I Ended up Getting Close With the Class Madonna Who Keeps Rejecting Confessions, Saying She Doesn’t Plan to Date Anyone - Chapter 12

It’s a classic in romantic comedies. A cute girl walking alone has a high chance of being hit on. But I never thought I’d actually see it happen…

In front of me were two tall, delinquent-looking guys. One had long hair, the other short, both dyed bright.

If this turned into a fight, it would definitely be a huge mess. Ideally, they’d see I had a girlfriend and just give up.

…But.

“What’s up with you? Are you trying to look cool in front of your girl?”

The short-haired one glared at me while frowning. That reaction made it clear that this wasn’t going to end peacefully. Well, time to give up on that idea.

…No choice. Time for Plan B.

“I’m not trying to look cool or anything. I’m just doing what any boyfriend would do.”

The short-haired guy stepped closer. “Are you scared? Huh?” he spat out the typical line, and I couldn’t help but almost laugh.

“I think you might be the one trying to look cool in front of a cute girl. And not backing off here? That’s honestly just lame. Or are you stuck because if you back down now, it’ll be embarrassing?”

I had to admit, even I was impressed at how smoothly I was talking while being pushed like this.

“Huh? Don’t get too full of yourself!”

“You really need to work on your vocabulary.”

I laughed a little, the kind that’s just annoying enough to get under his skin. At the same time, I glanced at the ceiling to check the camera’s position.

Guys like this usually throw a punch when they get angry. Seeing his face confirmed it.

Just a little longer…

Perfect timing. A few people peeked out from behind the crane machines, probably having heard the commotion. Everything was falling into place.

“So tell me, what makes you think a cute girl like her would even notice you? From head to toe, there’s not a single thing about you that’s attractive―”

Before I could finish, the short-haired guy’s fist slammed into my cheek. My vision flashed white for a second. It strangely didn’t hurt, but I tasted metal in my mouth.

Behind me, Shinoba let out a small and scared gasp.

The long-haired guy tried to stop his friend, shouting, “Hey,” but it was too late.

Facing two guys like this, I had to be ready for anything.

One of the plans was to take a hit on purpose so the others would look completely wrong.

I’d get hurt, but it would make sure they’d be the ones blamed.

“…Ugh.”

The punch sent me into the crane game machine with a loud crash. My cheek burned, and the pain came through clearly after a moment.

“Sousuke-kun!!”

Shinoba ran over to me, her face full of worry and fear.

With the loud noise and the camera footage, the staff would notice something was wrong. They were hitting someone stronger than they were hitting someone. If someone actually hits another person, it becomes an assault case. After that, everything would be solved without me doing anything else.

I remembered something my mom once said.

“Fights are decided by who started them. The one who throws the first punch is the loser. But you’re a man, and sometimes you can’t get away. If that happens, take a few hits first. Then you can say it was self‑defense.”

I’d been surprised back then; she sounded calm for someone who looked like they’d be ready to fight. Still, taking one punch and ending things was much more reasonable than getting hit five times.

And in the end, that’s exactly what happened.

People gathered. It grew, and someone who sounded like a staff member called out. Confident I’d won, I let out a big sigh.

＊

The sun had finished its work for the day and was slowly disappearing. As we walked toward the station, Shinoba suddenly stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

Surely she wasn’t sad that the day was ending. I stopped and turned to ask.

Thinking back, it had been quite a day. My carefully planned ideas were all rejected, we watched a movie, had lunch, ran into classmates, and then Shinoba got hit on.

Just remembering it all made me want to sigh.

“Does your cheek still hurt?”

“…A little.”

The punch at the game center had been strong, and my cheek still felt a dull and lingering pain. It stung just a little.

“I’m sorry.”

She muttered the words, and I frowned.

“Why are you apologizing?”

I meant it. Not just being polite, this was how I really felt. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

I could tell she was apologizing because she felt bad that I got hit, but anyone would honestly say those guys were completely at fault. Shinoba wasn’t to blame at all.

“…Because of me, Sousuke‑kun…”

“It’s not your fault. Those guys who hit me are the ones in the wrong.”

“…But.”

I felt a little frustrated with her worrying like this. Why did she blame herself? It was objectively obvious who was at fault.

“Even if you were at fault for the sake of argument, what would make you feel better? Saying sorry won’t take away the pain. Do you want to punish yourself completely?”

“…”

Her silence made me feel like I was teasing her. Say something.

I sighed and scratched my head. Calm down. She’s someone I don’t fully know yet. My usual logic might not work here.

“That… I may have gone a bit too far just now. I don’t think Shinoba is at fault. But if you’re still not satisfied, what would make things right?”

I didn’t want this to drag on. I wanted to solve it today.

“…What would make things right?”

By evening, the area in front of the station was getting crowded. Plenty of people were probably heading home, like us.

Among them, we stopped and faced each other. One of us looked unusually down, as if we were having a serious breakup… even though we weren’t even a couple.

“Sousuke‑kun, what would make you happy?”

I wanted to say, I’d be happy if she just forgot about it and went home, but that probably wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

No pointless arguing. I needed to suggest something she would accept. Something realistic and maybe something I’d actually want to…

“…Hmm.”

Come to think of it, today has been full of new experiences.

My carefully planned date ideas got rejected. We watched a movie and talked about it. We ran into classmates and had to act casual. We enjoyed the arcade, and I even helped her when some guys tried to hit on her.

I couldn’t have done any of that alone. It was all thanks to going along with her ideas.

So, what was something I should do while this fake-relationship lasted? Something I wanted to try…

“Well, I guess trying her homemade cooking wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

Saying it out loud made me feel embarrassed. I looked away and tried to hide it.

“Got it! Next time, I’ll do my best to make a bento!”

She said it right after I finished speaking, leaning forward with determination. I couldn’t help but look at her face. Maybe because of the sunset, her cheeks looked red.

Her eyes were sparkling.

Her cheeks were flushed.

It was like―.

“All right, if that settles things, let’s head home. I’m tired.”

“You can’t say that at the end of a date?”

As we started walking toward the station, Shinoba bounced back into her usual cheerful self.

“I’ll remember.”

“And hey, I’m actually pretty good at cooking, so don’t be disappointed, okay?”

“…Yeah.”

Walking side by side on the way home, I thought maybe this relationship wasn’t so bad after all. Today has been full of experiences that made it feel meaningful.

＊

“Anju, get dinner ready.”

Kyouka’s voice echoed through the Gojou family’s dining room.

Sousuke or Anju would usually handle dinner, but on days off or when work finished early, Kyouka would take over.

Anju, who had been watching TV in the living room, stood up and looked back at Kyouka in the kitchen.

Her dark blue-black hair was cut in a mid-length bob.

Her gray-blue eyes, clear like a winter sky, scanned the living room.

“I don’t see big brother.”

Sousuke would normally be there, but he wasn’t. While fiddling with some dishes, Kyouka paused thoughtfully for a moment.

“Sousuke didn’t say anything, but it seems he’s on a date with Shinoba-chan.”

Hearing this from her mother, Anju immediately frowned.

“…Big brother… on a date…?”