Chapter 5
By seven in the evening, ANHS looked less like a school and more like a small country pretending to be peaceful.
The campus mall glowed under warm lights, polished floors reflecting students as they drifted between shops, cafés, convenience stores, and restaurants built for people who were not allowed to leave school grounds but still wanted to feel like they could.
Third-years moved through the place with the lazy confidence of seniors.
University students occupied the better seats in the cafés, talking softly like they owned the future already.
Kiyotaka walked alone through the mall entrance.
He had no dramatic reason to be there.
No faction meeting.
No Crown Hearts incident.
No hidden White Room instruction waiting behind a vending machine.
His dorm room was simply empty.
That was all.
A cheap knife, one pan, a cutting board, a bowl, a plate, chopsticks, a mug, maybe a sponge if the price didn't look personally offensive.
That would be enough.
Luxury was unnecessary. Comfort was optional. Function mattered more.
Still, the moment he entered the household goods store, a few students near the entrance noticed him. They tried to pretend they didn't, which made them worse at hiding it.
"That's him..."
"The Class D transfer?"
"The alley video one?"
"Don't say that so loud."
Kiyotaka ignored the whispers and picked up a shopping basket.
He stopped in front of the kitchen knives and examined the display. The cheapest one looked like it would break if asked to cut anything more ambitious than tofu. The second cheapest looked slightly less tragic.
He took it.
A store clerk nearby watched him choose the knife, then looked at his face, then quickly looked away.
Kiyotaka smiled faintly.
'Relax. If I wanted trouble, I wouldn't start with discounted kitchenware.'
He moved toward the dishes section.
That was when he saw her.
Honami stood outside the shop near the glass railing, alone beneath the mall lights. Her phone was in both hands. Her eyes were lowered, her shoulders held too straight, her smile missing from her face like someone had stolen it and left the shape behind.
That was strange.
Honami did not need a crowd to look warm. Even when she stood alone, she usually carried a softness around her, something that made people feel safe approaching her.
Tonight, she looked like she had spent the whole day holding a door shut from the inside.
Her phone buzzed again.
She flinched.
Not much.
Enough.
Kiyotaka watched as her thumb hovered over the screen. She read something, then closed her eyes for a second.
She didn't cry.
Of course she didn't.
Girls like Honami learned to keep their sadness quiet because too many people depended on their smiles.
Kiyotaka stepped out of the store with the basket in hand.
"Honami."
She looked up quickly.
For one moment, her expression showed everything.
Exhaustion. Panic. Embarrassment. The instinct to hide all three.
Then she smiled.
It was almost convincing.
"Ayanokōji-kun..."
"Kiyotaka," he corrected smoothly.
Her eyes widened a little.
He tilted his head, that dangerous playfulness settling over his face like moonlight over a blade.
"I call you Honami. It seems unfair if you don't use my name."
Her smile became real for half a second, startled out of her.
"Kiyotaka-kun, then."
"Better."
She looked at the basket in his hand, clearly grateful for somewhere else to put her eyes.
"Are you shopping?"
"For my dorm."
Her gaze dropped to the lonely collection of items inside.
"A knife and one bowl?"
"I'm building a civilization slowly."
That pulled a small laugh from her.
It was soft, but it existed.
Kiyotaka's eyes stayed on her face.
"Are you busy?"
Honami blinked.
"Not really. Why?"
"I need help."
"You do?"
"I don't know which plate is least likely to betray me."
Her lips parted, then she laughed again, a little warmer this time.
"That's not usually how people describe plates."
"I have high expectations."
"For plates?"
"For loyalty."
Honami looked at him for a second, and something in her gaze flickered. The word had touched something sore.
Her phone buzzed again.
This time, Kiyotaka saw the name before she angled the screen away.
Hiro.
Honami noticed his eyes move, and her fingers tightened around the phone.
Kiyotaka did not ask.
Not yet.
Instead, he held out the basket slightly.
"Come with me."
Her face softened with confusion.
"To buy plates?"
"And other things I apparently lack the emotional maturity to choose."
Honami stared at him.
Then, slowly, she slipped her phone into her pocket.
"Fine. But if you choose something depressing, I'm replacing it."
"I'll rely on your mercy."
