Altered reality

"Sorry if this is a bit sudden," Yuka's voice broke the silence, her expression unreadable as she glanced at him. "Is the girl sitting next to you... your girlfriend?"

They were on their way to Yuka's house after school, for their study session, as she had insisted they meet there instead of at the library.

Hayato was stunned, caught completely off guard by the question. His gaze snapped to Yuka, his voice slightly flustered. "Eh? O-of course not! Why would you even think that?" he quickly denied, though he couldn't help but admit, that was indeed sudden.

Yuka hesitated for a moment, her eyes briefly shifting away before she spoke again. "I mean, everyone saw how close you two were... You even hand-fed her."

"You were watching?" Hayato blurted out, only to quickly shake his head and correct himself. "No, I mean... I was just getting back at her for teasing me. There's nothing like that between us."

His initial question felt foolish the moment it left his lips. After all, something like that was hard to miss. But then again, this was Yuka. Normally, she wouldn't pay attention to things like that. So what had made her this time?

"But you seemed so natural about it. Do you have a lot of experience with girls?" Yuka asked, her curious gaze fixed on him.

Now, that was a serious question. Counting both his previous world and this one, the total number of girls Hayato had dated would be... zero. Not a single one. Yet, as a man, there was no way he could admit that. Swallowing nervously, he forced a laugh. "Haha, o-of course! I've dated plenty of girls," he replied, plastering on a fake proud smile to mask his embarrassment.

Yuka didn't miss a beat. "Then why did you said you were awkward around girls back then? Was that some sort of pick-up line?" she retorted, her sharp gaze locking onto him.

Checkmate. Hayato froze, realizing he'd been ensnared in his own web of words. His fake confidence shattered under Yuka's unrelenting gaze as he scrambled for an explanation. But no excuses came—except the tears of defeat.

With a hint of self-pity, he confessed, "I'm sorry. I lied. I've never dated anyone, nor have I ever had a girlfriend. Honestly... I've never even held a girl's hand under normal circumstances." His voice trailed off, his pride utterly deflated.

Yuka listened to his confession, her expression unreadable. After a brief pause, she softly replied, "I... see."

She fell silent after that, her gaze shifting forward as if deep in thought. The quiet between them grew heavier, leaving Hayato unsure of what she was thinking.

"Takahashi, are you sure your parents don't need any help? There are a lot of customers, just like before," Hayato asked, glancing at the steady stream of people entering their restaurant as they arrived at her house.

"Don't worry, they hired two more part-timers," Yuka replied casually as they made their way through the narrow alley once again, heading toward the backdoor of her house.

"You go up first," Yuka instructed, her voice steady as she turned toward the kitchen, likely to let her family know she was home.

Hayato nodded and made his way upstairs as she asked. A few minutes later, Yuka returned with a tray in her hands with tea and rice crackers.

They got started, and Yuka asked, "So, what subject do you need my help with?"

In truth, Hayato didn't actually need her help with studying. But what could he do now? He had to go along with it. He chose math—his weakest subject. While he already knew all the formulas in the first-year textbook, this world's curriculum had some differences, introducing concepts he hadn't encountered before. Rather than figuring them out on his own, he decided it wouldn't hurt to rely on Yuka's help on that.

"Hmm? You're actually quite sharp. You pick things up really quickly," Yuka remarked, her tone laced with surprise.

Time had flown by since they started studying, and Hayato was already solving every problem after Yuka explained it just once. Her compliment was genuine, but it also made her wonder—did Hayato even need her help? If he was this quick to understand, he should've scored much higher on the entrance exam... so why hadn't he? The thought lingered in her mind as she watched him work.

Hayato noticed the suspicion in Yuka's gaze and decided to dial back the pace at which he was solving the problems. He needed to play along for at least a few days before he could put an end to this hellish study.

Seriously, studying was boring as hell—how did people even enjoy it? Yet, despite the monotony, sitting across from a beautiful girl like Yuka made the experience somewhat bearable. Her presence, in a way, was oddly comforting, even if it couldn't make math any less tedious.

"Takahashi, can you explain this one?" Hayato asked, deciding to stick to his plan and act a little clueless.

Instead of leaning over the table to look at his book, Yuka stood up and moved to sit beside him. "Which one?" she asked, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear in a casual motion.

