Chapter Two: A Face That Begs to Be Teased

The moment I stepped into school, the classroom buzzed with excited chatter about Shizuku, louder than usual. She’s  .

I’d been shocked myself that morning, reading the headline plastered across nearly every online news site: [Popular Model SHIZUKU Lands First Drama Lead, Co-Starring with Inamori Reiko].

I knew she’d passed the audition, but to think she’d clinched the lead role—a genius high school girl detective solving tough cases alongside a bumbling police officer, with Inamori Reiko playing the coroner who supports them as a regular. It was almost too big to process.

“But the internet’s been brutal, hasn’t it?” one guy said, leaning back in his chair. “Stuff like, ‘A model can’t act!’ or ‘Models shouldn’t steal actors’ jobs!’ Man, those comments are harsh.”

It was heartbreaking to hear. People who knew nothing about Shizuku were tearing her apart online. My classmates weren’t much better, tossing out careless remarks just because she wasn’t here. “If her acting’s really bad, it’ll be tough to watch,” one said.

“Right? Since she’s our friend, the second-hand embarrassment would hit hard.”

“I wouldn’t even be able to look her in the eye if I saw her at school after that!”

Their words stung,  venom online. Shizuku was absent, tied up   filming, and she’d likely miss more school days from now on. Seeing her around might become rare.

“Man, she gets to skip school for this. So unfair,” someone muttered snarkily, their words piercing my chest as if aimed at me. If only I could snap back in moments like these.

I wondered how Shizuku was feeling—did the harsh words hurt her? The gray clouds blanketing the sky mirrored my gloomy mood. I want to talk to Shizuku soon. But maybe that was just my own selfishness.

“Ugh… I’m exhausted,” Shizuku groaned, slumping limply against the café sofa that night. Despite her unfamiliar workload, she’d come by, her face etched with fatigue.

I felt a pang of guilt for thinking it, but seeing her brought a wave of relief.

“Good work today,” I said, placing her coffee on the table.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Rubbing her shoulders, Shizuku sat up and took a sip. “Ha… This one cup makes all my hard work feel worth it.”

“You seem especially worn out today.”

“Yeah, well,” she sighed, her gaze distant.

“Meeting the cast, greeting the production team… there’s way more to do than I expected. The production team picked me at the audition, so they welcomed me warmly, but the cast? I couldn’t tell what they were thinking. They smiled and greeted me, but their eyes weren’t smiling, you know?”

“I see…” I murmured, unsure what to say.

“Maybe I was just nervous and imagining things,” she continued, voice softer.

“But when a model with barely any acting experience gets the lead role, I bet some people aren’t thrilled.”

She was right. Actors who’d dedicated their lives to this probably didn’t find it amusing. If I were in their shoes, I’d worry about her acting too, just like our classmates or the people online. Not out of malice, but uncertainty.

“Well, enough complaining,” Shizuku said, shaking her head. “Juntaro, there’s something I  ask you.”

“Something to ask?”

“I’ve got a swimsuit shoot coming up for summer. Which one do you prefer?” She turned her phone toward me, showing two photos of mannequins side by side. One wore a black bikini. The other… was it even a swimsuit? It looked like little more than strings.

“Y-You’re messing with me, right?” I stammered.

“Oh, caught on already?” she teased, smirking.

The adults around her would surely step in to stop it… or so   hoped, clinging to that faint reassurance.

“Tch, I thought I’d get to see your pervy side.” Shizuku’s voice carried a teasing lilt. “…So, you don’t imagine it at all?”

“…Imagine what?” I asked, wary of the trap she was setting.

“Me, wearing that swimsuit,” she said, her tone playful yet pointed.

My cheeks flared as if they’d caught fire. I quickly averted my gaze, but her soft giggles followed.

“Sorry, sorry!” she said, barely containing her laughter. “I didn’t expect you to get that flustered, Juntaro.”

“…You’re so mean,” I muttered, my face still burning.

“But you’re usually so poker-faced,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I couldn’t help but wonder what’d happen if I poked at you a little.”

“Am I really that stone-faced?” I asked, frowning. Sure, I didn’t wear my emotions on my sleeve, but still.

“Anyway, enough joking.” Shizuku’s tone shifted, growing serious. “The swimsuit shoot is real. It’s not set in stone yet, but I’ve already gotten offers. The thing is, I’m not sure what people expect from me.”