"That's dangerous."
He smiled.
"I know."
The way he said it made her look away first.
Honami became serious about the shopping almost immediately.
It was unexpectedly cute.
No, Kiyotaka corrected himself, not cute.
Useful.
Maybe both.
She removed the plainest plate from his basket and placed it back on the shelf.
"This one chips easily."
"You know that from experience?"
"My class used similar plates during an event. Half of them cracked."
"So plates can betray people."
"In that case, yes."
She picked a slightly better one and set it into the basket.
Kiyotaka looked at the price.
"It costs more."
"It lasts longer."
"That sounds like manipulation from the plate industry."
Honami gave him a look.
He smiled back.
For a second, she forgot to look sad.
They moved through the aisles together, the quiet hum of the mall surrounding them. Honami chose a bowl that did not look like it belonged in a hospital. Kiyotaka picked a dish rack. Honami frowned and replaced it with another.
"This one won't rust."
"Again, experience?"
"I helped with Class B's supply purchases."
"You're very domestic for a class leader."
Her cheeks colored faintly.
"That's not what that means."
"What did I mean?"
"You know what you meant."
Kiyotaka leaned slightly closer to inspect the dish rack in her hands.
"Do I?"
Honami froze for a heartbeat.
Then she pushed the dish rack into the basket a little too quickly.
"You're teasing me."
"I'm learning."
"That's worse."
Kiyotaka's smile curved, calm and wicked around the edges.
"Then teach carefully."
Honami looked away, trying to hide the small smile that escaped her.
She reached for a set of chopsticks next, but her hand paused halfway.
The shadow returned to her eyes.
Not fully. Just enough to dull the warmth.
Kiyotaka waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Then he flicked her forehead.
Lightly.
Honami jolted, hand flying to her forehead as she stared at him in disbelief.
"Kiyotaka-kun!"
"You froze."
"You flicked me."
"I fixed the problem."
"That is not how you fix sadness."
She realized what she had said right after saying it.
Her mouth closed.
The aisle became quieter.
Kiyotaka's expression did not change much, but the playfulness in his eyes softened into something more controlled.
"So it is sadness."
Honami looked down.
"I didn't mean..."
"I know."
He didn't push.
He simply took the chopsticks she had been reaching for and placed them in the basket.
"Bad choice."
She blinked.
"What?"
"The chopsticks. They look annoying to wash."
Honami stared at him for a second.
Then a breathless laugh slipped out of her, small and helpless.
"You're impossible."
"I've been called worse today."
"By who?"
"Probably the people in the comment section."
Honami covered her mouth, smiling despite herself.
The mention of school gossip should have made her more nervous. Somehow, from him, it felt like he was handing her a step away from whatever had been crushing her chest.
She chose another set of chopsticks.
"These are better."
"Because they won't betray me?"
"Because they won't annoy you."
"Thoughtful."
"It's just chopsticks."
"Sometimes that's enough."
Honami glanced at him again.
He was looking at the shelf, but his smile made it clear he knew she was watching.
Her heart gave a small, traitorous beat.
They reached the cashier with the basket finally looking like it belonged to someone who planned to live longer than three days.
Kiyotaka paid with points.
Honami watched the screen, then frowned.
"You bought only one mug."
"I only have one mouth."
"That's not the point."
"What is the point?"
"What if someone visits?"
Kiyotaka took the bag from the clerk.
"Will someone?"
Honami opened her mouth, then paused.
His gaze turned toward her, playful and dark, inviting her to step into the trap if she wanted.
Her cheeks warmed.
"I mean... generally."
"Generally," he repeated.
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Making normal conversation dangerous."
His smile deepened.
"You're the one imagining danger."
Honami looked away quickly.
"That's because you keep smiling like that."
"Like what?"
She hesitated.
Then, quietly, "Like you know I'm going to lose."
For a moment, he said nothing.
The mall noise moved around them, distant and bright.
Then Kiyotaka stepped closer, just enough that she felt the shift in space between them.
"Lose what?"
Honami's breath caught.
She didn't answer.
He let the silence sit there between them, warm and sharp, before turning away like he hadn't just made her thoughts scatter.
"Come on."
She blinked.
"Where?"
