Chapter 10: The First Weekend Date

──Station Square──

Sunday morning found me at the station, nerves tingling with anticipation for my meetup with Ichijou-san. A movie date with the school idol? The thought alone had kept me tossing and turning all night, too restless to sleep.

In the end, I’d given up on rest and headed out early, grabbing breakfast at the family restaurant near the station. I lingered over the drink bar, trying to calm my jitters, and arrived at our meeting spot with time to spare. Twenty minutes until our scheduled rendezvous, to be exact.

Unable to sit still any longer, I wandered the station square, pacing to burn off nervous energy.

“Senpai!” a bright voice called from behind. “You’re early! There’s still twenty minutes to go.”

I turned to see Ichijou-san, a vision utterly unlike her usual school-uniformed self. She wore a soft pink camisole-style dress that could’ve veered too sweet but instead complemented her grace, lending an almost elegant air. A small white bag slung over her shoulder accentuated her gentle aura, or so I couldn’t help but think.

“Yeah,” I admitted, caught off guard by her presence. “I was so excited I got here early.”

The words slipped out, raw and honest, before I could stop them.

“W-What are you saying all of a sudden?” she stammered, a faint flush coloring her cheeks. “Geez.”

“You said you don’t mind this kind of thing, though.”

“…I do like it,” she murmured, her wry smile tinged with shyness.

“Your dress suits you perfectly,” I added, knowing enough to compliment her outfit at a moment like this.

“Th-Thank you.” Her smile turned complex, perhaps mindful of my recent heartbreak. “As expected, Senpai’s used to handling girls, huh?”

“Not at all,” I countered, shaking my head. “I was just struck by you. Besides, you’re plenty popular yourself, Ichijou-san. You must be used to dates with guys, right?”

She hesitated, then admitted, “Actually, this is my first weekend date. My first real date was that café after school the other day… This outfit? Maeda-san, who helps at home, gave me advice on putting it together…”

“Huh?” My voice came out stranger than intended. I’d guessed she hadn’t dated much, but to be this reserved?

“Please don’t dig into it,” she said, her tone light but embarrassed. “It’s a bit much for a high school girl to admit. I’m not uninterested, you know. Since you seem experienced, Senpai, I’m counting on you to escort me properly, okay?”

In that moment, Ichijou-san felt more like a girl than ever—vulnerable, human, and impossibly endearing.

“I’ll do my best,” I promised, aware of the weight of her trust. It felt like every eye in the square was drawn to her, and I couldn’t blame them.

A truly special time had begun.

“Shall we go buy the movie tickets?” she asked, her enthusiasm infectious as she geared up for the date.

“I already reserved our seats online yesterday,” I said, waving off her suggestion. “It’s Sunday, so I figured it might be crowded.”

Her eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before her cheeks flushed a vivid red, as if her emotions had burst free.

“I did say to escort me, but… I didn’t expect you to be this prepared,” she said, flustered. “I’ll pay for my ticket!”

She fumbled with her wallet like a startled small animal, but I just chuckled. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” I said, starting to walk. Truth be told, Ichijou-san had helped me through so much that covering her ticket felt like the least I could do. Today, I was determined to ensure she had the time of her life.

A joyful Sunday had begun.

※

“Since you paid for the tickets, I’m covering the drinks and popcorn—no, let me pay!” Ichijou-san insisted, her tone firm. I relented, happy to let her have her way.

For someone so slim, she ate with surprising gusto. I’d seen her polish off a kaki fry set meal and a lunch plate before, though she hadn’t gone for the free rice refill at Kitchen Aono—a perk that drew athletic guys and young male customers in droves.

Popcorn was non-negotiable for a movie, of course. I ordered a cola, while Ichijou-san chose an Earl Grey iced tea. If I hadn’t eaten breakfast, I might’ve been tempted by a hot dog or fries.

“Life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you’re gonna get,” she said, casually quoting the movie’s iconic line. “It’s so true, isn’t it? Before summer break ended, I never could’ve imagined watching a movie with you like this, Senpai.”

I nodded, struck by her words. “Yeah. I’m grateful for this chance meeting. If I hadn’t met you, Ichijou-san, I’d probably still be wallowing in misery.”

