[Chapter 1: The Dice Roll Problem (Day 176)]

“Hey, Banjo, isn’t rolling dice kinda, like, a total drag?”

As usual, Takanashi-san stomped right on my landmine.

It was a calm autumn afternoon, the fourth floor of a nondescript building in Ogikubo, Tokyo, where the perpetually empty board game café “Kurumaza” stood. At a table in the quiet shop, I, Tokiwa Kotarou—17 years old, acting manager, and die-hard board game otaku—sat across from this high school gyaru part-timer. She, with zero love for board games, was casually drying her nails while tossing out a remark that dismissed the very soul of my passion: dice.

“…Haa.”

I let out a heavy sigh, closed the rulebook for the new dice game we were testing, and set it gently on the table. Pushing up the bridge of my glasses with my right middle finger, I paused deliberately before letting my thick-lensed glasses glint as I spoke. “It’s not a drag in the slightest, is it?”

“Ugh, your whole vibe’s already, like, super draggy,” she shot back from across the table, her blunt retort dripping with exasperation and a hint of disdain. For a high school dropout introvert like me, it was a critical hit straight to my weak point.

But when it comes to my hobby, an otaku is invincible. Pointlessly invincible. I stood abruptly, snatching a handful of dice from the game we were testing, and began with a firm tone, “Listen up. The act of rolling dice is, in and of itself, already within the realm of ‘gaming.'”

“? Were we just talking about Jujutsu Kai○en or something?”

“No, we weren’t. But, I’ll admit, comparing the relationship between dice and board games to techniques and domains is kinda interesting. Alright, Takanashi-san, you get 10 points.”

“Woo! Totally buying Dior’s new makeup with those points.”

“Ah, s-sorry, those 10 points don’t actually have any monetary value…”

“Useless.”

“Ngh…! A-anyway, we’re talking about dice-rolling in board games right now.”

“Oh, that.” Takanashi-san blew lightly on her fingertips, barely engaged despite sparking the topic herself. Yet, in her carefree way, she dropped a surprisingly sharp observation. “Don’t dice games, like, totally tank the vibe sometimes?”

“W-well, I can’t exactly deny that aspect…” My right hand, which had been triumphantly holding the dice aloft, wilted and slowly lowered.

“Right~? When a customer gets bad rolls and can’t even compete, smoothing things over is, like, impossible.”

As expected from a board game café worker, even a half-hearted one. She’d pinpointed a sore spot while keeping the customers in mind. My eyes darted nervously, but I sat back down, determined to persuade her. “B-but, on the flip side, the subtle luck element of rolling dice makes it so even beginners can enjoy games, right?”

As I spoke, I tossed the handful of dice onto the cloth tray with a clatter—only to see every single one land on 3 or lower. Weak. Takanashi-san didn’t even glance at them, continuing as if unbothered. “Simple games that get people hyped with dice? Like what, gambling with odds and evens?”

“That’s a surprisingly gritty example. No, more in line with our café, think Vegas, Bluff, or Ciao Ciao. Their luck elements lower the barrier for beginners, don’t they?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess those exist.”

Takanashi-san fell silent, her focus still mostly on her nails, but it seemed she was genuinely considering my point. A moment of silence hung between us. Seizing the chance, I fixed my gaze on her.

Her vibrant pink bob-cut hair gleamed under the café’s soft lighting. Her neatly made-up face, soft pink lips blowing gently to dry her nails, carried an oddly alluring charm. The sailor-style uniform peeking out from under her employee apron lent a hint of innocence, while her skirt, hiked just shy of vulgar, struck a perfect balance of cute and sexy. In a few words, she was the quintessential Reiwa gyaru.

To a shut-in, introverted otaku like me, she was practically a natural enemy. On the street, I’d avert my eyes and scurry past her in a heartbeat. But right now, I stared at this coworker, my natural enemy, with unwavering focus.

There was only one reason a pathetic otaku like me could glare at a gyaru like her.

Deep in the depths of my heart, I—

—loved her so much I could hardly stand it.

Aah, Takanashi-san looks radiant from the front today too! My chest pounded so hard it was almost difficult to breathe, overwhelmed by her sheer brilliance.

Clutching my chest, I looked down, and as expected, Takanashi-san noticed something was off. “What’s up, Banjo?” Her voice carried a hint of concern—unbearably endearing, yet…

“…Nothing.” I quickly raised my face, wiped it clean of emotion, adjusted my glasses’ bridge, and responded nonchalantly. “It’s nothing. Just choked a bit on some ‘excess supply.'”

“What’s that supposed to mean? So creepy.”

Her casual verbal knife slashed my heart in an instant, and she returned to fiddling with her nails, lost in thought. Yet, I couldn’t help but gaze at her with burning eyes.

Let’s admit it—I was being super creepy right now. Truly, disgustingly human. This wasn’t the kind of look you give a “coworker” at a part-time job. But you can’t help loving what you love, just like even the most obedient dog can’t fully suppress its interest in food. In this two-person work environment, it was downright impossible not to soak in every bit of my crush’s radiance, her fragrance, her divine face. Every element she exuded was just so lovable.

