Yes… this warm feeling eating dinner with a family it's… nice.
"Say, Yukito, son," my dad said, setting his chopsticks down. "How'd things go with Miyuki?"
"H-huh?" I blinked. "Oh, that… yeah. Rejected."
"See? I told you, son. How many rejections do you need before you finally understand she doesn't like you? If I were you, I would've given up by now. But, as always, you never listen to your old man."
My mom reached out and smacked his hand with her chopsticks. "Shush, hon."
Then she turned to me with a soft look.
"Yukito, sweetie… I understand how you feel. I know how passionate you are about Miyuki. You two have been childhood friends since you were babies. I understand how much you care about her… how much you love her. And I support that. If you really don't want to give up yet, how about I share a few tricks to win a woman's heart?"
She raised her chest proudly, clearly ready to give a full lecture.
I chuckled under my breath.
"Thanks… but… Dad might be right. I don't think I can keep doing this. I'm… giving up on her."
I smiled faintly, eyes lowering to my bowl, my voice laced with quiet sorrow.
It's true—I still have feelings for Miyuki. Deep down, I am still Yukito. It's only natural to want to keep trying. But knowing how this story ends… knowing there's no chance… why keep going if it's all pointless?
"Well, I—"
I glanced up, only to see my family staring at me in silence, shocked expressions frozen on their faces.
What…?
Did I say something wrong?
Wait—did I say that out loud!?
"Oh, Yukito…" my mother gasped, covering her mouth as her eyes shimmered with tears.
"Took you long enough, you big buffoon of a brother. Hmph," Sakiko muttered, crossing her arms with a slight pout.
"I'm proud of you, son," my father said, nodding solemnly. "It's hard… giving up. But it's a part of life."
"Oh, my sweet boy…" Mom pulled me into another suffocating embrace. "Miyuki's a good girl… but how could she hurt my baby boy like that…"
"Ack—okay, okay, Mom! Enough hugging already!" I flailed a bit and gently freed myself from her hold.
"Well… now that it's come to this," she said with a sigh, brushing her bangs aside, "I was going to ask you to bring some food to Miyuki's place. Just a little dinner to share. It's only a few houses down, a minute's walk at most… but I guess I'll have to ask your sister now…"
Sakiko looked up at her like, why me?
I smiled gently. "Nah, it's fine, Mom. I'll do it. I'm done eating anyway. Let's just say… this'll be the last time I see her as a love interest. From now on, I'll only see her as a friend."
I paused for a moment, then added, "Of course, the feelings won't disappear right away. It'll take time. But I'll get there."
Mom blinked, taken aback by my maturity. Then she smiled. "Alright, Yukito. If you insist. The containers and utensils are already packed—they're in the plastic bag on the kitchen counter."
"Got it. I'll head out now."
I picked up my plate, placed it in the sink, and washed my hands.
After drying off, I grabbed the plastic bag and made my way out the door toward Miyuki's house.
---
Arriving at Miyuki's house, I felt my nerves creeping up my spine like a chill in the wind. My heart thumped a bit louder than usual—but I took a breath, manned up, and stepped forward. My finger pressed the doorbell.
Here goes nothing.
The door creaked open, revealing Miyuki standing there in her usual casual elegance. Her eyes widened a bit.
"Eh, Yukito-kun?" she blinked, a bit tense, her hand still gripping the doorknob.
And then—
"Are your parents home, Miyu—"
My words froze as another figure stepped into view.
Makino Kichiro.
Right. Was this the scene where they were supposed to make out, isn't it?
Did I just… crash a moment?
Turns out, I didn't even need to lift a finger. They were already halfway there without me interfering. Guess I was right—the story was flowing just as the manga had planned.
Still… seeing Kichiro here actually helped. The nervous weight in my chest lessened a bit.
"Yo," I said, flashing a smile. "Hey, Kichiro. And Miyuki—my mom made a ton of food, and she wanted to share some. Since your parents aren't home yet, we figured you might appreciate it."
Kichiro gave a nod but walked silently back into the living room without a word.
Oi, you bastard. Don't just leave me here!
"Well... anyway, I just came to drop this off," I scratched the back of my neck, chuckling awkwardly. "I'll be going now, haha~"
But as I turned to leave, something tugged on my shirt.
Miyuki.
She stepped in front of the door and gently closed it behind her.
"Can we talk? Alone."
Huh? This… never happened in the manga.
"Uh… sure, le—"
Before I could finish, she grabbed my hand and pulled me with her, walking quickly away from the house.
"W-wait, hold on—what about—?"
"It's fine. He'll understand. Let's go to the park alone… let's chat."
"O-okay…" I mumbled, almost tripping. Jeez… she's scary when she gets serious.
Her hand was soft but firm as she pulled me along, her snowy-white hair swaying gently under the silver moonlight. Her slender frame glowed under the dim streetlights, and her bright blue eyes flickered like crystal glass.
Kichiro… you lucky bastard.
---
Miyuki POV
"I'm sorry. I can't go out with you."
I told him, flatly. The guy who's been hounding me non-stop, like a fly that won't buzz off.
God, he's so annoying.
Why can't he just—
I glanced at him again, expecting the usual look of disappointment.