“What they expect?” I echoed, unsure where she was going with this.

“Yeah. Like, Juntaro, are you expecting something sexy from me?”

“Pfft—!” I nearly spat out my coffee, catching myself just in time. Wasting coffee  brewed for me would be unforgivable. Clamping my mouth shut, I saved the precious drink and shot her a look. “…What’s with the sudden question?”

“Oh, uh, bad phrasing,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “What I mean is, do people really want to see me in a swimsuit?”

I fell silent, my mind conjuring an image of Shizuku on a magazine cover, posed in a sleek black bikini—not those flimsy strings she’d teased about earlier, but something striking all the same. I’d be lying if I said, as a guy, I wasn’t intrigued by the idea. If Shizuku appeared on a cover like that, I’d probably be just as captivated as anyone else.

But was that really what I wanted from her?

“I think a lot of people would want to see you like that,” I said carefully. “But you don’t have to force yourself, you know?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Trying to do too many things at once probably isn’t good.”

Shizuku already had her hands full with modeling gigs and an upcoming drama shoot. A swimsuit photoshoot would undoubtedly cause a stir, piling even more work onto her plate. Her fans would eat it up, no question, but she was already exhausted. Taking on more now seemed like a recipe for trouble. It was just my amateur take, but—

“That’s a totally reasonable take,” Shizuku said, nodding. “I can’t even argue with it. Deep down, I’d been dreading the idea of accepting. Gravure shoots always made me uneasy, and right now, I wanted to pour everything into the drama. When I commit to something, I give it my all. But I was on the verge of getting swept up and agreeing again  as usual.

Shizuku paused, her silence heavy with thought.

At last, she spoke with newfound resolve. “But now, I’ve made up my mind to say no. If I tell my agency I’m focusing on the drama, they’ll likely support me. I’ll probably get more offers like this in the future, but I’ll turn them down properly. And it’s all thanks to you being honest with me, Juntaro.”

A radiant smile lit up Shizuku’s face as she spoke, her eyes bright with gratitude. Relief washed over me, knowing I’d been of some help. A flicker of worry lingered—had I said something reckless? But seeing Shizuku’s satisfaction, that concern faded. Her contentment was what mattered most.

“Oh, but if you want to see, Juntaro, I’ll show you anytime.” Her tone turned playful, a teasing glint in her eyes. “My swimsuit look, I mean.”

I froze, words escaping me under the weight of her mischievous grin.

Seeing me freeze, Shizuku burst into laughter again, her voice bright and unrestrained.

“Oh, by the way, can I order that Neapolitan you mentioned earlier?”

“Huh? Oh, sure,” I replied, caught off guard.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, eyes gleaming. “I’m starving.”

“It’ll take a bit to make. That okay?”

“Yup, no problem.”

I stood and made my way to the counter. Utahara-san, busy brewing coffee for another customer, tilted her head as I approached.

“What’s up? More coffee?” she asked.

“No, Shizuku ordered a Neapolitan, so I’m here to make it.”

“Oh, got it.”

I slipped into the small kitchen behind the counter and got to work. Chopping bell peppers and sausages with quick, practiced motions, I tossed them into a frying pan, where they sizzled softly. Then came the pasta, boiled just a touch  than the package suggested—enough to give the noodles that perfect chewy texture, letting the sauce cling to every strand. The base was ketchup, but I wasn’t about to let the flavor fall flat. A dollop of tomato paste, a pinch of consommé, freshly grated garlic—not the tube stuff—and a hint of chili flakes joined the mix, adding depth and a subtle kick. The extra effort was worth it.

“Here we go…” I muttered, tossing the pan to meld the flavors into the pasta. The kitchen filled with a savory aroma as I fried it until everything was coated evenly, tweaking it with a final dash of salt and pepper. A quick taste confirmed it was just right. I plated the Neapolitan and carried it to Shizuku.

“Sorry for the wait. Here’s your Neapolitan.”

“Ooh!” Her face lit up as I set the plate down.

“There’s grated cheese too, if you want it.”

“Thanks! Time to dig in!”

Shizuku twirled a generous forkful of pasta and popped it into her mouth with surprising boldness. Her eyes sparkled almost instantly. “So good…” she murmured, diving into the dish with unbridled enthusiasm. Seeing her enjoy it so much warmed me inside.