The sudden proximity caught Hayato off guard, and without thinking, he shifted slightly, putting a small amount of distance between them. It wasn't much, but enough to betray his unease.

Hayato shook his head inwardly, trying to steady himself. "T-this one," he said, pointing to the question with his pen.

"Oh, this? It's actually very simple," Yuka replied as she began explaining. However, as she leaned in closer, Hayato noticed the gap he had created between them was gone. Her presence felt even more overwhelming now, and to his utter bad luck—or perhaps good luck—he could feel a soft sensation pressing against his arm.

There was absolutely no way he could focus on what she was saying, not that it mattered.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Yuka asked, noticing Hayato's distraction.

Her eyes fell on his face, and her brows furrowed in concern. "Wait, your face is red. Are you feeling unwell?" she asked, her tone filled with genuine worry, completely oblivious to the fact that she was the cause of his flustered state.

"N-no, I'm okay," Hayato stammered, his voice unsteady. "I-it's just... you're a bit too close."

He avoided her gaze, his embarrassment clear as he subtly tried to lean away again, though it did little to ease the situation.

Yuka paused, a hint of hesitation crossing her face. "Was it... unpleasant?" she murmured under her breath, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

"Huh? What was that?" Hayato asked, not quite catching her words.

Yuka quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks slightly flushed. "It's nothing," she said hurriedly. "I just said... I'm sorry."

Hayato caught a glimpse of her face and noticed a faint hint of red coloring her cheeks. It was subtle, but it was definitely there. He froze, stunned. 'Yuka, blushing?'

Sure, in the anime, there were moments when she'd blush, but here... there shouldn't have been anything to cause it. Was it because her chest had brushed against his arm? But that didn't seem right—Yuka wasn't the type to get flustered over something so trivial.

'As I thought, something is definitely wrong with her today,' Hayato thought, unable to shake the growing worry gnawing at him.

"Takahashi," Hayato called out firmly, his voice louder than usual. Without thinking, he suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand tightly.

Yuka flinched at the unexpected touch and instinctively turned to face him. But before she could say anything, her breath hitched—his face was impossibly close to hers, his worried eyes locking onto hers.

"Are you alright? You seem kind of off today," he asked, his voice loud and filled with concern. And when I say close, I mean dengerously close, the kind of proximity that would make anyone's heart race.

Yuka couldn't find the words to respond, her mind drifting into a haze. Even she knew she was acting strange today, but how could Hayato tell? He had only met her a few days ago. Was he paying that much attention to her, noticing how she usually behaved?

The thought crossed her mind—"Was he really stalking me everywhere like everyone says?" The idea sent a slight shiver down her spine, but oddly enough, it didn't feel as unsettling as it should. In fact, there was something strangely comforting about the thought of Hayato keeping an eye on her. She couldn't quite understand why, but for some reason, the idea didn't seem so bad.

'Wait, no... what was I thinking?' Yuka snapped back to reality, her mind clearing as she refocused on what was in front of her—Hayato's face, much too close.

Without thinking, she instinctively stood up, grabbed his hand, and with a swift motion, twisted her body and threw him to the ground.

The moment the throw was complete, Yuka's eyes widened in shock. Realizing what she had done, she immediately rushed to his side, lifting him gently with her arm.

"A-Amane, are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that..."

Hayato winced slightly—that throw hurt. As expected from a black belt in judo. But despite the pain, a small part of him couldn't help but enjoy the softness pressing against his face right now. For this moment alone, the pain is worth it.

They decided to end their study session there, and after Hayato had recovered, he prepared to take his leave. Yuka, still apologizing for throwing him, offered to walk him to the door.

"Oh, you're leaving already?"

As Hayato reached the bottom of the stairs, he was greeted by Yuka's grandma standing at the foot of them. The sight of her instantly reminded him of something he needed to say.

"Oh, right! Grandma, thank you so much for the lunchbox. It was so delicious, I can't even express how much I enjoyed it," Hayato said with a sincere smile. He wasn't exaggerating in the least; the meal truly had been exceptional.

"Lunchbox?" Grandma muttered, clearly confused at first. But then, her keen old eyes caught sight of Yuka, who visibly flinched at the mention of it. A knowing grin spread across her face as she pieced everything together. 'How cute', she thought, finding Yuka's embarrassed behavior adorable.

