Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – "That Dumb Thing Made Me Misunderstand!"

The golden afternoon sun spilled lazily through the tall classroom windows, casting warm stripes of light across the rows of desks. It was the kind of warmth that made eyelids heavy, that turned even the most motivated student into a drowsy dreamer.

At the front of the room, the math teacher stood with a small stack of worksheets in her arms and a firm, no-nonsense frown on her face.

"I'll be out of the classroom for the next thirty minutes," she announced. "Finish the assignment I just handed out. If you don't, it becomes homework."

That one word—homework—swept across the room like a curse, triggering a chorus of quiet groans and slumping shoulders.

Minami, however, snapped to attention like a soldier given orders. She grabbed her pencil as if it were a sword and slammed the worksheet on her desk. "Got it! I'll finish this right now!"

One of those rare moments where she entered serious student mode.

Meanwhile…

Kazumi didn't budge.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind the departing teacher, he slid open his desk with all the ceremony of someone revealing a hidden artifact and carefully lifted out his most prized possession: a sleek, well-loved handheld console.

He set it gently on the desk as if it were made of glass.

"Perfect timing."

The soft digital chime of the game booting up rang out like music to his ears.

He was just about to slip on his headphones and escape into pixelated peace when—

"Wait."

A voice interrupted from his right.

He turned his head, mildly surprised to see Hanami leaning toward him. She had been lounging casually just moments before, half-asleep at her desk.

Now, though, she was smiling.

"Don't put those on," she said, her voice smooth and playful. "I wanna watch you play."

Kazumi raised an eyebrow. "…Watch me?"

"Yeah. Move closer."

Before he could object, Hanami scooted her chair next to his, the legs scraping softly across the floor. She leaned in close—very close—her shoulder brushing his, and tilted her head to get a good view of the screen.

"I've always wondered what kind of games you're into," she added, resting her chin in her palm. "This feels kinda intimate."

Kazumi blinked. "It's turn-based combat."

"Still counts."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

He continued playing, eyes on the screen—but his mind was now very aware of the close proximity. Hanami's perfume—light, almost citrusy—drifted faintly in the air between them.

And then—

"Eh?!"

A startled cry broke the calm.

Kazumi turned his head just in time to see Minami shoot up from her seat on the other side of the classroom, her eyes wide.

She had frozen mid-equation, her pencil having clattered onto her desk. Her gaze locked onto the two sitting side by side at his desk.

Her lips parted in shock. Her chair screeched against the floor as she stood. And without a second of hesitation, she grabbed her own chair and stormed over.

With dramatic flair, she wedged herself into Kazumi's opposite side.

"Hey! That's not fair, Hanami!"

Hanami didn't even blink. "What isn't fair?"

"You took the chance while I was working on math!"

"Well," Hanami replied with a sly grin, "you chose math over Kazumi. That's your loss."

"I didn't choose anything! I was just—ugh!!" Minami waved her arms, then sat down with an aggressive hmph, folding them tightly across her chest.

Kazumi, still calmly tapping buttons, glanced at her with the barest of smirks.

"Is that so?"

Minami narrowed her eyes. That tone. That expression.

He was enjoying this.

"You think I chose math over you, don't you?!"

Kazumi didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained on the game screen, fingers moving with practiced ease. His indifference was almost theatrical.

Minami leaned in closer, her voice lower. "I didn't mean it that way, okay?! I just didn't want to get extra homework."

Only then did Kazumi finally glance at her. He blinked once.

"Hm?"

"W-What?"

He tilted his head just slightly. There was a ghost of amusement on his lips.

"I was just playing a game. What're you freaking out about?"

Minami froze.

The realization hit her like a truck.

She had worked herself into a flustered mess. She had stormed across the classroom, assumed the worst, and now—he was looking at her like she was the weird one.

"…You tricked me!" she snapped, jabbing a finger at his chest.

Kazumi smirked, not even looking up. "I didn't say anything. You assumed."

"You knew what I'd think!"

"Did I?"

"You did! You always do!"

Kazumi simply shrugged, unbothered. "I'm not responsible for how your imagination works."

Minami growled quietly, cheeks puffing.

And then—without warning—she snatched the console from his hands.

"Huh—?"

Kazumi blinked, now staring at empty space.

Minami hugged the console tightly against her chest, like a hard-won prize.

"Nope. You don't get it back," she declared.

"…You're seriously stealing it?"

"Because of that dumb game, I misunderstood and said weird things!"

"You misunderstood on your own."

"Still! That's your fault too!"

Hanami, watching all of this unfold with glittering amusement, giggled behind her hand. "She's not totally wrong."

Kazumi shot her a sideways glance. "Oh, now you're on her side?"

"Only when it's funny," Hanami replied with a wink.

Minami plopped back into her chair beside him and set the console on her lap, just out of his reach.

"You can have it back later. But for now, we're having a real conversation."

Kazumi exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"…Fine."

He leaned back in his seat, resigned to his fate.

Across from him, Hanami rested her chin on her hand, eyes sparkling.

"Look at that. We've tamed the wild Kazumi."

Minami smirked triumphantly. "Finally."

Kazumi eyed both of them with suspicion. "Alright, then. What do you want to talk about?"

Minami didn't hesitate. "First question—what were you really doing during second lunch?"

"Playing games."

"Where?"

He crossed his arms. "Classified."

"Again with the secrets?!"

Hanami smiled. "Ooh, mysterious."

Minami frowned. "If you don't tell us, I'm keeping your console forever."

"You'll forget where you hid it in ten minutes."

Minami opened her mouth to argue—then froze.

"...Tch. New question."

She leaned in, eyes narrowing.

"Do you think that kouhai girl is cute?"

Kazumi blinked slowly. "What kind of question is that?"

"Answer it!"

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

Minami's brow twitched. "What part of her is cute?"

Kazumi thought for a moment.

"Her face. Her height. Her weird honesty. And the expression she makes when I squish her cheeks."

Hanami let out a laugh. "You squished her cheeks?"

Kazumi nodded with zero shame. "Squishiest cheeks I've touched this year."

Minami groaned loudly, practically melting into her chair. "Why do you remember that in detail?!"

"I have a good memory."

"You never say stuff like that about me!"

"Your cheeks aren't squishy."

Minami screamed internally.

Hanami was now full-on laughing, enjoying the chaos far too much. "This is pure gold."

Kazumi, still deadpan, stretched his arms above his head. "Alright. We had your 'real conversation.' Can I have my console back now?"

Minami clutched it tighter. "Nope."

He narrowed his eyes. "Figures."

He turned to Hanami. "Wanna help me get it back?"

She leaned back and crossed her legs. "Nope. This is too entertaining."

Kazumi sighed again. "I need better friends."

Minami grinned. "No you don't. You need us."

Kazumi leaned forward slowly, arms inching toward the console. "Then give me—"

"Nope!"

Minami shot up from her chair, raising the console high above her head like a stolen gem.

Kazumi rose in pursuit, stalking her with slow, deliberate steps, his expression somewhere between resigned and mildly amused.

Hanami laughed so hard she nearly tipped over.

Around them, the classroom buzzed with distant conversations and rustling papers. But for these three, a strange little bubble of noise and laughter had formed—a comfortable chaos all their own.

Eventually, after a few more rounds of teasing and mock-bickering, Minami returned the console with a smug grin.

Kazumi took it back without ceremony.

He opened it. The game resumed with a soft chime.

But this time, he didn't put on his headphones.

And for some reason—

It felt better that way.