"So... is this what rejection feels like?"
Masao took another slow, deliberate sip of his miso soup before he spoke again, his tone oddly clinical.
"It seems rather abrupt. Tell me, Yukinoshita, for the sake of social propriety, should I be acting more heartbroken right now?"
Yukinoshita Yukino considered his question with genuine analytical seriousness.
"According to conventional social scripts, yes, this is the point where you should display a noticeable degree of dejection."
"I see. Let me try, then."
Masao nodded, his face becoming a study in concentration. He took a final sip of the savory soup, and then his expression shifted into a complex mosaic of emotion: three parts disdain, three parts indifference, three pride, and a single, sharp sliver of flustered spite.
"Pfft, as if! Honestly, this miso soup is just... passable. You didn't actually think I was impressed, did you? I mean, get real..."
Watching his performance, Yukinoshita couldn't suppress a laugh. It was a light, musical sound she rarely made.
"Masao-kun, where did you learn that? The words themselves are clearly meant to be dismissive, but..." She brought a hand to her mouth, her shoulders shaking slightly. "...but the delivery is the very picture of someone trying to save face."
"Pretty effective, though, right?" If he could draw a real laugh from the unflappable Yukinoshita, he'd count the attempt a resounding success.
With the brief comedy concluded, a comfortable silence settled over the two of them as they finished their meal.
Why only two?
That was because Jahy had been operating on a single, unwavering frequency since the food was served: dedicated consumption.
She was the very embodiment of a true gourmand, her focus absolute.
After lunch and a refreshing serving of fruit, they lounged for a while longer, until the clock neared two. Yukinoshita, ever the diligent taskmaster, promptly shepherded them back to their studies.
Jahy's assignment was straightforward: read.
Her mission was to devour knowledge as enthusiastically as she did her meals, whether from encyclopedias or literary classics.
Masao's primary focus was his nemesis: the twin subjects of History and Social Studies.
When his mind grew weary from time lines and political theory, he would "relax" by solving complex problems from his stronger subjects.
Yukinoshita was deep in her own review sessions. Yet, whenever she encountered a critical concept or untangled a particularly tricky problem, she would immediately share the insight with Masao.
And Masao, like a dry sponge thrown into water, eagerly soaked up every drop of knowledge she offered.
—
They finally called it a day as the last vestiges of sunlight faded from the sky.
Masao stretched, his back emitting a satisfying series of pops.
"I feel... full," he mused. "Not my stomach, but my head. It feels heavy with all that information."
Hearing this, Yukinoshita offered a rare smile.
"That is the desired effect, Masao-kun. It means the knowledge has successfully taken up residence."
"So that's the feeling of learning. Noted."
Jahy snapped her book shut with an air of finality.
"This novel is good. The protagonist's struggle for dominance was compelling. I need more books of this caliber."
"You'll have enough novels to keep you occupied for a long time," Masao said, rising to his feet and checking his phone. "But first, there is a more pressing matter: dinner. My parents won't be back until late. Shall we eat out?"
Yukinoshita gathered her things.
"That's fine with me." She was mentally fatigued, and the idea of not having to cook was a welcome respite.
"Hooray! A feast for me!" Jahy bounced up, her earlier studious demeanor replaced by glee.
Masao glanced at the jubilant little figure.
'Right. I almost forgot about the third wheel.'
Before leaving, Yukinoshita grabbed her bag—she would head straight home after dinner. Masao went to his room and fetched one of his own jackets for her.
"Yukinoshita, it's a bit chilly outside now. You should wear this."
Yukinoshita was wearing a white sleeveless dress with a light blue short-sleeved cardigan over it. It was perfect for the daytime, but the evening breeze was starting to pick up. She looked at the oversized jacket, hesitated for a moment, then accepted it.
"Thank you."
She wasn't one for pointless fuss, nor did she have any particular aversion to sharing Masao's things. She simply put the jacket on.
Yukinoshita stood at 163 centimeters, more than ten centimeters shorter than Masao. Combined with Masao's broader build, the jacket hung very loosely on her, the sleeves covering her hands.
Masao observed the result.
'So this is the legendary 'boyfriend jacket' effect. It does have a certain charm... I'll just have to make sure I ask for it back later.'
The trio soon found themselves on a bustling commercial street.
It was a weekend evening, and the district was alive with the energy of countless people.
A river of humanity flowed around them: solitary shoppers, boisterous friend groups, couples intertwined in their own worlds, and families creating small, moving islands of domestic bliss.
Their own little group painted an ambiguous picture.
They could, at a stretch, be mistaken for a very young family, though Masao and Yukinoshita lacked the weary demeanor of parents.
They could be a couple, but the palpable space between them and their contrast in appearance—one a vision of refined beauty, the other... less so—made them an unlikely pair.
Yukinoshita, with her flawless features and hair tied in an elegant bun, exuded a gentle grace.
The oversized jacket only amplified an aura of delicate charm, making her seem both protected and protectively adorable. She was the living image of an ideal—the unattainable first love, the perfect 'Yamato Nadeshiko', a silent rebuke to every other woman on the street.
Men's eyes, drawn by an irresistible force, followed her, while their companions pretended not to notice.
The petite, dynamo-like Jahy, buzzing with excitement, effortlessly won the affection of a different demographic, stirring in passing men a sudden, wistful longing for fatherhood.
And the one accompanying these two? The one who drew suspicious glances and silent judgments? That, of course, was Masao.
Masao sighed inwardly.
'Yare yare. Here we go again. These stares, full of envy and baseless assumptions... This feeling…'
'...is absolutely magnificent.'
He was learning to not just endure, but to actively relish the electric sensation of being the object of so much undesired attention.
Soon, each was holding a steaming meat bun from a street vendor, the savory aroma mingling with the cool night air.
"You know," Masao mused around a massive bite, "I have this nagging feeling I'm forgetting something important. Mmm... oh wow, this is incredible!"
Yukinoshita leveled a flat, unimpressed look at him. "You're forgetting your diet."
"Oh." The word landed with a thud. "Right."
The grim reality of his situation dawned.
"Now that you mention it, my caloric intake has been... liberal these past few days. What's the protocol here? Do stop eating now?"
He took another large bite even as he spoke.
Watching the contradiction play out on his face, Yukinoshita could only roll her eyes.
"If I told you to stop right now, could you?"
"Heh. At this point, there's no stopping." He took another determined bite.
"Exactly. Just this once, and don't make a habit of it."
"Awesome. I feel like you're becoming more and more easygoing, Yukinoshita."
"In that case, I should probably be stricter. Otherwise, Masao-kun will start getting carried away."
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