"Here."
Sakura leaned forward, offering a cup of milk tea with both hands. "It's cold, so I thought cola wouldn't do. I got you this to warm up… but it's probably cold now."
She looked apologetic.
"My bad, my bad," Satoru said, taking it. Thirsty, he slurped it down in a whirlwind. The lukewarm tea hit just right—damn good. His toes practically curled.
"Glad you like it," Sakura said.
Satoru chugged half in one go.
Sakura watched quietly.
He finally glanced at her, noticing her silence. "You're not gonna ask why I'm late? Not even scold me?"
"Huh? Can I?" Sakura said, almost flattered.
Satoru blinked, thrown off. "O-Of course you can."
"That's great…" Sakura touched her chest, her soft curves rising, as if relieved.
Guess I'm not hated.
After Kobayashi Ayaka's blunt, "Sakura, he totally hates you," Sakura had agonized over what she'd done to make Kobayashi-kun dislike her.
Late into the night, she'd texted Ayaka about it.
Ayaka had said, "You don't need a reason to love someone, so why need one to hate them?"
Harsh words, knowing they'd sting. Ayaka's first impression of this "Kobayashi" guy was bad—she wanted to cut their ties clean.
Sakura went quiet, then asked, "How do I stop being hated?"
Ayaka was stumped. After a pause, she replied, "Sakura, can we not simp so hard?"
Sakura, earnest, asked, "What's simping?"
Devoted to kendo since childhood, Sakura followed rules to a fault, but her common sense was… lacking.
As vice-captain and best friend, Ayaka covered her blind spots.
"Most guy members are simping for you," Ayaka dropped, a bombshell in their private chat.
"Then I'm definitely simping for Kobayashi-kun," Sakura replied, shocking Ayaka.
To Sakura, the guys respected her and admired her kendo skills, just as she admired Kobayashi-kun's.
"…Say less, Sakura," Ayaka sighed.
After Ayaka's patient guidance, they agreed: if Kobayashi didn't show by 12:30, he was just toying with Sakura—a jerk who hated her.
So, Sakura waited at Hachiko from 11:00.
Time ticked by. The sun shone, but the wind chilled.
The warm milk tea cooled, like her mood.
Past the deadline, anger flared—she considered leaving.
But a flicker of "Maybe Kobayashi-kun got held up" kept her there.
Then, "What if something happened to him?" took over.
Worry rooted her in place.
Seeing Satoru jog through the crowd, Sakura felt not just joy, but relief.
Thank goodness, he's okay.
"Ran into someone who needed help," Satoru said vaguely. "Got held up. Sorry."
"You're so kind, Kobayashi-kun," Sakura smiled. "You're really a good person."
And just like that, a good guy card.
Satoru sighed inwardly, shifting to business. "That kendo shop you mentioned—is it in Shibuya?"
"Yeah, a bit out of the way," Sakura said, hands clasped behind her, leading the way. "It's remote, but for kendo nerds like us, it's paradise! I shop there all the time. Perfect for buying a bokken."
For Satoru, kendo gear like armor could be skipped, but a bokken was non-negotiable. It's why he joined the club.
"By the way, are you really skipping the kendo tournament prelims?" Sakura asked, tilting her head.
For kendo lovers, the tournament was unmissable.
Skilled club members were training hard. When Sakura mentioned it to Satoru, he'd laughed, "Hahaha, nope!"
To her, his skill made prelims a breeze, so maybe he didn't care. But no prelims, no finals—a shame he'd miss the big stage. So she asked again.
"Nah, I'm out," Satoru said, same answer.
Truth was, the hassle wasn't the issue. He wasn't hiding his strength to play pig and eat tigers. It just felt… unfair.
He'd never trained in kendo. His skills came from the system. Why compete against kids who'd sweated in dojos for years?
To him, it was just swinging a sword. To them, it was a lifelong dream.
Satoru wasn't cruel enough to crush that.
Plus, his goals lay elsewhere.
…
Sakura led him to a quaint shop with an old wooden sign: Kendo Kari.
The bold, dragon-like calligraphy looked carved by sword strokes.
Impressive.
The location, though? Without Sakura, Satoru would've been lost.
"Hello," Sakura said, opening the door.
"Well, well, welcome!" A sixty-something granny at the counter, sporting small glasses, lit up. "Sakura-chan! Back again, and with… oh my, a boyfriend?"
Grannies worldwide shared this gossip gene. She chuckled behind her hand.
"N-No!" Sakura waved frantically.
Satoru cut in, blunt. "Nee-san, let's check out the swords."
One nee-san, and all romantic notions were sliced clean.
"Oh, Sakura's little brother? My eyes failed me," the granny apologized.
"…It's fine," Sakura said, glancing at Satoru's tall, lean back as he headed to the sword racks.
She knew he was younger, but in kendo, skill trumped age—she saw him as a senior.
Him calling her nee-san… it threw her.
"What's up, nee-san?" Satoru called, frowning.
"!!"
Sakura's back stiffened, goosebumps rising.
Her face flushed… a tidal blush.
Exhilaration.
Being called nee-san by Kobayashi-kun… why did it feel so good?
…
…