Chapter 12: Route Branch

Time flies like an arrow, or so the saying goes—a poetic phrase that tempts you to toss around lofty words, but in truth, daily life just blazes past in a fleeting glow.

It had been roughly two weeks since Toudou and I faced off in games at my uncle’s café. July had swept in, bringing with it climbing temperatures and that restless buzz in the air as summer break loomed.

As for Toudou and me, nothing had shifted between us—we were still just gaming partners, nothing more. In the classroom, we were mere classmates, exchanging no more than the usual nods or words. But on the stair landing, we were comrades in arms, free to banter and joke without restraint, carving out our own little haven where no one else’s opinions mattered.

Not a single soul at school knew about our bond. It was easy, and comfortable—or so I believed, until that incident turned everything upside down.

Apparently, the synonym for “high schooler” is “youth.”

No matter what you do, it’s all youth. Studying, club activities, hanging out, eating ramen, fighting, making up—everything gets swapped out for that “youth” label.

Lunch break buzzed with the usual chaos of the classroom. A guy, brimming with relentless energy, had stormed into the territory of the intellectual gyaru group, bold and alone. That, apparently, was youth. Meanwhile, I sat behind my desk, feeling nothing but cramped discomfort—an awkward bystander to the scene unfolding right behind me. Hardly the stuff of vibrant youth; just plain annoying.

The guy, Sawatari, had been rattling off his pitch for a while, his voice practically bouncing off the walls. He was dead set on dragging the girls into some summer break escapade. “Hey, hey! It’s summer vacation, right? No plans for the beach or pool? Come hang with our group for a day! I’ll treat you all!” His enthusiasm was almost blinding.

The short-haired gyaru with blue-tinted inner highlights, sharp as ever, shot him down without missing a beat. “Shut up, Saruwatari. Persistent monkeys get hated, you know.” Her tone was cool, slicing through his fervor like a blade.

Sawatari, undeterred, grinned wide. The “monkey” jab wasn’t an insult—just his name minus a syllable. “It’s not Saruwatari, it’s Sawatari!” he corrected cheerfully.

“Monkey either way,” she retorted. “Monkey-boy.”

“Ukii!” Sawatari leaned into the tease, practically reveling in it. Maybe he was into that kind of thing. I’d seen him before, lurking in the hallway, tossing pickup lines at girls from our class. He wasn’t exactly a looker, but his guts? Heroic, from where I was sitting.

The girl with ash-toned, wavy hair delivered the final blow. “Besides, who’d go to the beach with a monkey like you? Some of us have boyfriends, so no way.”

“Come on, we’re friends!” Sawatari countered, unfazed. “It’s not just the two of us—it’s a group, same grade, no cheating vibes or anything!”

“That’s not something you say while leering like that. You’re just after our swimsuits, aren’t you?”

If that jab had hit me, I’d have been floored. But Sawatari dodged it with ease. “Nooo, I just want some proper high school youth!” he insisted, his voice dripping with exaggerated innocence.

The chatter was lively, but Toudou’s voice was conspicuously absent. After all those hours gaming together, I’d gotten good at picking out her voice amongst the classroom’s chatter—a useless talent, really. Youth, they say, isn’t eternal; it’s got a deadline. And as lunch break ticked closer to its end, Sawatari’s odds of winning the girls over seemed to be fading fast.

Then he pulled a classic move, aiming straight for the heart of the group. “Hey, don’t you think so too, Toudou-san? Hanging out for just one day, expanding our circle of friends—can’t bring any bad karma, right? Huh? Huh?” He charged through the banter, targeting Toudou directly.

I wondered how she’d handle it. Pretending to mess with my phone, I was all ears, though the screen was just a prop by now.

“Eh, hmm? Yeah, I guess,” Toudou’s voice came, soft and hesitant, like she was glancing around for an escape. No rescue came from the gyaru group, though—Sawatari was the only one keeping the conversation alive, practically glowing with delight.