“There you go again, making girls happy without even trying,” she teased, though her eyes softened. “But you’re blessed with good people around you, Senpai. Your mom, Nii-san, the teachers, Imai-senpai… No matter how tough things get, you’ve got plenty of people in your corner.”

“You were the first to reach out, though,” I said quietly. “That makes you special.”

If we hadn’t crossed paths on that rooftop, if our timing had been off by even a few minutes, tragedy might’ve claimed us both.

The theater darkened, and the movie’s title flashed across the screen—a masterpiece of American human drama. It followed a bullied protagonist who found happiness through the kindness of others, in turn bringing joy to those around them. Despite its comedic tone, it wove a poignant tale against the backdrop of modern American history.

I saw myself in the protagonist, navigating hardship but buoyed by the people who cared. Their presence was a lifeline, and I knew I had to repay that kindness. This ordeal had cost me dearly, but it also revealed the wealth of precious connections I still had—thanks to Ichijou-san.

Reaching for the popcorn, my hand brushed hers. She let out a soft “Ah” and jerked back, her reaction so uncharacteristically shy that it was utterly charming.

As the movie pulled me in, I found myself wishing this moment could stretch on forever.

※

“That was so good, wasn’t it?” Ichijou-san’s voice bubbled with excitement, her eyes sparkling as she spoke.

“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding. “That Vietnam War scene hits hard every time.”

The movie was a celebrated masterpiece, one that had swept countless awards. It was part of Mom’s prized Blu-ray collection, and I’d borrowed it to watch multiple times. While the crisp visuals on Blu-ray were stunning, experiencing it in a theater—immersed in the grandeur of the big screen—was on another level entirely.

“The ending’s a bit bittersweet, but it feels so human. I love that,” Ichijou-san said, her smile radiating satisfaction. “It’s the kind of movie that leaves you warm inside. And watching it with you, Senpai? That made it the best. Movies are so much fun with you!”

Her words caught me off guard, and I recalled how she’d bonded with Mom over movies. Mom, a die-hard fan of foreign dramas and films, had even gotten a streaming subscription for the break room. She’d once told me how, back when streaming wasn’t around, she’d max out her weekly video and DVD rentals, squeezing in viewings during her scarce free time.

“Since it’s a movie from before we were born, it’s not like we’d get to see it in theaters without a chance like this,” I remarked, still marveling at the opportunity.

Ichijou-san nodded. “During the pandemic, when new releases stalled, that theater ran revival screenings to stay afloat. Apparently, customers loved it, so they kept a slot for classic re-releases.”

“That’s awesome,” I said, enthusiasm creeping into my voice. “If they’re showing another good one, let’s come back.”

The words slipped out casually, but their weight hit me like a ton of bricks. Had I just suggested another date with the school’s most beautiful girl? My stomach twisted with sudden nerves.

But Ichijou-san just laughed, her expression bright and unbothered. “You’ll take me on another date? Hehe, I’m looking forward to it. There are tons of classic movies I want to watch with you. Tell me about your favorites too, Senpai!”

Her instant reply sent my heart racing. There’d be a next time. That promise, that hope, made my pulse quicken.

──Ichijou Ai’s Perspective──

Senpai loved the movie. But I never expected him to be this good at escorting me. As expected of someone who’s had a girlfriend. Things with Amada-san must’ve been effortless until they fell apart. They probably went out and had fun together all the time.

Where did they go? Watched movies, I bet. I can just picture it.

Then it hit me—I was jealous of his ex-girlfriend. So this is what jealousy feels like.

Senpai must’ve been shattered by that whole mess. Is he still hung up on her? What does he think of me? Maybe just a little sister.

I want him to see me as a girl… Not knowing how the person you like feels is terrifying, like standing on the edge of a cliff.

Pushing down my unease, I kept walking beside him. As always, he matched my pace perfectly.

※

We settled on lunch at a nearby café. I’d done my research beforehand, knowing Ichijou-san’s love for sweets, and picked a place renowned for its desserts.

“Welcome! Table for two? Please take the couple’s seat over there,” the waiter said, guiding us.

The words threw me off. The couple’s seat? It was the plushest spot in the café, all soft cushions and intimate lighting. Were we really being seen as a couple? I opened my mouth to clarify for her sake, but Ichijou-san’s fingers lightly tugged the hem of my shirt.

