The classroom felt different after Sayuri's bold confession to Akio. Whispers swirled like restless leaves in the corridors, students piecing together fragments of the scene.
Akio was quieter than usual. He didn't joke as much, didn't even spar with Peryn like before. He was clearly processing Sayuri's words. Sayuri herself wore a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes—like she was proud of being brave, but also waiting, tense, for his answer.
And then there was me.
I wasn't even directly involved in their triangle, but somehow the energy pulled me in. Maybe because Peryn kept watching. He noticed Sayuri's glances at Akio, Akio's distracted mood, and my own attempt to act like none of this mattered. Except it did.
Especially when Peryn caught me once—hair loose, brushing past my shoulders instead of my usual tied-up style. His eyes lingered for a second too long, and I swear my heartbeat went off-beat. He didn't say anything, but the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips was loud enough.
"Did you lose a bet or something?" he teased later, casually pointing at my hair.
"No," I muttered, though my face warmed. "Just… felt like it."
"Hmm." He tilted his head. "Looks different. Good different."
That tiny compliment replayed in my head the whole day like a broken cassette.
Meanwhile, Sayuri was going out of her way to bump into Akio between classes, offering to share notes, saving him a seat. Her friends hyped her up, whispering like she'd already won. Akio… still hadn't given her a proper answer.
One afternoon, during group work, I caught Peryn's gaze again. He wasn't looking at his notebook. He wasn't even pretending to be focused on the lesson. He was watching me, as if he was trying to figure out why I was smiling faintly at a joke from someone else.
And it hit me—while Sayuri was risking it all for Akio, I was slipping into the same madness, only quieter. A madness named Peryn.
Maybe it was the little things—how he cared when I said I wasn't feeling well, or how he joked just enough to break my serious mood. Or maybe it was just the way he saw me, without filters, without masks.
The whole class could be chaos, but his attention had a way of making the noise blur.
But what scared me more than anything?
If Sayuri could be brave enough to say it out loud, what was stopping me?
I wasn't ready for the answer.