The days following our victory in the School Spirit Project Contest felt like a dream. The Classic Literature & Film Society was saved! We had funding, recognition, and a sudden surge of interest from students who had previously ignored us. Mr. Yoshida was overjoyed. Kenji was insufferable with pride, claiming partial credit for his 'PR management.' Even Yuki Nakamura seemed faintly pleased.
And then there was Sakura-san and me.
The spontaneous hug on stage, the walk to the podium with our hands clasped – it had been undeniably real. It wasn't part of the plan anymore. It was a genuine reaction, a shared moment of triumph and relief that the whole school had witnessed.
The buzz about us didn't stop; it transformed again. The whispers were now less about 'is it fake?' and more about 'Wow, they're actually a couple!' or 'Did you see that hug? So romantic!' Our 'fake' relationship had become the real one in the eyes of the school, solidified by our very real reaction to winning.
But beneath the public perception, things between us were… complicated. The confession in the clubroom had happened. The hug on stage had happened. We knew our feelings for each other were real. But what did that mean now? The 'fake dating to save the club' mission was accomplished. Did the 'fake' part of the dating automatically end? Did the real part automatically begin?
We hadn't had a chance for a proper conversation since the victory. School was busy, club duties (now amplified by our success) were pressing, and the sheer awkwardness of transitioning from fake-but-maybe-real to just plain real was daunting.
We agreed to meet in the clubroom after school, just the two of us, after the initial wave of club celebration had died down. It was time for the real conversation.
Sitting opposite Sakura-san in the quiet clubroom, the certificate and oversized check for the contest prize displayed proudly on a table, felt strange. This room, our little sanctuary, had been the birthplace of the crazy plan and the witness to our developing feelings.
"So," I started, my voice a little shaky. "We did it. We saved the club."
Sakura-san smiled, a soft, genuine smile. "We did, Tanaka-kun. Thanks to you."
"Thanks to you too, Yamato-san," I replied. "It was your idea. And you were amazing."
We fell into silence. The kind that wasn't awkward, but heavy with unspoken questions.
She looked at me, her expression thoughtful. "About... about everything. The plan. The contest. And... and us."
I swallowed. This was it. The conversation I had been dreading and hoping for.
"Yeah," I said. "Us."
She took a deep breath. "The plan... to fake date to save the club... it worked. The 'fake' part... it was for the project. And the project is over now."
My heart gave a painful clench. Was this her way of saying it was all over? The plan, the act, and... us?
She must have seen the look on my face. Her expression softened immediately.
"But," she continued softly, her eyes meeting mine, "somewhere along the way... something unexpected happened, didn't it?"
My breath hitched. "Unexpected things," I murmured, remembering her words.
She nodded, a faint blush touching her cheeks. "Unexpected feelings. For me, anyway. And... and I think... for you too?"
"Yeah," I confirmed, my voice barely above a whisper. "For me too."
She smiled, a small, vulnerable smile. "So... the 'fake' part of the dating... it was for the project. But the feelings... they weren't fake. They became real."
She paused, gathering her courage. "So... now that the project is over... and the reason for the 'fake' dating is gone..."
My heart was pounding. Please, don't say what I think you're going to say.
"...What happens now, Tanaka-kun?" she asked, her voice low and searching. "Do... do we go back to how things were before? Or... or do we see... what happens with the real part?"
She was asking me. Giving me the choice, just like she had given me the choice to join the plan in the first place.
Go back to how things were? Go back to being invisible Hiroshi Tanaka, looking at the unattainable Sakura Yamato from a distance? The thought felt impossible, painful.
I looked at her, really looked at her. Not Sakura Yamato, the school idol, but Sakura-san, the girl who was dedicated and kind, who had a hidden vulnerability, who laughed genuinely, who admitted her nerves, who hugged me on stage, and who was now looking at me with hope and apprehension in her beautiful eyes.
My own feelings, the ones that had grown from confusing possibility to undeniable reality, surged forward.
"Sakura-san," I said, using her first name without an honorific for the first time outside my head. It felt incredibly bold, incredibly real.
Her eyes widened slightly at the directness, at the use of her name.
"I don't want to go back," I said, my voice firm. "I don't want to go back to how things were before."
A wave of relief washed over her face. Her smile widened, tentative at first, then radiant.
"Me neither, Hiroshi-kun," she replied, using my first name, her voice soft with emotion.
Hiroshi-kun. Hearing my first name from her, with that tone, felt more real than anything else.
"So," she said softly, her hand reaching tentatively across the table towards mine. "The 'fake' dating... is over."
"Yeah," I agreed, reaching out to take her hand. Her fingers interlaced with mine, this time not for show, but because we both wanted it.
"And the real dating...?" she prompted, her eyes shining.
I held her gaze, squeezing her hand gently. "The real dating... starts now."
A shared smile, full of relief, happiness, and nervous excitement, spread between us.
Sitting there, in the quiet clubroom, our hands clasped across the table, the oversized check a symbol of the plan that brought us together, the outside world of school rumors and expectations fading away for a moment, it felt like the true beginning.
The unexpectedly real love story, born from a fake plan, was finally ready to unfold.