Chapter 2: The Day of Fate, on the Rooftop

──September 4──

My shoe locker was a mess, as expected. Convenience store bento boxes, half-empty PET bottles, and scrawled insults in red ink were crammed inside. My indoor shoes, predictably, had been tossed into the garbage. I fished them out and trudged to class, ignoring the strange looks that followed. Maybe I’m getting used to it. Or maybe my heart’s just too worn out to care. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I just have to endure. If I can hold on, that’s enough.

“That’s Aono, the one who hit Amada-san, right?”

“Ugh, gross.”

“Poor Amada-san. She had bruises on her arm, didn’t she? Guys who hit girls are the absolute worst.”

“She’s just too kind. That’s why stalkers get the wrong idea.”

“I thought we were friends, but I can’t talk to him anymore.”

“By the way, Kondou-senpai is so cool, right? He totally stood up to that stalker DV jerk and chased him off. He’s amazing.”

Every time my face comes into view, even strangers start whispering. A dull ache pierces my chest, sharp and relentless.

Kondou-senpai and his soccer club cronies are clearly fanning the flames of these rumors. I’ve pleaded my innocence on X countless times, but it’s like shouting into a void.

“Criminals always say that.”

“We’re done. Don’t talk to me at school either.”

“Scum!”

Those were the replies I got on X yesterday.

I step into the classroom, no longer able to muster a greeting. Most of my classmates have blocked me on SNS. I thought I’d braced myself for this, but the sight that greets me is far worse than I could’ve imagined. My desk is a canvas of marker graffiti: Idiot. Die. Criminal. Don’t come to school. Snickers echo from a distance, cruel and mocking. But what cuts deeper, what truly breaks me, is the blackboard.

A blown-up flyer for Kitchen Aono, my family’s pride and joy, is taped there for all to see. “This is the house of the DV abuser!” it screams. “Let’s tell strangers on SNS! Don’t forget to post reviews!!” Above it, a threatening note in jagged handwriting: If you don’t want this spread online, quit school or die.

Something shatters inside me. If this continues, it won’t just be me—my family will pay the price. Dad’s shop, the one he poured his heart into… it’ll be destroyed because of me.

Why, why, why!?!

Unable to bear it, I stumble into the hallway, desperate for escape. But even there, a devil waits.

Kondou.

He’s grinning, relishing my pain. He’s probably here to gloat, to see the wreckage of his plan—using his soccer club underlings to spread lies, isolating me until I’m nothing.

“How’s it feel, criminal-kun? Having fun?”

The smug playboy’s voice drips with mockery. A faint whiff of tobacco clings to him, barely masked by the loud snap of his gum.

It grates on my nerves.

“Why… why spread those lies?”

“Because it’s fun.” His grin widens, unapologetic. “You lose your girl to me and everything else along with it. It’s the best show ever. A delusional guy like you shouldn’t have reached for Miyuki in the first place. Hurry up and drop out or something. I’m a psychopath who loves ruining other people’s lives.”

My knees buckle. A voiceless scream tears through me as my body collapses, the cold hallway floor stealing what little warmth I have left. Darkness swallows my consciousness.

※

Burned out and broken on the hallway floor, I skipped the school assembly. Apparently, it was to honor Satoshi and his club for their stellar tournament performance. No one likely noticed my absence.

Claiming illness, I drag myself to the infirmary. The nurse grants me permission to rest, and I collapse onto a bed, the white sheets stark against my trembling frame. Sleep is impossible. Humiliation, fear, despair—they churn within me, threatening to tear apart what’s left of my heart as time crawls by.

“Just in case, I’ll let your homeroom teacher know,” the nurse says.

“Please do,” I mumble, knowing full well Takayanagi-sensei is too busy with the assembly or the commended students to check on me.

Why won’t anyone help me?

It’s probably because of Miyuki. Her flawless behavior, her stellar grades, her former role as class vice-representative—her word carries weight. The teachers believe her over me. That’s why I can’t confide in anyone. Not even Mom or Nii-san. They’re working themselves to the bone, covering for Dad’s absence, just to keep me in school. But if this continues, the shop will suffer too.

Maybe I’m not even worth keeping alive.

Betrayed by Miyuki, my best friend and girlfriend, I’m utterly checkmated. How am I supposed to survive this hell for another year and a half?

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s an unfamiliar account, a jumble of random characters—a clear throwaway.

“Hurry up and drop out, criminal.”

“Skipping the assembly to play victim? Amada-san is the one suffering most, you coward.”

“If it’s so tough, just die already. It’ll be easier.”

The words are devoid of kindness, brimming with pure malice.

I have nothing left.

