Twelve

No matter how many people have crashed into my life without an invite, I've never felt like they got the upper hand on me. I'm always on top of what they're up to and know exactly how to handle it—I call the shots. But with this guy, it's like something else is pulling the strings inside me. My heart feels yanked forward, and it's as if some sneaky parasite I didn't even know I picked up is driving my legs. Before I know it, I'm moving, almost on autopilot. One step turns into another, and suddenly, I find myself standing behind the pile of neatly stacked canvases.

While the blonde-haired dude is totally lost in the glow of the burning canvases, I snag the canvas with his painting.

The medium he's used here isn't watercolour—it's definitely thicker. What is this, acrylic…? Or is it an oil paint? Nah, it couldn't be gouache… at least I think. Hell, I barely know squat about art. But I do remember this piece popping off the wall when I was in that room, catching my eye while everyone else was all eyes on Maki.

At first glance, this painting might not seem like much—just some old, small shrine that feels strangely familiar. The backdrop's choked with ancient trees, and out front, there's a gang of cats sporting all kinds of fur colours, playing around in the yard. But, for some reason, it hits me with this wave of nostalgia, almost like I'm looking through my own eyes in the painting.

I glance up and catch a view of that sandy blonde hair ahead of me. Dude hasn't even clocked me standing here—he's so zoned out, like his mind's wandered off to some far-off place, completely detached from here and now.

Seeing him all zoned out, I can't help but ask, "You gonna burn this one too?"

I know he hears me because he whirls around, and suddenly, we're eye to eye. But the frown that quickly forms tells me I'm not exactly welcome here—he's probably gonna give me the cold shoulder like he always does.

"Maybe."

Oh? Wow… didn't expect him to actually respond. Is this a good sign? Should I push my luck here? I mean, what have I got to lose, right?

"Aw, what a shame… I mean, I'm not an art expert, but wouldn't it be a waste to torch something this cool?" I keep my smile plastered on, even though he hasn't eased up his tense expression one bit. "Kinda like how suck it is when you had to disband your club because of all that bad luck."

Crap, look at the lines on his forehead—deepen as he scowls even harder. Maybe what I said was too much. I gotta smooth this over, show him I'm on his side without coming on too strong. I mean, it'd be pretty sketchy, right? Some random dude showing up out of the blue, acting all knight-in-shining armour. He'd definitely be wary, especially if he knew who I'm seeing.

"Uhm... it's pretty unfair, right? What happened to your club and all the crappy stuff people say about you," I venture, hoping he'll bite on my attempt at casual sympathy.

But no dice—instead, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. "I don't know you, and you know nothing about me."

He doesn't know me, huh? That stings a bit… after all the effort I put in trying to get on his radar—even nearly lost my mind thinking about pulling some wild move straight out of a yaoi manga. And still, he doesn't recognise me? Doesn't even remember my face?

A bit of a bummer, but I'm still holding out hope this chat might turn things around. I mean, we've never really talked this much before.

So, I'll just suck it up, slap on a smile, and keep the vibe light.

"Oh, right… my bad for rolling up on you without a proper intro," I start, cranking out the brightest smile I can muster. "I'm Hasegawa Tetsurou, from Class 1-3. Nice to finally meet you, senpai."

That's some kind of a proper intro, but it feels a bit off, you know… like I should tack on something more… maybe my interests? Or how do I know him? Yeah, it just sounds like I'm reciting some generic line straight out of a textbook. But what can I do, right? I can't even remember the last time I had to introduce myself first. Not bragging but usually, everyone already knows who I am and they're the ones breaking the ice.

But this guy, he just looks totally unfazed. "Whatever. I'm in the middle of something here. Can you just give me some space?"

Man, he's like a wild cat. The way he just shrugs me off, like always, it's like there's this icy wall between us that I gotta chip away at before I can even get a word in. And yeah, it takes a ton of patience—feels like I'm navigating some otome game, picking just the right words to keep him from bolting.

So, what's my next move? What's the right button to click? Oh, right… this painting. That could be my way in.

"Anyway, senpai." I snag his attention again, making him turn back to me as I flash a 'never give up' smile and hold up the painting I snagged. "Since you're thinking about burning this one… mind if I take it home?"

"Huh? For what?" he shoots back, exactly the reaction I expected.

"Oh, nothing major. I just kinda like it, that's all."