[Chapter 15: A War Without Words]
It had only been a few days since Reika Mizusawa transferred into Class 2-B, but already, the atmosphere at school had shifted. Whispers followed her wherever she walked—an elegant girl with glossy silver hair that shimmered like moon, a voice like velvet, and a presence that made even the upperclassmen pause mid-step.
"Did you see her smile at Takumi-kun?"
"She even brought him food yesterday!"
"She's seriously bold… Do you think Yuri-chan's okay with that?"
Yuri Shinomiya heard them, of course. She always did. Her steps through the hallway remained poised, her posture unshaken, her expression composed as always. Her light brown hair swayed softly with each stride, her uniform perfectly neat. To any onlooker, she seemed as calm as ever. But beneath that serene exterior, unease festered. A knot tightened in her chest every time she caught Reika's name paired with Takumi's in the same breath.
That afternoon, after classes had ended and the golden sun had started slipping behind the windows, Yuri found her chance. Cleaning duty was almost over, and she spotted Takumi drying his hands near the classroom sink, his back slightly turned.
She walked over, her steps measured, fingers brushing the edge of her skirt as if gathering courage.
"…Are you free this weekend?" she asked softly, her voice barely above the rustle of the mop in the corner.
Takumi looked at her. "Hmm? I think so. Why?"
Yuri glanced aside, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear—a habit she only did when nervous. "There's a new café near the station. I thought we could… check it out."
Takumi tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. "A date?"
"I didn't say that," Yuri said quickly, cheeks tinged with a delicate blush.
"You didn't have to," he replied, voice smooth as always.
She rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her flustered state. "So you'll come?"
"Yeah," he said simply, then added in a lower, more sincere tone, "as long as it's with you."
Her heart fluttered, just for a second. That was enough. She gave him a small, satisfied smile—reassured, for now.
But of course—Reika Mizusawa wasn't far behind.
The very next day at lunch, as Takumi made his usual escape from the noise of the classroom to the quiet rooftop, a familiar voice stopped him at the stairwell.
"Heading off alone again?" Reika asked, her footsteps light as she fell into pace beside him.
"I prefer quiet," he said, not breaking stride.
"Good. I'm quiet, too," she replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"You're loudly quiet."
She laughed. "Well, I have something for you."
Before he could object, she handed him a small packet. Inside was a hand-folded origami crane, a note with his name written in perfect script, and a sweet—his favorite kind, somehow.
Takumi raised an eyebrow. "You did some digging?"
"Just a little. But I want to know more directly… like what you're doing this weekend."
"Going out," he said flatly.
"With who?"
"…Yuri."
Reika's smile faltered for half a second. "Ah. I see."
But her tone was too casual. Too calm.
Later that day, when Yuri met up with Takumi after school near the gates to walk home, she found Reika already talking to him.
And not just talking—laughing, flipping her hair, holding a book that clearly belonged to Takumi.
Yuri walked over, her steps quiet but firm.
"Takumi," she said, just loud enough to make her presence clear.
He turned, visibly relieved. "Yuri."
Reika smiled sweetly. "We were just talking about literature. Did you know Takumi-kun likes Dostoevsky?"
Yuri raised an eyebrow. "Of course. I gave him the book."
Reika's smile tightened.
"Anyway," Yuri continued, "we should go. We have plans."
"Ah, your little weekend outing?" Reika said, tone still sugary. "Hope the café isn't too crowded… it's gotten really popular."
Yuri turned her gaze toward her, eyes steady and clear. "We'll manage. Unlike some, I make reservations in advance."
Takumi coughed, trying to hide his amused smirk.
As the two walked away, Reika stood there, lips still curved—but her eyes sharp with new intent.
The war had officially begun.