Time passed faster than she expected.
Before she realized it—
Hisui had nearly achieved everything she set out to do.
The steady rhythm of drumsticks against a practice pad had long become familiar. What once felt foreign now flowed naturally through her hands.
She was good.
Good enough to perform.
The school festival was approaching, and on the third day, she would be on stage with the light music club.
Drums.
Not guitar.
Not watching from a distance.
But standing at the center of the sound.
…
At the same time, her responsibilities never slowed.
Meetings.
Coordination.
Schedules.
As class president, she worked closely with the other class representatives, organizing events and making sure everything ran smoothly.
Their class had chosen a Marriage Booth.
A simple concept—
Students could dress in wedding gowns or tuxedos and take photos as souvenirs.
Popular.
Chaotic.
Difficult to manage.
Which meant—
It fell heavily on her shoulders.
…
Somewhere along the way—
People started noticing her.
Not just as class president.
But as someone reliable.
Capable.
Visible.
She had even joined the sports festival.
Volleyball.
And won.
The girls' team became regional champions, and for the first time—
She stood on a court, under the eyes of a cheering crowd.
Not invisible.
Not overlooked.
Seen.
Her movements were sharp. Controlled. Precise.
And when the final point was scored—
The noise of the crowd surged.
Loud.
Overwhelming.
…
In the stands—
Her mother was there.
Cheering.
Loudly.
Beside her, Midori waved his arms energetically, shouting without restraint.
"Hisui!! That was amazing!"
And Shu—
Silent as always—
Raised his arm slightly, the school armband visible as a quiet sign of support.
That moment—
Burned into her memory.
A feeling she had once only imagined.
Now real.
Now hers.
…
Hisui exhaled softly as she walked down the corridor.
The present returned.
Tasks still lined up.
No time to dwell.
Her footsteps echoed lightly against the polished floor as she turned the corner—
Then—
Click.
Cold metal snapped around her wrist.
Hisui froze.
"…What?"
"Gotcha."
A boy with glasses grinned at her, holding the other end of the handcuff.
Another student approached from the side, equally amused.
"You've been nominated for the Marriage Booth."
Hisui blinked once.
Ah.
That.
Of course.
Part of the event mechanics.
Students could request pairs—
And once selected, the "Marriage Police" would cuff them together and escort them to the booth.
Unavoidable.
Public.
Ridiculous.
…
Hisui pulled her hand back slightly.
The cuff held firm.
"I have responsibilities to attend to," she said calmly.
"Sorry, Prez," the boy replied, clearly enjoying this. "No escaping this one."
His grip tightened as he began pulling her along.
Hisui's brows furrowed faintly.
This is inefficient.
Troublesome.
But more than that—
A quiet unease settled in her chest.
"…Who nominated me?" she asked.
The two boys exchanged a quick glance.
Grins widening.
"You'll see."
…
Hisui didn't resist further.
But her mind was already moving.
Fast.
Calculating.
Because something about this—
Didn't feel random.
After a while—
Darkness.
A cloth tied securely over her eyes.
Hisui's world narrowed instantly.
"…Is this necessary?" she asked, her tone flat.
"Shhh, Prez~ no talking," one of the girls whispered, barely holding back laughter.
Of course.
Part of the spectacle.
Her hand tightened slightly at her side, the cold weight of the cuff still present.
She could hear footsteps guiding her.
Feel hands gently—but insistently—steering her forward.
No vision.
No control.
Troublesome.
The door slid open.
A shift in air.
Different space.
Voices—familiar.
Female.
"Ohh—she's here!"
"Careful, careful—don't mess up her hair!"
Soft hands guided her again.
Fabric brushed against her skin.
Layers.
Light.
Flowing.
Her school uniform was removed, replaced piece by piece.
The faint rustle of cloth echoed in the room.
"…You look so pretty, Prez."
Giggles followed.
Hisui exhaled slowly.
Pretty.
Irrelevant.
This is inefficient.
Still—
She didn't resist.
Not anymore.
Resistance would only draw more attention.
…
Moments later—
She was moved again.
Another room.
Quieter this time.
The atmosphere shifted.
Different.
Heavier.
Anticipation lingered in the air.
Then—
Click.
