Chapter 11
Sunday morning came with cold air and quiet pathways.
ANHS always looked different on weekends.
The same elite campus that suffocated students with rankings, rumors, and polished smiles during weekdays softened under the pale morning light.
Fewer students wandered outside. The halls were quieter.
The glass corridors of the university wing reflected the sky like the school was pretending it had nothing to hide.
Kiyotaka walked beside Hashimoto near the right wing entrance, dressed in casual clothes that looked simple until someone looked twice.
Hashimoto had been talking for three minutes straight.
Kiyotaka had been listening for maybe half of it.
"Princess has been in a strangely good mood since the trial," Hashimoto said, hands behind his head as they walked. "Which sounds nice until you remember that when Princess is in a good mood, someone else usually isn't."
"Arisu seemed satisfied."
"That's a polite way to say she looked like she watched someone's life collapse in slow motion and enjoyed the music."
Kiyotaka's mouth curved faintly.
Hashimoto glanced at him and sighed. "You know, you're not helping. Princess keeps getting more interested in you, and every time she does, I feel like my lifespan loses a receipt."
"You could stop following her around."
Hashimoto laughed once. "Right. I'll just tell Princess, 'Sorry, I quit.' Then Kito can carry my funeral photo."
Kiyotaka's smile deepened slightly.
They were supposed to meet Arisu near one of the quieter lounges connected to the university-side library. Hashimoto had been sent ahead to "politely ensure Kiyotaka arrived," which really meant Arisu wanted someone watching him until he entered her territory.
It was a very Arisu way of pretending not to be impatient.
Kiyotaka was about to answer when his gaze drifted past Hashimoto's shoulder.
There was a tree near the right wing entrance, far enough from the main path that most students ignored it unless they wanted to disappear for a while. Its branches moved softly in the cold breeze, scattering thin shadows over the ground.
Someone sat beneath it.
Maya Satō.
She was curled slightly forward, knees drawn close, one hand pressed against her face as she tried to hide the fact that she was crying. Her shoulders trembled once, then stilled, like she had heard the sound of her own sadness and felt embarrassed by it.
Kiyotaka stopped walking.
Hashimoto took two more steps before noticing.
"What?"
Kiyotaka didn't answer immediately.
Maya had not seen them yet.
Her phone lay beside her on the grass, screen dark. She looked smaller than usual without her bright social energy, without Kei and Chiaki nearby, without the cheerful romantic sparkle she usually carried around like perfume.
Kiyotaka had heard enough from Class D whispers to understand the outline.
Haruto Kisaragi had left the classroom yesterday after Maya confronted him about a photo on his phone. A girl. An explanation too smooth. A fight too public. Haruto leaving too calmly, as if Maya's hurt was an inconvenience rather than something he had helped create.
The Celebrity Rookie had smiled for audiences.
Apparently, he did not know what to do when someone cried for real.
Hashimoto followed Kiyotaka's gaze.
His expression changed.
"Ah."
Kiyotaka took out his phone.
"Tell Arisu we'll reschedule."
Hashimoto's face immediately collapsed into theatrical despair.
"No. No, no, no. You tell her."
Kiyotaka looked at him.
Hashimoto clasped his hands together like a man begging at a shrine.
"Please. I like being alive. If I call Princess and say, 'Kiyotaka got distracted by a crying girl under a tree,' she'll tell me to drag you back. And if I say I can't, she'll ask why. And if I mention the alley video punch, she'll laugh and still order me to try."
"She won't order that."
Hashimoto stared at him.
Kiyotaka paused.
"She might."
"She absolutely will."
Kiyotaka sighed softly and called Arisu himself.
Hashimoto stood beside him looking relieved and terrified at the same time.
The call connected almost instantly.
"Kiyotaka-kun," Arisu's voice came through, smooth and pleased. "You are early. How unexpected."
"I need to reschedule."
Silence followed.
Not long, but sharp enough that Hashimoto physically leaned away from the phone.
Arisu's voice returned, softer now.
"Do you?"
"Yes."
"May I ask what stole you from me?"
Kiyotaka looked toward Maya again.
"A classmate needs help."
Hashimoto quietly mouthed, Bad wording.
Arisu hummed, and the sound carried a smile with teeth.
"How noble."
"It's inconvenient timing."
"For whom?"
"For your mood."
Hashimoto covered his mouth to stop himself from making a sound.
