Jun ran into Sugisaki again during the afternoon PE block. Sugisaki was the quintessential "Star Athlete"—wearing a sweatband, radiating high-energy charisma as he jogged onto the court with the boys of Class 2.

  "Jun Matsue! One-on-one, right now!" Sugisaki barked from the sideline.

  Jun waved off the other guys, signaling that he’d handle it, and walked to the edge of the court. Sugisaki stood there, glaring with intense, teenage fury.

  "What’s the point?" Jun asked.

  Sugisaki looked baffled, as if the concept of a challenge needed no justification.

  "If you beat me, will Tomatsu suddenly fall in love with you?"

  "Are you mocking me?" Sugisaki’s voice rose, his fists clenching. Jun didn't know that Sugisaki had confessed to Yuka during lunch and had been rejected with surgical precision.

  "I’ve asked around about you, Sugisaki. You’re impressive. A track champion, a basketball star, a straight-A student, and you have a huge circle of friends. You’re a catch."

  "Th-thanks..." Caught off guard by the praise, Sugisaki’s anger lost its momentum.

  "But what does any of that have to do with whether she likes you? If a girl loves you, she’ll love you even if you’re slow and failing every class. Conversely, you could lead the team to a National Championship, and it wouldn't move her an inch if she isn't interested."

  "A one-on-one is the same. Even if you crush me, it won't win her over. If anything, seeing you harass me will probably just make her hate you more."

  "So, I ask again: what’s the point?"

  "Jun!"

  Someone had tipped Yuka off. She came sprinting across the field, throwing herself in front of Jun to shield him from Sugisaki.

  Sugisaki’s face lit up when he saw her, but as he realized she was protecting Jun from him, his expression turned ashen, like a shattered plaster cast.

  Yuka ignored the boy’s heartbreak, turning to check Jun over. "Are you hurt? Did he do anything?"

  Jun shook his head.

  When she finally turned back to face the court, Sugisaki was already walking away, his shoulders slumped.

  "Don't mind him, Jun!" Yuka said frantically, desperate to prove her innocence. "He’s just some guy who can't handle a rejection. I have absolutely nothing to do with him!"

  Jun knew that. But as he watched her, he noticed her disappointment. She wanted him to be angry. She wanted a flash of jealousy to prove she mattered to him.

  The bell rang, and they walked back to the main building.

  "Maki-senpai says my performance in the band has improved," Yuka noted, her tone shifting back to sweet. "Does that mean you’ll finish the story now?"

  "You really don't let things go, do you?"

  From the second-floor window, Haruka Mochizuki watched them leave the court together.

  "Sugisaki," she whispered, her eyes cold. "You’re utterly useless."

  ________

  "Where did we leave off?"

  "The ex-girlfriend just threw herself into Lake Okutama."

  And so, Jun’s first relationship began in earnest.

  To keep the girl from doing something even more drastic, Jun accepted her confession. But he was honest with her: he told her he didn't love her back. Not yet.

  "That’s fine," Yuka noted as they sat in the archives, sorting through student council files. "Feelings can be cultivated over time."

  Jun had tried his best to be a "model boyfriend." He did everything a guy was supposed to do—dinners, movies, shopping, study dates. They spent their evenings in the library and took long walks by the river at sunset, listening to the world breathe.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Yuka listened intently, mentally filing away every detail. She planned to overwrite those memories, replacing every one of that girl’s landmarks with her own.

  Jun still wasn't sure when the "Shift" happened. But slowly, the girl’s requests became demands. She wanted every second of his time. She eventually tried to convince him to move out of the orphanage, claiming she had talked her parents into letting him live with them.

  That was the first time Jun felt true panic. He refused.

  The girl didn't argue. But from that day on, she began calling him incessantly. The orphanage’s only landline was constantly tied up with her calls. At school, she forbade him from speaking to other girls. She demanded a play-by-play report of every person he encountered and every word he spoke.

  When Jun finally asked her if she was taking it too far, she burst into tears. 'My world is only you now,' she had sobbed. 'Why can't your world be only me?'

  Yuka could almost hear the girl’s voice. It made her skin crawl with a strange, dark recognition.

  The end was inevitable. Jun broke up with her face-to-face. To avoid another "lake incident," he chose a spot behind the school buildings—no water, no heights, just a soft bed of fallen leaves.

  The girl didn't say a word. She transferred schools the next day, and Jun never saw her again.

  "That’s it?" Yuka asked. "The ending feels... hollow."

  "It’s real life, Yuka. Not a movie. Not every story ends in a explosion or a suicide."

  "I’m telling you this because I don't want a sequel. Looking back, that relationship wasn't 'sweet.' It was exhausting. Neither of us were happy."

  "My mistake was being soft-hearted at the start and letting her obsession grow unchecked. Love is just another desire, Yuka. She started out just wanting to be with me. But once she had that, her hunger grew. Her love became her entire world, so she demanded more and more from me to fill the void. It was a debt I could never pay."

  "When your head is only full of one person, you’ll always feel like you don't love them enough, and they don't love you enough."

  "A person can't survive on love alone. If you only eat one kind of food, no matter how much you love it, you’ll eventually get sick. If you throw away every other meal and keep only one... what happens when you can't stomach it anymore?"

  "Maki-senpai told me you skipped practice today. Yuka, you’re brilliant when you play. You should have more moments like that in your life."

  Jun fell silent. He hadn't talked this much since his freshman orientation speech.