……Yeah, okay, I’ll say it before you do. This guy’s seriously gross.

But, if I may make a slight excuse, I wasn’t always like this. When I first met Takanashi Mifuru half a year ago as an opening staff member at this board game café “Kurumaza,” my first impression of her was exactly as her appearance suggested—a bit hard to deal with.

This was a rundown board game café, though. We barely got customers and hardly interacted with other staff. There was a regular for a while, but they hadn’t shown up lately. So, for the past six months, it’d been just the two of us, day in and day out, spending hours together—sometimes chatting casually, sometimes diving into deep personal talks, but mostly just playfully testing board games.

And me? A virgin introvert who dropped out of high school a year ago and had barely interacted with anyone since.

……Come on, how could I not fall for her?! It was inevitable! Yeah, I know it’s pathetic. “You’re too easy,” right? As a board game otaku, I’m genuinely embarrassed for falling for the “otaku-friendly gyaru” trope. But my convoluted, petty pride couldn’t outweigh the genuine affection I felt for this fun coworker.

Takanashi Mifuru’s “exterior” was exactly as my first impression painted her—an outgoing extrovert, gyaru, and party girl. Her reason for taking this job? Something vague like “seemed kinda fun.” Naturally, she had no love or knowledge of board games and could barely handle “instructing” (explaining rules), the most essential skill for a board game café worker.

But—she wasn’t insincere. Sure, she messed up rule explanations, but the tables she joined always rang with laughter. Despite claiming she wasn’t into board games, she handled components—pieces, boards, and all—with care and gentleness. Above all, she was someone who truly listened to others. Whether she agreed or disagreed, she never dismissed someone’s opinion outright.

In other words, before being a board game café worker, she was an excellent “café worker”—no, an excellent “person.”

I’m a mess in more ways than one, having even dropped out of high school. That’s why Takanashi Mifuru, my coworker, is someone I genuinely admire. Watching her has taught me so much, and thanks to her, I’ve finally gotten the hang of customer service.

When it comes to board game knowledge, though, I’ve got the edge. Takanashi-san’s carefree personality is, frankly, spectacularly at odds with board games. So, I handle the “board game” side of our café, while she takes charge of the “café” part. For the past six months, we’ve complemented each other’s weaknesses, working together smoothly.

That dynamic often spilled over after work hours. If she teased my clothes or hairstyle, I’d call her out for botching a rule explanation, sometimes sparking a decent argument and a briefly tense mood. But by the next day, I’d show up with my hair and outfit tweaked to her advice, and she’d avoid repeating the same rule mistake. It was just our routine.

Then, one night, after a fulfilling day of playing board games with my family, savoring a delicious dinner, and feeling like I had no regrets left, I soaked leisurely in the bath. A thought bubbled up naturally, like foam rising in my heart.

“Aah, if only I could talk to Takanashi-san a bit more.”

The words slipped out, surprising even me, and I chuckled softly.

To think that I, Tokiwa Kotarou—once content as long as I had board games—now felt my days were lacking without her. At this point, no matter how frustrating, I had to admit it: I, Tokiwa Kotarou, am hopelessly in love with this coworker—

—Takanashi Mifuru.

Once I acknowledged those feelings, the next step was obvious—confessing. I know that. But I still haven’t told her how I feel. For all sorts of reasons, sure, but it boils down to the classic cowardice of not wanting to ruin what we have.

“Chicken.”

“Huh!?”

My heart jumped as the object of my affection suddenly called out my cowardice. But it seemed Takanashi-san meant something else entirely.

“Like, that Chicken-something… Oh, Chicken Race? Those dice games where you roll and mess up—it kinda makes sense, y’know?”

“Oh, you meant the dice game.”

“Haven’t we been talking about that this whole time?”

Fair point. I cleared my throat to sidestep her puzzled look. “True, even if you stumble due to ‘dice luck,’ if it’s a failure from a risk you chose, it’s frustrating but satisfying, right? Like Vegas.”

As I spoke, I thought, Yeah, that applies to my love life too. Takanashi-san, for some reason, peered at me with a teasing grin.

“What’s that look?”

“Hehe, Banjo, you were totally thinking about Utakata-chan just now, weren’t you? You had that ‘lovestruck virgin’ face!”

“Hah?”

Her accusation was so off-base I genuinely tilted my head. No, the one I was thinking about was you, right in front of me. Utakata-san didn’t even cross my mind—until I suddenly remembered a certain “setting” of mine and hurriedly backtracked.

“Oh, y-yeah! Sorry! I was totally thinking about ‘Utakata-san’!”

A quick pivot. Luckily, Takanashi-san didn’t seem suspicious, laughing, “Told ya!”

“Don’t underestimate my love-detecting eyes!”

“Haha, my apologies, Master Takanashi!”

“No need to grovel, no need to grovel.”