"Yes, right," Grandma replied, playing along with Yuka's little lie. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." Her tone was gentle, though her eyes twinkled with amusement as she watched her granddaughter squirm.

With a mischievous smile, Grandma glanced at Yuka before turning back to Hayato. "Just a hypothetical question," she added, her tone light but teasing, "If your future wife can cook like this, how would that make you feel, Amane-kun?"

Yuka's face turned more red, and she quickly shifted her gaze to the floor, clearly mortified.

Meanwhile, Hayato, unaware of Yuka's flustered expression behind him, scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Let's see..." he mused aloud, "I guess I'd be over the moon for her. I mean, to have such a delicious meal like that every day after a long day of work? That would be heaven."

As he spoke, Yuka froze, her face turning even redder than before. It was as if every word Hayato said was another nail in her coffin. She was dying of embarrassment, and Hayato, completely oblivious, continued to speak his honest thoughts, not realizing the impact they were having on her.

Grandma, seeing how much Yuka was blushing and on the verge of exploding, decided to stop the teasing before it went too far. With a kind smile, she said, "I see, I pray you find such a girl."

Hayato, still completely unaware of the storm he had caused, nodded and thanked Grandma again for the lunch before heading for the door. Yuka, now trying to regain her composure, avoided looking him in the eye as he left.

As Hayato made his way back to his house, he couldn't help but reflect on the day.

Later that night, Yuka sat at her study table, her textbooks open before her. Normally, this would be her focus, but tonight her mind was elsewhere, completely consumed by thoughts of Hayato.

She replayed the day's events over and over again. His worried expression when he noticed she was acting strange. The way he stood up for her without hesitation and how she'd never even thanked him for that. His bashful face every time he felt embarrassed—so uncharacteristically genuine.

And then there were his words. "I would be head over Moon for her," he had said, praising her cooking without knowing it was hers. The remark echoed in her head, making her heart skip a beat each time.

But as much as those moments flustered her, other thoughts left a bitter taste in her mouth. The image of him laughing and joking with the girl who sat beside him in class. How they seemed so close, leaning into each other, her playfully poking his face, and worst of all, the sight of Hayato feeding her—her handmade lunch—without a second thought.

Yuka clenched her fist, frustration bubbling within her. She had made that lunch for him, hoping to repay her growing debt to him in small ways. Yet, she hadn't been able to tell him the truth and had even roped her grandma into her lie. And what had he done? He'd shared *her* lunch with another girl, with his own hands.

She didn't it—the frustration bubbling inside her, the unease gnawing at her chest. But what frustrated her even more was that she couldn't understand why she felt this way. What were these unfamiliar emotions swirling within her?

Yuka let out a weary sigh, realizing that tonight she isn't getting any study done. With a resigned motion, she closed her textbook and collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Whatever these feelings were, they were disruptive, unsettling, and entirely unwelcome.

"I need to get rid of them," she muttered to herself. Whatever this was, it was nothing but a nuisance to her—and she refused to let it get in her way.

-------

Today Hayato overslept, something rare but not entirely impossible. It threw his routine into disarray, forcing him to skip his usual morning exercise and rush straight to school. As he hurriedly prepared himself and bolted out the door, he couldn't help but grumble about how the day was already off to a chaotic start.

Fortunately, Hayato managed to reach school just in time. As he stepped into the classroom, his gaze first fall on Yuka. Their eyes met briefly, and it seemed like she was about to say something, but she quickly turned her head away, avoiding his gaze.

Shrugging it off, Hayato made his way to his desk, only to notice a couple of girls gathered around Misaki, each of them a looker and fashionable. They were so absorbed in their conversation that they didn't even notice him approaching.

"This is why we told you not to get too close to that guy," one of them said, her tone carrying a hint of frustration.

"Yeah, and now because you said you're friends with him, they're targeting you too," another chimed in, her words laced with concern.

They are likely talking about Hayato, his brows furrowed at their words. Targeting? He felt a pang of confusion and unease.

It didn't take long for Hayato to understand what they were talking about. His eyes fell on his desk, now covered in scribbled curses and littered with trash—pieces of paper, plastic, and other debris scattered across it. It was all too familiar, a clear sign of typical bullying behavior.

Misaki's desk wasn't much better. He noticed her wiping off ink stains with a cloth, trying to clean the marks from the surface.

