More than a Married Couple but not Lovers

The classroom smells like chalk dust and nervous energy, a scent I've come to associate with the chaos of Ohananomitsu High School. I'm slouched at my desk near the back, my pencil scratching aimless loops in the margins of my notebook. My blue hair flops into my eyes, a convenient curtain to hide behind. Around me, my classmates are a buzzing hive of whispers and laughter, their excitement practically vibrating the walls. They're all talking about the Marriage Practical, this absurd program our school's cooked up for third-years. A "practical" to teach us how to be married, as if we're not still figuring out how to survive high school. The idea of living with someone, pretending to be a couple, makes my stomach churn. I'm not exactly Mr. Social Skills, and the thought of playing house with a stranger feels like a nightmare I can't wake up from.My eyes drift to Shiori Sakurazaka, three rows ahead, two desks to the left. Her auburn hair catches the sunlight streaming through the window, and my chest tightens. Shiori's been my friend since we were kids, the only person who ever looked at me like I mattered. Her smile is soft, like it could fix everything wrong with the world, and I've been in love with her for so long I can't remember what it's like not to be. I've never told her, though. The words always get stuck, heavy and useless in my throat. This Marriage Practical pairs us randomly, but I can't help hoping—praying, really—that fate will give me a break for once. If I could be paired with Shiori, maybe I'd finally find the courage to say what I've been holding back all these years.Ms. Tanaka, our teacher, claps her hands, her voice slicing through the chatter like a knife. "Quiet down! It's time to announce the pairs for the Marriage Practical." The room goes still, except for a few nervous giggles. My heart's pounding so hard I'm sure everyone can hear it. I grip my pencil, smudging the doodle of a lopsided star under my palm. Names are called, one after another, each pair met with gasps or groans. I barely hear them, my mind fixed on one name. Shiori Sakurazaka and… My breath catches. "Shiori Sakurazaka and Minami Tenjin."It's like the air's been sucked out of the room. Minami Tenjin. The guy every girl in school seems to fawn over, with his perfect smile and effortless charm. I glance at him, sitting near the front, looking like he doesn't have a care in the world. Shiori's expression is calm, unreadable, but my brain's already spiraling. Is she happy about this? Does she like him? The thought of her living with Minami, laughing with him, makes my chest ache like it's being squeezed in a vise. Before I can process it, Ms. Tanaka's voice cuts through again. "Jirō Yakuin and Akari Watanabe."The name hits me like a slap. Akari Watanabe? My eyes dart to her across the room, where she's surrounded by her usual posse of friends. Her pink hair is impossible to miss, bright and bold like the rest of her. She's a gyaru, all makeup and confidence, the kind of girl who owns every room she walks into. Her gaze meets mine, and the look she gives me—sharp, almost disgusted—makes my face burn. Of all the people in this class, why her? Akari's the opposite of me in every way. She's loud, popular, always surrounded by people, while I'm just… me. Invisible, awkward Jirō, who'd rather fade into the wallpaper than stand in the spotlight.Ms. Tanaka drones on about the rules. We're supposed to live together, act like a married couple, and get judged on how well we pull it off. There's an app—some Marriage Practical tracker—that monitors everything: cooking, cleaning, even "affectionate behavior," whatever that means. Points decide our rank, and the top ten pairs can swap partners if both couples agree. That last part catches my attention, like a lifeline tossed into a stormy sea. A swap. A way to be with Shiori. But to get there, I have to make this work with Akari, and the way she's glaring at me doesn't exactly scream "team player."Class ends, and the hallway's a madhouse of students comparing their pairings. I linger by my locker, hoping to catch Shiori, maybe say something to gauge how she feels about Minami. But she's already gone, swept away by the crowd. Instead, I feel someone looming beside me, and a sharp voice breaks through my thoughts. "Yakuin, right?" It's Akari, arms crossed, her school uniform tweaked just enough to scream gyaru—skirt a little short, tie loose and casual. Her makeup's perfect, but her eyes are all business, like she's sizing me up and already found me lacking. "Let's get one thing straight. I didn't sign up for this, and I'm not happy about being stuck with you. But I need this to work."I blink, caught off guard. "Uh, yeah, I don't want this either," I mumble, my voice barely audible. I'm