"Ice cream."
"Ice cream?"
"You said I bought only one mug. Clearly, your judgment is impaired by hunger."
Honami stared at him.
Then laughed, hand lightly touching the place he had flicked earlier.
"You're blaming my opinion on hunger?"
"I'm protecting your dignity."
"That's a terrible rescue."
"It's the one available."
She followed him anyway.
The ice cream shop was busy enough that they had to stand near the railing after ordering. Kiyotaka chose vanilla. Honami looked at his cup as if it had personally disappointed her.
"Vanilla?"
"Is that a crime?"
"You look like someone who would choose something darker."
"Dark chocolate?"
"Maybe."
"Coffee?"
"Maybe."
"Poison?"
"Kiyotaka-kun."
His smile widened.
There it was again. That little laugh she tried to hide and failed to completely suppress.
She had chosen strawberry, because apparently even sadness couldn't erase her softer habits.
Kiyotaka watched her take a small bite.
Her shoulders relaxed.
Just a little.
Her phone buzzed again.
Honami's spoon stopped.
Kiyotaka reached out and tapped the side of her cup with his spoon.
"You're melting."
She blinked.
"What?"
"Your ice cream."
"Oh."
"Not you."
Her face turned pink.
"I knew that."
"I didn't say you didn't."
"You implied it."
"I implied your ice cream has poor survival instincts."
Honami lowered her spoon, trying and failing to look stern.
"You're very strange."
"You've said that."
"I'll probably keep saying it."
"Then I'll keep giving you reasons."
The words were light, but his eyes weren't. They held her in place, calm and dangerous, as if he could see the sadness behind her smile and chose to tease around it instead of stabbing directly into it.
Honami looked down at her cup.
"Thank you."
"For insulting your ice cream?"
"For staying."
Kiyotaka's smile thinned.
Not colder. More careful.
"You looked like you needed someone annoying."
She laughed softly.
"That's your comfort style?"
"It seems to be working."
"It is," she admitted, almost too quietly.
Another message buzzed in her pocket.
She didn't reach for it.
Kiyotaka noticed.
This time, he rewarded her by saying nothing.
The crepe stand became his next decision.
Honami protested, but with less conviction than before.
"We already had ice cream."
"And now we'll compare desserts."
"That sounds unnecessary."
"Most good things are."
She looked at him.
He looked back, expression calm, smile wickedly faint.
Honami sighed.
"I'm starting to understand why people lose arguments with you."
"They think I'm arguing."
"What are you doing, then?"
"Guiding the outcome."
"That's worse."
"More honest."
She shook her head, but she was smiling again.
They ordered near the end of the line. Honami chose strawberry cream. Kiyotaka chose chocolate banana. While they waited, a few students nearby recognized them and began whispering.
"Isn't that Honami?"
"With Kiyotaka?"
"At night?"
"It's the mall, not a confession scene."
"Why does it look like one?"
Honami's smile stiffened.
Kiyotaka turned his head slightly.
The whispering stopped.
He didn't glare. That would have been too crude.
He simply looked at them with that calm, playful expression, the one that suggested he had noticed every word and was kind enough not to do anything about it yet.
The students suddenly found the menu board fascinating.
Honami exhaled.
"You don't have to scare people for me."
"I didn't."
"You looked at them."
"That isn't illegal."
"With your face, it might be."
Kiyotaka glanced at her.
Honami realized what she had said.
Her cheeks flushed.
"I didn't mean..."
"I'll accept the compliment."
"That wasn't..."
"It's too late."
She covered her face with one hand.
"You're really unfair."
The crepes arrived.
They moved away from the stand, and Honami took a careful bite of hers. Cream touched the corner of her lip.
Kiyotaka looked at it.
Honami noticed immediately.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That means something."
"You're suspicious tonight."
"Because you keep looking like you're about to say something dangerous."
Kiyotaka stepped slightly closer.
Honami froze.
His hand lifted toward her face.
Her heart stopped for one ridiculous second.
Then he took a bite from the side of her crepe.
She stared at him.
"Kiyotaka-kun!"
He chewed calmly.
"Strawberry is good."
"That was mine."
"I needed to check."
"You could have asked."
"Would you have said yes?"
