Yuka, sensing Jun’s coldness, sat up frantically. "Jun, please believe me. I only did it because I’m so in love with you. When you aren't around, my head is a storm of thoughts about you. This is the first time I’ve ever felt this way about anyone. I couldn’t control myself. I just kept thinking of ways to make you depend on me, to make you choose me over everyone else..."

  You almost succeeded, Jun thought.

  But his question remained. "Is that what love is to you? Disregarding someone’s feelings and systematically destroying their life just to own them? I could never do that. Why was it so easy for you?"

  "I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know I was wrong. Please, just tell me what I have to do to make you forgive me." Yuka looked around the room, her eyes eventually landing on the high, open window of the archives.

  "If I jumped... right now... would you forgive me then?" She started to stand up, her movements jerky and desperate. Jun had to grab her arm to keep her from bolting.

  He knew this type of person—he’d dealt with them in his previous life. They were the ones who would set a house on fire just to prove they’d die in the flames for you.

  Yuka turned, gripping his hand with a tearful, terrifying smile. "You still care. You wouldn't have grabbed me if you didn't. Knowing that... I can breathe again. These past few days, when you were treating me like a stranger, I felt like my heart was literally rotting in my chest."

  Jun let out a heavy sigh.

  Usually, this is where the story would spiral into a toxic, mutually-assured destruction.

  Then, the door was kicked open.

  A girl marched in, stepped directly between them, and tore their hands apart. Before Yuka could even blink, a stinging slap echoed through the room.

  Haruka Mochizuki spat out four words:

  "Then jump, you bitch."

  ___

  It happened with the precision of a professional hit. Haruka’s movements were fluid, aggressive, and faster than a heartbeat.

  By the time Jun’s brain caught up, the red mark was already blooming on Yuka’s cheek.

  "Everyone, calm down!" Jun immediately stepped between them, putting his back to Yuka to shield her from a second strike.

  Noticing his protective stance, Yuka let out a small, jagged laugh behind him. Haruka, however, just scowled.

  "Tomatsu, are you okay? Let me see." Jun turned slightly.

  Yuka lowered her hand, looking at him with dazed, worshipful eyes. The slap had been hard. "It’s going to swell," Jun noted, his voice clinical. "You need ice."

  "She deserves a lot worse than a bruise," Haruka said, crossing her arms. Her voice was pure ice. "She’s the one who trashed your reputation, and now she’s standing here performing some 'tragic heroine' act to guilt-trip you. She’s weaponizing your empathy, Jun."

  Seeing that Jun was still tending to Yuka, Haruka’s expression darkened. She stepped forward and pointed a finger at the window. "Tell her to jump! Let’s see if she’s actually a martyr or just a liar!"

  Yuka’s eyes remained fixed on Jun, waiting for his command.

  Jun sighed. Regardless of what Yuka had done, he wasn't going to have a suicide on his conscience.

  "Haruka Mochizuki, I assume? You seem very invested in a grudge that isn't yours."

  Haruka’s eyes widened, offended. "I just hate people who play dirty. Don't tell me you're actually falling for her act?"

  Jun cut her off. "You’ve already done the screaming and the hitting. What’s left for me to do? Join in?"

  Yuka’s heart sank. She realized that her "sincere" offer of death hadn't moved him at all.

  Haruka, on the other hand, looked triumphant. She let out a sharp little laugh, revealing a single, sharp canine tooth, and stepped into Jun’s personal space.

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  "For the record, the reason your suspension was lifted had nothing to do with her. She sat on her hands while you were being dragged. I was the one who cleared your name."

  Jun finally took a proper look at the girl who had crashed the room.

  She had "doe eyes"—large, liquid, and incredibly expressive. She had a small, delicate face, but her slightly upturned nose gave her a stubborn, regal air. She was a bit shorter than Yuka, with dark, wavy hair that cascaded down her back.

  She was standing close enough for him to smell her perfume—something expensive and floral.

  "I appreciate the help, Mochizuki," Jun said, dropping the "perfect student" act. "But why are you acting like we’re old friends?"

  Haruka wasn't bothered by his bluntness. "You might not know me, but I’ve done a deep dive on you. Before I stepped in, I had you thoroughly vetted. By the way, the foundation my family runs is the primary donor for the orphanage you grew up in."

  Jun felt a twinge of irony. He’d hired a cheap detective to find a traitor, while a billionaire heiress had been running a background check on his entire life.

  "I have a lot of questions for you, but right now, I have to get Tomatsu to the nurse."

  Haruka’s face fell. "Why are you still being a 'nice guy' to her?"

  "You're misinterpreting things, Mochizuki. In my mind, Tomatsu is just a classmate. I treat her exactly the same way I treat any other student."

  Jun helped Yuka up, letting her lean against him to hide her face as they walked. Her body was soft, but he felt absolutely no warmth from the contact.

  He had just fixed his reputation. If people saw him leaving a room with a girl who had a fresh handprint on her face, the gossip mill would start spinning again. No matter how much they hated each other in private, they had to maintain the appearance of social harmony. That was the only way to survive in this school.

  Two had entered the room; three left.

  They walked down the hallway in a strange, silent line: Jun and Yuka in front, with Haruka trailing a few paces behind like a shadow. The setting sun cast three long, jagged shadows against the lockers.

  Yuka leaned into Jun’s ear and whispered, "Jun, I love you."

  Haruka didn't hear a word.