There was another pause.
Then Arisu laughed softly.
"Fufufu... You have learned to negotiate with dangerous women rather quickly."
"I'll bring sweets next time."
That changed the temperature of the call.
"From the university-side patisserie?"
"Yes."
"The seasonal ones?"
"If they're available."
Arisu sounded satisfied enough to be suspicious. "Very well. I will accept your apology in the form of sweets and proper attention next time."
"Thank you, Arisu."
"One more thing, Kiyotaka-kun."
"Yes?"
"Do not let that classmate cry too prettily. I dislike unexpected rivals."
Kiyotaka glanced at Maya, who was still trying to wipe her face without anyone noticing.
"She's not thinking about rivalry."
"No. Girls rarely are when they begin becoming dangerous."
The call ended.
Hashimoto exhaled as if he had survived a gas leak.
"You bribed Princess with sweets. That was either genius or suicidal."
"She accepted."
"That doesn't mean you're safe."
Kiyotaka started toward the vending machines.
Hashimoto watched him go. "Where are you going now?"
"To buy juice."
Hashimoto looked from Kiyotaka to Maya and back again.
Then he rubbed his face.
"Right. Of course. Dark transfer student rescue route. I'll just tell Princess you're doing charity work with dangerous facial expressions."
Kiyotaka returned a minute later with two juice boxes.
Hashimoto gave him a lazy wave and started walking toward the lounge, probably to report the reschedule before Arisu invented three new ways to blame him for it.
Kiyotaka crossed the grass toward the tree.
Maya noticed him only when his shadow touched the edge of her shoes.
Her head snapped up.
Her eyes widened.
"K-Kiyotaka-kun?"
She turned away immediately, wiping her face with both hands.
"Sorry, I'm not... I'm not crying. I mean, I was just..."
Kiyotaka sat on the other side of the tree, leaning his back against the trunk without looking directly at her.
"You don't need to explain."
Maya froze.
He placed one juice box near her side of the tree and kept the other for himself.
The straw pierced the top of his own with a small sound.
For a while, he said nothing.
The silence stretched between them, but it was not cruel. It did not demand that Maya fix her face, or explain her tears, or pretend she had only gotten dust in her eyes.
That was why, after several minutes, Maya slowly reached for the juice box.
Her fingers hesitated before touching it.
Then she picked it up.
"...Why are you here?" she asked quietly.
Kiyotaka looked forward at the empty path.
"I wanted shade."
"It's cold."
"Cold shade."
Maya let out a weak sound that almost became a laugh.
He continued, voice calm and lightly amused.
"I was also planning to cry here, but you took the spot first."
Maya blinked.
Then, despite her red eyes and trembling lips, she laughed.
It was small and broken, but real enough to surprise her.
"You? Cry?"
"I had a schedule."
"That's such a weird joke."
"I'm still practicing weekend humor."
Maya wiped at her cheek again, but this time she was smiling faintly.
"Sorry. I didn't know this was your crying tree."
"It wasn't officially registered."
"Then it's mine now."
Kiyotaka turned his head slightly, his smile faint.
"You're stealing from a late-enrollment student?"
"You said it wasn't registered."
"Legal loophole."
Maya hugged the juice box lightly against her lap and looked down.
The wind moved through the tree above them. Somewhere far away, students laughed near the mall entrance. The campus kept going, indifferent and bright, while Maya sat under the tree trying to put herself back together without making noise.
Kiyotaka did not force the subject.
Instead, he asked, "Did you understand yesterday's history lecture?"
Maya looked confused by the sudden topic.
"What?"
"The part about postwar economic reconstruction. Chabashira gave us a reading packet."
She sniffled, then stared at him like he had just asked for battle strategy during a funeral.
"You're asking me about class right now?"
"You looked like you needed an easier enemy."
That caught her off guard.
Then she smiled a little more.
"I understood some of it. The chart was awful though."
"The chart looked like it was created by someone who hates students."
"Right?" Maya turned slightly, still on the other side of the trunk. "And the teacher said it was simple. That's always a lie."
"Teachers use 'simple' when they want us to suffer quietly."
Maya laughed again.
This time, it sounded less broken.
They talked like that for a while, through the tree between them.
Random things. Lecture packets. The new cafeteria special that looked better in the poster than on the tray.
Whether the convenience store pudding was worth the points.
