The Case When I Attempted To Break The Heroine's Chastity But It Seems To Have an Opposite Effect - 5 - Plant the Seeds of Doubt

As I closed the clubroom door and stepped outside into the refreshing evening air, it creaked quietly. Only the dim light from the building remained to direct us as the sun had long since set. After the three of us finish the tasks we were working on, we depart the school. Since Miyuki has a rehearsal for their next song, she is already gone out first. Haruto and I followed soon after, his typical smile on his face and his bag thrown carelessly over one shoulder.

“Man, that was a productive session!” he said, stretching his arms above his head as we walked down the empty path leading away from the school.

I nodded absentmindedly, my thoughts elsewhere. It’s been a few days since I’ve joined the Art Club, and it had provided me with ample opportunities to observe both Haruto and Miyuki, their habits, their interactions, and their weaknesses.

Haruto, despite his enthusiasm and talent, had a major flaw: his reliance on Miyuki. He relied on her continuously, expecting her to take up the burden when his ideas became overly ambitious or his focus shifted. And Miyuki, being Miyuki, always stepped in, even when it was clear she was overwhelmed, at least, that’s what I’ve observed in their past interaction a few days ago.

How long can she keep that up before it breaks her?

“Ishibara-kun?” Haruto’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Hm?” I glanced at him, realizing I hadn’t been paying attention.

“I said sorry for keeping you so late,” he repeated, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I didn’t realize how much time we spent working on that project.”

“No big deal,” I said with a shrug. “The contest is a big deal, right? Can’t cut corners if you want to win.”

The aforementioned contest is an art show that showcases a wide range of artistic mediums from various schools. If you finish in the top three, you will be awarded a cash prize. And, as an Art Club, we decided to participate, not only for the prize money, but also to see some unique art that could serve as a reference for the club members, or so they thought. Me? I simply go with the flow, of course. Whether or if we win the contest or not, I’ve already accomplished my goal. And that is: seeing these two characters in close quarters.

“Exactly!” Haruto said, his grin widening. “This could be huge for the club! The prize money alone could cover supplies for months. And it’s a chance to show everyone what we’re capable of!”

“Right,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “It’s ambitious, though. You sure we can pull it off?”

“With you and Miyuki helping? Definitely!” he said confidently. “You’ve been a huge help already, Ishibara-kun. Seriously, thanks for sticking with us.”

“Just doing my part.”

Haruto glanced at his watch and let out a low whistle. “Wow, it’s already this late. Tell you what—I’ll treat you to lunch tomorrow as a thank you. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good,” I said, nodding. “Looking forward to it.”

We continued walking, the rhythmic sound of our footsteps filling the silence. The path split ahead, one road leading toward Haruto’s neighborhood and the other toward the train station.

“Well, this is where we part ways” Haruto said, adjusting his bag. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow, Ishibara-kun!”

“Yeah, see ya later,” I replied, watching as he jogged down the path and disappeared around the corner.

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The slight rustle of leaves in the breeze was the only sound to break the silence on the walk to the train station. My thoughts wandered as I stuffed my hands into my pockets.

Haruto’s a good guy, I thought, my lips curving into a small smirk. But he’s too dependent on Miyuki. She’s already juggling enough as it is—school, her idol career, this club… and now him on top of it all? It’s only a matter of time before something happens.

Eventually, I have arrived at the station. I glanced up at the station’s clock as I approached the platform. The train wasn’t due for another five minutes, giving me time to lean back against the wall and let my thoughts wander.

The slight rumble of an incoming train distracted me from my thoughts. The train’s headlights shone through the darkness as it entered the station, its mechanical hum disturbing the silence of the practically vacant platform.

I got onto the platform as the train arrived. As I slid into a seat toward the rear, I exhaled and leaned against the window. The cool glass pushed against my head, providing a moment of clarity as I recalled the day. The Art Club’s work on the contest project had been decent, Haruto had been his usual eager self, and Miyuki had been Miyuki—calm, collected, and sometimes too composed for her own good.

How long can she keep this act of hers up before it all becomes too much?

