CHAPTER 15
(Takkun isn't coming to class today…)
Kiyomi exhaled, the sound lost in the morning bustle as he made his way toward the lecture hall.
Throughout the first period, the professor's voice became nothing more than background noise. Kiyomi spent most of his time hunched over his desk, checking his phone and tapping out messages to Takumi on LONE.
Ding.
Takumi: I'm on my way to Hakuyou.
Takumi: Wish me luck.
Kiyomi: Good luck, Takkun.
(He won't be here today, I guess.)
When the next class began, the room filled with the rustle of notebooks and the low hum of student chatter, but Kiyomi remained buried in his screen.
Kiyomi: Did you play already?
Takumi: No…
Takumi: Just watching another match.
Takumi: Reimeikan is strong.
Takumi: Wish me luck.
Kiyomi: Hope you win.
Kiyomi: Hehe…
Takumi: Why hehe?
Kiyomi: Nothing…
Kiyomi: I think you should focus on your match.
Takumi: Okay…
Kiyomi was so absorbed in the conversation that he didn't realize the seat beside him was no longer empty. A boy had sat down, leaning back comfortably, quietly watching the way Kiyomi's shoulders shook with a small giggle.
"Was it Takumi?" the boy asked.
"Yeah," Kiyomi replied without looking up, his eyes still glued to the glowing screen.
"Can I read your messages?"
"No… it's private," Kiyomi said, giggling softly as he began to tuck the phone away.
The boy leaned closer, his breathing suddenly audible in the small space between them. The warmth of his presence was immediate, yet Kiyomi remained unbothered, assuming it was just another student.
Then the boy whispered, his voice a sharp blade cutting through the quiet of the room:
"But I want to know more about Sakura-chan."
(Eh?)
At that moment, Kiyomi froze.
The air in his lungs seemed to turn to ice. Slowly—very slowly—he turned his head, his neck stiff and heavy, until he was looking directly at the person beside him.
There he was.
Izumi.
When their eyes finally met, Izumi's smile was sweet and gentle, the kind of expression that belonged on a prince. Yet, in the narrow space between their desks, the air felt stiff and suffocating, as if the oxygen were being drained from the room.
(Izumi-kun? What's he doing here? Why here?)
Kiyomi swallowed hard, his throat feeling dry as sandpaper. He forced a smile, though his lips felt numb.
"Goo—Good morning, Izumi-kun..."
"Good morning, Sakura-chan," Izumi teased, the name rolling off his tongue with a terrifying, playful ease.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about..."
"I think you do," Izumi claimed, his eyes locking onto Kiyomi's with a focus that made it impossible to look away.
(Okay, Kiyomi... Let's calm down... Don't say anything stupid...)
"Don't you remember what we did in Shinsei Department Store?" Izumi added. His lips stretched into a slow, deliberate smirk.
Suddenly, the memory hit Kiyomi like a physical weight. The sights and sounds of the department store flashed into his mind with blinding clarity—the thing they did together. And most importantly, the way Kiyomi had kissed him.
(Oh no! He remembers that?)
"I have no idea what you're talking about... sorry..." Kiyomi replied, his voice barely a whisper as he tried to retreat into a lie that was already crumbling.
Izumi didn't back off. Instead, he moved his seat closer to Kiyomi. The screech of the chair against the floor was loud in the quiet hall, closing the distance until there was almost no gap left between them.
"But, weren't you the one who kissed me first, Sakura-chan?"
Izumi's hand moved then, sliding onto Kiyomi's thigh. He began slowly rubbing it, his touch confident and possessive. Kiyomi didn't resist. He sat frozen, his pulse drumming in his ears. He was conflicted—not because it was wrong, but because he feared something else entirely.
(What if we got caught?)
Then the bell rang.
The sound was loud and quick, a sudden intrusion that should have shattered the moment. Yet, to both Kiyomi and Izumi, the ringing felt long and drawn out, a bridge between the lecture and the secret world they were building.
As the sound finally faded into the rustle of students packing their bags, Izumi smiled one last time.
"Later, Sakura-chan~"
He stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and disappeared into the crowd of students leaving the hall.
(What was that about?)
The class had ended before anything more could happen. Something that, deep down, excited Kiyomi.
After class, Kiyomi's thoughts remained stuck.
(Should I tell Takkun? No…)
He wandered through the main building, drifting from hallway to hallway like a ghost. His mind was so occupied with Izumi that he even forgot to eat, the physical sensation of hunger completely drowned out by the noise in his head.
