There are unwritten rules to every school.
Like how the snack machine behind the science wing always eats coins on Thursdays.
Or how the third floor storage room? It's cursed. Not literally—but any props stored there mysteriously go missing right before a big event.
Which was exactly what happened… again.
"Koharu's bunny costume is gone," said the Theater Club president, pale as a ghost. "We're doomed."
I didn't know what was worse: losing the costume, or the mental image of Koharu in a bunny costume—which, disturbingly, now lived in my brain.
Mitsuki pushed up her glasses. "Another anomaly. This is the third case in a week."
"Seems like theft," I muttered.
She glanced sideways at me. "Or a pattern."
Ten minutes later, we were sneaking into the janitor's office.
"Relax," I whispered. "We're just borrowing a key log."
"Technically illegal," she said. "But morally justified. I approve."
We slipped inside. The lights flickered like a horror movie trope. I rifled through a cabinet while Mitsuki scanned the records.
"There," she pointed. "Access log. Storage room was opened yesterday at 7:14 p.m."
"No club should've been here that late…"
"And look—entry was authorized by Riku Saionji."
I blinked. "Riku? The pretty boy?"
"Indeed. He claimed to be checking lighting positions."
"…With a bunny suit?"
Mitsuki tilted her head. "Interesting kink."
I nearly choked. "It's not—!"
Just then, the door slammed open.
"What the hell is this?"
We both froze.
Koharu stood at the doorway, fists clenched, eyes blazing.
"You're sneaking around with her now?"
I tried to explain. "Koharu, it's not what it—"
But she was already turning away, storming down the hall.
---
Later, I found her behind the gym, throwing her script at a wall like it owed her money.
"You okay?" I asked.
She didn't turn.
"Go solve a crossword with your new girlfriend."
"She's not my—ugh—this isn't about Mitsuki."
"Oh no?" she spun around. "You spend all your time backstage now. You whisper with her. You laugh. I haven't seen you actually talk to me in days."
"Because every time I do, you're with Riku!"
"So what? At least he wants to be here!"
I stepped forward. "You said I was the NPC, remember?"
"Yeah?" she snapped.
"Well maybe you're the one chasing every flag except mine!"
Her mouth opened.
Then shut.
Then—SLAP.
Not on my face. With the script. A full 80-page draft of Love in Sakura War Time to the chest.
"Don't twist my words," she muttered.
I looked at her.
Really looked.
Her eyes were watery—but not from anger. Not completely.
"…Koharu."
She bit her lip. "Maybe I'm just scared, okay?"
"Scared?"
"That this story doesn't have a happy ending."
My voice was softer now. "Why wouldn't it?"
She looked down. "Because happy endings aren't for girls like me. I run around, I get excited, I make noise… and then I lose. I always do. I lose people, dreams, stories—everything."
A silence hung between us.
I finally said, "Well. That sucks. Because I kinda like your noise."
She blinked.
I stepped closer.
"And maybe I didn't want to be the protagonist… but I don't want to be the one left behind either."
"…Dumbass."
"Yup."
She looked up at me through lashes thick with unshed tears.
Then smiled. Just barely.
"Fine," she said. "We'll call it a mid-season plot twist."
I grinned. "Can I be the tsundere now?"
"Too late. That role's taken."
---
Later that night, I met Mitsuki at the school gate to update her.
"Conflict resolved?" she asked.
"Maybe."
"Emotional flags raised. Romantic tension escalating. You're in the second act now."
"…You talk like a dating sim walkthrough."
She tilted her head. "I analyze all genres. But romance is the most unpredictable."
"Tell me about it."
She handed me another riddle.
> "When does a silent voice speak loudest?"
"…When you finally listen to it?" I guessed.
She nodded.
"Correct."
I looked up. "Hey, Mitsuki."
"Yes?"
"…Thanks. For helping me find the cheat codes."
She smiled—softly.
"Anytime, Senpai."
---