  Yuka looked at him, her eyes dark and swirling. "Jun... it’s exactly that part of you, the part that's so different from the rest of us, that makes me fall for you even harder."

  Jun looked up, exasperated. "You didn't hear a single word I just said, did you?"

  "I lost my favorite ebonite mouthpiece," Yuka said, ignoring his comment. "Will you come with me to buy a new one after school?"

  Jun looked at her for a long beat. "...Just for today."

  "Then let’s go!"

  The music shop was tucked away in a quiet alley. Inside, a middle-aged man with long hair sat behind the counter, looking half-asleep.

  "What can I do for you?"

  "Do you have a Drake New Era ebonite mouthpiece?" Yuka asked.

  The man went to the back and returned with a small box, no bigger than a tube of lipstick. They were out of the shop in minutes.

  "Jun, come back to the school with me? I want to put it on and play for you."

  Jun was curious. Maki had said Yuka’s old playing was "soulful." He wanted to see if the "Perfect Girl" actually had a heart.

  As they walked, Yuka opened the package and handed the small black object to Jun. "Want to see?"

  He took it. As he did, her fingertips brushed his palm—a slow, deliberate graze.

  "Oops. Sorry." She didn't sound sorry at all.

  Jun examined the "mouthpiece." It was made of black hard-rubber, with a subtle blue 'A' engraved on the top. It felt cool and professional in his hand.

  "I started playing sax when I was ten," Yuka said, her hands moving through the air as if she were holding the instrument. "Once I found this specific model, I never used anything else. For five years, this was part of me."

  Her face flickered between shadow and light as they walked under the trees.

  "I’m a very stubborn person, Jun. Once I choose something, I never let it go. The longer I have it, the more I understand it. I’ve used this model so long that I can feel it in my mouth even when it’s not there."

  "Bright highs, easy sustain, perfect embouchure," she smiled. "But my favorite part is the blue mark." She leaned into him, pointing at the 'A'. "It looks youthful, don't you think? Like me?"

  "Though," she added, her voice dropping to a whisper, "what I’d really like to have in my mouth is your finger. I wonder if I’ll ever get to taste you again?"

  She looked up at him, the picture of a fragile, pleading girl. "So, Jun... now that I’ve set my sights on you, don't dream of me backing down. My feelings for you will only get deeper. More devoted."

  She mimicked a predator’s claws with her hands. "I’m going to hunt you forever. Don't think you can escape."

  Jun looked at the mouthpiece in his hand. "I’ve known that for a long time."

  The practice room was empty. Yuka assembled her golden saxophone, attached the new mouthpiece and reed, and stood before him.

  Music is a mirror of the soul. Even with the same instrument, two people will sound entirely different.

  The moment she blew the first note, Jun understood what Maki meant.

  She played Summer—the theme from Kikujiro. It should have been a nostalgic, lighthearted tune, but in Yuka’s hands, the melody was a storm. The shifting rhythms felt like her constant probing, her relentless attacks on his defenses.

  The sadness of unrequited love was drowned out by her sheer, burning intensity. It ended on a delicate, vibrating trill, but the silence that followed wasn't peaceful.

  "Jun," Yuka whispered, licking her lips. "One day, I’m going to play you just like this saxophone."

  _______

  Finals were two days away. Jun had cancelled his shifts to focus on his "Hustle"—maintaining his top-tier GPA for the scholarship money.

  The heat was oppressive. The horizon shimmered like a fever dream.

  In the middle of the final PE class, a pair of legs in white knee-socks and blue-and-white sneakers stopped in front of Jun, cutting off his contemplation of the heatwaves.

  Jun looked up, his eyes tracing the line of her legs to meet Haruka Mochizuki’s gaze. In the suffocating afternoon air, she was the only thing that felt cool.

  "Want a seat?" Jun asked, gesturing to the shade beside him.

  She sat down, using her pinky to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

  "Where’s Tomatsu?" Haruka asked. It was rare for the "Parasite" to let Jun out of her sight.

  "She’s under the weather," Jun said. He wasn't about to mention she was in the infirmary with cramps.

  "You’re getting to know her quite well," Haruka noted, watching the heat distortion on the track.

  "Mochizuki," Jun said, fanning her with his hand. The girl looked like she was melting. "If you want someone to understand you, you have to show them who you are. You can't just stand there and wait for curiosity to do the work for you."

  Haruka tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into the breeze from his hand. She looked like a cat basking in the sun. Jun resisted the urge to scratch her chin; Haruka wasn't a stray cat you could just pet and leave.

  "And do you want to understand me?" she asked, her eyes snapping open as she leaned close.

  Her eyes were terrifyingly clear. Looking into them felt like looking into a deep, still well.

  "Do you want the truth?"

  Haruka remained silent.

  "Mochizuki, right now, I don't want to 'understand' anyone. I have a list of goals, and I don't have time for mysteries. I know you have feelings for me, but the list of people who have feelings for me is very long. I’m long past being flattered by it."

  The water in the well turned murky.

  "You appear out of nowhere, keep your distance, ask a million questions, and never reveal a single thing about yourself. Some guys might find the 'Mysterious Princess' act intriguing, but I’m not interested in a cat that only comes around when it wants something."

  Haruka stood up abruptly, looking down at him. "So I don't matter to you?"

  "You’re my friend. You’ve helped me. Of course you matter."

  "Is that all?"

  "There you go with the questions again." Jun looked at the other students under the trees.

  Suddenly, Haruka dropped into a crouch, her face inches from his. He could feel her eyelashes brush against his cheek.

  Jun didn't move an inch.