“I’ll call some cool guys too!” he pressed on. “Like, Amamiya and Saionji—I’ll definitely get them. I don’t have talents, but I’ve got connections. Pretty impressive, huh?”

It wasn’t Toudou who bit—it was the others. “Eh, really? You can get Amamiya-kun and Saionji-kun? They’re always so busy,” one of the girls said, her tone shifting with interest.

“Yeah, I’ll get them. Absolutely!” Sawatari doubled down. “So, come on! Let’s hit the beach. If there’s anyone else you want to invite, I’ll make it happen. Please! Let me see you all in swimsuits!” His mask slipped, desires laid bare.

I nearly facepalmed, but the girls were too caught up in the promise of “hot guys” to care. The vibe in the room shifted—less resistance, more intrigue. Poor Toudou was stuck. She’s the type to go with the flow, so escaping this was probably a lost cause. Just as I’d figured.

Sure enough, her voice rang out, resigned. “If everyone’s really going, I think I can make time during summer break.”

“For real!? Yes! Toudou-san, it’s a promise, okay!?” Sawatari’s victory cry echoed. The hero had won, peace was restored, and my little corner of the classroom would finally quiet down.

I wanted to hit the bathroom before class, but the timing felt off. Moving now would be awkward, so I just stared ahead, waiting for the bell to save me. Toudou’s expression? No clue. I didn’t dare look back.

“Sawatari-kun, if we’re going to the beach, can I add one condition?” Toudou’s voice cut through the chatter, brimming with an unexpected resolve.

Sawatari, riding the high of his victorious plan, practically vibrated with enthusiasm. “One or two, whatever! Lay it on me!”

“Good. There’s a friend I want to bring along.”

“Of course, okay!”

“Thanks. Then yeah, I’ll definitely go to the beach.”

With Toudou’s surrender, the tide turned. The girls, who’d been wavering with their “What should I do~?” hesitations, now chimed in, “If Mashiro’s going, I’ll go too~.” Toudou had that kind of pull—a single word from her could sway the crowd’s fate.

Sawatari pressed on, all business. “So, who do you want to bring, Toudou-san? Tell me so I can work them into the schedule. I’ll make a group on LIME—add me!”

True to his word, Sawatari whipped out his phone, fingers flying as he created the group chat with pro-level efficiency. Gamers like that existed—masters of multitasking—but I had no ties to that world. Toudou’s suggestion was accepted without fanfare, and the group’s focus shifted fully to the beach plans. Even my mind wandered elsewhere.

Then, Toudou let out a soft “Ah—” followed by a thoughtful “Hmm.”

It was like a director shouting “Cut!”—the classroom froze. A chill ran through me. I knew it. Toudou was about to drop something absurd, something that would derail everything.

“The one I’m bringing is this person…” she said, her voice faltering slightly, like a little girl shyly pleading for a toy—hesitant, embarrassed, but unwavering.

I braced for her next words, but they didn’t come. Not just hers—the entire classroom fell silent. No chatter, no giggles, nothing. And yet, I felt the weight of countless stares boring into me.

This wasn’t a premonition anymore. It was reality.

Heart pounding, I slowly turned around.

Every eye was on Toudou—or rather, on the tip of her slender finger. Her pale hand, delicate and sure, pointed upward. That single index finger aimed straight at… me.

Our eyes met. No telepathy needed—I could hear her voice clear as day in my head. “Add Kuroki-kun to the beach group on LIME too, okay? The one I want to invite is him.”

I wanted to quip, Missy, you shouldn’t point at people like that, but my composure was long gone.

In the dead silence, the so-called monkey broke the tension. “Eh? Why?”

That’s my line, Sawatari. Don’t steal it.

＊

After the whirlwind of that lunch break, the school day finally wound down. Toudou and I settled into our usual spot, desks drawn close, chairs pulled together, facing each other. No games today—just the two of us, dissecting the chaos from earlier.

“What was that all about, Toudou?” I asked, my voice still tinged with disbelief.