She played along cheerfully with my exaggerated bowing. …Phew, dodged that one. That was close.

I’d completely forgotten the fictional setting that I, Tokiwa Kotarou, am “in love with Utakata Tsukino.” Breathing a sigh of relief, Takanashi-san pressed on excitedly.

“So, I haven’t asked in a while, but how’s it going with Utakata-chan?”

“Nothing’s going on. I keep telling you, Utakata-san is just someone I ‘admire.’ She’s a high-flying flower I have no connection with, so there’s no way there’d be any progress.”

“Ugh, your love stories are always so boring, Banjo.”

“Sorry for being boring.”

I waved my hand dismissively. Yep, I’ve been feeding Takanashi-san this “super dull, fake love story” for a while now. Why? Obviously…

…to keep her from realizing that the one I really like is her, Takanashi Mifuru.

Ideally, I’d hide that I’m in love with anyone at all. But with my crush right in front of me all day at work, my “lovestruck virgin face” slips out now and then, as she so keenly pointed out. To dodge her probing naturally, I crafted this “Tokiwa Kotarou is pining for Utakata Tsukino” ruse.

By the way, Utakata-san is a real person—a bit of a local celebrity. A high school student and female shogi player, holding the prestigious “Women’s Meijin” title, no less.

Utakata Tsukino was, in this day and age, undeniably a beauty. Long, glossy black hair, sharp, intelligent eyes, and a slender, model-like figure—she was the kind of woman who naturally drew media attention. Already somewhat known locally as a genius shogi girl, her fame exploded nationally after the Women’s Meijin tournament. A young female player climbing the ranks and pulling off a giant-killing victory to claim the title was a story that captivated many. Though her national hype had cooled slightly since that win, lacking further standout successes, her local popularity remained unshaken.

For a while, male customers at the café couldn’t stop talking about her, tossing around rumors laced with embellishments. “I saw her buying potatoes at the supermarket, so she’s gotta be domestic!” or “Her tenacious playstyle means she’s definitely the clingy type in love!” or “I heard she’s into board games!” Just shallow idealizations to suit their fantasies.

That’s exactly why I saw an opportunity to use this frenzy to my advantage. By posing as just another nobody pining for “Utakata Tsukino,” I could maintain a sustainable, shallow fake love story that was easy to keep up. …Though, it’s so shallow I keep forgetting about it myself, which is a flaw.

“Banjo, why don’t you just, like, lightly confess already?” Takanashi-san suggested, carefully applying a glossy coat to her nails.

I brushed it off as usual. “Nah, there’s no such thing as a ‘light’ love confession.”

“There totally is. Just shoot her a LINE like, ‘Yo, I might kinda like you.’”

“What’s with that annoying extrovert vibe? Anyway, Takanashi-san, what would you think if some random guy sent you a LINE like that?”

“Ew, no way. Creepy. Super annoying. I might even blast him on SNS.”

“You just told me to do that!”

“Ahhahha.”

“What’s so funny?!”

This girl nearly derailed my life with her playful suggestion. Is she a demon? Also, I obviously don’t have Utakata Tsukino’s contact info, but since I might’ve vaguely implied we were acquaintances in past conversations, I let it slide.

To Takanashi-san, still meticulously coating her pinky nail, I spoke up. “By the way, we’re in the middle of testing this new dice game. It’s your turn.”

“Oh, right. My bad, my bad. So, what do I do?”

“First, roll five dice at once. Then, based on the results…”

“If you get five ‘favorite numbers’ in a row, it’s an instant big win, right?”

“No, there’s no Exodia-level system like that.”

“Exo…? Ugh, otakus who get off on dropping cryptic references like that are seriously annoying.”

“I don’t wanna hear that from someone who casually throws out a vague concept like ‘favorite numbers.’”

“Oh, ‘favorite numbers’ are, like, the numbers that represent your ultimate crush—”

“Oh, I don’t care if that’s party-girl logic. Uh, sorry about that.”

I apologized to smooth things over, cleared my throat, and steered the conversation back. “Anyway, just roll the dice already. Here.”

I offered her five dice, but Takanashi-san glanced at them and made no move to take them. As I tilted my head in confusion, she gave a wry smile. “Sorry, Banjo, my hands are kinda occupied right now.”

She flashed her still-wet nails. I sighed in exasperation. “Why’d you start doing your nails in the middle of a board game test run?”

“Well, even if both my hands are busy with nails, I’ve still got you, Banjo.”

“You’re counting me as one of your hands?”

Man, hardcore extroverts are something else—their concept of “others” is fundamentally different from mine. I couldn’t help but grumble with a sigh. “Haa… If that’s the case, you shouldn’t have agreed to join my board game test in the first place.”

“What? But board games are way more fun with two people than alone, right?”

“Well, yeah, that’s true.”

“Then joining you’s the only option. So, Banjo, you having fun?”

Takanashi-san flashed an innocent smile. …Ahh~, this is bad… I love her so much.

This girl was just too cute when she did stuff like this. Seriously.

