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Is this good…? Good enough, really?
I’d been wrestling with my reflection in the mirror for what felt like an hour.
All for the sake of picking an outfit for our date—.
“…Fufufu. I can’t believe I’m getting this excited. I’m starting to embarrass myself.”
I felt a little embarrassed and ended up muttering to myself, but the rest of my mind was still endlessly cycling through outfit combinations.
Wеbnǒv̆ е̄ l̂ Ё n̈ ù m а_
I wasn’t exactly the flashy type, so should I keep it chic…? Or should I reach for that fluffy, girly outfit my mother bought with such misplaced glee—?
…No, there’s no way this would suit me.
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The image of someone who actually looked good in an outfit like that drifted into my mind.
And the boy I was about to meet had spent far more time with her than I ever had.
I wasn’t trying to compete… but it felt wrong to intentionally pick a fight on her home turf.
Besides, I’ve already done my makeup. It’s a little late to change course now.
Е̌n ů m̀а̃. і̀ d́
People often get the wrong idea, but it’s not like I’m uninterested in fashion or makeup.
I’m not obsessed with it, either… I’m just normal.
Well, it’s not like I have enough friends for "often" to even apply, but… alright. This time, I’m committing.
That "often" was mostly just back-channel gossip.
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Remarks like, “Mamiya-san probably isn’t interested in this stuff anyway,” were tossed out like jabs by the popular girls as they flipped through fashion magazines.
It was true I didn’t wear makeup to school, and I didn’t dye my hair.
Ѐ n̄ um̆а̇
I spent my free time reading or studying, so to them, I probably looked like I’d already withered away.
Though no matter how hard I try, the one person who matters—my dear fiancé—won’t notice, so I guess their assessment isn’t wrong.
………All of a sudden, I felt a wave of anxiety. Maybe I really should try a little harder—put in more trial and error.
The boy I was about to meet was someone special.
We’d happened to run into similar trouble, and we’d made a contract. A contract to become a pseudo-couple—a deal that made even me wonder what on earth I was thinking.
But for both of us—and especially for him—it was necessary to keep our hearts from shattering, even if the whole thing was a sham.
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I couldn’t just leave him to suffer alone.
…Or at least, I was certain that’s what I’d once thought.
And yet now, I was painfully aware that I was the one getting swept up in this relationship.
Ever since the midterms ended, I felt as though the distance between our hearts had closed just a little more—and that growing closeness was so comforting that the moment we parted, I was already restless to see him again.
Today was our first day off since the exams finished.
We spoke every day at lunch during school, but since we hadn’t spent any time together afterward lately, this was our first chance to be together for a real stretch of time.
Е̄n̆ úmа̌ . і̂ d
It was a little embarrassing to get this fired up, but I was still a girl, in my own way.
I wanted him to notice the outfit I’d put so much effort into—.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
…Wait, it’s already this late!
I’d gotten carried away and spent far too much time getting ready. If I didn’t leave right this second, I was going to be late!
I grabbed my bag and hurried out of my room.
“I’m leaving!”
Ѐ ǹ um̈ а. id
Even today, both my parents were working on their day off.
And my big brother—who always had something to say—was living on his own.
My greeting echoed hollowly through the empty house.
But it didn't bother me at all—I was, quite impressively, practically floating with excitement.
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◆
“Morning, Mamiya-san—no, Sachika.”
Е́ n ũ mа .і ḋ.
As expected, Amou was already there, waiting at our meeting spot ahead of schedule.
I’d only just made it… and knowing him, he’d probably been waiting here for ages.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“No, you’re right on time.”
He smiled like he always did, then let his gaze sweep quickly from my head to my toes—
“That dress really suits you. You look cute, Sachika.”
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“—!!”
He just said it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his expression perfectly calm.
He’d sounded much more surprised before… and for some reason, that made me a little annoyed.
Amou must have sensed my mood, because his eyes suddenly went wide.
“S-sorry! Was that… maybe overstepping!?”
“Yeah. Yellow card—”
Е̊ n̊ ú m.а .і́ d̈
“Eek.”
“…I-I’ll let it slide. You did compliment me, after all.”
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I felt my cheeks flush and cleared my throat.
I knew it. It wasn’t his fault.
This was on me—pure, one-hundred-percent, unadulterated embarrassment.
I mean, I’d been hoping for it, just a little. I knew that if it were him, he’d definitely find something to praise.