She gave me a sheepish look, her expression caught between guilt and innocence, as if she hadn’t meant to cause a stir but knew she had. “It was just… the vibe, you know? Kuroki-kun, you’ve been upset since lunch, haven’t you?”

“I’m not upset,” I said, though the shock still lingered in my chest. “I was just… shocked.”

And it wasn’t just me—everyone around us had been floored by the scene.

Her face softened, a relieved smile breaking through. “Then that’s good.”

“Why’s that?”

“If you’re not mad, it’s fine, right?”

“I’m not mad, okay? Just… flustered.”

Toudou’s smile widened, its warmth almost unfairly disarming, and I found myself grasping for words. Even if I had been mad, it wouldn’t have mattered much—she’d probably just shrug it off with that same effortless charm.

“It might’ve flustered you, but going to the beach with classmates our age… is that really so weird?”

Toudou Mashiro’s bright grin caught me off guard, and I coughed quietly to cover my reaction, hoping she didn’t notice. Our usual gaming spot had somehow turned into a haven for these quiet, conspiratorial talks.

“It’s not weird,” I admitted, “but it’d make anyone nervous.”

Her brow furrowed, genuine confusion in her eyes. “Nervous? We’re the same age, and it’s mostly classmates…”

A question mark might as well have been floating over her head, her tone free of any sarcasm.

“Classmates are practically strangers, Toudou. That Sawatari guy? Never spoken to him before today. I only learned his name because of this.”

“But we’re buddies, aren’t we?”

“Sure, game buddies, but…”

“Then it’s not all strangers!” she said brightly. “Even at the beach, we could just hang out and play, right?”

My heart gave a little lurch. God, I’m so easy, I thought, feeling my defenses crumble. I decided to drop the topic for now—I’d sort out my tangled thoughts later, alone.

“Alright, let’s flip it, are you okay with it, Toudou?”

Her eyes widened. “Okay with what? You don’t mean, like, swimsuit stuff, do you…?” She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself as if shielding something precious. “Whoa, do guys just ask girls about that?!”

“No, no, definitely not! I mean, as a celebrity, are you fine with hitting a crowded beach? Won’t it cause a commotion or something?”

Toudou let out a dramatic sigh, as if my question was absurd. “Kuroki-kun, I’m not that famous, okay? I was in one commercial. One. Sure, I do some magazine modeling now and then, but it’s not like I’m exclusive. It’s not even every month. People don’t notice me as much as you think. And on SNS? Half my followers probably don’t even care.”

I nearly argued back—One commercial? That’s huge. Magazine modeling? That’s fame. And her follower count had to be insane. But the bored look on her face stopped me. She propped her elbow on the desk, resting her chin in her palm, looking thoroughly unimpressed with her own status.

“Somehow, everyone misunderstands me,” Toudou muttered, her voice tinged with exasperation. “I’m not some big shot. Just an ordinary high schooler.”

From outside, the lively shouts of club activities mingled with the chatter of students heading home, a familiar hum of everyday life. Toudou was part of it, woven into the same ordinary fabric. Even world-famous celebrities are just people, I reminded myself. It’s the people around her who put her on a pedestal, not Toudou herself. Like a landscape painting, it all depends on where you choose to focus. Human relationships aren’t math equations with fixed answers.

The chime would ring soon, signaling the end of the day. Here at school, Toudou was just another high schooler. The girl I met on the stair landing? Just my game buddy. My racing thoughts began to settle, grounding me in the moment.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said, my voice steadying. “When you’re here, you’re just a game-loving girl. To me, Toudou, you’re part of my everyday life—not some untouchable star from another world.”

Who’d called her an unattainable flower on a high peak? Me, that’s who. And it was up to me to break that illusion.

Toudou’s eyes widened for a split second before her face lit up, her smile brighter than ever. “Exactly! In the eyes of the world, I’m just your typical game-loving JK! You get it, Kuroki-kuuun!”

