Rin couldn't help but let a small, genuine smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he watched Mai. It was in moments like these—when the poise of the national idol crumbled into the messy, vivid emotions of a teenage girl—that her most endearing side surfaced. He didn't intend to let her simmer in her frustration for long, but he did enjoy the view.
He turned toward her, meeting her narrowing eyes with a look of calm sincerity. "You're not entirely wrong about the company," he said, his voice dropping into a softer, more intimate tone. "But it wasn't what you think. They were there to recruit me for the Student Council, nothing more."
He caught her gaze and held it, his expression warm. "Does that answer suffice, Bunny Girl Senpai?"
Mai studied his face for a long beat, searching for a flicker of a lie. Gradually, the tension in her leg vanished, and she lifted her heel from his foot. "Is that the truth?" she asked, though she was already stepping closer, her face tilting up until they were mere inches apart.
"Cross my heart," Rin replied. Instead of backing away, he leaned in, closing the gap until their noses nearly brushed.
In the busy gateway of Shuchiin Academy, the sudden proximity of such a striking pair didn't go unnoticed. Passersby began to slow their pace, hiding amused smiles behind their hands or whispering to one another about the bold display.
The weight of the public gaze hit Mai all at once. Her composure dissolved into a frantic crimson blush. She scrambled backward, putting a respectable distance between them as she looked anywhere but at him. Rin watched her fluster with a satisfied grin; the King had successfully reclaimed the initiative.
"By the way, Kuga-kun," Mai said as they began the walk home, her voice regaining its steady rhythm. "You should keep an eye on Miyuki Shirogane. You turned him down today, and a man like that isn't prone to giving up easily."
Rin let out a short, dismissive grunt. "Him?" He didn't bother to hide the thread of disdain in his voice. To a man who wielded the power to rewrite time and space, the bureaucratic machinations of a high school president felt like a game of checkers. "I wouldn't worry about it. He's out of his depth."
Mai didn't press the issue. She had expected that exact response; she had grown accustomed to the quiet, immovable confidence Rin carried. She reached into her bag and pulled out a slim, bound script, a playful spark returning to her eyes.
"Look at this," she said, holding the script toward him. "I've landed another role. Supporting lead this time. And get this—the character has a scripted kiss." She leaned in, emphasizing the last two words with a mischievous tilt of her head, waiting for the flicker of jealousy to cross his face.
But Rin knew this story. He knew the industry and, more importantly, he knew the girl standing in front of him. He simply smiled, his expression one of polite, professional encouragement.
"That's wonderful news, Mai-san," he said, his tone perfectly even. "It's good to see you back in the spotlight. A kiss scene, huh? I'm sure your fans will be quite envious." He mirrored her emphasis on the word "kiss," his voice carrying a dry, teasing edge.
Mai's heart sank. She searched his face for a twitch of annoyance, a clench of the jaw—anything. Doesn't he care at all? I just said I was going to kiss someone else!
The light in her eyes dimmed, and her shoulders slumped as a wave of genuine disappointment washed over her. She didn't want to explain that it was likely a camera-angle trick or a fake-out. Her voice turned low and hollow. "Right. Thanks for the encouragement."
Rin watched her walk a few paces ahead, her disappointment so palpable it felt like a cold draft. He realized he might have pushed this side of their game a bit too far.
"You know," he said, stepping up beside her and catching her hand. "I highly doubt they'd actually give you a scene like that. And if they did..." He paused, forcing a slightly sheepish, awkward smile "Well, I think I'd find myself in a very bad mood."
Mai stopped dead in her tracks. The gloom vanished from her face, replaced by a look of sharp, crystalline realization. She didn't stomp his foot this time; instead, she closed the distance between them in a single, fluid stride, her shadow overlapping with his as she leaned in close enough for him to catch the faint, floral scent of her shampoo.
She reached out, her slender fingers catching the lapel of his uniform and tugging him down just an inch to her level.
"You think this is a game, don't you?" she whispered, her voice a low, dangerous silk that vibrated in the small space between them "Do you enjoy playing with my head that much, Kuga-kun?"
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