Е̂ ň.um̂ а.ǐ ď
I’d made it a loose goal for today… and I’d checked it off just like that.
“Amou, you look good too.”
“Y-you think so? Thanks.”
Amou scratched his cheek, looking embarrassed.
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He was on the smaller side for a boy. If I were judging purely by looks, the word “cute” fit him perfectly… though I wasn’t about to say that out loud.
For me, the only boy I’d ever been close to was my fiancé, Shibaki Soichi.
Web̆ n̈о v̇е̇ l̆ Е̇n u ḿ а
He was tall and broad-supported, with a solid build—if you measured “manliness” by some generic societal template, he’d probably score higher.
But if I took a step back and actually thought about it—
How much did that kind of “manliness” really matter to me?
Was it strength, maybe? The kind that could protect me from an enemy?
But… Amou had stood up to Soichi—someone bigger than him, someone who represented a deep trauma. He’d done it to protect me.
The sight of his back in that moment had seemed so dependable, so large—
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“…Sachika? H-hey, what is it? Do I have something on my face?”
Amou’s puzzled voice snapped me back to myself.
I’d gotten lost in my own head. I must have been staring at him so intently that I made him nervous.
“It’s nothing. I was just thinking.”
“O-oh. Okay.”
“Then let’s go.”
Ӗn ù m̌ ă_
“Ah—yeah.”
I pushed the conversation forward before I let anything slip.
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There wasn’t any particular objective for today’s outing—no, today’s date.
Given how thoroughly my brother had mocked us the day midterms ended, we’d decided to avoid making plans and just wander.
—Real couples, y’know, they’re happy just being together, right?
I didn’t love that I’d taken the bait, but… somehow, I felt like it would be fine as long as I was with Amou.
Еn ú m̀ã
Still, both Amou and I preferred having at least a loose plan in these situations. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say we’d been tossed into the deep end.
“…Amou. Is there anywhere you want to go?”
Right away, I asked—lightly, like I was talking about the weather.
Amou looked at me like, Huh?
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
“I mean, there is… but does that still count as having ‘no plan’?”
“Hmm… If we’re walking around and we just happen to arrive at the place you want to go, then I think that barely qualifies as ‘no plan.’”
Еṅ um а̌
“Ehh…”
“So even if you casually start walking in the general direction of your destination, I’ll pretend not to notice.”
It was an obvious excuse. I almost laughed at myself.
But I didn’t know where Amou wanted to go, and letting him subtly guide me didn’t feel like breaking the rules… it was more like exploiting a loophole.
“…Well, if that’s how we’re doing it, then sure. But do you have somewhere you want to go, Sachika? Prioritizing me is…”
“Not really. Or rather, it’d be more accurate to say I came here trying not to think about it. In my case, I’d end up steering us a lot more obviously, and then I’d get completely stuck in my own head.”
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Even I knew I wasn't particularly good at being flexible. I was too serious.
But there was one lie mixed into what I’d just said.
(If you’re asking whether there’s a place I want to go… there is.)
I told him that in my heart, but I didn’t say it out loud.
Because if I admitted it…
This was one of my bad habits.
Е̄ǹ ùm̂ ā. і d̀
I was embarrassed.
Embarrassed to just say it plainly.
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With Amou lightly taking the lead, we walked—truly without a destination.
It was almost lunchtime, so we’d stop in front of whatever lunch-menu sign caught our eye, then trade a few spur-of-the-moment comments.
And honestly… it wasn’t bad at all.
There’s that common question: “If you were going to a deserted island, what would you bring?”
Е n̂ u̇ m̊ ā
Answers vary, but I’m the type who ranks “a map” pretty high. I like to plan things properly before I move. I don’t want to waste time. I don’t want to fail… I know that about myself.
But maybe that wasn’t the whole story.
This walk with Amou wasn't anything “special.” If you turned it into an anecdote, it would be nothing at all. We just picked whatever caught our eye and made casual conversation.
What I learned was simple: Amou liked fish more than meat. He didn't mind vegetables, but he clearly wasn't good with aromatic herbs.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
The way his cheeks stiffened when I showed interest in a cilantro-focused restaurant was cute enough to blow away any guilt I had about teasing him.
Little by little—through chance and feel—I learned new things about him, and each time, I felt a small spark of happiness, a sense of accomplishment.
W̌ еḃn̊ о̀v̈ е l̈ Е̇n ǔ m ã
It wasn’t like walking while following a map.
