Satoru froze for a second. "Ha? Again?"
"Again what?" Akane puffed her cheeks into a full pout. "Don't think I didn't catch those lyrics: 'why am I the only one alone,' 'no need to hold hands on a spring stroll'… actually…"
Her smile dimmed, turning faintly melancholic. "That song was for Kurashiki, wasn't it?"
CHOP.
A lightning-fast hand-chop landed squarely on her forehead.
"Ow…!"
CHOP.
Again.
"That hurts!"
CHOP CHOP CHOP!
"Kyaa—!" Akane yelped, throwing up the bento box like a shield just in time. Satoru's hand stopped a centimeter away. She peeked over the edge and caught it: the tiniest twitch at the corner of his eye.
"…W-What?" she asked cautiously, suddenly aware she might have stepped on a landmine.
"Can I swear?" Satoru's voice was dangerously low.
"N-No!" Akane answered on reflex.
"Then forget it." He turned away.
"Wait, tell me!" Akane grabbed his sleeve, panic rising. "Did I actually make you mad?"
Satoru sighed and looked back at her. "…You know Rena pretty well, huh?" The abrupt subject change threw her off balance. He kept going, "You want a song? Fine. The title's Except Spring, Love, and Flowers. Easy enough. Want it? I'll write the lyrics and the score, full package, just for you. Hey… you listening?"
Akane had gone completely still. Inside her head, a single phrase ricocheted like a pinball machine:
Eh? For me? For me? Wait… for ME…?
Her face exploded crimson. She yanked the bento box up to hide behind it like a turtle shell.
"W-WANT!!! o(///▽///)o" came the muffled squeak.
"…?" Satoru tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
"Lyrics… and score… both written just for me…!" she clarified from behind the box, voice cracking.
Satoru stared for a second, then exhaled slowly. A soft, genuine smile (rare as a shooting star) appeared. "If I get some free time, I'll do it."
This girl's been good lately: handles herself, jumps into danger without hesitation…
"Mm…" Akane finally lowered the box, face back under control (mostly). She studied him carefully. "…Going home together today?"
"No."
Instant rejection. Akane stomped once, foot thudding against the floor. "Why not!"
"Kendo club… stuff," he muttered, clearly dodging.
Kendo again. A flare of rage surged through Akane… then fizzled out just as fast.
Hmph. So what if it's kendo? So what if it's Miyajima-senpai?
He played guitar for me~ Sang for me~~ Is personally handwriting an entire original song to give me~~
Who else in the world gets that kind of treatment!?
"Go ahead, then," Akane said sweetly, confidence fully restored.
Today I graciously yield you to Miyajima Sakura!! Bring it on! I'm not scared of you one bit!!
…
"M-Miyajima-senpai… h-hello…"
After school, in the hallway.
Akane stood trembling in front of the leisurely strolling third-year, voice small and shaky.
"Mm? Nanao-san?" Sakura answered with the gentlest yamato nadeshiko smile imaginable, elegance practically dripping off her. "I've heard about you."
"YES, SENPAI!" Akane bowed so low and so fast she almost headbutted the air. "It's an honor to be known by you!"
"You and Kobayashi-kun…" Sakura began softly, eyes warm yet carrying the faintest knowing sparkle, "you two are…?"
…
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