“Alright, Banjo, roll my dice for me and handle my turn too.”

“That’s basically just me playing solo at this point, isn’t it?”

“Ehehe.”

“Jeez…”

Grumbling, I reluctantly rolled her dice. For someone like me, the thrill of a dice game lies in this exact moment—rolling the dice with your own hands, hearing them clatter. If you leave that to someone else, what’s even the point of playing a board game—

“Well, the most important thing in a board game is who you’re sitting at the table with, right? I’m having a blast right now, so no problem here. How about you, Banjo?”

“…Who knows.”

I’m having a total blast. I love you. I love you so much. You’re too perfect, it hurts.

But I suppressed my excitement and responded flatly while handling her turn. Man, I’m such a pushover. Sometimes I wonder if this gyaru knows exactly what she’s doing and is just toying with me. …Well, if that were true, it’d actually make things easier.

As I placed Takanashi-san’s dice on the board and advanced the game, she gazed at it vaguely and brought up the love talk again. “Like, love’s all about putting your feelings out there first, y’know?”

“I mean, there’s some truth to that.”

“Some truth? It’s the truth. And in that sense, whether you win or lose…” She paused, glancing between the board game and me, then declared, “You’ve gotta roll the dice before the love (game) can even start!”

“Okay, stop with that smug look and the world’s cheesiest ruby text.”

This self-proclaimed love expert gyaru just tried to sound cool by tying love to board games in front of an otaku. What’s with her? —So freaking cute, though.

I tried to deflect my feelings by lightly changing the subject. “You say that so easily, but rolling the dice in that game comes with high risks. In some cases, it could even wreck relationships. You wouldn’t just roll a die with that kind of outcome so casually, would you?”

“Wreck relationships? You and Utakata-chan don’t even have a relationship to—”

“Anyway.” To keep her from figuring out who I’m really thinking about, I cut her off sharply. “I’m not planning to confess right now. And I’m fine with that.”

“…Whatever.”

Takanashi-san’s emotionless reply carried a hint of disappointment as she lost interest and returned to drying her nails.

…Honestly, I knew I’d said something dull. In board games, taking a risky bet can make things thrilling. Even if you lose, the memories are irreplaceable. Takanashi-san was saying love is like that too. And yeah, I know confessing and crashing would feel better than stewing like this. But I just can’t. I can’t confess to her. Because—

Her phone, carelessly left on the table, buzzed. My eyes caught the screen without meaning to.

〈Incoming Call: Usa-kun〉

I saw something I didn’t want to. I quickly averted my gaze out of courtesy, but Takanashi-san, as usual, didn’t seem to care. “Gonna take this, Banjo.”

“Go ahead. But if it’s a call, maybe use the break room—”

“Yo, it’s me!” She answered with high energy, cutting me off. Well, there are no customers, so I guess it’s fine. But, y’know, I’m still here.

“Usa-kun, what’s up? You calling me is, like, super rare!” Her tone, which had been subdued while talking to me, shifted to bright and lively as she chatted with a sparkling smile.

Feeling awkward for all sorts of reasons, I stood to leave. But Takanashi-san, quick to notice, met my eyes and gestured, signaling, ‘You don’t have to worry about it’ and ‘Stay where you are, Banjo.’ Yeah, I appreciate the consideration, but for personal reasons, I really don’t want to be here right now…

Unable to protest, I sat back down and resumed skimming the rulebook. Naturally, none of it sank in. Because right in front of me, Takanashi-san… my serious crush— “Hehe, what’s that? That’s hilarious. …Yeah, I love you too.”

—is hardcore flirting with her boyfriend!

“Huh? Yeah, I’m at work. Nah, it’s fine, it’s fine. No customers right now. Haha, no way I’d have this kind of convo in front of people.”

Apparently, I don’t even count as a “person,” let alone a “guy.” My hand tightened instinctively on the manual, but no matter how flimsy the paper, it’s a vital board game component. I held back to avoid creasing it. It felt oddly pathetic that I could control my grip with such rationality even now.

I scanned the manual’s text pointlessly, trying to block out her conversation by focusing inward. …No need to spell it out, but this is the biggest reason I can’t confess. The cute, kind gyaru who’s nice even to someone like me obviously has a partner.

When you think about it, it’s obvious. I’m not delusional enough to think I’m the only one who’s noticed her charm, and she never lied about being single. She told me about her boyfriend early on when we started having personal conversations. I fell for her despite knowing she’s taken. Honestly, it’s just plain foolish. I don’t even have the right to call this heartbreak. I’m just a pathetic creep with a one-sided crush.

Confessing is out of the question. More than that, I have to avoid even the slightest chance of her noticing my feelings. Because for someone with a loving partner, having a coworker pine for them is nothing but a creepy nuisance. It’s the same for her boyfriend—knowing his girlfriend is being eyed by a coworker would be infuriating. In the worst case, it could even push her to quit this job.