(How about Miyu? Maybe not…)
Soon the afternoon class began. For some reason, Kiyomi chose to sit in the very back row—the row where no one noticed you. The row that never received any attention.
(Is he going to come?)
He didn't have to wait long.
Not long after the bell rang, Izumi stepped into the room, trailing just behind Hotaru. Her expression was a jagged mix of anger and sadness, her eyes red-rimmed as she watched Izumi bypass the empty seats near her.
Instead, he walked straight to the back.
His eyes locked on his target.
"Good choice for a seat," Izumi smiled, the expression light and airy as he took the seat beside Kiyomi. "Did you intentionally choose the back row so no one would see us?"
(Yes… I mean no… absolutely not…)
Kiyomi didn't answer. He simply shook his head. But the moment he saw Izumi's face, his heart began racing again, pounding loudly in his chest like a drum.
Izumi's chair was close. Again.
"Wh-why are you here?" Kiyomi asked.
"Because you're also here~"
"Izumi-kun…"
"Yes, Sakura-chan?"
"Why did you steal Hotaru from me?"
Izumi immediately chuckled. To him, the question sounded like a joke. Fortunately, he managed to control his laughter.
He simply shrugged.
"Do you think Takumi will be here tomorrow?" Izumi asked, already moving on to the next topic.
"Why do you ask?"
"I don't know… maybe because there's something else I want to show you."
Izumi reached for his phone and angled it toward Kiyomi.
The screen displayed a picture of Sakura from Cerb-3ros.
(What does he want?)
For a moment, a heavy silence settled between them. The two simply looked at each other—one with a mocking grin, the other with wide, excited eyes.
Then Izumi finally spoke.
"Does Takumi know about this?" His tone was mocking.
He waited for an answer.
None came.
Kiyomi couldn't answer—more accurately, he refused to.
"Give me your phone," Izumi said, extending his hand.
Hesitantly, his fingers trembling, Kiyomi handed it over. Izumi quickly added Kiyomi on LONE before returning the phone with a sharp tap against the desk. Then he leaned back slightly, relaxing into his chair.
"I have one little request from you…"
"What is it?"
(What does he want? Seriously… please don't let it be something weird…)
"You see that wench over there?" Izumi said, subtly pointing toward Hotaru. "I want you to keep her away from me."
Strangely, Kiyomi felt a small wave of relief.
"And how do I do that?"
"Tomorrow, you'll dress as Sakura-chan for the whole day."
Kiyomi froze.
(What do you mean by that? Eh? What? There's no way I can do that. If someone finds out, my life is over…)
"I'm not forcing you, by the way," Izumi added casually, raising his hands slightly.
"What if I don't?" Kiyomi asked softly.
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk."
"Kiyomi-kun… what will Takumi think if he sees this picture.?"
Kiyomi immediately nodded.
(Please keep Takkun away from this.)
"Good girl," Izumi said, placing his hand on Kiyomi's head and gently patting it.
(Yes daddy~)
After the final class ended, Kiyomi left the lecture hall faster than intended, his footsteps echoing sharply down the empty corridor. The late afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the courtyard as he took a side path he rarely used, winding past the university's old art building. A group of stray cats slinked across the path, startling him just enough to yelp and break into a nervous laugh.
He kept walking, glancing over his shoulder as if Izumi might appear from behind a column. Each step quickened his heartbeat—not from fear, exactly, but from the weight of anticipation.
By the time he reached the small convenience store near the campus edge, he realized he hadn't eaten all day. He bought a sandwich, barely tasting it, and shoved it into his bag as he made his way home.
Once inside, he didn't sit on the bed. Instead, he leaned against the window, the city stretching below him, lights flickering like impatient stars.
Then his phone vibrated.
Takumi: Guess who won?
Kiyomi: Who?
Takumi: Guess…
Kiyomi: I don't know…
Takumi: Stop playing… Just guess…
Kiyomi giggled, tapping out playful replies to Takumi. The conversation lasted long enough to make the hours blur.
Then, at midnight—
Ding.
Izumi: Sakura-chan~
Kiyomi's heart raced again.
(How should I respond?)
He paused for a breath, but his fingers moved on their own.
Kiyomi: Yes?
Kiyomi: Daddy~
(Wait? What did I just write? No, this is wrong!)
He scrambled to delete the message. But it was too late. Izumi had already read it.
Izumi: You're funny…
Then a new message popped up—a full video of Cerb-3ros' debut performance.
Kiyomi swallowed. His head turned and stared into the mirror across the room. He didn't see his own reflection. Instead, he saw Sakura.