Her sudden burst of energy caught me off guard as she leaned forward, lightly smacking my arm with playful enthusiasm. “I’ll let you in on the Toudou family rules, Kuroki-kun.”

“I already know one, ‘No games,’ right?”

“Ugh, it makes me wanna cry…” she groaned, her expression comically pained.

“I couldn’t live like that. To me, it’d be like losing oxygen.”

“Anyway, if you came over to my room to hang out, Kuroki-kun, you would just… die?” she teased, her tone carrying a mischievous edge.

Scary!? Did she just drop a super terrifying bomb?! My mind reeled for a moment before I caught myself. “…What’s the second rule?”

Toudou held up two fingers, her grin unwavering. “If you get good test scores, you get permission for all sorts of things that are normally off-limits. Except for games, though.”

“Tests, huh…” I muttered, the word leaving a sour taste. As a student, there was no escaping them. Midterms had just wrapped up before summer break, and we were still waiting for the answer sheets to be returned. Scores were still a mystery.

“How about you, Toudou? How’s your test scores?” I asked, already feeling like an idiot for it. The ash-blonde beauty in front of me might look like just a gyaru at first glance, but she was a sharp, intellectual one. Our school, a private institution with a high deviation value, gave students plenty of freedom—wild outfits and all—but that came with high academic expectations. The special advanced classes were intense, or so I’d heard. My class was general studies, but even there, Toudou consistently ranked near the top in grade-wide tests. Honestly, all the gyarus hanging out behind me were brainy.

But to my surprise, Toudou’s face clouded with unease, her usual confidence faltering.

“This time, I’m not so sure,” Toudou said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “It might be… a bit rough.”

I’d expected her to tease me with her usual confidence, so I kept my expression neutral. “Even though ‘Toudou Mashiro’ is always near the top of the rankings?”

“You pay close attention, huh?”

“…You stand out, Toudou Mashiro-sama.”

“I haven’t seen the name ‘Kuroki You’ up there, though,” she said, her grin widening. Was mocking me cheering her up?

“My name doesn’t exactly shine.”

“Oh?” Grr. That smug face is annoying. Even if my name did stand out, my scores were nothing to brag out.

“I do get… average scores.”

“Oho!”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not!” she insisted, her voice carrying a hint of genuine admiration. “Seriously, how do you even study while gaming so much?”

Her words caught me off guard, like she was impressed by something she couldn’t quite pull off herself. I narrowed my eyes, a sudden suspicion creeping in. “Wait… you’re not slacking on studying because of gaming, are you, Toudou?”

The idea seemed absurd—she was Toudou Mashiro—but something about her earlier unease made me wary.

“I’m studying properly!” she blurted, her cheeks flushing as she waved her hands defensively. Her flustered reaction only deepened my doubts.

“Why are you panicking?”

“It’s not like that!” she said, her voice rising. “It’s just… sometimes I space out a lot, and I can’t really focus. My efficiency’s kinda bad…”

Toudou’s fingers fidgeted with the ends of her hair, twirling the strands nervously. It sounded like an excuse, and I wasn’t entirely buying it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She huffed, clearly irritated. “Like, when I’m studying, I start thinking about gaming with you, Kuroki-kun, and my hands just… stop. You know how it is. You get caught up thinking about the game and can’t concentrate.”

“Ah, I see…” I nodded slowly, understanding the feeling. Except for me, it wasn’t the game that distracted me—it was Toudou herself. Her smile, our banter, the way she’d lean in during our talks… it’d make me want to yell, Ugh, did I screw up somehow?! Our reasons weren’t quite the same.

For Toudou, it means she’s too into the games, right…?

“You get it too, right, Kuroki-kun?!” Toudou leaned forward, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the desk creak softly. “You do! Don’t even try to deny it!”

I glanced away, feeling heat creep up my neck. We shared the distraction, sure, but for different reasons. I could dodge with an excuse, but words wouldn’t come. “Kinda yes… kinda no,” I mumbled.

