Chapter 15 – Whispers in the Halls
The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of Shirokawa High, staining the polished floors with golden light. Students shuffled in groups, their chatter bouncing off the hallway walls. Laughter, gossip, the faint slam of lockers—it was the usual school morning, except for the shadow that always drew unwanted eyes.
Natsuki walked a step behind Mitsuri, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his posture as careless as ever. His uniform was untucked, his tie nowhere in sight, and his sharp eyes scanned the hall with practiced indifference. To the students watching, he was every bit the delinquent they whispered about.
"Why is she with him again?" someone murmured.
"They're always together. Doesn't she care about her image?" another voice followed, dripping with disdain.
"She's from one of the wealthiest families in the city. And him? He's nothing but a thug."
The words weren't meant for Natsuki's ears, but he heard them all. He always did. He'd gotten used to it—the scorn, the disgust, the pitying looks. But he kept walking, his face unreadable, his mind focused on the one thing that mattered: stay close, protect Mitsuri.
Mitsuri heard the whispers too. Her jaw tightened, but she didn't slow her pace. She wanted to snap back, to tell them they didn't know a damn thing about Natsuki. But she bit her tongue. A part of her feared that if she spoke out, the rumors would only grow uglier.
Then, like a ripple through the crowd, a different voice cut through. Bright. Bold. Unafraid.
"Good morning, Natsuki!"
Heads turned.
Hanako strode across the hall, her transfer-student uniform neat but her demeanor anything but modest. She waved openly, a smile plastered across her face as if she didn't notice—or didn't care—that every eye in the hallway was now on her.
Natsuki blinked. "…Hanako?"
The crowd erupted in murmurs.
"She knows him?"
"Wait, that new girl's friends with him?"
"Poor thing. She's going to ruin her reputation."
Hanako ignored all of it. She marched straight to Natsuki, closing the distance until she was standing boldly in front of him and Mitsuri.
"You walk too fast, you know. I had to practically run just to catch up," she said, hands on her hips.
Mitsuri's eyes narrowed. "And why exactly are you trying to catch up?"
Hanako turned, her expression sly. "Because I feel like it. Is that a problem?"
The tension crackled instantly. The hallway, once filled with casual chatter, had gone silent. Students leaned in, their curiosity piqued. A clash was brewing, and nobody wanted to miss it.
Natsuki rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the scene unfolding. "Hanako, maybe now's not—"
But Hanako wasn't backing down. She looped her arm through his with practiced ease, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Gasps spread through the hallway.
Mitsuri's breath hitched, her composure fracturing. "What do you think you're doing?"
Hanako tilted her head, her grin sharp. "What does it look like? I'm walking to class with my childhood friend. We've known each other since we were kids, after all."
The phrase childhood friend rippled like a shockwave. Students exchanged knowing looks. Childhood friend versus the school's untouchable princess? This was better than anything on TV.
Mitsuri's fists clenched at her sides. "You—"
"Relax," Hanako interrupted, her voice laced with mock innocence. "It's not like I'm stealing him from you. Or… wait." Her eyes flicked to Mitsuri, deliberately taunting. "Can someone be stolen if they weren't yours to begin with?"
Mitsuri's face flushed crimson, equal parts fury and embarrassment. The words hit too close to the truth she hadn't admitted, even to herself.
Natsuki exhaled sharply, stepping between them before Mitsuri could explode. "Enough. Both of you." His tone was stern, his patience fraying. "We're already late. Let's just go."
But the damage was done. Whispers filled the hallway like wildfire.
"So she's his childhood friend…"
"And Mitsuri looks pissed…"
"Who knew a delinquent could get this much attention?"
Natsuki felt the weight of every stare as they walked to class. Mitsuri remained silent, her anger simmering beneath the surface. Hanako, on the other hand, looked utterly pleased with herself, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
---
When they reached their classroom, the tension didn't ease—it grew. As the teacher droned on about equations and formulas, the atmosphere around the three of them became its own battlefield.
Hanako leaned forward from her seat beside Natsuki, whispering loud enough for Mitsuri to hear. "You still like sweet bread, right? Just like when we were kids." She slid a neatly wrapped package onto his desk.
Mitsuri's eyes flicked to it instantly, her lips pressing into a thin line.
Natsuki glanced at it, hesitating. "You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," Hanako replied simply, her smile soft this time. "I remember everything, you know."
Mitsuri's nails dug into her palm under the desk. It wasn't just the gesture—it was the ease with which Hanako brought out a side of Natsuki that Mitsuri rarely saw. Relaxed. Almost… gentle.
When lunch break came, the stares returned in full force. Natsuki stepped out into the courtyard, hoping for air, only to find himself flanked—Hanako on one side, Mitsuri on the other.
"You don't own him," Hanako said suddenly, her voice sharp enough to slice through the silence. "You're just pretending you do because you're scared."
Mitsuri spun to face her, her emerald eyes blazing. "And you're just clinging to the past because you're afraid you have no place in his present."
Their words cut deep, sharper than either expected. Students nearby froze, stunned at the raw hostility spilling into the open.
Natsuki's patience snapped. "That's enough!" His voice rang out, commanding. For once, both girls fell silent. He stared at them, frustration etched across his face. "You two think this is some kind of game? You don't know what's at stake for me. So stop acting like you do."
The courtyard grew still. Natsuki's chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his usual composure stripped away. Hanako blinked, taken aback. Mitsuri's anger softened, guilt creeping into her expression.
But before either could speak, the school bell rang, its sharp chime breaking the moment apart.
Students scattered back to class, buzzing with excitement. Rumors would fly faster than ever now.
And as Natsuki walked ahead, hands shoved back into his pockets, one truth settled heavily over the triangle of hearts:
This was only the beginning.
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