Thirteen

Here it is. The painting that nearly turned to ashes is now right here in my room, hanging above my bed headrest, making me look like I've got some artsy vibe going on—even though, let's be real, the extent of my art skills stops at stick figures. But hey, no one's caught onto my little secret yet. So, let's just skate past that little slip-up and act like I didn't say anything, cool?

"I may not know much about art, but I can't deny senpai's got serious talent—"

Senpai…? Wow, did I really just call him that…?

"What are you trying to be? An art critic?" all of a sudden, a familiar, annoying voice teases from behind me. I spin around, and yup, it's Ayaka, clutching a paper bag stuffed with what I'm guessing is her latest haul of cringe-worthy shojo manga. "Hm? Isn't this the painting from the Miyamoto Festival?"

Oh, I didn't expect her to recognize it. I mean, back then, I thought everyone was too caught up in Maki's drama to notice anything else.

Ayaka edges closer to the painting as I toss back, "You won't believe me, but this is Akizuki-san's son's work."

"Eh? No way—! I thought it was donated by some pro artist or something." Her eyes go wide, her shock somehow puffing up my pride like I'm the genius who brushed it onto the canvas. "But it's here… did you steal it, nii-san?"

Ugh, this kid!

"Please, my dear sister… A refined gentleman such as myself doesn't engage in such underhanded activities," I say, leaning back against the wall, the painting looming just above my head. Slipping into my best imitation of high society flair, I continue, "This exquisite work of art was bestowed upon me by the artist himself, in recognition of my undeniable charm."

Ha-ha! Ayaka rolls her eyes at me. She can't stand it when I clown around, especially when I act all high and mighty about my looks.

But seriously, even I'm shocked that senpai actually let me walk away with his painting.

Ah, there I go again… calling him 'senpai'…

"Hey, nii-san." Ayaka's voice jerks me back to reality. "Do you think he actually meant to touch Miura-san? Everyone in my class is talking about him. They say he's the bad guy, but somehow… I'm not buying it."

"You think so?"

"Uhm. I mean, he doesn't seem like someone who'd hurt others."

I totally get where she's coming from, but for some reason, the urge to mess with her overpowers my will to dive into a deep, heartfelt chat. So, I blurt out, "What? You just simpin' for him because he's got that look you're into? But mama I'm in love with a criminal— Ha-ha!"

"Ugh, seriously— Talking to you is so annoying! I don't get why any girl falls for you."

Ayaka's cheeks puff up like she's morphing into an angry pufferfish. And there she goes, turning around and mumbling to herself, stomping her feet like she's trying to smash the floor apart. Guess she's planning on having our parents cough up the cash for repairs. Well, if that happens, I'm not taking the blame for it.

Now that she's stormed off, here I am, back to flying solo, free to keep admiring the painting hanging in front of me.

Staring at it, I start to wonder if he would've still let me take this painting if he knew who I really was. Thinking about him, his image starts to form in my head—those fierce, sharp eyes so much like his mother's. But I can't help but wonder, if he smiled, would he seem as approachable as his mom does when she's all charm and laughs on those TV variety shows?

He must be cute… right?

When I figured he might be approachable, I never actually thought he'd come up to me. And I swear, I'm not making this up or daydreaming. For real, he's right here in front of me, and my whole basketball squad's around too—they're my witnesses.

Rocking that signature sandy blonde hair, round glasses, and a grey pullover hoodie under his school blazer, senpai is stepping up to me during my break after basketball practice in the gym. And just a few steps behind him is that girl with shoulder-length hair who's always around him at school—yup, she's the president of their club and probably the closest person to him.

I'm trying to guess what he wants to say to me, but we've been staring at each other so long I feel like I could map out his freckles by now. Then my gaze drifts to a small cherry blossom petal caught in his hair.

Right. Maybe I should break the ice—again.

So, I reach out and pluck the petal from his hair, which makes him jump a bit, and I can't help but let out a chuckle at his reaction.

As I hold up the petal for him to see, I crack the softest smile I can manage and say, "Caught something in your hair again, senpai. Ever heard the one about a cherry blossom petal on someone's head? They say it symbolizes the start of a love story."

"Hah?" Senpai's frown deepens.

The annoyed look plastered across his face is even more intense than Ayaka's usual scowls, and man, I can't help but be totally drawn in.