Another buzz. This time, it’s from Tachibana-buchou, my literature club president. She’s always been a gentle senpai, her smile warm and kind. For a fleeting moment, hope flickers—maybe, just maybe, she believes me. But yesterday’s reality in the clubroom snuffs it out, leaving only despair.

“I’m sorry,” her message reads. “I should’ve told you in person, but because of what you did to Amada-san, the other club members are scared… I’m really sorry, but please don’t come to the club anymore.”

The moment I mark it as read, her texts stop. I try to reply, to scream I didn’t do it, but my fingers freeze. You have been blocked by this account. The message taunts me, merciless and final.

Tears fall silently. Huddled under the white blanket, hiding from the teacher’s gaze, I tremble in voiceless despair. Even the club senpai who were once kind have turned their backs. What do I do?

To a question with no answer, all I can voice is despair.

※

I can’t linger in the infirmary too long—it’ll only draw suspicion. Word might reach my parents. So, claiming I’m feeling a bit better, I leave the infirmary and head back toward class.

Loitering in the hallway would get me caught by a teacher. Even now, my mind clings to strangely practical thoughts. I make for the stairs. Classes have already started, leaving the halls eerily empty. A faint sense of relief washes over me as I climb, my footsteps echoing softly.

I pause at the landing leading to the rooftop. No one will find me here.

Sinking to the floor, I decide to wait out the classes. I’ll just get used to it—the malice, the whispers. If I endure until my heart numbs, that’s enough.

Almost on instinct, my hand reaches for the rooftop’s doorknob. It’s usually locked for safety, but to my surprise, it turns easily.

A chance, I think. If I jump, it could all end. The blackboard’s threat flashes in my mind—quit school or die. Then I wouldn’t be a burden to the shop anymore.

I push the door open, greeted by a stagnant sky, the faint scent of summer still clinging to the air. But I’m not alone in this supposedly empty place.

A girl’s beautiful hair sways in the breeze. She turns, startled by the creak of the door.

“Who are you?”

Her refined features are laced with wariness. A guy appearing on a locked rooftop during homeroom, right after the assembly, would make anyone cautious. Her silky hair dances lightly, her skin cool and untouched by sweat despite the summer heat. A mysterious air clings to her, and the red ribbon at her collar marks her as a first-year, my kouhai. Yet her beauty feels timeless, far from childish.

We’ve never spoken, but I know her. Everyone does.

Ichijou Ai.

A prodigy who aced last year’s entrance exams, her model-like beauty and kind demeanor made her the school’s idol within a month. She’s my polar opposite—someone I shouldn’t even cross paths with in a place like this.

“I’m Aono, second-year,” I mumble. “I was skipping and wandering around, ended up here.”

A flimsy excuse. Why am I even explaining myself when, moments ago, I was ready to end it all?

“Aono-senpai?”

Her voice, soft and cute, sends a jolt through me. She’s a prodigy with ethereal beauty, but her voice carries an unexpected charm. Guys in my class rave about her looks, some even calling themselves her fans, but I was too wrapped up in Miyuki to notice.

Her expression darkens briefly. She’s heard the rumors. Of course she has.

I force a bitter smile. “Why now, of all times?”

Her murmur is faint, almost to herself, but it lacks the hostility I’m used to from my classmates.

A flicker of relief eases the weight in my chest.

“Sorry,” I say. “You’ve heard the rumors, right? Let me have this spot. I just want to hide here until lunch, maybe eat my bento alone.”

Mom packed onigiri this morning. I grabbed my bag when I fled the classroom, so I can hold out here, alone, and rethink whether I want to die.

I don’t know if she senses my thoughts, but her face twists in disgust.

“No way. This is my spot. I’m not giving it up. You’re the one who should disappear, Senpai.”

Her sharp tone catches me off guard. She’s got more edge than I expected, and my respect for her ticks up a notch.

“You sure? You know the rumors about me, don’t you?”

The words stab at my own heart. I haven’t even processed the label—DV abuser. She probably doesn’t want to be alone with someone like me. I wielded the rumors like a threat, and I hate myself for it.

“I know.”

“Then hurry and—”

“No way.”

The school’s idol is stubborn as hell.

“Huh?”

My voice sharpens unintentionally. I didn’t expect such defiance.

“I know the rumors,” she says, her tone steady. “But they’re just that—rumors. Sounds like a messy love triangle sparked some weird gossip, but I haven’t seen any proof. Honestly, love is like a disease. Why should I trust one-sided claims or vague whispers? That’s too dangerous. The other students are overreacting. Lynching someone without evidence is the real low.”

