No way.
When Kitahara Sota heard Manhattan Cafe's words, he nearly blurted those two words out on the spot.
In truth, the reason the other Umas hadn't gone for a straight confession was because they knew—once they asked this kind of question, the answer would be rejection.
And being rejected wasn't the real issue.
The bigger problem was that the rejection would make this blockhead realize they harbored ulterior feelings.
That would instantly trigger his guard, and any future attempts would become extremely difficult. It was basically making the game harder for yourself.
If this had been yesterday, even if it were Manhattan Cafe asking, Kitahara would have immediately turned her down.
But right now…
He glanced at those two idiots still glaring at each other across the room, completely oblivious to what was happening here.
Then looked at the girl in front of him, face red to her ears, hands resting nervously on her knees, the picture of shyness—and crucially, not laying a single hand on him.
Something in Kitahara's chest felt… healed.
What a good kid. Not like those two, always making trouble…
Even so, he had no intention of accepting her.
But refusal aside, after thinking a bit, he decided to at least ask why she would suddenly confess.
Because if he remembered right—Cafe had joined the team relatively late.
By then, his team was already large, and he'd spent more time with Sunday Silence than with her.
Forget "building affection"—she barely even had opportunities for it.
So how could Cafe possibly like him?
After a moment's silence, instead of refusing right away, he kept his voice low, gentle as possible.
"Cafe… can you tell me, why did you suddenly say this?"
Hearing his question, Cafe's blush deepened, her tail flapping faster behind her.
So why did Manhattan Cafe suddenly confess?
The answer—Sunday Silence's influence.
Because Sunday Silence had already decided—she would stay by Kitahara for life.
After training camp, she thought about it and realized: Kitahara was important. But Cafe was equally important. She couldn't abandon either.
And after thinking it through, she found only one solution.
That was—make Cafe and Kitahara get together.
That way, even if she herself ended up with Kitahara, she wouldn't have to lose Cafe.
And on Cafe's side, Kitahara was a man who could make even her heart stir. Reliable, trustworthy. Entrusting Cafe to him, Sunday Silence could rest easy.
So, after camp, though she hadn't revealed what had happened between her and Kitahara, she began to subtly probe Cafe's feelings.
And soon dropped all subtlety, outright suggesting she hoped Cafe would be with Kitahara.
And Cafe's own attitude?
She… wavered.
Before meeting Kitahara, she had been alone most of the time.
Her only "friends" were a ghost she couldn't touch and a mad scientist who used her for experiments. No wonder she'd become timid, weak-spoken.
But after meeting Kitahara, her life had flipped.
Her circle of friends grew—strange, yes, but kind.
Her running speed improved, thanks entirely to his training guidance.
And he was the only one who could see—and even touch—Sunday Silence. The only one she could talk to about her "friend."
He was gentle. Considerate. Understanding.
At the same time strong, responsible, and absurdly capable.
Yes, because she joined late, she hadn't interacted with him much, hadn't done "affection-building" things.
But—because of her past, Cafe wasn't good at contact with others.
If Kitahara had been too enthusiastic with her, she might've recoiled.
The way he quietly let her stay nearby instead was exactly what fit her best.
Add the huge impression bonus from being able to see her friend, plus steady observation over time—soon enough, she too was drawn to him.
And just when that was happening, Sunday Silence proposed that she should be with him.
If it had been only up to herself, Cafe would never have had the courage.
But since her friend said so—she thought maybe she should try.
Not only for herself, but also for Sunday Silence.
Because up to now, only she, Kitahara, and Eclipse could see "Friend."
And since Sunday Silence clearly didn't want contact with Eclipse, that left just her and Kitahara.
If she and Kitahara didn't move forward, then Sunday Silence would be forced to choose between them. And every choice meant separation.
She didn't want her friend torn by that.
And since she didn't dislike Kitahara—no, maybe even liked him a little—that feeling had begun to grow.
Then just now—because Kitahara had pushed Sunday Silence too hard—she hadn't been able to hold back her voice. Cafe, waiting outside, heard it.
But she didn't think anything bad of it.
She thought—it must be Sunday Silence talking with Kitahara about her.
Because the sound, strained as it was, really did sound like muttering words.
So she left, not eavesdropping further.
Otherwise, once Sunday Silence's voice grew louder later, she might have realized…
But there are no ifs.
Cafe hadn't listened, and thought her friend was helping her.
So, feeling she owed Sunday Silence's effort something in return, she gathered her courage after hesitating… and confessed.
Now, facing Kitahara's question, Cafe hesitated, then honestly told him everything. She sold her ghost friend out without hesitation.
Hearing it, Kitahara's gaze sharpened.
Yes, Cafe admitted she did feel "like" toward him.
But Kitahara didn't see it that way.
He didn't doubt she didn't dislike him. But he thought her "liking" was likely confusion.
Because she'd had no friends before, and now met someone who could see her "friend," who was also her trainer and a man.
Very common at this age, confusing different emotions for "like."
And thinking carefully—he really hadn't interacted with her much. That only convinced him more.
If this counted as "liking," then wouldn't every girl on his team like him?
Impossible. You'd have to be unbelievably narcissistic to believe that.
And since none of the others who had far more contact with him showed anything, then obedient little Cafe certainly wouldn't either.
So then—if it wasn't her own idea, whose fault was it…
His eyes drifted to a certain ghost.
She shivered, as though a predator's gaze had fallen on her.