“Which is it? No right to stay silent. Looking down won’t save you.”

Toudou leaned even further forward. That’s when I noticed.

Our school’s art department meant lax uniform rules—within reason, anything went. Ties or ribbons for girls, swapped out daily based on mood. Today, Toudou wore a tie, its knot loosely tied, dangling by gravity’s whim.

Only one button of her shirt was undone, so her chest should’ve been covered, but the fabric strained slightly, pushed from within by a subtle curve. The taut material between the buttons formed small gaps, hinting at what lay beneath.

“Hey, why’re you dodging?” Toudou’s voice cut through, her misunderstanding making my cheeks burn. My awkward posture didn’t help, twisted as I was to avoid her gaze.

“I’m not dodging.”

“You’re totally averting your eyes.”

“No, it’s just—” I faltered, the conversation spiraling out of control. Bracing myself, I straightened up, forcing my gaze upward. Toudou’s face was right there, closer than I’d expected, her breath almost audible in the quiet.

I held my breath—deliberately, not just some figure of speech.

“!?” Toudou’s eyes widened, clearly caught off guard.

Just centimeters away, her face filled my vision, breathtakingly beautiful. Toudou Mashiro, up close, was overwhelming.

Her eyes, dark at a glance, hid a depth I knew well—a clear, refreshing blue, like the sky on a perfect day. My heart thudded, pulling me back to that moment at the café when I’d first been captivated by her. I wanted to see that color again, just once more.

“Uh, um, Kuroki-kun…?”

She pulled back first, and I followed, snapping out of my daze. “Sorry, for looking up so suddenly…”

“No, no, I’m sorry too,” she said quickly, clearing her throat with an exaggerated cough to reset the mood. “Anyway, that’s how it is. You’re coming to the beach, Kuroki-kun. So, um, make sure you prepare a swimsuit and stuff, okay?”

Her mumbling, the way her lips moved, felt oddly relatable, like she was just as thrown as I was.

“Yeah, got it. I’ll prepare… a swimsuit…?” The words sank in, and my mind screeched to a halt.

Huh? Wait a second…

That’s when I finally realized.

“Come to think of it,” I said slowly, “the only swimsuit I have might be… the one from school.”

Toudou’s mouth dropped open, her surprise impossible to miss.

＊

Toudou processed my confession about only owning the school swimsuit in mere seconds, her expression shifting to one of amused acceptance. “Well, if it’s you, Kuroki-kun, that makes sense.”

“Unfortunately, yeah. Your guess is spot on…”

Toudou’s soft chuckle lightened the air, and I felt a small spark of pride for easing the tension, even if I was still swimsuit-less. Her wry smile seemed to see straight through me, reading every flicker of emotion.

“In that case, wanna go buy one?”

“Like, right now…?”

Popular kids are on another level.

“Not right this second, obviously.”

“Right…”

“I’ve got prep to do too.”

“Huh? You’re planning to come with me?”

“Huh? You don’t want me to?”

“It’d feel like a parent-teacher observation day or something, which sounds super awkward…”

Her laughter rang out, bright and unrestrained. “Your sense of humor is way too unique.”

She didn’t deny it—she was definitely planning to come along.

“Going swimsuit shopping with Toudou…? And not in uniforms, but deliberately in casual clothes…?”

Wouldn’t the world call that a date? Or maybe not. Wait, no, they would. My thoughts spiraled, an angel and devil bickering in my head. Toudou’s brow furrowed, catching my hesitation. “You don’t like casual clothes? Don’t tell me you’re the type who only gets excited by uniforms…”

“As if I’d be that type! That’s not it—I’m just wondering why you’d go out of your way to get ready and come with me.”

“Because you seem like the type who’d grab the first thing you see, check the price, and bolt to the register without trying it on. And if a clerk came up, you’d probably run for it.”

“Guh,” I choked, unable to argue. She had me pegged.