Her words hit like a shockwave, piercing the fog of my despair. The defense I longed to hear from my classmates or clubmates comes from a kouhai I just met. Surprise and a faint spark of joy bloom in my wounded heart.

“So, you believe me?”

“It’s not about believing or not. Those rumors are clearly being spread by your girlfriend, right? Hurting you based on biased, one-sided info is too risky. Rumors tied to romance are the least trustworthy, aren’t they?”

Her rational, almost pedantic argument might sound cheeky from a kouhai, but it’s exactly what I needed to hear.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

She glares, puzzled, a hint of annoyance in her eyes.

“If you don’t get it, that’s fine.”

I swallow back tears, gazing at the clear-eyed kouhai.

A raindrop falls, then another, until a sudden downpour drenches us.

“Nasty rain,” she says. “We’ll catch a cold out here. Let’s head inside.”

“Leave me alone.”

Her rejection stuns me. I thought she’d agree to take shelter.

“What? But—”

“Don’t you get it? The reason I’m out here alone!”

Her voice, no longer calm, trembles with raw anger, leaving me speechless.

“Reason?”

“You don’t need to worry about me catching a cold. Because I won’t have a tomorrow!”

Her emotions erupt like a child’s tantrum. She storms toward the edge of the rooftop.

“Calm down!”

“Leave me alone. I want to die!”

She moves slowly toward the fence. Panic surges, and I grab her arm, shouting, “Stop it!”

Just moments ago, I was ready to jump, and now I’m stopping my kouhai from doing the same. The absurdity of it dizzies me.

“It’s none of your business. Let me do what I want!”

She struggles with surprising strength, but I hold on desperately.

“Enough already!”

Soaked to the bone, we stumble in the rain. She claws at my arm, and in the chaos, we trip. I pull her close, shielding her as my back slams against the fence. Pain shoots through me, but she’s safe. She’s stopped.

“Ouch!”

Her muffled cry is faint, but she seems unharmed.

“Why, why are you trying to protect me? If that fence was rusty, you could’ve—”

My mind a mess, I blurt out, “Shut up! You don’t need a reason to save someone!”

“Huh?”

Her voice, soft with wonder, meets my shout.

“If you’re gonna die, at least spend today with me! Let’s skip school together!”

“What!? Skip school? Do you even understand your situation?”

My lame suggestion—let’s skip—is all I can muster in this desperate moment. I’m disappointed in myself. There had to be a better idea. Our uniforms cling to us, soaked and pathetic.

“What else could I do? I came here to die, but I never imagined I’d be stopping my kouhai from doing the same.”

My voice sounds weak, almost pitiful.

“…Yeah, you’re right.”

The school’s idol slumps to the ground, deflated. For now, the worst seems averted. She mutters, “This is ridiculous,” and starts laughing, a soft, broken sound. I can’t help but laugh with her.

“Come on, let’s head inside.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Even in our sorry state, the laughter won’t stop.

“Here, use this for now.”

I pull a towel from my bag and offer it to her.

“But…”

Her eyes say, You should use it first. But I know if I do, it’ll be too wet for her.

“It’s fine. Gotta be nice to girls, right?”

Miyuki’s betrayal left me wary of women, but with this kouhai, who feels like a comrade, I can be honest.

“Thank you. But don’t stare too much, okay?”

I don’t need to ask why. Her thin summer uniform, soaked through, reveals the light pink camisole beneath. I know I shouldn’t look, but my instincts betray me, stealing glances.

“You’re doing it right now… That’s harassment.”

“Sorry!”

She’s annoyed but takes the towel, wiping herself down. Her graceful movements are almost otherworldly, like an angel grounded by the rain.

“So, what now? You invited me to skip, so you’ve got some kind of plan, right?”

I’ve got nothing. With a wry smile, I confess, “As if. I was desperate. Guess I’m not cool enough to be a delinquent.”

She laughs at my self-deprecation, her expression softening. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile without that faint shadow. Her usual charm always carried a hint of distance, but this is real. I recall rumors of classmates confessing to her, their hopes dashed by her polite rejections.

※

“Why would you think I’d go out with a stranger?”

“Do you know how it feels to be confessed to by someone you just met? No, you don’t. Let me tell you—it’s nothing but terrifying.”

“In the end, you’re only interested in my looks or status, aren’t you? I read those letters, and that’s all they ever talk about. Reading stuff like that hurts.”

That’s what the witness had said, I recall. Yeah, crushed to pieces.

So, honestly, I was stunned that Ichijou accepted my proposal so easily. I was bracing for a scolding, at the very least.

“This probably doesn’t make up for it, but here’s something in return.”