But since he had just "disciplined" her earlier, and there were too many people now, Kitahara held back.
He only noted it down. Next time she acted up, he'd settle accounts with interest.
For now, the priority was responding to Cafe.
Once, he'd have rejected immediately.
But after everything today, facing shy, adorable Cafe, he couldn't bring himself to crush her outright.
With someone like Sunday Silence, always pushing boundaries, he could fight back without mercy.
But Cafe, soft as cotton, crumbling even without his rejection—
he couldn't be cruel.
So after a pause, he gave a compromise.
"Cafe, I'm sorry. I can't accept your request."
Her body stiffened. Head bowed. Tail stilled.
"…I understand."
She had expected this.
After all, his attitude toward romance with his girls was clear. Rejection was inevitable.
But even so, she didn't intend to give up.
Her past had taught her—friends, victories, they had to be fought for.
So she had failed. So what. At least she had expressed her feelings.
And she would continue to try, in her own way…
As she thought that, Kitahara spoke again.
"But, Cafe—this doesn't mean I dislike you."
"On the contrary. I truly think you're very cute. I like you too."
"But Cafe, you must understand—liking has many kinds. Between man and woman. Between friends. Between parents and children…"
"My liking for you—it's more like liking something beautiful. Not romantic love."
"You're cute. Your talent as a Uma is outstanding. Your personality is wonderful. Even your ability to see what others cannot—that too is part of your charm."
"But the issue is, you're still a child. You've just debuted. You're under my charge."
"I won't lie to you. I like you, I'll care for you. But I can't see you as a romantic partner."
"Yes, in Tracen many trainers and their charges fall in love after a short time together. I respect and support their choices. But I can't accept it for myself."
"So, Cafe, I can't answer your feelings now."
"But if you don't mind—then I promise I'll wait."
"Wait until you've run these three years, until we've come to know each other more deeply, until you've grown into an adult. If your heart is the same then—I'll consider it seriously, and give you an answer."
"Until then, I'll remain your trainer, caring for and supporting you."
"You don't need any burden. Treat me as before. Come to me with needs or troubles, I'll help as best I can. Don't force yourself to be restrained. Show your truest self—good or bad. That's how we truly know each other, and avoid regret later."
"That's how I see it. What do you think, Cafe?"
She didn't answer, only lowered her head.
But this time, unlike before, her tail swished faintly, her blush so deep it looked like it would drip.
After a while, she nodded softly. Then whispered:
"Then… may I continue to like Trainer Kitahara from now on?"
Such a sweet question drew a smile from him.
"Why not? Or rather—even if you want to, I couldn't stop you."
He glanced at the two still glaring at each other across the room, oblivious to all this.
Then looked back at Cafe, so shy, so soft. This child is an angel.
He lowered his voice.
"Also, Cafe… today's matter, let's keep between us, all right? You understand why."
He didn't want her embarrassed later with the team.
And she understood immediately. Her tail wagged faster, and she nodded.
Then, as though remembering something, she hesitated, then whispered:
"Um… Trainer Kitahara, could you lean closer?"
"What is it?"
He leaned down.
And then—
Chu~
A soft touch brushed his cheek like a dragonfly skimming water.
Before he could react, she ducked her head again, hiding in her shyness.
Kitahara straightened slowly, hand to his cheek, expression complicated.
By all rights, after what had just happened, he should be tense, cautious.
But thinking back to the sofa, to the washroom—suddenly this didn't feel so unacceptable.
A long moment later, the two across the room finally noticed them.
But Cafe had already returned to her seat, and Kitahara wore his usual thick-skinned calm.
So they noticed nothing—only wondered when Cafe had slipped away, without them catching it.
Soon after, Nice Nature returned with the other team girls from training.
The room bustled with noise again.
Tachyon was calm. Sunday Silence quiet.
Even Cafe had returned to normal, carefully disguising the little mark she had left on his cheek.
As though nothing had happened.
Oguri, eyes clear, mingled in the crowd, happily eating.
Not a single soul suspected she had any designs on Kitahara.
And Kitahara himself looked the same as always.
But inwardly, seeing the bustle, and those who had persecuted him now pretending innocence, he couldn't help but think:
Maybe tomorrow I should just go to the training grounds.
Yes, school hadn't started yet. But if he stayed cooped in the dorm at this rate, by the time term began, his lips might be swollen.
At least the training grounds were crowded.
Safer than this dorm, where aside from Eclipse—a Maginot Line in both form and function—he had no defenses at all.
It's decided.
The next day, though still vacation, Kitahara got up early and went to the training grounds, treating it like advance prep for school.
But once there—he realized.
The atmosphere was a little different than a month ago.
Not like last time at detention.
This time, after camp, the girls all knew—they could always come to his dorm if they needed to "breathe him in."
So no one was falling into strange states of withdrawal.
Except Oguri. She was special.
This time, the oddness wasn't in the team as a whole.
It was in one particular corner.
He glanced over.
Special Week and a certain famous flat-chested carrot girl, cuddling and training, chatting happily.
Then glanced again.
Grass Wonder, resting alone on the grass, watching them with a desolate face.
Kitahara rubbed his chin, sinking into thought.
And two questions rose in his heart.
The first—why was Silence Suzuka in his team?
And not just new—she looked very well integrated already.
The second...
He looked at Grass Wonder, downcast, even haggard, sitting alone. His expression turned melancholy.
Grass Wonder, how are you losing again, and again, and again!?
Do you deserve the assists I gave you!?