CHAPTER 47: CHAPTER 47

The second floor of the massive Tokyo mall was abuzz with chatter, laughter, and the gentle clatter of trays being passed over food counters. Shoppers moved in currents across the brightly lit corridors, drawn by the aroma of warm pastries, fried delights, and chilled desserts. The "Sweet Treats" food court, nestled in the far corner of the floor, shimmered with pastel colors and decorative neon signs that blinked in soft, inviting rhythms.

Inside "Sweet Treats," a certain table near the window stood frozen in time. Katsuragi Kokoro sat stiffly, a small paper cup of vanilla ice cream untouched before him. Across the table, Watanabe Mika—his girlfriend—sat in regal silence. Her elegant white dress fell around her like snow, perfectly matched with her low-heeled shoes and long white socks. Her signature shoulder-length white hair, held partly back in a bun, framed her delicate face like porcelain. Her ashen gray eyes, however, were anything but soft. They were cold, emotionless, staring directly at Kokoro.

Mika had ordered a slice of cheesecake and a strawberry smoothie, both of which remained untouched as well. She didn’t speak. Neither did Kokoro. The silence between them wasn’t just awkward—it was suffocating. Kokoro’s throat was dry. His fingers fidgeted near the cup, unsure whether to reach for the spoon or just disappear under the table.

Inside, his mind was spiraling.

What do I say? If I tell the truth, that Sakura’s blackmailing me with a photo of me and Mika kissing... she might lose her mind. No—no, worse. She might ruin Sakura’s life. Mika isn’t just any girl. She’s the daughter of one of the wealthiest and most influential families in Japan. If she wants someone erased from the face of the school—hell, from the city—she probably could.

But... even though Sakura’s been threatening me with that photo, she didn’t really seem evil. She was weird, yeah. Brash. But she didn’t feel cruel. She just wanted help. Help for something a little insane, sure... but she’s not a bad person. She just... she needed someone.

He gripped the edge of the table.

Before his mind could spiral any further, Mika’s voice shattered the tension.

"I can’t believe you lied to me."

The softness in her voice only made the words sharper. Her tone wasn’t cold. It was wounded. Trembling. Like frost cracking under sunlight.

Kokoro froze.

"I heard from my subordinate," she continued, eyes never leaving his, "that you were in a maid café today. With a girl. A brown-haired girl. So unless Sayuri senpai dyed her pink hair this morning, I’m assuming that wasn’t a club meeting."

He wanted to respond. He opened his mouth. But Mika wasn’t finished.

"You know I hate lies, Kokoro." Her voice cracked slightly. "Especially from the person I love."

The words hit him like a freight train. Love. She just dropped the word so naturally, so plainly—yet it felt like a weight. A precious one.

Kokoro bowed his head deeply. His bangs shadowed his eyes.

"I’m sorry," he said softly, sincerely. "I... I lied. But I didn’t do anything bad, I swear. I was going to tell you everything, I just didn’t know how. I thought... I thought it’d just make everything worse."

He took a deep breath.

"I’ll explain. All of it. Just... please—"

"That’s good."

Her voice suddenly shifted. Cheerful. Light.

Kokoro blinked, his head jerking up in surprise.

Mika had already picked up her fork and was digging into her cheesecake with all the grace of a ravenous fox in a henhouse. Her previously cold eyes were now glimmering in satisfaction as she took a big bite.

Kokoro stared. Stunned.

"...Is that it?"

Mika tilted her head, chewing, genuinely confused. "Is what it?"

"You’re not angry anymore?"

She blinked. "Should I be?"

Kokoro’s brain was short-circuiting. "You literally looked like a demon ten minutes ago."

"Oh?" She dabbed her lips with a napkin. "So you didn’t want me to calm down?"

His eyes widened. "No! I mean—yes! I mean—of course I want you to calm down!"

Mika grinned playfully. "Then stop complaining, silly."

Kokoro let out a long, tired sigh and slumped back in his chair, finally taking a bite of his now slightly melted vanilla ice cream. The sweetness hit his tongue, but the confusion still lingered in his heart.

She’s insane. Beautiful, terrifying, and insane.

Mika sipped her smoothie with delight, kicking her feet gently under the table.