But Takanashi Mifuru is essential to this café. To the manager, to the customers… and, needless to say, to me, Tokiwa Kotarou. Everyone wants her to work here freely and happily. In other words,

My feelings of love are nothing but a nuisance to everyone.

And yet, those feelings just won’t go away.

The simplest solution would be for me to quit. But even that’s not straightforward. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked it—a post in the café’s group LINE. A tanned guy with sunglasses and unnaturally white teeth, a flashy, blond, middle-aged dude, posing with a surfboard against a beach backdrop. …It’s the manager.

〈Big waves coming tomorrow morning… That’s what the Hawaiian sea whispered to me.〉

“Yeah, it was whispering the same thing yesterday and the day before, you jerk!” I nearly chucked my phone in frustration but held back. Then came his usual request.

〈So, I’m leaving the shop entirely to you, ‘Acting Manager’ Banjo-kun.〉

“Haah…” I clutched my head.

This is the biggest reason I can’t just quit. If I quit, this board game café would collapse. It’s not just my ego talking, unfortunately. I’m handling ninety percent of the manager’s duties. Normally, if I left, the manager would step in, but you’ve seen how he is. He has no attachment to “board games.” He’s more of an owner type. The moment he deems this café “an unprofitable hassle,” he’d probably switch it to a different concept in a heartbeat. The shop’s decor is already looking pretty Hawaiian thanks to his influence.

If I quit, this “board game café” would be done for. How did it come to this? I was just a lowly otaku hired for my board game knowledge. But then they asked for my input on game purchases, food menus, supplier negotiations, HVAC maintenance… until I ended up with all these responsibilities. Eventually, the manager dumped ninety percent of the café’s operations on me and took off for a “training” trip to surf.

It’s an insane workload for a part-timer, with no extra pay—straight-up exploitative. I’ve even started using the manager’s official stamp like it’s nothing. It’s a miracle this place hasn’t gone under—or rather, it’s weird that it’s still standing.

If I were only thinking about myself, I’d quit in a heartbeat. My crush is constantly gushing about her boyfriend, the manager’s a deadbeat, the workload’s brutal, I can’t even enjoy board games freely, and the pay’s garbage. It’s the worst situation imaginable. But…

I glanced up from my phone. Takanashi-san was still chatting happily with her boyfriend. “Yeah, it’s kinda worrying. We barely get any customers here.”

Her eyes flicked to me, and for some reason, she gave a friendly wave with a smile. I returned a wry smile and a small wave. Still looking at me, she told her boyfriend, “But this job, I really love it.”

“!”

I couldn’t meet her eyes and looked away. My heart pounded wildly, though Takanashi-san’s words weren’t a confession aimed at me. She didn’t seem to notice my agitation, continuing her cheerful chat with her boyfriend. “It’s chill, relaxed, and super comfy—it’s basically perfect, right? Plus, I can talk to you like this, Usa-kun.”

Her voice brimmed with a pure, beaming smile. I let out a resigned sigh but couldn’t stop gazing at her profile with quiet affection. This is the real reason I don’t want this café to go under. Even if her love for this job stems from having time to talk to her boyfriend, I want to protect this place she cherishes. I want to keep it safe for her.

If the café collapses due to financial struggles, that’s just how it is. But I can’t stomach the thought of it closing because I quit, hastening its end. So here I am, dragging my feet, stuck in this limbo—

“Yeah. How many times do I have to say it? …I really love you, Usa-kun.”

—forced to watch my crush flirt with her boyfriend front-row, nearly every day. Did I spend my past life kicking mating animals or something? That’s the only way to make sense of this hell.

To distract myself, I grabbed a candy from the basket on the table, a service item for customers. True to the board game café vibe, they’re square, dice-shaped candies from a local confectionery company, provided free as a promotion. Unlike real dice, each candy has the same number on all sides—some all 6s, some all 1s, randomly packed. Opening one is like a mini dice roll. The candy I unwrapped was a “3.” Not a 1 or a 6, just slightly below average. A number that feels very… me.

—And then.

“?”

As I was about to pop the candy into my mouth, Takanashi-san, still on the phone, tapped the table—tap tap—to get my attention.

“Yeah, I think I’ll be done here soon. What about you, Usa-kun?” While talking, she gestured with her free hand, pinching something small and bringing it to her mouth.

“Uh… aah, you want a candy?” I guessed in a low voice. She nodded eagerly. Got it—her hand’s tied up with the phone, so she can’t unwrap one herself.

I mumbled an acknowledgment, about to eat the candy I’d unwrapped—

“?”

Tap tap tap! She tapped the table harder, looking slightly irritated. Confused, I watched her add more gestures. It seemed she was saying…

〈Feed that to me.〉

“Huh? No, why would I—” Then it hit me. These candies come in three flavors—lemon, cola, and soda, six of each in a bag. The one I held was lemon, but the basket only had cola and soda left. “Oh, Takanashi-san, you like lemon, right?”

