The Case When I Attempted To Break The Heroine's Chastity But It Seems To Have an Opposite Effect - 6 - The Pressure Builds

The Art Club room was bustling with activity, as it always is. The familiar aroma of acrylic paint and fresh paper lingered in the air, mingling with the low buzz of conversation and the scrape of a chair against the floor. Haruto, unsurprisingly, was in the heart of everything. His tremendous energy penetrated the room, giving advice and words of encouragement that were both enthusiastic and vague.

“You’ve got this, Miyuki! Just blend the edges more and trust your instincts!”

Miyuki nodded uncomfortably, obviously overwhelmed by Haruto’s enthusiasm. I smirked to myself, staring at my own sketch in the corner. It was almost hilarious how he seemed to believe his sheer passion could solve every problem.

The two of them are sketching by the window, which is her preferred location. Her sketchbook sat open in front of her, and her pencil moved slowly over the page. However, compared to her usual precision and confidence, her actions today were uncertain, almost mechanical.

I glanced up occasionally, watching as she furrowed her brow and sighed softly. Her shoulders were tense, and even from a distance, I could see the faint shadow of exhaustion etched into her features.

Haruto clapped his hands together suddenly, jolting everyone’s attention to him. “Alright, everyone! We’re getting closer to the contest deadline! We need to start finalizing our individual pieces and planning the group submission!”

Miyuki didn’t look up. Her pencil paused mid-stroke, hovering over the page.

“We are going to blow the judges away with this!” Haruto continued, his grin as infectious as ever. “I have some great ideas, but we’ll reserve them for later competitions. Instead, we must keep our primary goal in mind. Miyuki, I was thinking you could—”

“Haruto-kun.” she interrupted, her voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through his sentence.

He froze, his grin faltering. “Uh… yeah?”

She looked up at him, her expression a mixture of weariness and irritation. “You can’t keep piling everything onto me. I already have my hands full.”

The room fell silent. Haruto exchanged uneasy glances with me, clearly unsure how to react.

“I’m not piling—” he started, but she cut him off again.

“Yes, you are.” she said, her voice rising slightly. “You come up with these big ideas, and when they fall apart, you expect me to fix them. I can’t do this on my own, Haruto-kun.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and final. Haruto stared at her, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right thing to say.

“Miyuki-san’s got a point.” I said, breaking the silence. All eyes were on me as I reclined back in my chair, maintaining my calm attitude. “I’m not sure what happened before I joined, but I believe you’ve been relying on her too much. It’s not fair to expect her to carry the weight of this project alone.”

Haruto shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… I didn’t mean to do that. I just thought…”

“Just make sure you’re pulling your weight, Haruto-kun,” I said, keeping my gaze steady. “We’re a team, remember?”

He nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah… you’re right. I’ll do better. I promise.”

Miyuki didn’t say anything. She lowered her gaze back to her sketchbook, her pencil resuming its slow, deliberate movements. But her usual grace was absent; her strokes were heavy, almost hesitant.

Haruto clapped his hands again, though the usual enthusiasm in the gesture was noticeably muted. “Alright, let’s keep at it, everyone. We’ve got this!”

The room’s energy gradually returned, but the earlier tension lingered like an invisible weight. Haruto made an effort to dial down his excitement, focusing instead on his own work.

I returned to my sketch, my mind already spinning with possibilities. Miyuki’s outburst was rare—uncharacteristic even. She was always so composed, so in control. But today, she’d let her frustration slip through the cracks.

She’s starting to feel the pressure, I thought, my lips twisting into a slight smile. The best part is that Haruto is completely unaware of this. Maybe he had noticed it, but he simply swept it aside, pretending not to notice.

As the session wore on, I caught glimpses of Miyuki as she worked. Her pencil would pause occasionally, her hand hovering over the page as if she couldn’t decide what to do next. She’d glance at Haruto, her expression unreadable, before sighing and returning to her sketch.

I waited till the sun slowly approached the horizon. Fortunately, the competition will be held on Monday, so we still have time to make progress with our work. Even better that today’s Friday.

What about classes, you ask? Haruto has already asked our club adviser for permission and said that he will inform the other teachers.

I take a look at where Haruto was working. Haruto was still at his desk, fussing over his latest painting, oblivious to the world around him.

“Hey, Miyuki-san,” I said, keeping my tone light as I approached her desk. “You alright?”

She looked up at me, her eyes briefly flickering with surprise before she nodded. “I’m fine.”

“You sure about that?” I asked, tilting my head slightly. “You seemed a little… stressed earlier.”

“I’m just tired. That’s all.”

“Can’t blame you. Balancing all this must be exhausting. Haruto-kun’s lucky to have you around.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she didn’t respond.

I leaned against the edge of her desk, lowering my voice slightly. “You know, it’s okay to let people know when you’ve had enough. You don’t have to carry everything on your own.”