She offers a delicate handkerchief, her expression apologetic as she eyes the soaked towel. I accept it gratefully.

Once the adrenaline fades, hunger hits. I can’t exactly eat alone, right? I split my onigiri in half and hand her one. It’s tuna mayo. These past few days, food has been tasteless, but somehow, this one bite is delicious.

“This is amazing,” she says, eyes wide. “It’s tuna, right? Mixed with mayonnaise?”

Her tone is so refined, like a sheltered princess.

“Yeah. Never had it? It’s a classic convenience store onigiri—tuna mayo.”

“Really? So everyone’s been eating something this good?”

She’s definitely a proper lady from a good family, isn’t she?

“There’s tons of other delicious stuff out there. Dying without trying them would be a waste.”

“Nice one. Now you’ve got me curious.”

Her eyes sparkle with a newfound brightness. This girl’s got a curious streak, doesn’t she?

But I only brought one onigiri. My appetite’s been nonexistent, so I packed the bare minimum. Half an onigiri probably isn’t enough for her, no matter how small she is. If we’re skipping, there’s only one place to go, right?

“Hey, Ichijou-san. Wanna come to my place?”

“Huh!?”

※

We swap for our outdoor shoes and sneak toward the front gate, using the roof and bike shed to stay out of sight from the classrooms. Luck’s on our side—no one seems to notice.

It’s about a hundred meters from the bike shed to the gate. We’ve made it this far undetected, so we’re in the clear. Even if someone spots us from the staff room, they’re too far to catch up.

The heavy rain has stopped, and the sun now shines brightly. Perfect timing.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“But, Senpai… the front gate’s locked, right? How are we gonna open it?”

My kouhai fidgets, her voice laced with worry.

“We climb over it.”

“I’m wearing a skirt!!”

My teasing earns a sharp, flustered reaction.

“Kidding, kidding. I know better than that. See that iron door by the gate? The side entrance. You can unlock it from the inside, but it locks automatically when it closes. Can’t get in from outside, but getting out is easy.”

It’s a time-honored trick, mostly for sneaking out to buy snacks. If you’ve got a friend inside, they can open the side door. Teachers know about it and scold you if you’re blatant, but it’s an unspoken allowance.

“How do you even know this stuff…”

She sighs, exasperated. This honor student’s clearly out of her depth with school rumors and hacks.

“It’s fine once in a while, right, Miss Perfect? Alright, let’s do this!!”

Maybe it’s a habit from Miyuki, but I grab her hand without thinking. I catch my mistake with an “ah,” but she grips back, surprising me. My heart races.

“Why’re you blushing? Come on, let’s go!”

Her cheeks are tinged with embarrassment too.

“You’re okay holding hands with a guy you just met?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hesitant… but isn’t it normal for guys and girls to hold hands in moments like this? Like in plays, movies, or foreign dramas?”

This girl’s got a romantic streak, doesn’t she? Mixing fiction and reality like that?

“Alright, here we go.”

“By the way, this is my first time properly holding hands with a guy, so you better treat it with care.”

Her face flushes deeper, and my own embarrassment spikes. No overthinking.

“Start!!”

We bolt at my signal.

“Hey, what’re you kids doing!!”

A PE teacher’s voice, probably from the staff room. We don’t look back, charging forward.

It feels like we’re breaking free from the past, racing toward something new.

The girl beside me beams, her smile radiant with the thrill of our escape.

──Ichijou Ai’s Perspective──

Why am I sneaking out of school with someone I just met? I’ve never even considered skipping before. The first time I’ve held a guy’s hand, it’s strong, enveloping mine with gentle warmth.

Why did this senpai risk himself to protect a stranger like me? When I slipped, I braced for death. At the very least, I should’ve crashed into the fence. That rooftop, where no one goes, is likely rusted and frail. I could’ve fallen straight to the ground.

He put his life on the line for me, someone he knew nothing about.

I’ll protect you.

I’ve heard those words in countless confessions, but they always struck my trauma, leaving me cold. I never wanted to hear them.

But Aono Eiji-senpai was different. He didn’t say it aloud, but his actions—shielding me with his body—spoke louder than words. He’s unlike anyone I’ve met. Even in his own pain, he acts for my sake. He’s almost too kind for his own good.

With him, I feel like I might escape this hell. He has this strange aura that makes me believe it.

We pick up speed, running side by side. Doing something wrong feels… fun, somehow.

For the first time in years, I laughed from the heart. And it’s all because of this senpai I met today.

──Kondou’s Perspective──

I’m Kondou Seiji, the center of this world.