  In the nurse's office, Jun set Yuka down. The school nurse, a woman named Misawa, looked up. "Another injury, Jun? You're becoming a regular."

  Jun didn't answer; he just pointed to Yuka’s face. Misawa had a habit of flirting with him, and he wasn't in the mood to play along.

  Misawa finally noticed the bruise. She looked at Haruka standing at the door, then back at Jun. "The girlfriend?" she asked, nodding toward Haruka. Then she pointed at Yuka. "The side-piece?"

  Jun just walked out. This was exactly why he hated the faculty here.

  He leaned against the wall outside. Haruka was gone.

  As he waited, he fell back into his thoughts. Now that he knew the System was active again, he had no way of knowing which girls were "real" and which were being manipulated by the machine. He didn't want to be "captured." He could accept natural love, but he refused to be a prize in a game.

  A juice box suddenly waved in front of his face.

  He looked up. It was Haruka, holding two cartons of grocery-store vegetable juice.

  "Thanks," Jun said, taking one.

  Haruka watched him take the drink, looking visibly relieved. She tilted her chin up, trying to look imposing.

  "We’re friends now. Don't forget it," she declared.

  She was barely five-foot-three, but she had the ego of a titan. She mimicked his posture, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the door.

  Jun allowed a small smile to slip through. "Fine."

  Haruka suddenly stepped in front of him, standing on her tiptoes. "I said we're friends! That means no more of that fake, 'perfect' smile and no more of that rehearsed 'polite' tone. Be real with me."

  "You want me to be a 'real' friend?" Jun looked at her. Her expression was dead serious, her lips slightly pouted. It was a very stubborn kind of cute.

  "I didn't help you for free!" She dodged the question. "You owe me. Big time."

  "Does being your friend count as the repayment?" Jun bargained.

  "As if! I’ll tell you how to pay me back later." Haruka looked away.

  Fair enough, Jun thought. A debt was often safer than "unconditional" kindness.

  Once Yuka was patched up, the three of them parted ways at the gate.

  Jun left first. Yuka and Haruka both stayed behind, watching him until he disappeared.

  "Do you like him too?" Yuka asked suddenly.

  "Stay away from him," Haruka snapped. "If I find out you've touched a hair on his head again, you’ll wish you'd jumped out that window."

  With that, Haruka climbed into a silver luxury sedan and drove away.

  At home, Jun showered and went out onto his balcony with the juice Haruka had given him.

  The moon was bright—a perfect night for a drink. Something from the Mochizuki family must be top-shelf, right?

  At the same time, in her massive bedroom, Haruka looked at the identical juice box on her desk—the cheap stuff she’d grabbed from a vending machine on a whim. She thought about his smile in the sunset.

  She took a sip.

  "Ugh, this tastes like dirt..."

  ______

  Jun usually biked to school. It was a few miles of quiet suburbs, past the local park and a few intersections.

  He hopped off his bike at the gate with his usual grace. The girl on gate duty watched him, mesmerized. He gave her a polite "Good morning" and wheeled his bike toward the racks.

  "Hey, did you see that?" one of the gate guards whispered to her friend. "Who is he? He’s gorgeous."

  "Are you living under a rock? That’s Jun Matsue. But don't bother—word is he was seen leaving school with Haruka Mochizuki and Yuka Tomatsu yesterday. You're not even in the same league."

  Inside the building, Jun ran into Haruka in the hallway. Her hair was down today, making her look softer, more sophisticated.

  "Morning, Mochizuki."

  Haruka waited for him to speak first, then gave a curt nod. "Matsue," she said, before disappearing into the next classroom over.

  "Mochizuki—wait, you guys are on a first-name basis now?" her friends squealed inside.

  Jun went to his own class and sat down. The seat to his left was empty. He turned to the girl on his right, Miya Mizushima. "Is Tomatsu not here yet?"

  Miya shook her head, her high ponytail swaying.

  Jun didn't press it. He started getting his books ready for the first period.

  "You know," Miya said, turning to him. "If you’re interested in Yuka, you should probably just forgive her. She didn't tell me what happened, but she spent all night asking the girls in the group chat how to make a guy stop being mad at her."

  Jun didn't deny it. "And what did you tell her?"

  Miya opened her mouth to answer, but Yuka hurried into the room at that exact moment.

  "Sorry I’m late!"

  Yuka sat down just as the bell rang. The teacher walked in, and the conversation died.

  A few minutes into the lecture, a folded note landed on Jun’s desk from the right.

  He opened it. Honestly? When it comes to you, Matsue, I don't think any of us have an answer.

  He glanced at Yuka on his left. She had faint dark circles under her eyes. When she noticed him looking, she gave him a weak, fragile smile.

  The first period was Literature. The teacher, a bearded man, was lecturing on foreign classics. Jun found himself doodling in his notebook instead of taking notes:

  What do I do about Yuka?

  How do I kill the System?

  High school exit strategy?

  The first question was the hardest. He could pretend to forgive her—that would be the "easy" path. But could he ever actually trust her? Why should he force himself to forgive someone who tried to break him?

  "Matsue? Since you're so deep in thought, why don't you read the next poem for us?"

  Jun stood up, realizing he’d been caught. He looked around for the page number. Miya didn't move.

  Yuka, however, tilted her book toward him, her finger pointing at a specific stanza.

  Jun picked up the text and began to read:

  "May is fading now, beneath a relentless, golden sun..."

  ***********************************************

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