“Then you’d pick something weird that doesn’t suit you at all,” she continued, relentless. “And at the beach, when you see the other guys looking all stylish, you’d implode thinking, ‘I’m such a loser…’ and sulk by yourself.”

“What even are you…”

“What am I? Your gaming buddy, that’s what.”

“Fair enough…” Outside of games, I didn’t stand a chance against her.

As I sat there, half in awe, half defeated, Toudou’s tone shifted, her voice tinged with a quiet melancholy. “Ahh, summer break, huh. I’m looking forward to it, but… also not really.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. “Starting to stress about exam prep already?”

For the college-bound crowd, they say ‘this summer decides everything,’ but that wasn’t me. I’d get to exam studying eventually—maybe after winter… or spring… or, okay, before next summer… Maybe there’d be a recommendation slot.

“I talked it over with my parents,” Toudou said. “I’m starting in winter this year, so summer’s clear for now.”

Her parents had decided after a discussion, huh. I couldn’t tell if they were strict or lenient. “Then why the gloom? Summer break’s paradise—playing all you want, working part-time, staying up late every night.”

Toudou’s vibe, though, was like she’d stumbled into hell. “If that’s the case, then lessons would be all-you-can-take too…”

“Lessons? Like extracurriculars? Piano or swimming or something?”

She snickered, the sound edged with mockery. “Piano and swimming? We’re not elementary schoolers. That’s kinda cute, though. Hey, Kuroki-kun, you taking any lessons? Tell your big sis all about it.”

That big-sis tone meant she was getting carried away, just like in our gaming sessions. “We’re the same age,” I pointed out.

“But I was born a few months earlier, so I’m the big sis!”

What even was that logic? Toudou dropped her playful personas, her expression turning serious. “Jokes aside, there are all sorts of lessons for my entertainment activities. I’m with a talent agency, after all.”

Celebrity, talent, influencer, whatever you called it, I’d always thought it was a world apart from mine. I pressed forward with my assumptions. “Isn’t that stuff locked into your contract? Like, lessons X times a month, do this, do that, or pay a penalty?”

Like how I could game late but couldn’t skip school—my own contract with my parents.

“Nah, it’s nothing like that. It’s pretty self-directed. Some kids just stop showing up and quit the agency. Depends on your motivation. Though, in my case, my personal drive’s only about half of it.”

Her expression darkened slightly, a shadow I didn’t like seeing. I leaned forward, my voice urgent. “Toudou, are you being forced into it even though you hate it? Like, adult circumstances or something?”

Her eyes narrowed into a half-lidded glare. “…That sounds kinda pervy. The way you said it.”

I groaned, exasperated. “What the heck are you even saying…”

Toudou flashed a bright smile, but an anger mark practically hovered over her forehead. “‘You’ is off-limits, Kuroki-kun. I’ve told you that before, right?”

Normally, I’d apologize, but if the topic changed now, the misunderstanding would stick. “Toudou-san,” I said, my voice low but firm, “maybe it sounds weird because you’re always thinking weird stuff.”

My quiet rebellion landed a critical hit. Toudou’s eyes widened, her face flushing. “Huh!? I-I’m not thinking anything like that!”

“Like what?”

“You’re the pervy one, Kuroki-kun! Meanie! Perv!” Her voice hit a high pitch, her chair clattering as she half-stood, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Her face was bright red.

“Your voice is too loud!”

I bit back the urge to tease her further with a “What’re you imagining?”—one more jab, and she might actually swing at me. So, I stayed quiet.

Seeming to sense the need for a reset, Toudou cleared her throat with a deliberate “ahem” and sank back into her chair. “Of course, there are contracts and adult stuff involved,” she said, her voice steadier now. “But lessons? Those are separate. It’s… a promise with my mom. Well, more like a compromise, I guess.”

Her expression soured, her brows knitting together as if she’d tasted something bitter. From where I sat, her world seemed dazzling, full of glamour and spotlight. But that look on her face told a different story—Toudou carried her own tangle of complications, ones I was only beginning to catch a glimpse of.