The situation was painfully clear. Someone was targeting him, and Misaki had been caught in the crossfire simply because she appeared to be close to him. But then, why had Yuka been spared? Her status and influence in the class made her untouchable for such cowardly antics.

Considering yesterday's events, it wasn't hard to piece together the culprits. Sudo wouldn't stoop to something this low in broad daylight—not when he wanted to maintain his popularity. But he could easily have someone else do his dirty work. And the perfect candidate, someone with a grudge against him, was none other than the girl who had insulted Yuka.

Hayato's eyes flicked to Sudo and the girl. They were both smirking, clearly relishing in the enjoyment of their little work. The sight only confirmed his suspicions.

'So, this is their plan? To ruin my school life?'

A silent chuckle escaped his lips. 'Really....how cute.'

They weren't the first to pull such a stunt. Hayato had dealt with far worse in his past, and if they thought this was enough to break him, they are really naive.

Hayato approached his desk with an almost indifferent expression, completely unaffected by the scene unfolding around him. The girls talking to Misaki finally took notice of him, their face twisting in anger.

"Hey, you! Look what she's going through because of you!" one of them spat, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Yeah, really. If you consider her your friend, don't drag her into your mess," another chimed in, trying to sound righteous.

But Hayato wasn't going to let them lecture him, especially when it came to the topic of friendship. From everything he'd seen in the anime, he couldn't bring himself to stand these girls. He never had a friend before, but even he could tell that they are not Misaki's friends.

"Stop it," he said, his voice calm but sharp. "You guys are taking friendship too lightly. Forget about me—if you really consider her your friend, why not stand up to the ones who did this instead of lecturing me?"

The words hit like a slap, freezing the girls in place. Their faces twisted in hesitation as they stammered.

"That's…"

They faltered, their voices lacking conviction. Of course, they wouldn't stand up for Misaki. The girl responsible for this was backed by Sudo, a popular student with plenty of influence. If these girls even dared to oppose her, they'd become the next targets, marked as outcasts.

Hayato couldn't help the bitterness that rose within him. :This is the limit of their so-called friendship? How pathetic.

Ignoring them, Hayato turned his attention to Misaki. Her head was down, her expression hidden, but the sadness in her posture was unmistakable. It didn't suit her at all. Seeing her like this stirred something uncomfortable within him—a pang of guilt.

"Kojima," he said softly, his voice filled with regret. "I'm really sorry."

Misaki looked up, forcing a smile, though it barely masked her hurt. "No, it's okay. It's not like you did it."

But her words didn't make him feel any better. If anything, the sight of her trying to brush it off made him feel worse. This was probably her first time dealing with something like this, and he couldn't help but blame himself for dragging her into it.

"Then at least let me do this," he said, his tone resolute. "Let me take care of the trash. It's the least I can do."

Without waiting for a reply, he began gathering the garbage from both his desk and Misaki's. He didn't hesitate or flinch as he collected the crumpled papers and wrappers, piling them up in his hands, there were quite a lot.

The classroom was silent as he walked across to the dustbin near the blackboard, the eyes of his classmates following him.

The girl sitting in the front row couldn't hide her glee, her grin widening with each step Hayato took toward the trash bin. She was practically trembling with excitement, and Sudo wasn't any better, his smug expression clear as day.

However, just as Hayato reached near her desk, he "tripped". In a clumsy stumble, all the trash he'd been carrying fell, scattering directly onto the girl sitting there.

"You asshole! What the hell have you done?!" she shrieked, her face twisting in fury as bits of paper and wrappers clung to her hair and uniform.

Hayato immediately scrambled to his feet, his face plastered with an apologetic expression. "I-I'm so sorry!" he stammered, his tone loud and dripping with mock sincerity. "It's just… I couldn't handle the shock of someone doing this to me. My legs gave out."His hand dramatically flew to his forehead as if he were in a tragic play.

"Though," he added, his voice growing contemplative, "this does remind me of an old story. Ever heard of Chirizuka Kaiō? The demon that returns trash to its rightful owners?"

The class fell silent, everyone staring at Hayato, who was now smiling boardly, "Haha, just kidding."

His gaze, however, slowly turned sharp as he looked down at her. "These trashes couldn't possibly be yours... right?" he asked, his tone light yet edged with steel.

His eyes bore into her, cold and piercing, and the smug expression she'd been wearing moments ago is nowhere to be seen. For a moment, the girl looked frozen in fear.