Maya slowly answered more. Her voice steadied. Her shoulders stopped trembling.
Then the silence returned.
This time, Maya was the one who filled it.
"...Haruto had a picture of a girl on his phone."
Kiyotaka stayed quiet.
Maya's fingers tightened around the juice box.
"He said she was only a friend. Maybe she is. Maybe I overreacted." Her voice cracked, and she hated that it did. "But when I asked, he looked so annoyed. Like I was embarrassing him."
The tree leaves shifted above them.
Maya swallowed.
"And I was loud. I know I was. I got upset in front of everyone, and he just... left. He didn't even try to talk to me properly."
Kiyotaka did not insult Haruto.
He did not comfort her with easy words either.
That made it easier for Maya to continue.
"I know people think I'm silly. Like I'm always chasing romance because I like cute things and dates and that kind of stuff. But I don't need someone to be perfect. I just..."
Her voice softened.
"I just wanted him to care that I was hurt."
Kiyotaka looked at the juice box in his hand.
Maya let out a shaky breath.
"Sorry. That was heavy."
"No."
She waited.
He did not add anything else.
For some reason, that helped more than a long speech would have.
After a while, Kiyotaka stood.
Maya looked up from the other side of the tree.
"Where are you going?"
"The arcade."
She blinked.
"Right now?"
"Yes."
"You were listening to me cry and now you want to play games?"
"I listened first."
"That's not the point."
He looked down at her, the playful smile returning.
"You can stay under my stolen tree if you want."
Maya stared at him.
Then she stood, brushing grass from her skirt.
"It's my tree now."
"Then you can leave it unattended."
"What if someone else cries there?"
"They'll need permission from the current owner."
Maya laughed despite herself.
"Fine. I'm going with you."
The arcade was warmer, louder, and full of enough blinking lights to bully sadness out of the room by force.
Maya looked hesitant at first, still carrying the fragile embarrassment of someone who had cried too recently. Kiyotaka did not point it out. He simply handed her a game card and walked toward the racing simulators.
"You play racing games?" she asked.
"No."
"Then why start there?"
"Crashing digitally is cheaper."
Maya gave him a look.
Five minutes later, she was laughing so hard she nearly missed a turn.
Kiyotaka drove like someone who understood physics too well but arcade controls too little. He corrected too precisely, overcompensated once, and sent his car bouncing off a barrier with elegant disaster.
Maya leaned over her steering wheel, laughter spilling out of her.
"You're terrible!"
"I'm gathering data."
"You're in last place!"
"Bad data is still data."
She beat him by a wide margin and looked absurdly proud of it.
Kiyotaka glanced at the rankings.
"You're enjoying this."
"I crushed you."
"That seems important to you."
"It is now."
They moved to a shooting game next.
Maya expected him to be bad again.
He was not.
The first round began, and Kiyotaka's entire posture shifted. No wasted movement, no panic, no dramatic reactions. Targets appeared and disappeared almost instantly. Maya stared at the screen as his score climbed.
"That's unfair."
"You chose racing."
"You pretended to be bad at games."
"I was bad at that one."
"You're so annoying."
"Your score is improving."
"My anger is improving."
He smiled.
"Useful."
The dance machine was Maya's revenge.
Kiyotaka stood on the platform, studying the arrows like they were a special exam with terrible music.
Maya crossed her arms, grinning.
"Come on, Kiyotaka-kun. Gather data."
He looked at her.
"You're enjoying this too much."
"Yes."
The song started.
Kiyotaka did not fail.
That was the problem.
He was not flashy, but once he understood the rhythm, his body adapted with irritating speed. Maya still danced better, partly because she was used to this kind of game and partly because she looked much happier doing it.
By the end, she was breathless and smiling.
Really smiling.
Kiyotaka looked at her score.
"You won again."
Maya tilted her chin up.
"Obviously."
"Should I congratulate the owner of the crying tree?"
She pouted.
"Don't call it that in public."
"You named it by occupation."
"I did not."
"You claimed it while crying under it."
"That's not a legal naming process."
"Legal loophole."
Maya groaned, but she was laughing again.
They wandered toward the claw machines next.
That was when Maya's eyes caught on a plush inside one of them.
A penguin.
Not a majestic penguin. Not even particularly cute in a normal way. It had round suspicious eyes, tiny flippers, and a face that looked like it had witnessed cafeteria food and never recovered.
