After lunchtime, in class.
When Itsuki returned, there were only five minutes left before lunchtime ended. The two quickly gathered their things and headed back to class, walking side by side down the quiet hallway. The sound of their footsteps echoed faintly against the tiled floor, a steady rhythm that filled the silence between them.
By the time they reached their classroom, most of the students were already seated. The air was alive with low chatter and laughter, the kind of noise that made the room feel warm and familiar. The teacher hadn't arrived yet — giving everyone a few more moments of freedom before lessons began.
Sando and Itsuki slipped into their usual seats at the back, the corner that always seemed to belong to just the two of them.
"Man, lunch went by too fast," Itsuki groaned, slumping into his chair with an exaggerated sigh.
Sando cast him a sidelong glance, his voice steady and calm. "You say that every single day."
Itsuki grinned and twirled his pen between his fingers, his usual playful energy returning. "Well, that's because it is true every single day."
Sando exhaled softly — something close to a laugh — and leaned back in his chair. They talked quietly, just like they always did. For a brief while, it felt like nothing had changed — the same peace, the same comfort, the same rhythm between them that Sando quietly cherished.
But underneath that calm surface, a thought kept clawing at the back of his mind. It had been there since lunch, growing heavier with each passing minute.
What did Hana say to him?
The curiosity burned too strongly to ignore. He turned slightly toward Itsuki, eyes sharp though his tone stayed light, almost casual.
"So," he began, tracing his finger idly against the edge of his desk, "what did Hana want to talk about?"
Itsuki shrugged, a small, carefree smile playing on his lips. "Just another confession… but it's okay, I'm used to it," he said with a soft laugh, the kind that came so easily to him.
"Oh..." Sando let out a quiet chuckle in response, but the sound faded almost instantly. The smile that had flickered across his face vanished, replaced by something unreadable. His gaze dropped to the desk, and he shifted slightly in his seat, turning to face the front of the class.
The light in his eyes dulled. His posture stiffened.
"You okay, Sando?" Itsuki asked, leaning a little closer, concern threading through his voice.
Sando didn't answer right away. He simply shook his head, his face blank—gloomy, distant, almost hollow.
Itsuki watched him for a moment, confusion flickering across his features. He thought about pressing the question but decided against it. Maybe Sando was just tired. Maybe it was nothing.
So, with a small shrug, Itsuki leaned back in his chair and went back to spinning his pen between his fingers, pretending not to notice the faint shadow that had fallen over Sando's expression.
Sando's hands curled into tight fists at his sides, knuckles whitening. The words stayed locked inside him — a brutal, private prayer — but his face betrayed nothing. That bitch… I want her fucking dead tomorrow. She doesn't deserve to live.
A slow, cold calm settled over him after the flare of rage, like ice spreading under skin. His breathing evened out; heartbeat steady. He forced his fingers to unclench, palms smoothing against his knees as if nothing had happened. Across the desk, Itsuki hummed to himself and kept twirling his pen, blissfully unaware.
Sando let out a sound that could have been a laugh or a sigh, an almost-human noise that dissolved into the classroom's low murmur. He tucked the thought back into the dark place where he kept the rest of his dangerous plans and stared at the front of the room, eyes empty, expression unreadable.
Class passed faster than either of them realized. One moment, the sun was still bright through the windows; the next, the final bell rang, marking the end of the day. The low chatter of students filled the room as everyone began packing up — the clatter of pens, the rustle of notebooks, the scrape of chairs against the floor.
At the front, the teacher stood by the desk, smiling tiredly as she offered a few words before dismissal. "Remember to review your notes for tomorrow's quiz. And please, take care on your way home," she said gently, her voice almost drowned out by the growing noise of shuffling feet.
One by one, students stood, pushing their chairs neatly under the tables. The once lively classroom quieted as they began to file out.
Sando and Itsuki moved at their usual pace — not rushing, but not lingering either. They packed their bags in silence, the routine so familiar it almost felt mechanical. When they finally stood, Sando glanced briefly toward the window, watching the orange light spill across the floorboards.
Then, without a word, the two stepped out into the hallway, their footsteps echoing softly as the classroom door closed behind them.
Sando walked beside Itsuki, one hand gripping the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder. The hallway was filled with the sounds of after-school chatter — shoes squeaking against the floor, laughter echoing from nearby classrooms. Despite the noise, there was a quiet weight in Sando's chest, a gloomy heaviness he refused to let show.
Instead, he wore his usual gentle smile — the one everyone recognized, the one that hid too much.
Without warning, Sando reached out and placed a hand on top of Itsuki's neatly styled brown hair, ruffling it playfully until it was a complete mess.
"A–Ah! Sando!" Itsuki yelped, trying to push him away. "This hair took forever to style!"
Sando chuckled softly, ignoring the resistance. "You look nicer with your hair a little messy like this," he said, finally letting go.
Before Itsuki could retort, Sando reached out again and poked his cheek, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
Itsuki puffed his cheeks in mock annoyance, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward anyway — the familiar warmth between them briefly washing away the shadows lurking behind Sando's eyes.
Nearby students watched their playful banter with quiet amusement. A few girls exchanged soft laughs and then drifted into a whispering cluster, trading looks that were equal parts delight and mischief.
"Look how close they are… that's basically a couple!" one of them said, eyes sparkling.
"I know, right? I'm pretty sure their relationship's closer than some married couples," another added, leaning in conspiratorially.
The others nodded, smiling as if they'd just uncovered a delicious secret. They were fujoshis [1] — girls who adored anything that hinted at boys' love — and the sight of Sando and Itsuki together had them giddy. One of them, rubbing her palms together like someone plotting a delightful prank, spoke up in a low, eager voice.
"Let's matchmake them… hehehe."
The three of them burst into excited whispers, already imagining the fun they could stir up.
A few minutes later, the school was empty — the once-bustling hallways now silent, every classroom dark. Not a single student lingered behind.
Outside, the late afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the pavement as Sando and Itsuki walked side by side down the familiar road leading home. Since they lived in the same neighborhood, it had become their quiet routine — the peaceful walk after school where the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them.
They stopped by a small convenience store along the way, the kind with a flickering neon sign and the faint hum of an old refrigerator inside. Itsuki immediately made a beeline for the ice cream freezer, his eyes lighting up the moment he spotted his favorite popsicle.
He grabbed two and turned to Sando with a grin. "You're paying, right?"
Sando let out a quiet sigh, crossing his arms. "You picked it. You pay."
Itsuki only laughed, waving off his protest. "Come on, you always pay. Don't ruin tradition!"
Sando rolled his eyes but still reached for his wallet, muttering under his breath as he handed the cashier the money. "You're impossible."
Itsuki just unwrapped his ice cream and took a big bite, beaming. "And yet you still stick around."
Sando didn't answer — he only smiled faintly, taking his own ice cream as they stepped back out into the fading sunlight.
The day ended with the two of them walking home, ice creams in hand. They laughed softly at small jokes, shared funny stories, and even recalled random, strange moments from their childhoods. The ordinary rhythm of their steps, the gentle warmth of the late afternoon sun, and the comfort of being together made the world feel simple and light.
Even in moments like this, though, a darker thought lingered at the edge of Sando's mind — the thought of Hana, and the plan forming to get rid of her.
But he didn't let it show. His lips curved into a calm, pleasant smile, masking the storm beneath. And so, side by side, they continued their walk, arriving home together as if nothing was amiss.
[1] Meaning "Rotten girl" in Japanese, is a term used for young female fans who enjoy fictional romantic relationship between 2 men.