She nodded vigorously. Crap, my bad. I’m usually careful about flavors because of certain reasons, but today, lost in escaping reality, I grabbed the last lemon one without thinking. Worse, I’d already touched it. Even though I’d just sanitized my hands, a candy I’d handled probably wasn’t something she’d want.

“Sorry, I’ll grab a new one from the back, just wait—”

〈Feed that to me.〉

Takanashi-san pointed insistently at the candy I was holding and then at her mouth. What is she, a bully? Is she the type who can’t hold back once she’s got her heart set on something?

Still, I’d already touched it with my fingers.

To make that clear, I held the candy up toward her.

“Look, I’ve already touched this—”

The moment I extended it toward her, “Nom.”

“Huh?”

Takanashi Mifuru’s moist lips enveloped the candy—along with my fingertips.

“——”

Her tongue deftly scooped the candy away.

Then, with a sultry pop as she pulled back…

She looked straight at me, provocatively, and mouthed the words.

〈Thanks for the treat.〉

“……”

……

……Aah, I get it now.

This is what they mean by “my brain’s getting fried.”

I stood there, stunned, unable to move my slightly damp, tingling fingertips even a millimeter.

—But

“Alright, ten minutes from now, at the shop. Yeah… yeah. I’m looking forward to it too. Bye, Usa-kun.”

Her call with her boyfriend snapped me back to reality. Without thinking, and unsure who I was being considerate of, I hurriedly wiped my fingertips with a disposable wet wipe. Looking back, that might’ve been rude, but I didn’t know the right move either. All I knew was Takanashi-san didn’t seem to care one bit about my fingertips.

“So, Banjo, Usa-kun’s coming to pick me up in ten minutes. Fix that bedhead, yeah?”

“Why do I need to get ready for Usa-kun?” I quipped, running a hand through my hair to check for bedhead. Takanashi-san snickered with a “shishi” and slipped off to the restroom to touch up her makeup.

Watching her leave, I looked at my fingertips again. The giddy feeling had faded entirely. “…To Takanashi-san, this was probably no big deal, huh…” The “temperature difference” between us always stings. Getting flustered just makes me feel like an utterly insignificant guy.

I wiped my fingers firmly once more and tossed the wet wipe into the trash. “Alright, time to switch gears. First… right, the candy restock.” I’d run out of lemon-flavored ones earlier. Grabbing a new assortment pack from behind the counter, I poured it into the basket. I’d felt bad for “taking the last lemon” in the heat of the moment, but Takanashi-san’s probably why the lemon ones disappear so fast.

“Huh, this is kinda like a dice-pick system,” I muttered with a wry smile, staring at the dice-shaped candies. A dice-pick system—rolling multiple dice and choosing the ones that best suit your needs.

The beauty of a dice-pick system lies in how it tempers the luck element with choice. You roll multiple dice, but the “choosing” part gives players some control, especially in games where everyone picks from a shared pool. Your desired die might get snatched by the player before you, or you might grab what someone else needs. Getting toyed with by luck while playing those mind games is what makes it thrilling.

I picked out a lemon candy from the pile and muttered, “Well, no matter how much you want it, if another player’s already picked it, there’s nothing you can do.”

I’m not sure who those words were for. Even I didn’t quite know.

But the next moment—“Nuh-uh.”

—A hand reached from behind and deftly snatched the lemon candy from me. I turned around quickly. Standing there was—

“You gotta take what you want.”

—a blond high school boy so striking even I, a guy, couldn’t help but stare.

“…Usa-kun.”

“Yo, Tokiwa-kun.”

He raised his free hand in a casual greeting, flashing an innocent smile. Takanashi-san’s boyfriend—Usa Itsuki. Every move he made was effortlessly cool, a dazzling contrast to my perpetually grumpy demeanor.

Shielding my eyes from his blinding presence, I looked away while responding, “H-Hey, Usa-kun, you’re early. Takanashi-san said it’d be about ten more minutes…”

“Oh, yeah, my LINE was lagging or something. Anyway, she was hogging the lemon candies again, wasn’t she? And probably snatched it from you, right?”

His insight was annoyingly sharp, swinging the topic right back. This guy’s always been frustratingly high-spec. But after projecting my situation onto the lemon candy moments ago, talking about this with Usa-kun felt painfully awkward. I turned away, pretending to busy myself, and brushed it off. “Uh, yeah, pretty much. But I’m fine with any flavor, so…”

As I spoke, I realized I still hadn’t eaten a candy. Wait, where’d the one I was holding go…? Rummaging through my employee apron’s pockets, I barely registered Usa-kun continuing, “You don’t have to let Mifuru walk all over you, Tokiwa-kun.”

“Hm? Oh, no, it’s not that big a deal…”

He seemed to have misunderstood something. I turned to correct him, but—

“Here.”

“Huh?”

—in that instant, something was pressed against my lips. …A candy?

Usa-kun was holding it to my mouth with his elegant fingers. Caught off guard, I reflexively let it slip in. My lips might’ve brushed his fingertips for a split second, but he didn’t seem to care, flashing a bright smile. “Taste good?”