“Senpai, I want that seat,” she said softly.

Surprised, I hesitated. “You’re okay with people thinking we’re a couple?”

Just to be sure, I checked. Her cheeks flushed, but her gaze held steady. “Do you not like being seen that way with me?”

Her question left me speechless. The waiter’s knowing smile didn’t help, but I had no counter. Wordlessly, we took the seat.

※

“Sorry for the wait. Here’s the Hawaiian pancake set and the hamburger lunch,” the waiter announced, setting down our orders.

Ichijou-san’s eyes lit up at the sight of her long-awaited pancakes, a fluffy stack drizzled with syrup and topped with vibrant fruit. My hamburger and fries set was straight out of a foodie’s Instagram, hearty and colorful. The first bite exploded with savory meat and crisp vegetables, perfectly balanced.

I caught her staring, her gaze fixed on my plate. Got it.

“Ichijou-san, want a bite?” I offered, picking up on her curiosity.

Her face brightened instantly. “Can I!?”

“Wait, have you never had a hamburger before?” I asked, half-teasing.

She grinned, undeterred. “Yes, and you have some of my pancakes too, Senpai.”

We swapped plates. Mindful of her, I bit from the opposite side of her pancakes. The batter was airy, the fruit tangy, and the maple syrup’s sweetness tied it all together—a dessert that could easily draw crowds to Kitchen Aono if they served it. Satisfied, I glanced at Ichijou-san.

She was grappling with the oversized hamburger, clearly unsure how to tackle it. It dwarfed her face, making her look comically determined.

“It’ll fall apart no matter what, so just go for a big bite,” I advised.

“O-Okay,” she said, steadying herself. Gripping the burger with surprising elegance, she took a bold chomp. Her eyes widened at the burst of flavors, and a satisfied smile spread across her face. Spotting a smudge of ketchup at the corner of her mouth, I handed her a napkin. She wiped it off, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

I thought I was the one savoring her adorable reactions, but she caught me off guard.

“Sorry, we just had an indirect kiss, didn’t we?” she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Before I could process, she pressed on, her tone playful. “Senpai! I’ve never dated a guy, so I’m pretty clueless, but please teach me lots of things. You’re probably used to all this, but it’s totally new to me!”

Her devilish laugh left me defenseless, my heart stumbling over itself.

※

After lunch, we browsed the accessory shops in the department store near the station.

“It’s my first time in a place like this, but it’s pretty fun,” I admitted. The shop was mostly filled with women, but there were plenty of things guys could enjoy—finger massagers, fluffy bead cushions, even quirky bath bombs and snacks.

“Right? I love poking around shops like this when I have time. You find so many unusual things,” Ichijou-san said, her smile bright as she added bath bombs and cute notebooks to her basket.

“There’s stuff here I’ve never seen before. It’s refreshing,” I said, scanning the international goods section. My eyes landed on a cherry-flavored cola, and I grabbed one to try. Little discoveries like this felt like they expanded my world, and I wouldn’t have stumbled across it if I’d been alone.

“Senpai, your reactions are so cute,” Ichijou-san teased, laughing happily. “I’m glad you’re having fun!”

※

The clock struck four in the afternoon—an awkward hour for wholesome high schoolers like us. It was about time to consider heading home, but I knew little about Ichijou-san’s parents since she rarely spoke of them. Uncertainty gnawed at me, leaving me unsure of our next move.

“Senpai, what should we do now?” Ichijou-san asked, her voice tinged with the same hesitation I felt.

“What do you think?” I ventured, grasping for an idea. “Wanna come over for dinner? Mom and Nii-san would be thrilled.”

“Tempting, but I’m always getting treated to meals at your place, so I feel a bit guilty. I’ll pass today.”

“Got it…” I said, though disappointment tugged at me. I’d hoped to stretch our time together a little longer.

“Don’t look so down,” she teased, her eyes glinting mischievously. “How about coming to my place instead? I’m always visiting your house.”

“Guhe!” A strangled noise escaped me at her sudden invitation.

“By the way,” she added playfully, “at this hour, the housekeeper won’t be there. So, no one’s home.”

“Wait, isn’t that a bit risky?” I stammered, my face heating up. “What if something happens?”