My dad’s a city councilor. Academically, I aced my way into one of the prefecture’s top three high schools. In the soccer club, I’m the ace. I took our school’s mediocre team to the top ranks in the prefectural tournament, and last year, we hit nationals—thanks to me.

On the sly, I’ve been scouted by a prestigious university’s soccer team. A sports recommendation from school, and a golden future awaits.

I could go pro. With my skills and a bit of effort, I’d dominate Japan. Overseas leagues would come knocking—Belgium, Scotland, then the big five. Nine-figure salaries, surrounded by beauties. The first Japanese Ballon d’Or winner? Not a dream.

“Man, life’s too easy.”

I’ve been different since I was a kid. Study a bit, and I’d top the class. My height shot up, nearly 190 cm. Soccer? My natural flair made me the star of every team.

I got offers from pro club youth academies but passed. That’d cut into my fun. Still got picked for the youth national team, so no complaints. I’ve got technique. Basic training or weights would just cage me, make me average. I’d rather rule a weak school like this, doing whatever I want. Small-time coaches wouldn’t get it.

With this much talent, girls can’t resist me. A magnet since elementary school. Got my first girlfriend in third grade. Haven’t been single since. In eighth grade, I crossed that line with my girlfriend at the time, and my player days kicked into high gear.

I’ll never forget that eighth-grade story.

There was this otaku in my class, dating the class idol. Middle school puppy love, holding hands at most, some old-fashioned nonsense. Childhood friends like Miyuki and her guy, all pure, convinced they’d marry someday.

I flattered her, played nice, and she fell hard. I made her badmouth her “destined” boyfriend, and she got off on the guilt, playing the tragic heroine.

“That otaku’s so creepy.”

“Having him as my boyfriend was the biggest shame of my life.”

Alone with me, she’d gush about how much she adored me. What a dumb girl.

When I played that recording for the otaku, he broke down in tears.

Seeing his face got me so hyped.

“Why, why?! You promised we’d get married!!”

He collapsed, screaming like he was dying. She didn’t even glance at him, clinging to my arm like he didn’t exist.

“That’s how it is, so break up already. I’m gonna be happy with him.”

Her makeup was gaudy compared to before we dated. I laughed. That moment, my conquest was complete. That’s why I got hooked on stealing other guys’ girls. The look of despair on their faces is just too fun.

In high school, I dumped her. Love’s only fun before you seal the deal.

Once you’re dating, they get possessive and annoying. Can’t be helped.

“Why?! I gave up everything for you!”

Clinging to me, half-crazed, she’d beg. I’d just say:

“I’m not into easy girls. I’m bored, so we’re done.”

Fiddling with my phone, acting cold, I’d say it mechanically, and they’d crumble. Usually, once they fall for me, girls stop studying, and their grades tank.

They rarely recover.

Plus, they’ve burned all their old friendships. Especially with childhood friend couples. From kindergarten through middle school, they ditch everyone for me. Do they really think they can date me without getting that?

Know your place.

In the end, the former class idol turned everyone against her, flunked out, went truant, and spiraled to a bad end. Watching that while laughing is the best part.

Next is Miyuki’s turn. She’s a fun one. She should’ve stuck with her boyfriend instead of me.

That day, I had a fun idea. A guy and a girl—ruining both their lives would be a blast.

So, I left DV marks on Miyuki’s arm. Her wimpy book club boyfriend could only leave red marks at best, but when I gripped her arm hard, it bruised perfectly. I snapped a pic and had my club underlings spread it on SNS and the school’s secret site.

And this is the result.

That guy, Eiji.

And how far Miyuki will fall.

I can’t wait to see!!

──Miyuki’s Perspective──

Eiji hasn’t returned to class since before morning homeroom.

The culprits who scribbled on his desk scrambled to erase it before the teachers noticed, but the permanent marker left faint stains. Eiji’s desk, marred and uncleanable, mirrors my own heart. He might quit school. Because of me. The guilt of ruining the most important person in my life, all because I prioritized my own feelings, is a cross I’ll bear forever.

What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?

I never imagined Kondou-senpai would spread those rumors. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. If I apologize, surely Eiji will forgive me.

The last class of the morning is nearly over. Glancing at the schoolyard, I spot Eiji. The sight of him fills me with uncontrollable joy, but it’s snuffed out instantly.

Behind him is a girl I don’t know. They’re holding hands, running toward the gate, like the protagonists of a movie.

Why. Why. Why.

Jealousy burns through me, unstoppable. His hand, meant to be mine alone, now belongs to another girl.

What? Why?

I broke up with him myself, but that fact vanishes as the flames of jealousy roar.

Tears stream down my face, and I bury my head in my desk to hide them.

“Who’s that homewrecker?”