“Uh? Oh, y-yeah. Thanks…”

“Cool, glad you like it.”

The blond guy grinned like a kid who’d helped out a parent. His overwhelming “shine” nearly swallowed me whole. But then, “See? Like I said.”

“Uh… what was that again?”

To me, still dazed, Usa-kun continued without a hint of exasperation, “You gotta take what you want.”

“…”

I fell silent. His clear eyes felt a little intimidating just then. You gotta take what you want. Warm encouragement to not give up on love, but also a merciless dismissal that anything you can’t have is worthless. I had no way of knowing what Usa-kun meant. No, I didn’t want to know. In the end, I deflected with my usual noncommittal response, “H-Haha, yeah, that’s the kind of smooth move you’d expect from a popular guy. Just casually doing stuff like—”

“Huh? No way, I’d only do that with someone I’m really close to. What, am I an idiot?”

“……”

“Anyway, got any new games in? Your recommendations are always top-tier, Tokiwa-kun.”

He said it so casually and headed toward the board game shelf. I see, I see. “(No wonder people fall for him!)” Usa-kun’s not just a lady-killer—he’s a people-killer. His natural charisma, unintentional yet overwhelming, drives home how inadequate I am, how foolish it is to pine for Takanashi-san.

But more than that, on a simpler, more troubling level… “Oh, actually, we just got a new game that’s totally your style, Usa-kun. You like space themes, right?”

“No way, really?”

“Yeah. I was reading the rulebook earlier, and it’s feeling pretty solid so far. Check it out.”

“Whoa, the artwork’s already godly! This is hype!”

—I genuinely like this love rival as a friend.

That’s exactly why my feelings can’t be found out by anyone. It’d only lead to bad outcomes for everyone.

Five minutes of lively board game talk with Usa-kun later, Takanashi-san returned from touching up her makeup and threw a sharp jab upon seeing us. “Aah~, Banjo’s stealing my boyfriend again!”

“Totally stealing him.”

“Completely stolen.”

We brushed off her complaint with half-hearted replies while checking the game’s rules. “But, Tokiwa-kun, what’s the penalty standard if this process gets duplicated…?”

“Oh, good point, that’s a possible scenario. I missed that. …Yeah, I should probably make a clear summary for that before we stock it.”

“Whoa, seriously? You’re so diligent, Tokiwa-kun. I respect the heck outta you.”

“Nah, if we’re talking sharp insights, your catch there was impressive. Spotting that in such a short time…”

“Stop flirting and ignoring your girlfriend!” Takanashi-san pouted. Usa-kun gave a wry smile and said, “Sorry, sorry,” to which she melted instantly with a dreamy, “It’s all good!” …Alright.

“Sorry to you too, Takanashi-san.”

“Yeah, Banjo, you owe me a groveling apology.”

“I demand clear penalty standards for this too!”

The gap between how she treats her boyfriend and the rest of humanity is staggering. I keep calling Takanashi-san a “gyaru who’s nice to everyone,” but I might need to rethink that. She sidled up to Usa-kun, tugging at his arm to make her point. “Hey, Usa-kun, let’s go already. I’m bored of board games.”

I called her out sternly, eyeing her clingy demeanor. “Bored? You barely played, Takanashi-san. You’ve just been messing with your hair and nails all day since there are no customers.”

She glared back, firing off a sharp retort. “I got bored watching you, Banjo. It’s like watching a mukbang video of someone gorging—it makes me wanna gag.”

The analogy was annoyingly relatable, which stung worse. She’s the type with no knowledge but high intelligence. …Well, that’s one of the things I love about her.

Usa-kun chuckled at our back-and-forth. “You guys get along so well, as always.”

“Where are you getting that from after that exchange?” I replied, exasperated.

He brushed it off casually. “I mean, I’ve never gotten to see Mifuru messing with her nails or anything.”

“…”

For a second, it felt like an accusation of cheating, and my heart skipped a beat. But it’s obvious, isn’t it? I sighed and responded, “Well, yeah, she’s getting ready to look good for you, so of course she wouldn’t do it in front of you.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Blind spot.”

Usa-kun backed off easily. It’s just the truth. Annoyed at being shaken up for nothing, I turned to Takanashi-san. “Takanashi-san, say something—”

“…………Heh?” She looked agitated, her face a mix of… embarrassment? And anger? Directed at Usa-kun? But why?

“(What was that expression? Embarrassment… and anger? At Usa-kun? But why?)” After months of close interaction, I thought I’d gotten good at reading her emotions, but this made no sense. What in our conversation could’ve made her mad at him? “(Is it some girly thing, like not wanting him to know she’s prepping for him? But then, she’d be mad at me, not him…)”

I couldn’t make sense of it. For now, I apologized. “S-Sorry, Takanashi-san. I guess I was a bit tactless there.”

“Huh? …Aah, yeah. Totally, Banjo. That’s exactly your problem.”

“Y-Yes, sorry. I’ll be more careful.”

“Good. Keep at it.”

“What’s with this master-student dynamic?”

