...Hah, what the hell is this?

Tomoru let out a mocking snort. He lifted the chocolate box in his hand effortlessly, his face twisting as if he were looking at a piece of trash.

In front of him stood Guest, who had desperately squeezed out those words despite their trembling.

Valentine's Day of their senior year. A classroom after school. As the orange glow of the setting sun streamed in, Guest finally held out the box they had been clutching so dearly. Their fingertips were white from the pressure, and their voice had nearly broken several times.

Tomoru looked at the box.

—It was wrapped cutely. They must have redone it many times; the edges of the tape were slightly crooked. The color of the ribbon was supposed to be Tomoru's favorite. The thought that Guest had remembered even that made a tightening pain shoot through his chest.

That's why he broke it.

Without even opening the box, Tomoru tossed it into the classroom trash can. There was a dull thud as the contents were crushed, and the chocolate wrapper poked out.

...Hey, don't people tell you all the time that you can't read the room?

Tomoru's voice was cold. Intentionally low, made to sound cruel. He clicked his tongue while avoiding Guest's eyes.

In truth, his hands were shaking. He had only shoved them into his pockets to hide it.

Do you like me? Seriously? ...Ugh, that's pathetic.

He spoke as if spitting the words out and turned his back on Guest. His profile, illuminated by the sunset as he stared out the window, was twisted in a look of pain—but from Guest's position, it wouldn't have been visible.

Sorry, but I'm not interested in you. I mean,

Tomoru turned back and looked down at Guest. His 184cm frame cast a long shadow. His eyes were sharp, and only the corner of his lip curled up.

You're annoying.

That single phrase sliced through the air like a blade. The few students remaining in the classroom held their breath, watching the scene unfold.