About halfway through, she sprinkled on some grated cheese. “Ahh… This is the taste of happiness,” she sighed, her pace quickening as she polished off the plate in no time.

“Phew, that was delicious. Thanks for the meal.”

“My pleasure. Was it enough?”

“Honestly, I could’ve eaten more,” she admitted, leaning back, “but I’ve gotta watch my figure. I try not to eat too much at night.”

“

“They say modeling starts with what you eat,” she said, shrugging. “Something I heard from a senior model.”

It made sense—models had to be strict about their diet—but I couldn’t help wondering if her body was holding up under the strain. Shizuku was working so hard; part of me wanted to tell her to eat more, to take care of herself. But saying that might undermine her efforts, so I held my tongue. I couldn’t speak carelessly.

“I really want to stuff myself with cake, though,” she groaned, flailing her arms and legs like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Ugh, I wish I had a body that didn’t gain weight no matter how much I ate.”

I chuckled. “Haha, I kinda get that. When I’m practicing coffee brewing, I get this intense craving for sweets. Even in the middle of the night.”

“Ugh, I totally get that!” she exclaimed. “Late-night sweets are the ultimate diet killer!”

I wasn’t sure if our cravings were quite the same, but Shizuku’s enthusiasm made it feel like we were on the same wavelength. “Still, it’s amazing how you balance school and work with all this going on,” I said, genuinely impressed.

Shizuku’s life was so hectic, it wouldn’t be surprising if she considered dropping out to focus on modeling. With her success, she could probably make a living however she wanted.

she replied, her tone light but sincere. “I know I’m complaining a lot, but school’s fun, and work feels rewarding. It’s like… ‘I hate it, but I love it,’ you know?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shizuku laughed, undeterred, and continued. “Honestly, I don’t have the guts to go all-in on modeling just yet. This job isn’t something you can do forever, you know?” Her joking tone carried a grounded wisdom, a rare clarity for someone our age.

“…You’re really something, Shizuku,” I said, unable to hide my admiration. Not many people our age could think so level-headedly, balancing such a broad perspective. I was too clumsy for that—I’d probably just pick one path and stick to it. Her approach wasn’t something I could easily emulate.

“Hehe, getting praised by you, Juntaro, really lifts my spirits,” she said, her smile brightening.

“If it cheers you up, I’ll praise you as much as you want,” I replied, grinning. “I’ll praise you enough for everyone else, for a lifetime.”

“!?”

A sudden silence hung between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, Shizuku glanced at her phone. “Oh no, it’s already this late!”

I checked the café’s clock—nearly nine p.m. Time to start closing up.

“Alright, see you, Juntaro! I’ll be at school tomorrow!” Shizuku called out, already halfway to the door after settling her bill.

“Y-Yeah… see you,” I managed, still caught off guard by her rushed exit. She didn’t need to bolt like that—what had her so flustered?

“Heh heh, you’re quite the charmer, Jun-kun,” Utahara-san teased, her grin mischievous.

“Huh?”

For some reason, she was looking at me like I’d done something noteworthy. Was I somehow the reason Shizuku had left in such a hurry?

Hmm, I don’t get it.

Using closing time as an excuse, I slipped out of Café Mellow, my heart still fluttering from the moment Juntaro’s gentle praise had nearly brought me to tears. How did he always know exactly what to say, the words I longed to hear? There’s no way he’s bad with words—that had to be a lie.

“Phew… Calm down,” I muttered to myself. “Juntaro’s just being sincere, that’s all.” His support came from a place of honest feeling, and misinterpreting it would be unfair to him. But… ‘a lifetime,’ really? Every time those words echoed in my mind, my heart rang like a bell, racing with a warmth I couldn’t ignore. Even as I scolded myself not to misunderstand, my thoughts swirled with the kindness in his voice.

“A life with Juntaro by my side…” Would he brew me coffee every morning, the rich aroma filling our home? If I kept modeling, could he be a stay-at-home husband, always there with that gentle smile? Yet, the thought of him working at the café, apron tied neatly, was just as charming.

“Ugh, what am I even thinking?!” I slapped my cheeks, trying to shake off the daydreams. “Starting tomorrow, I’ll try even harder.” From now on, I’d push myself to earn Juntaro’s praise, to keep that warmth close────.