The handcuff around her wrist loosened.
Removed.
For a brief second—
Freedom.
Then—
Another click.
Colder.
Closer.
Heavier.
Her wrist was secured again.
But this time—
There was resistance.
Not from her.
From the other side.
…
Someone else.
Cuffed to her.
Silence stretched between them.
Close.
Too close.
Hisui could feel it—
The presence beside her.
The faint warmth.
The subtle shift of breath.
Male.
Her fingers tensed slightly.
So this is the groom.
Her expression remained composed beneath the blindfold.
But her mind—
Sharp.
Alert.
Calculating.
Who?
A classmate?
Someone random?
Or—
…
Her pulse rose.
Just slightly.
Unnoticeable to anyone else.
But to her—
Clear.
Something about this felt—
Deliberate.
Not coincidence.
Not chance.
…
She tilted her head ever so slightly.
Listening.
Waiting.
For a voice.
For movement.
For anything—
That would tell her who was standing beside her.
..
The blindfold slipped away.
Light rushed in.
For a brief moment, Hisui's vision blurred—colors and shapes blending together as her eyes struggled to adjust.
Then—
Focus.
A room.
Decorated.
White fabric draped along the walls. Flowers pinned carefully in place. Soft lighting. A makeshift aisle.
It looked—
Ridiculously real.
Like a scene from a wedding.
…
People surrounded them.
Classmates.
Watching.
Whispering.
Some smiling, some wide-eyed—
All of them staring as if they were witnessing something out of a romance film.
Hisui stood still.
Handcuffed.
Dressed.
Exposed to every gaze in the room.
…
A slight tug came from her wrist.
The reminder.
She wasn't alone.
"—What a bother…"
A voice.
Low.
Familiar.
Her breath stilled.
Slowly—
She turned her head.
And saw him.
Tachibana Haiiro.
Gray eyes.
Sharp.
Unreadable.
Looking directly at her.
For a split second—
Everything inside her went silent.
Then—
It exploded.
…
Her heart pounded.
Loud.
Too loud.
Her thoughts scattered, colliding into each other—
Why him?
Why now?
Why—
But none of it reached her face.
Not a single crack.
Hisui remained perfectly still.
Perfectly composed.
As if nothing had changed.
As if everything inside her wasn't unraveling.
…
Haiiro sighed.
Annoyed.
Unimpressed.
"…Let's just get this done," he said.
Simple.
Blunt.
Like it meant nothing.
…
Hisui's fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her dress.
So this wasn't his doing.
Of course it wasn't.
He wouldn't—
Not him.
Which meant—
Someone else.
Someone who chose this.
Her thoughts sharpened instantly.
Who?
Who would do something like this?
…
Then—
A voice.
Bright.
Familiar.
Overflowing with excitement.
"I'm so happy for both of you~!"
Hisui's eyes shifted.
And there—
Mika.
Haiiro's younger sister.
Her best friend.
Standing among the crowd, hands clasped together, practically glowing with delight.
Giggling.
As if this was the most natural thing in the world.
…
Silence.
For just a second.
Everything clicked into place.
Of course.
She knew.
She had always known.
Hisui closed her eyes briefly.
Just for a moment.
Not in frustration.
Not in anger.
But in quiet resignation.
…
When she opened them again—
Her expression was calm.
Controlled.
Unshaken.
"I see," she said softly.
More to herself than anyone else.
…
Beside her, Haiiro shifted slightly, the chain between them clinking faintly.
Close.
Too close.
The air between them felt different now.
He glanced at her.
Briefly.
"…You okay with this?" he asked.
Flat.
But not entirely indifferent.
…
Hisui met his gaze.
Steady.
Unreadable.
"Yes."
A pause.
Then—
"It's just part of the event."
A perfect answer.
Safe.
Distant.
Untrue.
…
Inside—
Her heart hadn't slowed down.
Not even a little.
After that—
Everything blurred.
The ceremony.
The words.
The laughter.
Hisui barely registered any of it.
She stood there, handcuffed to him, doing everything she could—
Not to look.
Not at him.
Not even once.
…
But she could still see him.
In fragments.
The sharp lines of his tux.
The way it fit him so effortlessly.
Clean.
Composed.
Dazzling.