not sure what I expected, but her intensity throws me. She's so… forceful, like she could bend the world to her will if she tried hard enough."Good," she says, her tone clipped. "I have my reasons for needing those points. You've got yours too, I bet." Her eyes flicker, just for a second, like she's debating whether to trust me. Then her guard snaps back up. "I want to switch partners. You do too, right? So let's play the perfect couple, rack up the points, and get this over with. Deal?"I nod, my mind racing. I've heard the rumors—Akari's got a thing for Minami, just like half the girls in school. If she wants to swap to be with him, and I want Shiori, we're on the same page. Sort of. But can I trust her? She seems like the type who'd ditch me the second it suits her. Still, I mutter, "Deal," because what else can I do?By late afternoon, I'm standing in front of a nondescript apartment building, a key dangling from my hand. The Marriage Practical's organizers have assigned us a unit, and I push open the door to find a small, bare-bones place. The air smells like fresh paint, and the furniture's sparse—a rickety table, a couch that looks like it's been through a war, and a hallway leading to… oh no. One bedroom. My stomach drops. One bedroom, one bed, and me stuck with Akari Watanabe.She arrives a minute later, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her expression a mix of annoyance and determination. "Wow, cozy," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she scans the room. She drops her bag on the couch and turns to me, hands on her hips. "Alright, ground rules. I get the bed. You take the couch. Don't touch my stuff, don't snoop, and don't even think about getting any weird ideas, got it?""I'm not like that," I snap, my face heating up. Does she really think I'm some kind of creep? Her assumption stings, like she's already decided I'm the worst kind of guy. She raises an eyebrow, like she's testing me, then shrugs."Whatever. Just don't mess this up." She pulls out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen as she checks the Marriage Practical app. "We get points for cooking together, cleaning, and—ugh—demonstrating affection. This is so stupid."I nod, but my mind's elsewhere. Shiori's probably in an apartment like this with Minami right now. Is she laughing at his jokes? Blushing when he smiles? The thought makes my chest ache, and I force myself to focus. If I want a shot at swapping partners, I need to make this work with Akari. No matter how much she intimidates me.We start unpacking, and the silence between us is heavy, broken only by the rustle of bags. Her phone buzzes, and I catch her smiling at it, a soft, private smile that doesn't match her usual bravado. "Minami?" I ask before I can stop myself, instantly regretting it.Her head snaps up, eyes narrowing. "None of your business, Yakuin." But her cheeks flush, and I feel a weird mix of relief and irritation. She's got her own crush to chase, just like me. Maybe that's something we can build on.The app pings with our first task: cook a meal together and eat it as a couple. Akari groans but drags me into the tiny kitchen, where we fumble through making a stir-fry. It's a disaster—our elbows keep bumping, and I nearly drop a knife when her hand brushes mine reaching for the cutting board. Every accidental touch makes my skin prickle, not because I'm into her, but because it's so awkward. She mutters complaints the whole time, calling me "hopeless" when I chop the vegetables unevenly. By some miracle, the stir-fry's edible, though it's too salty, and the app gives us a measly 10 points for "cooperative effort."Akari scowls at the score. "We need to do better than this if we're going to swap partners," she says, stabbing her fork into the food. "Tomorrow, we're practicing hand-holding or whatever dumb stuff this app wants. Deal?"I nod, but the idea of holding her hand makes my stomach twist. It's not about her—it's that every step I take with Akari feels like a betrayal of Shiori. Still, I have to play the part. For Shiori. For my chance to tell her how I feel.That night, I'm on the couch, the springs digging into my back. The city lights flicker through the curtains, casting shadows on the ceiling. From the bedroom, I hear Akari humming a pop song, her voice softer than I expected. For a moment, I wonder about her—what's driving her to chase Minami so fiercely? Is it just a crush, or something more? I push the thought away. She's my partner in name only, a means to an end.As I drift toward sleep, Shiori's face fills my mind—her smile, her quiet kindness. I'll make this work, no matter how hard it is. For her. But as Akari's humming fades into the night, a small, nagging thought creeps in: maybe this fake marriage won't be as straightforward as I'd planned.