My Tsundere Childhood Friend, Who Was Always Haughty, Suddenly Showing a Sharp Increase in Affection and Directing Intense, Heavy Emotions Toward Me - Chapter 6-7

Chapter 6: Is Sana Staring at Me Way Too Much…?

After finishing lunch, we returned to the classroom, grabbed our stuff, and headed to the changing rooms for gym class. When I got to the changing room, most Proust was already changed into his gym clothes and started talking to me.

“You’re late. I thought you were gonna skip class with Ibuki,” he said.

“I’m not skipping. And what would I even do with Sana if we did skip?” I replied.

“Obviously, you’d sneak off to the nurse’s office and get cozy in bed together,” he said.

“No way, don’t lump me in with you,” I shot back.

Proust was saying ridiculous stuff, and I couldn’t help but call him out. His childhood friend obsession was getting out of hand—his brain was totally rotten. The nurse’s office bed thing was straight out of some dirty manga.

“Enough jokes. How’s it going with Ibuki lately?” he asked.

“It’s hard to answer when you ask so vaguely, but it’s not bad, I guess,” I said.

“Yeah, she’s gotten softer, not picking fights with you anymore. But now she’s staring at you like crazy,” he said.

“Huh, really?” I said, surprised.

His words caught me off guard, and I let out a shocked sound. Proust looked at me like I was an idiot.

“Seriously? You haven’t noticed her staring holes through you?” he said.

“Nope. Honestly, I’m more convinced you’re just messing with me to get a reaction,” I replied.

“Just take a quick look at her during gym class. She’s watching you the whole time. Anyway, I’m heading out, so don’t be late,” he said.

“…Crap, I gotta hurry!” I realized.

Talking with Akiya made me lose track of time, and the warning bell was about to ring. Our gym teacher got annoyed if we weren’t lined up by then, so being late was a hassle.

I changed as fast as I could and barely made it to the gym before the bell. As I slid in, my eyes met Sana’s, who was talking with friends at the far end of the gym.

Akiya’s words made me overthink it, but she was probably just looking at the entrance. That’s what I thought, but I quickly realized I was wrong.

“Is Sana staring at me way too much…?” I wondered.

During lineup, warm-ups, and volleyball serve practice, I casually glanced at her a few times, pretending it was accidental. Every single time, our eyes met.

I was so distracted by her staring that I couldn’t focus on class at all. During the volleyball game, I zoned out completely, lost in my own world, which was a mistake.

“Kurosaki, watch out!” someone shouted.

“Huh…?” I reacted.

By the time I snapped out of it, the ball was flying right at my face. I instinctively put my hand up, but a sharp pain shot through my index finger. It felt like I’d jammed it bad.

“Haruto, are you okay!?” Sana asked.

The game stopped because of my epic finger jam. Sana was suddenly right next to me. The girls were playing basketball on the other side of the gym, so when did she get here?

“I guess thinking too much during stuff like this is a bad idea,” I said.

“Obviously! What were you even thinking about?” she asked.

“It’s not a big deal,” I mumbled.

I couldn’t exactly tell her I was thinking about her staring at me, so I dodged the question. I didn’t have the guts to say that to her face.

—

Chapter 7: You Don’t Have to Say It So Seriously

“Let’s go to the nurse’s office. I’ll come with you as a special favor,” Sana said.

“No, I can go to the nurse’s office by myself just fine,” I replied.

“I’m offering out of kindness, so you could just go along with it. Or do you not want to go with me?” she said.

“…Fine, I’ll take you up on it,” I said.

When she looked up at me and said that, I couldn’t refuse, so I gave in quietly.

Thanks to Akiya’s stupid comment about getting cozy in the nurse’s office with a childhood friend, my mind went to weird places. I’d have to punch him later. It was embarrassing to be stared at as Sana and I left the gym together.

“By the way, when was the last time we went to the nurse’s office together?” Sana asked.

“Probably during the fourth-grade sports day, right? I think we went after I fell during the class relay,” I said.

“Oh yeah, that happened,” she said.

“I still remember how you poured a ton of disinfectant on my wound without thinking. It hurt like crazy,” I said.

“Sorry about that. Back then, I thought dumping a bunch on would make it heal,” she said.

While we talked, we reached the nurse’s office, but no one was there. It was completely empty and silent.

“Looks like the nurse isn’t here,” I said.

“Maybe she’s off somewhere for something,” Sana said.

“No idea when she’ll be back, so I’ll just do some first aid myself,” I said.

“I’ll grab the taping tape. You sit there,” Sana said.

I didn’t argue this time and let her help. Sana started looking for the tape in the shelves and found it quickly, but there was a problem.

It was on a high shelf, and Sana, being a bit short at 154 centimeters, could barely reach it. She stretched to grab it, but it looked risky, so I stood up.

“If you can’t reach, I’ll get it. You don’t have to push yourself,” I said.

“…I’m jealous of your height, Haruto. Can you give me a few centimeters?” she said.

“I’m only a bit taller than the average guy, so I can’t spare any. I don’t want to be below average,” I said.

“You don’t have to say it so seriously,” Sana said, pouting a little.

She complained after hearing my words. I’m 174 centimeters, slightly above the average for guys, but if I gave any away, I’d be below average in no time.

Not that there’s a way to share height anyway. While thinking that, I started wrapping the tape from the shelf around my finger when Sana spoke up.

“I’ll do the taping for your finger,” she said.

“You sure?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s why I came to the nurse’s office with you,” she said.

After saying that, Sana took the tape from me. When her hand touched mine, it felt soft as always.

Lately, Sana’s been wanting to hold hands a lot, and we’ve done it often. Since I’m not used to girls, it makes my heart race every time.

People might think I’m super simple, but I bet most unpopular high school guys would feel the same way I do.