Her grip tightened slightly.
Don't look.
Her knees felt weak.
Unsteady.
As if they might give in at any moment if she let her guard slip even a little.
So she didn't.
She stayed still.
Perfect.
Unbreakable.
…
"—You may now consider yourselves husband and wife!"
Applause.
Laughter.
Cheers filled the room.
Too loud.
Too close.
…
A paper was placed into her hands.
A fake marriage certificate.
Light.
Meaningless.
Yet—
It felt heavier than it should.
"Photo! Photo!"
Voices called out.
They were guided closer together.
Closer.
Hisui could feel the warmth of his arm beside hers.
The faint brush of fabric.
Too aware.
Too conscious.
Flash.
The moment was captured.
Frozen.
…
"Wait!!"
Mika rushed forward, beaming.
"I want to be in the photo too!"
Before anyone could object, she slipped beside them, clinging happily.
"Make sure I get a copy!" she added excitedly. "I'm going to frame it and put it in my room!"
Hisui said nothing.
Didn't react.
Couldn't.
If Mika got any more excited—
She might say something she shouldn't.
And that would be…
Troublesome.
So she simply exhaled quietly.
…
Mika had always been like this.
Teasing.
Playful.
Supportive in her own way.
She had always—
Shipped them.
Even before.
Even back then.
Because she knew.
She had always known.
…
But—
There was something Mika didn't know.
Something her family didn't know.
Something Hisui wished she didn't remember.
…
Haiiro had a girlfriend.
The memory surfaced clearly.
Middle school.
Shina.
A year younger.
They had started dating before graduation.
Which meant—
Even now—
She was still in middle school.
Still part of his life.
…
Hisui's gaze lowered slightly.
So this…
This situation—
Was nothing but an inconvenience to him.
Of course it was.
Why wouldn't it be?
…
Understanding settled in.
Cold.
Clean.
Final.
…
That was why he sounded annoyed.
Why he wanted it over quickly.
Why there was no meaning behind any of this.
…
Her fingers loosened slightly around the paper.
Good.
That made things simpler.
No expectations.
No misunderstandings.
No reason to—
…
Her thoughts stopped.
For just a second.
Because despite all that—
Her heart still hadn't calmed down.
Not even a little.
...
Eventually, the handcuffs were removed.
The noise of the room slowly settled as students began dispersing, laughter and chatter fading into the background.
Hisui stepped away.
Careful.
Measured.
She didn't look directly at him.
But—
She was aware of him.
A few quiet side glances.
Enough to confirm he was still there.
Still the same.
Still distant.
…
Then she left.
The changing room was quieter.
More contained.
This time, there was no blindfold.
No forced darkness.
Just reality.
Hisui stepped inside, already reaching for the ties of her dress—
When she paused.
Someone else was there.
Another "bride."
Blindfolded.
Handcuffed.
Surrounded by a few girls helping her change.
Hisui didn't mean to look.
But she did.
And once she did—
She couldn't look away.
…
Her skin—
Fair.
Smooth.
Almost glowing under the soft light.
Her figure—
Delicate.
Balanced
Feminine in a way that felt… effortless.
Hisui's gaze lingered.
Longer than it should have.
Her chest tightened slightly.
Strange.
Her lips—
Soft.
Defined.
Her hair—
Being brushed carefully by another student.
Silky.
Wavy.
Falling gently down her back.
Light brown.
…
Light brown?
…
Hisui stilled.
Something clicked.
A memory.
A glimpse—
From before.
Near the back entrance.
That fleeting figure—
…
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Is it her?
Without thinking, Hisui took a small step forward.
Quiet.
Intentional.
She needed to see.
Just once—
To confirm.
—
"Prez, you need to change."
The voice cut through the moment.
Hisui stopped.
Another student approached her, slightly hurried.
"Someone from the committee is looking for you."
…
Silence.
A brief pause.
Hisui glanced once more at the girl.
Still blindfolded.
Still unaware.
So close.
And yet—
Out of reach.
…
Hisui exhaled softly.
"…I understand."
She stepped back.
Withdrew.
Control returning to her expression.
To her posture.
To her thoughts.
There will be another chance.
There always is.
Right now—
Priorities come first.
…
She turned away.