It felt like filling in the blank spaces of a white map myself—one mark at a time.
I wanted to know more. But I didn’t want to rush.
Slowly, carefully—filling it in with my own feet.
(Does Amou feel the same way?)
The more I learned about him, the more he learned about me.
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This applied to everything from food preferences to... well, other things. It was embarrassing, sure, but the feeling wasn't unwelcome.
I had a fiancé... strictly speaking, I still did. But I'd never spent time like this with him.
Every single moment of this was a first for me.
“Sachika?”
Reflexively, I squeezed his hand.
It wasn't large or bony—just a smooth, comforting warmth in his palm.
Еn̄ ūmа .íd̆
“There’s nothing weird about it. I’m your girlfriend, remember?”
“Y-yeah… I guess so.”
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His cheeks flushed a deep red.
His sense of personal space was bizarre—he’d grab my hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world, yet when I took the initiative, he suddenly got flustered.
As for me, I was summoning every ounce of courage just to do it.
“All right, we should find somewhere to eat. Staring at all these menus has actually made me hungry.”
Ŵе̇ b̊ n о v̆е l Eń u̇ ḿа̃
“Agreed. But it needs to be somewhere accessible for a couple of high schoolers…”
Once we accounted for our budgets and the general vibe, our options narrowed significantly.
We traded suggestions until we eventually settled on a perfectly ordinary family restaurant.
I went with pasta while he ordered doria, and we added a pizza to share along with a large salad.
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I don't usually eat much, but all that walking had left me famished.
Still, I worried it might not be enough for a guy like Amou.
E n̂ ům а̌
“If that’s not enough, don’t hesitate to order more, okay?”
“Heh. You sound like a mom.”
“Do I? Well, usually that’s the kind of thing you’d say to a hardworking father—”
I cut myself off, a jolt running through me.
Amou had meant it as a mother talking to her child.
But I had just cast Amou as the "father"... which made me the mother, and—
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
“Uh...”
I found myself imagining it despite the lack of any real reason to. What it would be like if he and I actually had that kind of relationship.
When I looked up, Amou had turned away, clearly awkward. Even his ears were red.
“…Th-then maybe I’ll get something else.”
“Y-yes. Good idea.”
I lunged at the opportunity to change the subject.
Е̇n̂ũm ǎ . і́ d̈
I nodded and watched him return to the menu, my mind drifting as I studied his profile.
With Soichi, I could never visualize a future together... but with Amou, it felt so easy to imagine.
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◇
After lunch, we crossed the street to a stationery shop.
The slight tension in Amou's voice when he suggested it gave him away—this had been his goal from the start.
He’s surprisingly easy to read if you’re paying attention.
Е̃ ň u mа . іd
He led me directly to the mechanical pencils.
“Hunting for a new pencil?”
“Huh? O-oh… am I that transparent?”
Amou gave a wry smile, his shoulders drooping.
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“I’ve been using the same one since middle school, you see.”
“Oh, you mean that bulky one.”
Ёnùmа . і d
“It’s standard size. Technically.”
The pencil he used was... a bit on the thick side.
Come to think of it, I remembered those being a trend among boys back in middle school. Realizing Amou was a trend-follower too was strangely adorable.
“Remember when we studied the other day? The pencil you were using—it looked really cool.”
“Did it? I thought it was pretty ordinary.”
“Maybe it just looked cool because you were the one using it.”
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Okay. Yellow card.
“My goal is to transfer into the advanced class. I figured if I’m going to commit to that, I should get myself motivated—so I thought a new pencil might help.”
...All right. I’ll take the yellow card back.
I hadn't expected him to take my offhand comment from the other day so seriously.
A familiar warmth squeezed my chest, and I could feel a grin threatening to break through.
“…Fine. Then I’ll be the one to pick it out for you.”
Ӗ_n u m̈а. іd
“Huh?”
“That’ll be more motivating, won't it?”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
The words slipped out before I could think, but Amou nodded with total sincerity.
“That’s true.”
“I was actually thinking of getting a new pencil case while I'm at it, but—”
“Perfect. Then we’ll just replace the entire set.”
Wе b̈ ňŏ v̈ е l̆ Е̊ n.ūm а̊
Somehow, this was turning out to be a lot of fun.
I realized I was getting a bit ahead of myself as the suggestion left my lips.
“Since we’re doing this… why don’t I get one too? We can have matching sets.”