Kokoro stared at her in disbelief.

I guess... I’ll wait until she finishes her food before I explain the rest. Might as well enjoy the last few minutes of my peaceful life.

And so, the two sat in quiet once more. But this time, it wasn’t the silence of dread.

It was the calm before Kokoro dropped the truth.

____________________________________

The air in "Sweet Treats" remained heavy even after Mika polished off the last forkful of her cheesecake. Her eyes never strayed far from Kokoro, who sat rigid in his seat, the melted remains of his vanilla ice cream slowly soaking into the paper bowl. His heart had calmed somewhat—Mika’s sudden mood shift had bought him time—but the storm had only been delayed, not avoided.

She placed her fork down with a delicate clink, wiped the corners of her lips with a napkin, and then, without preamble, said, "Now that I’m full... explain."

Kokoro glanced at her. Her voice was soft, gentle even, but the undertone was unmistakably serious.

"Explain what?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Mika folded her hands on the table and tilted her head slightly, her white hair brushing her cheek. "Why were you hanging out with another girl—who’s not a family member—at a maid café?"

There was no accusation in her tone, no raised voice. Just a simple, cutting question.

Kokoro inhaled deeply and nodded. "Alright... I’ll explain. But first, let me say this: that girl is blackmailing me."

Before he could say another word, Mika’s hand suddenly slammed against the table.

"WHAT?!" she blurted, her voice cutting through the gentle hum of the food court.

Chairs scraped. Forks paused mid-air. Conversations stopped. Heads turned.

Kokoro flinched. So did Mika, who realized belatedly on what she had just done. Her face flushed pink as the entire café stared at their table like an unexpected theater act had just begun.

"Oh no..." she muttered, sinking slightly in her seat.

Kokoro, reacting swiftly, stood up and bowed toward the onlookers. "Ah—sorry, sorry, it’s nothing serious! Just a bit of a misunderstanding. Please continue eating. Really sorry about the noise."

The other customers blinked, murmured amongst themselves, then slowly returned to their meals with chuckles and quiet commentary.

"Jeez..." Kokoro whispered, scratching the back of his neck. He turned to Mika, who was now frozen like a statue, her hands cupping her reddened cheeks.

He stepped closer, crouching slightly and gently took her soft, slender hand in his own. "Let’s go," he said with a warm smile.

Mika nodded, still unable to meet his eyes, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Her other hand clutched the hem of her dress nervously, and Kokoro couldn’t help but find the sight strangely adorable.

Even in a tense situation, Mika’s flustered expression was just too charming. Despite her beauty, her pride, and her composure, there was still this vulnerable side to her that made Kokoro’s heart ache in the best way.

With her hand still in his, Kokoro gently patted her head. Her hair was soft and fragrant—like a field of lilies in spring—and the moment made her flinch ever so slightly before accepting the gesture.

"You’re lucky you’re short," Kokoro said teasingly under his breath. "It’s way too easy to pat your head like this."

"I heard that," Mika muttered, but her voice lacked any bite.

Kokoro led them out of the restaurant, weaving between tables. He felt her grip tighten slightly on his hand, as if she was grounding herself through him.

The mall’s second floor was lively as ever. Footsteps echoed over the polished tiles, kids darted between their parents’ legs, the aromas of grilled meat, sweet crepes, and hot coffee wafted through the air. But to Kokoro, all the noise was a distant hum. His mind was entirely focused on Mika.

He couldn’t delay anymore. He had to tell her. About Sakura. About the picture. About everything.

But not here.

Not in the middle of a crowded food court where Mika’s emotions might explode again in front of strangers.

Once they stepped away from the foot traffic and found a quieter hallway near the indoor garden area of the mall, Kokoro gently slowed his steps. Mika followed his pace.

"I’m sorry again," Kokoro said softly. "Let me explain everything, but not while we’re surrounded by people. Okay?"

Mika didn’t answer immediately. She just looked up at him, her gray eyes unreadable. Then, finally, she nodded.

"Okay."

Kokoro let out a quiet sigh of relief, his thumb unconsciously brushing over her knuckles.

Whatever happened next—it would be honest.

And maybe, just maybe, she would understand.