“Geez, I was just teasing, and you’re blushing so much!” She laughed, clearly enjoying my reaction. “You’re so funny, Senpai. Oh, and I live alone, so no need to worry about running into my parents.”

Her teasing hadn’t let up, but her words carried a faint shadow, hinting at some unspoken weight in her family situation.

“Well, then, maybe I’ll take you up on that,” I said, turning the tables.

“Huh!?” Her confident facade faltered, her cheeks flushing.

“You’re blushing too, Ichijou-san,” I pointed out, unable to resist a grin.

She puffed out her cheeks, her expression girlishly indignant. “Don’t tease me!”

“Alright, let’s go,” I said, chuckling as she grabbed my arm and led the way to her place.

Under her breath, I thought I heard her mutter, “If it’s Senpai, I wouldn’t mind if a little mistake happened.” My heart skipped, but I pretended not to hear, unsure if I’d imagined it.

※

So this was Ichijou-san’s place—a sleek, upscale apartment that screamed sophistication. She lived alone in a space this grand? She’d mentioned a housekeeper dropping by occasionally, but the thought still felt surreal.

“I’ll get some tea. Wait here for a bit,” she said, guiding me to a room that resembled a study, its walls lined with towering bookshelves.

“That’s a ton of books,” I remarked, awestruck. “Feels like a rich person’s house.”

The shelves were pristine, the books meticulously dusted and organized. Award-winning bestsellers sat neatly alongside obscure titles, transforming the space into a small, private library. She really loved books, didn’t she?

On the desk sat a framed photo of a smiling family of three, likely taken when Ichijou-san was in elementary school. Their joy was palpable, yet something about it felt fragile. If she had family troubles, as her earlier words suggested, this photo might be a painful relic she’d rather keep hidden. Guilt pricked at me for lingering on it.

“Sorry for the wait,” she said, returning with tea in an elegant antique-style cup and a plate of fancy foreign chocolates. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” I took the tea, gesturing at the shelves. “That’s an insane number of books. Have you read them all?”

“Some belonged to my late mother, so not all of them,” she replied, her tone soft but steady. Still, the sheer volume of recent releases suggested she’d devoured plenty.

“This is paradise for book lovers,” I said, genuinely impressed.

Her face lit up. “I’m glad you think so. Come back anytime.”

As she sipped her tea, her gaze fixed on me, intense and searching. I sensed she was steeling herself to say something weighty.

“What’s up?” I prompted gently.

“Senpai, please don’t give up on writing novels.”

Her words hit like a jolt. After the recent chaos, I’d distanced myself from writing—once my greatest passion. The wounds were still raw, and some unspoken trauma kept me from picking up a pen.

“Well, that’s…” I faltered, unsure how to respond.

“I’ve read countless books,” she continued, her voice fervent. “This might sound selfish, but your stories are truly special. They’re warmer, kinder than anything else I’ve read. I can’t let them be ruined by something like this!”

Her earnestness shook me to my core. She’d salvaged my manuscript from the literature clubroom, and now her words reignited a spark I thought I’d lost. With her believing in me like this, how could I not keep going?

“Thank you,” I said, my voice thick with gratitude. “I owe you so much, Ichijou-san.”

In that moment, I felt like I’d reclaimed a piece of myself. She smiled softly, cradling her teacup, her warmth anchoring me.

※

I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. As much as I enjoyed her company, I knew it was time to head home. When I said as much, a flicker of disappointment crossed her face, but she masked it with a gentle smile. We moved to the entrance, and the thought of our date ending left a quiet ache in my chest.

A soft tug on my clothes stopped me. Turning, I found Ichijou-san looking up at me, her expression shy and uncertain.

“Senpai, today was an official date, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” I stammered, caught off guard by her directness. She’d said she wanted an official date, and I’d agreed, but hearing it aloud made my face burn.

“This is a thank-you for escorting me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s embarrassing, so close your eyes.”

Her hands rested lightly on my shoulders as she rose onto her tiptoes.

“Huh?”

A fleeting warmth brushed my left cheek, soft and delicate. My eyes snapped open, stunned.

“It’s a special date, so a little something feels right, don’t you think?” she mumbled, her face flushed as she tried to hide her embarrassment.

Shock rooted me in place, but her shy smile and the memory of her touch lingered, making the day feel impossibly perfect.