The faint vibration of the train beneath me seemed to mirror my thoughts, steady but humming with potential. As I glanced around the carriage, my gaze landed on a rather familiar figure sitting a few rows ahead.

At first, I thought it was a trick of the light, but then I recognized her blonde hair, the way it fell messily over her shoulders, as if she hadn’t bothered to fix it after a long day. It was none other than Miyuki.

She was slumped slightly in her seat, her gaze unfocused as she stared out the window. Her bag rested on her lap, her hands limp against it. Even from a distance, she looked utterly drained, the weight of the day etched into the slump of her shoulders.

Well, this is unexpected, I thought, a slow smile creeping onto my face.

I stood, taking my time as I made my way down the aisle toward her. The soft scuff of my shoes against the train floor seemed to pull her attention, and she turned her head, her eyes widening slightly when she saw me.

“Ishibara-san?” she said, her voice laced with surprise.

“Well, this is unexpected, huh?” I replied, sliding into the seat opposite her. “What are the chances we’d be on the same train?”

She blinked, her posture straightening slightly as she adjusted her bag. “It’s late. What are you doing here?”

“Heading home,” I said with a shrug. “Same as you, I assume.”

Her brow furrowed, as though she was trying to decide if this was a coincidence or something else. “I thought you’d have left earlier. Didn’t Haruto-kun leave before you?”

“Someone had to clean up after him,” I said lightly, leaning back in my seat. “You know how he is. Always rushing off without tidying up.”

Her lips twitched slightly, a hint of a smile breaking through her tired expression. “That does sound like him.”

“So,” I said, tilting my head as I observed her, “long day?”

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her lap. “You could say that.”

“Idol life keeping you busy?”

A shadow crossed her face, and she let out a quiet sigh. “It always does. There’s always something—rehearsals, performances, interviews… and then there’s school on top of it all.”

“That’s a lot to handle,” I said, my voice softening. “How do you even manage?”

Her eyes flicked toward the window, her reflection staring back at her. “I just… do. There’s no other choice.”

Her tone was matter-of-fact, but there was something in her expression that caught my attention—a weariness that went beyond physical exhaustion.

“It sounds exhausting,” I said after a moment. “Especially with the club on top of everything. And Haruto-kun depending on you so much.”

Her head turned sharply, her eyes narrowing. “Haruto-kun doesn’t depend on me.”

“Doesn’t he?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re the one keeping everything running smoothly. He’s talented, sure, but he’d be lost without you.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Instead, she looked away, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.

“It’s not like that,” she said finally, though her voice lacked its usual conviction. “Haruto-kun is just… passionate. He wants to do his best, and sometimes that means he gets carried away.”

“Passion is great,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “But it’s a lot to put on your shoulders, isn’t it? You’ve already got so much going on. It’s okay to step back sometimes, you know.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze fixed firmly on the passing city lights outside the window. For a moment, I thought she might lash out or tell me to mind my own business, but instead, she let out a quiet sigh.

“Sometimes,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “it feels like everything is piling up. But I can’t stop. People are counting on me. If I stop, everything falls apart.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken until now. I studied her face, noting the faint lines of tension around her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped as though the weight of her responsibilities was finally catching up to her.

“And who’s there for you when you need it?” I asked, my tone gentle but pointed.

Her head snapped toward me, her eyes wide. For a second, I saw something raw in her expression—something unguarded and vulnerable.

“I—” she started, but the words caught in her throat. She looked down, her fingers twisting the fabric of her bag.

The train began to slow as it approached the next station, the mechanical hum shifting into a low screech. She stood abruptly, clutching her bag tightly against her chest.

“This is my stop,” she said, her voice clipped but soft.

I leaned back, letting her escape if that’s what she needed. “Goodnight, Miyuki-san,” I said, my tone light.

She hesitated for the briefest moment, her eyes meeting mine. “Goodnight, Ishibara-san,” she said before stepping off the train.

As the doors slid shut and the train began to move again, I watched her through the window, her figure disappearing into the shadows of the station.

She’s cracking, I thought, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. Piece by piece, the walls are coming down.

The city lights blurred past as the train carried me home, my mind already plotting my next move.