But this time… he looked lost.
What? Seriously? Why is he acting like it's his first rejection from me?
I couldn't even count how many times he's confessed—it's like his seasonal hobby at this point. Shouldn't he be used to it by now?
He looked around the area slowly, almost disoriented.
Weird.
I didn't say another word. Just walked off.
I stole a single glance back.
He was just standing there… that empty look in his eyes again.
What the hell is his deal?
But I shook it off. Probably just another one of his "tragic boy" acts to make me feel guilty.
Not this time.
---
Back in the classroom, I spotted Kichiro.
Now there's a guy I wouldn't mind spending time with. If I had to choose between him and Yukito, well—it's not even a contest.
He's kind, calm, and attractive. He treats people with warmth, never forcing his feelings onto anyone.
Unlike someone.
Okay, okay, Yukito isn't all bad… He's just so childish sometimes. Always jumping to conclusions, blurting things out, never reading the damn room. But… he is still our childhood friend. That counts for something.
"Miyuki~ you're here!"
Kichiro's voice rang across the room as he pulled me into a hug. It was warm—he only ever hugged me like this. I felt… special.
"So, what happened with Yukito?"
"Ah, Yukito-kun… yeah, I rejected him. Again," I said with a shrug. "I don't know why he keeps confessing. I get that his intentions are… decent, but still."
"He's our friend. And honestly, who wouldn't fall for someone as beautiful as you?"
His words made my chest flutter.
That smile… It's so gentle. No one's ever looked at me the way he does.
I've had guys confess to me left and right, but none of them ever came close to him.
Athletic, thoughtful, grounded…
He's every girl's dream guy.
"Well, he probably won't stop anytime soon. He's my childhood friend after all. I'd still love to see you two get together," Kichiro teased.
"Hah! In his dreams."
We both laughed… until the door slid open.
Yukito.
"Ah, Yukito! You're here!" Kichiro waved him over. "Why don't you walk home with Miyuki? Maybe hang out for a bit?"
What?
Is he seriously setting me up with him after what just happened?
Of course, Yukito's gonna accept. He always—
"Ah... no, really," Yukito cut in, his voice flat. "I'm not in the mood to hang out today. I just wanna head home alone."
Everything… stopped.
What?
Did he just say no?
To me?
"What's wrong?" Kichiro asked, frowning.
"You're usually all over Miyuki," he added. "Even after, y'know..."
Exactly. That's the thing. Even after I rejected him—he always lingered.
But now… nothing?
Something's off.
There's this weird, tight feeling in my chest. I placed a hand over my heart without even thinking.
Why… does it hurt?
I don't get it.
This is what I wanted, right?
So why does it feel like I just lost something important?
Why? Why? why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why—
"Hey, earth to Miyuki, you there~?"
Kichiro's voice snapped me out of it. I calmed my breathing slowly and looked around.
Yukito… was gone.
Just like that.
Why did it feel like I did something terribly wrong?
Why did I feel regret?
Why.. do i feel like I've lost something valuable..?
---
"Hey, Miyuki… wanna walk home together?" Kichiro offered, his smile soft as always.
I stared at him.
It warmed my chest.
"…Yeah. Thanks. I'd love that."
---
We reached my house—not alone, of course.
"Hey, Kichiro, thanks for walking me home… You can go now."
"Eehh? Let me rest for a bit~ My legs are killing me."
I rolled my eyes but smiled despite myself.
"Seriously, our house is literally like five minutes from here—"
"I just wanted to hang out with you for a little. Can't I?"
He gently held my hand.
Our eyes locked. The sincerity in his gaze…
It was hard to look away.
My heart skipped.
"…F-fine."
I sighed and looked down. He's so unfair sometimes…
But… it wasn't bad.
---
Inside the living room, we both sat down. The lights cast a soft glow across the walls. It was quiet… almost too quiet.
And yet—
"Ah... no, really. I'm not in the mood to hang out today."
Yukito's voice echoed in my mind again.
It wouldn't stop.
"Miyuki… is something wrong?"
"No, it's noth—"
I turned to him—and froze.
We were close.
Too close.
His hopeful gaze. His body leaned toward me.
I panicked.
I backed away quickly, breath catching in my throat.
His expression turned puzzled.
W-what the hell was that?
Why did I…?
It felt like someone screamed in my mind—don't do it.
"I-I'm sorry—I…"
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang.
I jumped to my feet and rushed to open it.
And there he was.
Shinohara Yukito.
Holding a plastic bag filled with food containers.
I was about to say something—maybe a joke, maybe a thank you, I don't even know anymore—but then he looked at me.
He stared at me for a few seconds.
And in that moment… something inside me faltered.
Because the way he looked at me—
It wasn't the same.
His gaze… it wasn't warm. It wasn't soft. It wasn't that gentle, almost embarrassingly devoted look he always gave me.
It was distant.
Detached.
Somewhat kind and cold, even.
Like I was just another person in the room. Like I was nothing special.
A gaze so foreign, so unlike him… I almost didn't recognize the boy standing in front of me.
That soft, loving gaze—the one that used to make me roll my eyes, the one I took for granted.
It was Gone.