“Wha—!?”
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“It’s fine, right? We’re in different classes, so nobody will notice.”
That didn’t matter.
Е̌ n̄ u̇.m̊а̀ . і d
What mattered was the visible connection—the knowledge that Amou and I would be using the same set.
Studying was a lonely endeavor. Spend enough time alone at a desk, and a sense of emptiness could strike out of nowhere.
But if I could feel Amou’s presence even in those moments… it would be reassuring.
I had never thought this way before.
Ever since I met Amou, I’d been forced to constantly confront my own weaknesses.
“…If you’re sure you’re not overextending yourself, Sachika… then I’d like that too.”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
“Then it’s decided.”
Dismissing his clear concern for my budget, I nodded.
“In that case, I’m not picking everything out for you. If we’re matching, we should choose them together.”
“O-okay. Just… don’t expect me to have much taste…”
“That goes for me too.”
After all, the pen and pencil case I used now were hand-me-downs from my brother.
W еb̃ ṅоv̇е.l Е ñ.um̌а̇
I wasn't particularly picky about stationery, either. But if it was something I chose with Amou, I felt like I could treasure it.
“Then… how about this? I think it would suit you, Sachika.”
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Amou selected a mechanical pencil that was fairly expensive for a student.
The design was simple yet felt high-quality, the refined black giving it a sophisticated presence.
It might have been a bit too mature, but if Amou thought it suited me, that alone made me happy.
“Amou, write something with it.”
W е̃ ḃn ō v е̌l̂ Е̄ ṅ ú m а̀
I had him test it on the memo paper provided for trial scribbles.
What I really wanted to see was the way he looked when he wrote.
“…How is it?”
“Yes. It matches your simple style—and it looks cool.”
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“Ghk!? Th-thank you…”
He flinched at the compliment that had slipped out so directly.
Ĕń_u m a
If anything, that was probably my yellow card… though, no, it was fine. Amou really had looked cool just now.
“Then this one’s decided. Two thousand yen… that seems about right.”
“Y-yeah.”
He’d chosen it himself, only to realize the price after the fact. Still, it was a long-term investment—hardly too expensive.
If anything, the price might encourage him to take better care of it. With that calculation in mind, I placed two of the pencils into the basket. Purchase confirmed.
“Next is the pencil case.”
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I used to think a pencil case could be anything as long as it held pens—but I could hardly say that now after buying such a nice pencil.
There was no one to show off to, but if Amou was going to be carrying it, that made it matter even more.
“Hmm…”
As if he were thinking the same thing, Amou rested a hand on his chin and mulled it over seriously.
I hesitated for a moment before trusting my intuition. I wanted something that would suit Amou… something I’d be happy to see him carry.
“How about this one?”
Е̂ńu̇ ḿä
The pencil case I chose was black, matching the mechanical pencil. It had some weight to it, and the dark color wouldn't show wear easily, making it perfect for long-term use.
And it was leather. It had a nice sense of quality without being overly expensive.
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Something a high schooler could carry without it feeling out of place—perhaps a bit of a splurge.
“Huh… that might actually be cool.”
And it seemed Amou liked it, too.
The price was… a little cheaper than the mechanical pencil. Well, that was fine.
Wе̄bń o̊v̀.еl̄ _Е ň ūm̀ ä
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I brought my New Year’s money.”
When I asked just in case, Amou answered with a smile.
It seemed he’d come prepared today—both financially and mentally.
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Which meant he really was aiming for the advanced class with me next year—
“Mmhm.”
W еḃ nov е l̄ Е n úm̂а
“What is it, Sachika?”
“Nothing… I just thought I’d give you a pass on the yellow card today.”
“Wait, I did something again!?”
Ah. He really was unfair.
The way he hit all my weak spots so effortlessly… if that wasn’t a foul, then what was?
◇
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With Amou’s mission successfully completed, we were back to being completely planless.
And yet I wasn’t bored at all. Even familiar things—things I probably wouldn’t have cared about if I were alone—kept catching my interest.
Sometimes we held hands, and sometimes we didn’t. Sometimes our shoulders brushed… and sometimes they didn’t.
My heart would race... and did I make his race, too?
Moments like those felt so comfortable that my steps grew light before I even realized it.
And for that matter, my wallet felt a little lighter, too.
W̊e b̃ ṅ о̇ v̂еl̆ Еn̄ ù m̌а
“Sachika, what did you buy?”
