Chapter 14 – Between Fire and Ice
The morning sun painted the high school courtyard gold, but to Natsuki, the warmth felt like a spotlight he couldn't escape. Every step through the crowded gates carried the weight of two gazes burning holes in his back.
On his right, Hanako walked with unshakable energy, waving cheerfully at classmates who recognized her from the volleyball team. Her smile was dazzling, her laugh effortless—like she belonged everywhere she stepped. On his left, Mitsuri moved in silence, her presence sharp as glass. Her eyes flicked over the crowd with quiet judgment, uninterested in chatter or popularity.
And there he was, caught between them.
Whispers trailed behind them.
"Isn't that Natsuki?"
"Yeah, with Hanako and… wait, isn't that Mitsuri?"
"Man, lucky guy—or maybe unlucky."
Natsuki clenched his fists inside his pockets. He hated attention. And yet here it was, following him like a curse.
---
Their first class of the day dragged by, but it was lunch break when everything truly came undone.
The classroom buzzed with chatter as students pulled out bentō boxes or hurried to the cafeteria. Natsuki had just unpacked his own when Hanako slid her chair close, practically leaning on his desk.
"Here," she said brightly, holding out a small container. "I made this for you. Extra rice balls, your favorite."
Natsuki blinked. "Hanako, you didn't have to—"
"I wanted to," she cut in quickly, her smile firm. "You're terrible at taking care of yourself, so let me."
Before he could respond, Mitsuri's voice came from behind him. Calm. Cold. "He doesn't need you hovering. He's capable of feeding himself."
Hanako's eyes narrowed. "Funny. He didn't seem so 'capable' last night when he was bleeding all over the place." She set the container firmly on his desk, as though staking a claim.
A ripple of silence moved through the nearby desks. Students pretended not to listen, but their ears leaned closer.
Mitsuri walked forward, placing her own lunch neatly in front of Natsuki. "If we're comparing, I've been cooking for him for months. He prefers my miso soup. Isn't that right, Natsuki?"
Natsuki froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. His stomach twisted—two lunches, two girls, two sets of eyes waiting for him to choose.
He swallowed hard. "I… uh—"
Hanako leaned in closer, her voice sharp but playful. "Careful, Mitsuri. You sound like you're scared I'll take him away."
Mitsuri's gaze sharpened, her lips curving into the faintest, dangerous smile. "Only if he wanted to be taken."
The tension between them was so palpable the whole class held its breath.
Natsuki wanted to sink through the floor.
---
After school, the rivalry didn't end—it intensified. The announcement came over the intercom:
"Attention all students! Sign-ups for the Cultural Festival committee begin today. Please see the board outside the faculty office."
Students rushed out, buzzing with excitement. Hanako's eyes lit up immediately. "Natsuki, let's sign up together! We'll work on the main stage team."
Before he could answer, Mitsuri spoke. "No. He's joining me on the logistics committee. Less noise, less trouble."
Hanako spun to face her. "You don't get to decide that for him."
"And neither do you," Mitsuri replied coolly.
Their eyes clashed like fire and ice, neither backing down. Around them, classmates whispered, excitement spreading like wildfire. It wasn't just about Natsuki anymore—it was entertainment.
Hanako grabbed Natsuki's wrist. "Come on. You'll have fun with me."
Mitsuri's hand shot out, catching his other wrist. "He already has responsibilities with me."
Natsuki's heart pounded, caught in the tug-of-war. "Enough!" His voice cracked louder than intended, making the hallway fall silent. Both girls froze, eyes wide as if surprised he'd snapped.
He pulled his hands free, breathing heavily. "I'm not a prize. Stop… stop treating me like one."
The words hurt more than his bruises from last night, but he couldn't hold them back any longer.
Hanako's expression faltered, her smile wavering into something raw. Mitsuri's eyes softened, almost imperceptibly, but her jaw clenched.
Silence swallowed the hallway before the chatter picked up again, louder than before. "Did you hear that? Natsuki actually yelled…"
---
Later that evening, when the sun dipped low and shadows stretched across the campus, Natsuki found himself alone on the rooftop. The wind cooled his burning face, carrying away the echoes of laughter and whispers.
He thought of Hanako—her boldness, her unwavering presence. She reminded him of warmth he thought he'd lost, of simpler days before gangs and bruises and responsibility. But Mitsuri… Mitsuri was different. She was his anchor, the quiet force that steadied him when he felt like drowning.
Fire and ice. Two extremes pulling him apart.
The rooftop door creaked open. Mitsuri stepped out, her hair catching the sunset glow. She didn't speak at first, just walked over and stood beside him.
"You hate the noise," she said softly, watching the horizon.
Natsuki let out a bitter laugh. "I hate being in the middle."
Her hand brushed against his, light as air, almost hesitant. "Then stop standing in the middle. Choose where you belong."
Before he could answer, the door opened again. Hanako stepped out, carrying her usual confidence, but her eyes held a flicker of something vulnerable. She saw their hands nearly touching and froze, just for a second. Then she smiled, bold and bright as ever.
"There you are. I thought I'd lost you."
And in that moment, with the setting sun painting the sky in fire and gold, Natsuki realized the truth: no matter which way he turned, someone's heart would break.
And his own might be the first.
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