She looked at me then, her gaze searching mine as if trying to figure out my intentions. “It’s not that simple.” she said quietly.

“Maybe not,” I admitted, shrugging. “But you’re only human, Miyuki-san. Even you have limits.”

She didn’t reply, but the faint flicker of uncertainty in her eyes told me I’d hit a nerve.

.

.

.

.

The clubroom felt emptier than usual as the session wrapped up. The earlier tension from Miyuki’s outburst lingered in the air, a heavy reminder of how close to the edge she was. Haruto was unusually quiet as he packed up his things, his usual energy replaced by a thoughtful, almost subdued demeanor. It wasn’t like him to dwell on things for long, but I could tell her words had hit him harder than he was letting on.

Miyuki, on the other hand, had already left, her bag slung over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hallway without a word. I stayed behind, pretending to fuss over my sketch as the other members filtered out one by one. The silence that followed was almost soothing, the kind that gave you time to think and plan.

I gathered my belongings slowly moving unhurriedly while I reflected on the day’s events. Miyuki’s displeasure with Haruto had been building for a while, and now was the first time she let it out. She wasn’t the sort to lose her cool quickly, which made her outburst even more noteworthy.

She’s breaking down, I thought, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. Haruto has no idea how to handle the situation. Just as I expected.

By the time I stepped out of the clubroom, the sky had darkened completely, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the school grounds. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of grass and earth. I stuffed my hands into my pockets as I walked down the empty path leading toward the gates, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the quiet.

The tension from earlier lingered in my mind, and I couldn’t help but replay the scene in my head. Miyuki’s sharp tone, the way her shoulders tensed as she spoke, the faint tremble in her voice—it was all so unlike her. She’d been holding it together for so long, balancing school, her idol career, and the club. But Haruto’s constant reliance on her was starting to push her to her limits.

“It’s about time the cracks are showing.” I said to myself, while looking up the dark colored sky.

I reached the school gates and paused for a moment, glancing back at the dimly lit building. The contest deadline is approaching, and with it, the pressure to perform. Haruto’s enthusiasm might have been the driving force behind the club, but it was Miyuki who held everything together. Without her, the entire project would fall apart.

“That’s the thing about pillars—they can only carry so much weight before they crack.”

I started walking again, the quiet rustle of leaves in the breeze the only sound accompanying me. The streets were deserted, the faint glow of the city lights in the distance offering a sense of solitude.

As I approached the train station, the faint sound of footsteps behind me made me pause. I turned, my eyes narrowing slightly as I spotted a familiar figure a few paces back.

Miyuki.

She walked with her head down, her bag clutched tightly in her hand. Even from a distance, I could see the tension in her posture, the way her steps seemed heavier than usual.

“Hey there.” I called out, my voice breaking the silence.

“Ishibara-san?” She looked up, startled, her eyes widening slightly as she recognized me.

“Didn’t think I’d run into you again tonight.” I said, falling into step beside her. “I thought you already went home.”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering toward the ground. “I had some things to finish,” she said quietly.

“Late night rehearsals for AQUARI?” I asked, glancing at her.

She shook her head. “Not today. Just… schoolwork.”

Her voice was soft, almost distracted. I studied her for a moment, noting the faint shadows under her eyes and the way she clutched her bag as though it were a lifeline.

“You seem tired.” I said after a moment.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s nothing new.”

“You know,” I said, breaking the quiet, “you don’t have to carry everything on your own.”

She turned to face me. Her eyes were sharp, but there was a flicker of something else beneath the surface—doubt, maybe, or exhaustion.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her tone defensive.

“Haruto-kun, the club, your idol work.” I said, ticking them off on my fingers. “It’s a lot for anyone to handle, even someone as capable as you.”

She frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m fine,” she said firmly.

“Are you?” I asked, meeting her gaze. “Because you don’t look fine to me earlier.”

Her hands tightened around the strap of her bag, her gaze dropping to the ground. 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… it feels like too much.” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

I tilted my head, watching her carefully. “And yet, you keep going. Why?”

“Because I have to,” she said, looking up at me. Her eyes were tired, but there was a stubborn determination in them. “People are counting on me. If I stop, everything falls apart.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and raw.

“Maybe,” I said after a moment. “But if you keep pushing yourself like this, you’re the one who’s going to fall apart.”

She flinched, the truth in my words striking a chord.

The faint rumble of an approaching train broke the silence, and she glanced toward the platform. “This is where we should part ways.” she said abruptly, her voice clipped.

I stepped aside, letting her pass. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Miyuki-san.”

She hesitated at the edge of the platform, her hand tightening on her bag before she turned back to look at me. “Goodnight, Ishibara-san.” she said softly, her eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary.

“Miyuki-san.” I called out to her. “If you need someone to talk to, I’ll hear you out.”

Reassuring her, she boarded the train and disappeared into the carriage, I couldn’t help but smile.