Honami opened her mouth.
Closed it.
He smiled.
Her face burned.
"That's not fair."
Kiyotaka held his crepe toward her.
"Then take some."
She blinked.
"What?"
"Equal exchange."
"You're serious?"
"I stole from you honestly."
"That sentence makes no sense."
"It will after you take a bite."
Honami looked at his crepe, then at him. His smile was softer now, but still had that dangerous glint hiding beneath it. The kind that made her feel like he had placed a choice in front of her and already knew which one she would make.
Slowly, she leaned forward and took a small bite.
The chocolate was sweet.
The banana was softer than expected.
And Kiyotaka was watching her like the entire mall had gone quiet around them.
Honami stepped back quickly, face bright red.
"There. Equal."
"Not quite."
Her eyes widened.
"What do you mean?"
"You took a smaller bite."
"Kiyotaka-kun."
"I'm only observing."
"You observe too much."
"People reveal more when they think no one is watching."
The words should have sounded casual.
They didn't.
Honami's fingers tightened slightly around her crepe.
The sadness flickered again, dragged up by something deeper than dessert.
Kiyotaka saw it.
This time, he didn't flick her forehead.
He leaned closer instead, just enough that his voice lowered beneath the mall noise.
"Whatever he said to you..."
Honami's eyes widened.
Kiyotaka's gaze stayed steady.
"...you don't have to carry it tonight."
She looked at him, caught between surprise and fear.
"I didn't tell you anything."
"I know."
"Then how..."
"You were smiling like someone apologizing for being hurt."
The words landed too gently to defend against.
Honami looked away, her eyes shining faintly under the mall lights.
She still did not cry.
But the silence around her changed.
"I'm fine," she whispered.
"No."
Her gaze returned to him.
Kiyotaka's smile was gone now.
Not replaced by cruelty.
Replaced by something darker and more honest.
"You're functioning."
A tremble passed through her lips, almost a laugh and almost something else.
"That's... a mean way to say it."
"It's more accurate."
"You're not very comforting."
"I bought you ice cream."
"That doesn't erase the scary honesty."
"It was good ice cream."
She laughed.
It broke through her before she could stop it. Small at first, then warmer, more real, like a window opening in a room that had been closed all day.
Kiyotaka watched her with that faint smile returning.
There it was.
Not fixed.
Not healed.
But lighter.
Honami wiped the corner of her eye quickly, pretending it was nothing.
Kiyotaka pretended to believe her.
Then he pointed at her crepe.
"You're dripping."
She gasped and looked down.
There was nothing.
She glared at him.
He smiled.
"You're easy to redirect."
She hit his arm lightly with the back of her hand.
"That was cruel."
"That was training."
"For what?"
"Surviving me."
Honami stared at him.
Then laughed again, helpless and bright.
"I don't think anyone survives you."
His smile turned playful, almost sweet, but the danger under it remained.
"Some people enjoy trying."
Honami's breath caught.
The mall lights felt warmer.
Or maybe that was just her face.
They returned to shopping only after Honami insisted Kiyotaka couldn't keep using food as a distraction forever.
He silently bought dish soap next.
Then a proper sponge, because Honami physically removed the cheap one from his basket with the authority of a class leader protecting society from a crime.
"No."
"It's a sponge."
"It's sadness in sponge form."
"I thought you liked helping sad things."
That made her pause.
Then she looked at him, eyes narrowed.
"That was very smooth."
"I was talking about the sponge."
"You were not."
"No."
She laughed, and this time it came easier.
At some point, she slipped a small pack of tea into his basket when she thought he wasn't looking.
He had been looking.
Of course he had.
He paid for it without comment.
At the exit, Honami reached for one of the bags.
"I'll carry that."
Kiyotaka lifted it out of her reach.
"No."
"It's not heavy."
"I know."
"Then why?"
His eyes settled on her.
The playfulness softened, but did not disappear. It became something quieter, more dangerous because it sounded almost kind.
"You've carried enough today."
Honami froze.
The mall moved around them. Students passed. A café machine hissed somewhere behind them. Someone laughed near the stairs.
But for Honami, the world tightened to his voice.
She lowered her hand slowly.
"You really did notice."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
His expression darkened.