Usa-kun, watching our exchange, chimed in with an exasperated tone. I gave a wry smile. “I mean, I’m good with board games, but my people skills are pretty weak.”

“Really? I find you super easy to talk to, Tokiwa-kun. Honestly, I’ve got nothing but good vibes for you.”

“U-Usa-kun.” “(God, what’s with this guy? I love him. Hug me.)” But as I sent Usa-kun a swooning look, Takanashi-san, predictably, cut in.

“Hey, stop stealing my boyfriend, Banjo!”

“I’m not stealing him. I just wanna keep hanging out with Usa-kun forever.”

“Yeah, me too, me too!”

“Okay, you’re totally stealing him now!”

We laughed together over the playful banter. Then Usa-kun stood, ready to leave. “Alright, Mifuru and I are gonna head out. Tokiwa-kun, you…”

“Oh, I’ve got closing duties as usual, so don’t worry about me—”

“Yay, Usa-kun, let’s go! What’re we doing next?”

“Okay, maybe worry about me a little.”

“THANKS FOR CLEANING UP BANJO.”

“A robot voice has more emotion than that.”

“Oh, Tokiwa-kun, if closing’s tough, I can help out a bit.”

This guy’s way too good to match his girlfriend. “N-No, I’m fine. Usa-kun, go have a fun dinner with your girlfriend ASAP.”

“Yeah, let’s get outta this board game-stinking place, Usa-kun.”

“You’ve got some nerve saying that about your own workplace.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean the place smells like board games—I meant the staff.”

“Alright, Takanashi-san, come here. I’m gonna teach you the rules of the ‘Nail-Peeling Game.’”

“Eek, Banjo’s scary!”

“Whoa, Mifuru, don’t yank my arm like that. See ya, Tokiwa-kun!”

“Bye-bye, Banjo. Oh, wait! Gimme one more candy!”

At the door, Takanashi-san turned back, gesturing for me to toss her one. With a light sigh, I rummaged through the restocked candies, found a lemon one, and threw it to her. She caught it, checked the flavor with a quick glance, and flashed an innocent smile. “Hehe!”

I looked away and muttered, “Hurry up and go already.”

“Wow, this place has bad vibes. I’m leaving a one-star review later.”

“Yeah, yeah, do whatever.”

“Haha, see ya, Banjo. …Sorry to keep you waiting, Usa-kun! So, what’re we eating?”

Takanashi-san bounced out of the shop, pulling Usa-kun’s hand with a cheerful squeal. It’s infuriating beyond words. Beyond words, but…

“……”

“……Ugh, damn it, that smile’s so unfair.”

Seeing her that happy, as someone crushing on her, I can’t say a thing. Is this how fans feel when their favorite idol announces a happy marriage? I’ll have to ask Takeshi about it sometime. …But honestly, if Takanashi-san’s happy, that’s more than enough.

My feelings for her, worth less than pocket change, should just be tossed somewhere. Somewhere…

“You’ve gotta roll the dice before the love (game) can even start, right?”

“……”

Her words echoed in my mind. “…But, well, if I’m gonna ‘toss’ something…”

A single die sat in the tray on the table. I picked it up, recalling the number on the dice-shaped candy I gave her earlier—the “3” that felt so me—and with a small laugh, I declared to the gods, “If it’s a 3, I’ll confess. Anything else, I give up for good.”

A love with a five-out-of-six chance of ending. A lousy flower-petal fortune-telling at best. With her having a boyfriend, even that’s too generous. I steeled myself and tossed the die onto the tray.

Leaving a life-changing decision to chance is utterly ridiculous. Normally, you’d wrestle with it, think it through, and make your own choice. But when it comes to love, there’s probably no such thing as a “right” answer. No matter what you choose, you’ll regret it. If that’s the case, losing to the whims of a bad bet might feel a bit more refreshing. Just like board games that use dice. What matters isn’t getting it “right.” It’s about having no regrets.

The die clattered and spun in the tray, then came to a stop. “…So that’s how it goes, huh.”

I let out a heavy sigh at the merciless prank of the gaming gods. To gather my strength, I popped my favorite cola-flavored candy into my mouth.

＊

A lemon-flavored dice-shaped candy, all six sides marked with three dots—a “3.” Holding the pale yellow candy up to the crimson sunset, Takanashi Mifuru smiled happily. Her boyfriend, Usa, walking a bit ahead, glanced back. Mifuru popped the candy into her mouth, her face lighting up with adorable bliss.

Seeing her like that, the blond pretty boy asked with a slightly exasperated look, “Mifuru, since when were you that obsessed with lemon flavor?”

“Well, y’know. But this time, it’s ‘cause the roll was good, so it’s extra hype.”

“Roll? What, like the candy’s flavor depends on the roll?”

Thinking it was a joke, Usa laughed brightly and kept walking. But Mifuru paused, tracing the “3” with her tongue in her mouth. With a shy lover’s blush, she murmured softly,

“…My favorite number, maybe.”