up with you too, y'know.”

The group laughed, amused. Around the classroom, students cast glances in their direction. Mio caught a glimpse of the scene in between chatting with her friends. Yuki was being teased by Yamada. The sight made Mio's chest ache sharply.

I have to protect him.

That thought crossed her mind—but the words stuck in her throat.

At that moment, Ayaka Sato, standing beside Yamada, let out a giggle.

“I mean, Sakurai-kun is always so plain, right? Maybe Hinata-san talks to him out of pity?”

Ayaka Sato belonged to a different friend group than Mio. Bright and lively, her comment sounded casual, but there was clear malice behind it. Mio was shaken by her words.

That's not true. It's not like that. I… I like him.

But Mio said nothing. She couldn't move.

What would the others think if she defended Yuki now?

Why would perfect Mio Hinata stand up for someone like him?

They'd realize her feelings—that she liked Yuki. That possibility bound her tightly.

More than that, standing up against bullying would mean hurting her pride. Her classmates saw her as flawless. She was terrified of losing that validation.

Deep within her chest, Mio felt something begin to freeze over.

“Yeah, seriously. You should be grateful Hinata-san even bothers talking to you.”

Yamada called out, his voice echoing in the classroom.

Yuki remained silent, head down. His back looked terribly small.

At that moment, Mio felt her body become unbearably heavy, like it was made of lead. Her throat dried up. She couldn't breathe. Her heart pounded wildly—not from the fear of losing Yuki, but from the fear of her perfect mask crumbling.

Far from stopping the bullying, her silence had only encouraged it. Her inaction seemed like permission for Yamada and the others to continue. She realized this—but still, she couldn't stop it.

Yuki must have sensed her gaze. He slowly lifted his face and looked at her. Behind the lenses of his black-rimmed glasses, Mio thought she saw a faint mix of hope—and deep disappointment.

It pierced her heart like a shard of ice.

Yuki looked down again and stood up from his seat without a word. His back no longer spoke to Mio at all.

She tried to return to the conversation with her friends, but no words came out. She attempted her perfect smile—but her facial muscles twitched unnaturally.

“Mio-chan? Are you okay? You look pale.”

Asked Saki Fujita with concern.

“It's nothing. Just tired.”

Mio forced a smile and replied. But that smile was no longer perfect. It looked warped, cracked—as if the mask she had worn for so long was beginning to shatter, little by little.

Yuki left the classroom without a word. Mio could only watch his back as he walked away.

And deep inside her heart, something that had long been grinding in place began to creak, slowly, but surely, falling out of sync.