Amou asked curiously, eyeing the bag I’d just picked up.
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It was something that had caught my eye when we stopped by a drugstore—not something I’d usually buy, but today I’d felt like it.
“Lip balm.”
What I’d bought was lip balm. I used balm regularly for moisture, but this one was a little different—it was scented.
I wouldn't wear anything tinted to school—not because of the rules, but because of my own principles—but a scent was within acceptable limits.
Еnǔ mӓ
“Oh, a scent… what kind?”
Amou followed up, showing genuine interest in my explanation.
As I was about to answer, a mischievous idea took root.
“Wait a second.”
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I turned my back on him with those words.
Opening the bag they’d just sealed for me, I tore the wrapper off the balm and applied a light coat… before turning back around.
Е́ n̈ú m а
“How is it?”
“…Uh?”
Amou tilted his head, looking confused.
Well, of course he couldn't. It wasn’t tinted, so he wouldn’t be able to tell. I’d applied some this morning, too, though it had likely worn off during our time together.
But what mattered was the scent. I’d only applied a little, but the fragrance was definitely there.
“Here. Go on.”
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I stood right in front of him and pouted, puckering my lips toward him.
“Wha—!?”
Amou’s eyes widened, totally flustered.
If he wanted to know what it smelled like, the fastest way was to take a sniff.
So it wasn’t wrong… I told myself, clinging to that flimsy excuse even as my cheeks softened into a grin.
Color flooded Amou’s face; unable to endure the embarrassment, he turned his head away.
W̆ е_bn̈о̀ vel Е n ùm а
Our relationship was that of boyfriend and girlfriend… and yet it was still fundamentally different from what people normally meant by “a couple.”
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This was a contract, after all. A way to patch over each other’s wounds—one that would likely be dissolved the moment either of us found someone we truly loved.
So even if we held hands, or linked arms and laughed together, we were never meant to go beyond that.
That was what I believed…
…Huh?
Е ňu m̄ а
(This is kind of contradictory.)
I’d teased him because I thought there was no risk.
I’d mimicked the gesture of asking for a kiss, convinced he wouldn’t actually follow through…
(…No.)
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There was no such guarantee.
Even if we called it a “contract,” it wasn’t as if there were rigid rules or penalties defining exactly what our relationship could or couldn’t be.
E n̊um̂ а̄
If Amou had wanted to… if he’d taken just one step closer, he could have stolen a kiss in an instant.
And then I would’ve gotten mad at him…
No. That wasn’t it.
I was the one who provoked him, and if I claimed I’d never once imagined a future where we did something like that, I’d be lying—
“Ah…”
I realized it. I realized it completely.
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What I’d done earlier really had carried no risk for me.
It was simple.
Because somewhere deep down, I’d already decided I would be okay with Amou kissing me.
Maybe I was only becoming conscious of it now—but the truth was, I’d been ready to accept it for a long time—
“—!!”
Heat flooded my face all at once.
W̃ е̇ b̊n ò vӗ l̇ Е́ n̆ ù m̆а̃
My relationship with him was a contract. A relationship that would likely end someday.
I’d compartmentalized it. I understood it—or at least, I was supposed to… and yet, what I really felt was…!?
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“N-no. That’s not it…!”
As I floundered, realizing that the distance between us had closed far more than I’d thought, Amou looked at me with an exasperated, heavy-lidded expression.
“Don’t tell me you’re only realizing it now?”
No, you dense idiot!
Е n ům̄а.іd
Amou had to be thinking something like, “She only just realized her ‘smell my lip balm’ move looked like she was asking for a kiss,” all carefree and oblivious.
That wasn’t it. I’d known that from the start.
What I hadn’t realized was…
“～～～～～～!!”
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Ugh, but there was no way I could say it out loud!
Something like that—like wanting to turn a lie into something real, even if it was just in the heat of the moment… and I still hadn’t even broken off my engagement…!!
Eṅu mӑ
“I-it’s nothing! Come on—let’s go!”
I cut him off, grabbed his hand, and started walking.
I was so embarrassed I thought my face might explode.
Of course, it wasn’t something I could just brush off that easily—but Amou, completely misunderstanding the situation, only gave me an exasperated little smile.
Still prickly and flustered, I kept walking aimlessly, my fingers unconsciously threading through his—
And I was sure of it: every time I caught the scent of this vanilla, I would remember this heat.
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