"For what?"
"I don't know."
"That's a terrible habit."
She gave a weak laugh.
"I guess it is."
He flicked her forehead again.
Honami gasped, pressing a hand to the spot.
"You did it again!"
"You apologized for nothing again."
"That doesn't mean you can flick me every time."
"Then stop apologizing for existing."
She went quiet.
The words were not loud.
They did not need to be.
Honami looked at him, and something in her chest twisted painfully. All day, she had been scolded for not giving enough. Not helping enough. Not sending enough points. Not sacrificing quietly enough.
And here Kiyotaka was, holding cheap dorm supplies, telling her not to apologize for taking up space.
Her smile trembled.
This one was not fake.
"Okay," she whispered.
Kiyotaka looked satisfied.
"Good."
She rubbed her forehead, trying to hide the warmth in her eyes.
"You're really mean."
"I bought you crepe."
"You stole my crepe."
"I shared mine."
"You forced an equal exchange."
"Romance requires balance."
Honami stared at him.
Her blush came back so fast he almost looked amused.
"Kiyotaka-kun..."
"What?"
"You can't just say things like that."
"Why?"
"Because..."
She struggled.
He waited, smiling faintly.
"Because it sounds like you mean it."
His smile changed.
Only slightly.
The dangerous edge returned, dark and handsome and entirely too calm.
"Maybe I like making people wonder."
Honami looked away first.
"You really are dangerous."
"You're still here."
"That's what makes it dangerous."
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Kiyotaka shifted the bags and started walking.
"I'll take you back."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
"You always say that."
"And you always say things like I don't already understand them."
Honami sighed, but she was smiling again.
"Fine. But next time, I'm choosing the dessert."
"Next time?"
She stopped.
He looked back at her.
Her face flushed.
"I mean... if there is one."
Kiyotaka's smile became slow and playful.
"There will be."
Honami's heart forgot its schedule.
They walked back through the mall together, Kiyotaka carrying the bags, Honami walking beside him with her phone still untouched in her pocket.
It buzzed twice.
She ignored it both times.
Kiyotaka said nothing.
That was the sweetest part.
He didn't praise her like she was a child. Didn't ask questions she wasn't ready to answer. Didn't force comfort into shapes she couldn't hold.
He teased her.
Pulled her around the mall.
Stole bites from her crepe.
Flicked her forehead when she apologized for things that weren't her fault.
And somehow, by the time they reached the dorm path, the heavy feeling in her chest had loosened.
Not gone.
But loosened.
At the entrance, Honami stopped.
"Kiyotaka-kun."
He turned.
The campus lights cast soft shadows across his face, making his smile look almost gentle until his eyes reminded her that gentle was not the same thing as safe.
"Thank you for tonight."
This time, she did not sound like she was apologizing.
Kiyotaka noticed.
His smile deepened.
"You chose decent plates. I should be thanking you."
She laughed softly.
"That's all?"
"And a loyal sponge."
"You're impossible."
"You keep surviving."
Honami looked at him for a long moment.
Then, quietly, "Good night, Kiyotaka-kun."
"Good night, Honami."
Her name sounded different when he said it.
Not like a title.
Not like the class leader everyone depended on.
Just Honami.
She walked away, slower than usual, one hand lightly touching the place on her forehead where he had flicked her.
Her phone buzzed again.
She didn't take it out.
Kiyotaka watched until she disappeared inside.
Only then did his smile thin beneath the dorm lights.
'Hiro, you really are careless.'
His gaze lowered to the bags in his hand.
Cheap dishes. A plain mug. Tea Honami had pretended to sneak into the basket.
'If you keep treating her kindness like a wallet, don't be surprised when she stops opening for you.'
The playful smile returned.
Dark. Patient. Beautiful in the wrong way.
Then Kiyotaka turned toward his own dorm.
The night had been simple.
A knife.
A plate.
A sponge.
A sad girl who laughed before going home.
Nothing worth reporting to the White Room.
And yet, somewhere between the stolen crepe and the ignored messages, the first thread around Honami Ichinose had loosened.
Kiyotaka hadn't pulled hard.
He hadn't needed to.
Sometimes, all it took was giving a girl one evening where nobody asked her to give anything back.