For the first time, Utaha showed signs of visible impatience, a cold shadow crossing her usually composed expression.
"Tomoya Aki, I admit it was my mistake to have any expectations of you."
Her voice cut through the quiet of the clubroom like a sharp blade.
"To be blunt, this isn't a game plan at all. It's just self-indulgent—an essay about your ideal, heart-throbbing girl."
Mentioning this, she suddenly recalled the awkward spectacle from earlier that morning and let out a dry, mocking chuckle.
"So the plain girl you were pestering outside Class 3 this morning is the 'heroine' of your so-called grand design?"
She laughed in absolute disbelief, shaking her head.
"Basically, you want all of us to drop everything and help you construct your personal otaku fantasy world. If you like her so much, why don't you just confess your feelings to her? What's with all this melodramatic nonsense?"
She adjusted her skirt, her tone dripping with disdain.
"Oh, and by the way, I hear that very same girl openly rejected your offer to be your heroine right to your face."
"I..."
Tomoya's face flushed a deep, humiliating crimson, alternating between shades of red and stark white as he stammered.
He hadn't expected Utaha to have witnessed his public humiliation that morning.
Feeling utterly bored by his incompetence, Utaha turned on her heel and headed for the classroom door, her loafers clicking sharply against the floorboards.
She left him with a final, unyielding verdict:
"Sorry, Aki-kun, but I have zero interest in your adolescent chuunibyou fantasy, and I certainly have no intention of becoming your slave laborer."
"Please don't ever bother me with this nonsense again."
"Wait! Kasumigaoka-senpai, please!"
Tomoya desperately tried to call after her, but Utaha didn't even spare him a glance over her shoulder as she slid the door shut behind her.
Left behind in the heavy silence, Eriri Spencer Sawamura wore a deeply conflicted, heartbroken expression.
"Sorry, Tomoya..." she murmured, her voice trembling. "I can't possibly help you make a visual novel when there isn't even a proper design document."
She set the proposal folder down on the desk with a soft thud and, consumed by profound disappointment, slowly walked toward the exit.
As she reached the threshold, she paused for a moment, biting her lower lip until it turned white.
I trusted you.
"I explicitly told you I didn't want anyone in school knowing I'm 'Eri Kashiwagi'..."
Her voice was barely a whisper, laden with a painful vulnerability.
"And you... you just carelessly blurted it out in front of Utaha-senpai..."
Eriri felt deeply betrayed. Ironically, she wasn't even primarily upset that Tomoya's entire game plan revolved around his sudden crush on another girl.
What truly broke her heart was realizing that Tomoya hadn't changed at all—he was still as recklessly insensitive as he had always been.
It had perhaps been her own foolish mistake to introduce him to the deep recesses of the otaku subculture when they were kids playing with figures in her attic, but that didn't mean she wanted her double life dragged out into the harsh light of school society.
Being labeled an otaku in their social circle carried a heavy stigma, and an accidental slip-up could easily lead to social ostracization.
Worse still, she was a doujin artist—and not just any artist, but one who drew eroge-style adult content.
Eriri shuddered, unable to fathom the social ruin that would follow if her pen name and secret profession were exposed to the whole school.
She would likely be forced to transfer.
She desperately wanted to turn around and demand an explanation.
Why on earth did Tomoya trust Utaha Kasumigaoka to keep such a dangerous secret?
Why did he have to broadcast her private identity out loud?
Swallowing her tears, Eriri stepped out into the hallway, leaving Tomoya standing completely alone in the echoing classroom.
"How... how could this possibly happen?"
His hands gripped the edge of the desk.
This wasn't how the script of his life was supposed to go!
I'm a loyal fan of Kasumi-sensei's light novels. Why wouldn't she support my creative vision?
And Eriri?
She's my childhood friend, the quintessential tsundere heroine—isn't she supposed to feel guilty for abandoning me?
Why did Eriri betray me just like that?
Tomoya clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, desperately searching his memories for where everything went wrong.
If only I had been more discreet...
If 'Megumi Kato' had just agreed to my invitation from the start...
Utaha-senpai wouldn't have stumbled upon us, and both she and Eriri would have naturally fallen in line to join my circle.
So...
A dark, twisted thought began to take root in his mind, festering in the quiet room.
"This... this is all Haruto's fault!"
Tomoya's simmering frustration crystallized into pure, burning resentment toward Haruto.
He shifted the blame entirely onto him, convincing himself that Haruto was the ultimate architect of his ruin.
Fate is a strange and unpredictable thing.
That afternoon, still burning with unwarranted resentment toward Haruto, Tomoya pedaled away from the school gates on his bicycle, his mind clouded by frustration.
And there they were—Haruto, walking side-by-side with Megumi Kato.
They were conversing easily, a peaceful atmosphere surrounding them.
"..."
Tomoya gritted his teeth, his grip tightening painfully on the handlebars.
That beret that fell the other day... I should have been the one to catch it.
If Haruto hadn't selfishly intervened, it would be me walking beside her right now.
Blinded by a mix of humiliation and petty jealousy, Tomoya made a reckless, split-second decision.
He sped up his pedaling, intending to swerve dangerously close between them—a foolish attempt to startle Haruto and make him look clumsy in front of Megumi.
Walking slightly ahead, however, Haruto's sharp peripheral vision caught the sudden motion closing in from behind.
He immediately recognized the danger and stepped smoothly into action.
He's actually trying to plow through here? Good grief, what an idiot, Haruto thought, his expression turning serious.
To protect Megumi from being clipped by a speeding, out-of-control bicycle.
Haruto instinctively manipulated the moisture in the air, freezing a patch of pavement just ahead of Tomoya's path to force a safe stop before anyone could get hurt.
Predictably, the front tire lost all traction the instant it hit the slick ice.
"Wait—!"
Losing balance entirely, Tomoya's eyes widened in sudden, stark terror.
He tried to brake, but momentum was working against him.
Reacting with lightning speed, Haruto reached out, gently grabbing Megumi's wrist and pulling her completely out of harm's way, shielding her body with his own.
The two of them stood safely on the sidewalk as Tomoya's bike wildly fishtailed, skidding off course and careening directly out into the active street.
At that exact moment, a delivery van rounded the corner, unable to brake in time.
Screech—!
The sharp, agonizing wail of locked tires tore through the afternoon air, but the physics of the situation were unforgiving.
"No—!"
Tomoya shrieked in absolute panic, desperately trying to fling himself off the saddle, but it was far too late.
The heavy bumper and front wheels of the vehicle struck the bike, sweeping him off and rolling over his lower extremities.
"Agh—AAAHHH!"
Tomoya's voice cracked in a horrific scream of agony as he collapsed onto the asphalt, writhing in pain and clutching himself, shock washing over his pale face.
"Someone—please, call an ambulance! Call the police!" he sobbed, tears pricking his eyes.
Pedestrians froze in horror, immediately pulling out their smartphones to dial for emergency services.
******
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