Kiyotaka followed her gaze.
"That one?"
Maya blinked and quickly looked away.
"I didn't say anything."
"You stared at it."
"It stared back."
"That sounds like fate."
"It looks stupid."
"You smiled at it."
Maya crossed her arms.
"I smiled because it looks stupid."
Kiyotaka stepped toward the machine.
"How hard can this be?"
Maya's grin returned instantly.
"Oh, you're going to regret saying that."
He inserted points and moved the claw carefully.
Too carefully.
The claw dropped, grabbed the penguin by the side, lifted it three centimeters, and let it fall face-first into a pile of plush seals.
Maya burst out laughing.
"That was awful!"
"The claw lacks commitment."
"You missed!"
"It betrayed me."
"You and your betrayal theme."
Kiyotaka glanced at her.
"You're laughing."
Maya's laughter softened, but it stayed.
"Because you looked so serious."
"I was serious."
"That makes it funnier."
He tried again.
This time, his eyes narrowed slightly, not with frustration, but focus. The claw shifted, stopped, dropped, and caught the penguin by its round little head with horrifying precision.
Maya held her breath.
The claw lifted.
The penguin wobbled.
It reached the chute and fell in with a soft thump.
Maya stared.
"No way."
Kiyotaka took the plush out and held it up.
The penguin looked offended by existence.
Maya reached for it.
Kiyotaka lifted it above her head.
She stopped.
Her eyes widened.
"Kiyotaka-kun."
"Yes?"
"Give it."
He looked down at her, his height making the gesture unfair.
"You laughed at my first attempt."
"Because you failed."
"That caused emotional damage."
"You're lying."
"Probably."
Maya stretched up on her toes.
He lifted it slightly higher.
She pouted.
"You're mean."
"You need to promise something first."
Her hands dropped to her sides.
"What?"
His playful smile softened, but his eyes became serious enough that Maya's chest tightened.
"Don't cry under that tree like earlier again."
Maya's expression faltered.
Before the sadness could return fully, Kiyotaka leaned a little closer, still holding the penguin just out of reach.
"That's my crying tree. If you want to cry, find a new one."
Maya stared at him.
For a second, she looked like she might laugh.
For another, like she might cry again.
Then she did both badly enough to make it look like a hiccup.
"That's so stupid."
"I'm serious."
"You are not."
"I am very protective of imaginary property."
Her smile trembled.
Kiyotaka lowered the plush, but instead of simply handing it to her, he gently pressed it against her chest. When she grabbed it, he bent closer to her ear.
His voice lowered.
"If he looks happy with other girls, don't waste yourself crying under trees. Find your own happiness."
Maya froze.
The arcade noise blurred around her.
Kiyotaka leaned back and lightly pinched her nose.
"Preferably somewhere less cold."
Maya made a small embarrassed sound, clutching the penguin with both hands.
Her face warmed.
Not the shallow blush she got from teasing or romantic daydreams.
This felt different.
Deeper. Softer. More frightening.
Haruto had become her first big romance because he looked like the kind of boy girls were supposed to like. Charming. Popular. Bright. A Crown Hearts member with a celebrity smile and the whole school's attention near him.
They had started dating, and somehow, Maya had spent more time hoping he would care than actually feeling cared for.
He had never given her something silly just because she looked at it.
Not that she needed presents.
That wasn't the point.
She wanted to feel remembered.
Seen without asking.
Kiyotaka had noticed the plush.
He had noticed her tears.
He had noticed the exact moment silence became too heavy and turned it into a joke about a crying tree.
Maya looked down at the penguin.
It was ridiculous.
Ugly-cute.
Perfect.
Her fingers tightened around it.
"Kiyotaka-kun."
He looked at her.
"Thank you."
His smile returned, quiet and playful.
"For stealing my tree?"
"For the penguin."
"It looks unreliable."
Maya hugged it closer.
"It's cute."
"You said it looked stupid."
"It can be both."
"That sounds like a defense mechanism."
"You're one to talk."
He smiled a little more.
Maya noticed again how different his smile was from Haruto's.
Haruto smiled like people were watching.
Kiyotaka smiled like he had noticed something nobody else had and decided to keep it between them for a while.
Her heart moved strangely.
Too quickly.
Too warmly.
She looked away, embarrassed by how easily the day had changed.