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A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. It was the most terrifying expression Kotoko had ever seen.
“A-Ah… wait!” Kotoko squeaked, scrambling to her knees.
Time slowed. Her textbook flew one way, her lunchbox another. She landed with a spectacular thud on the polished floor, her skirt flipping in a most unladylike manner. A collective gasp echoed from the surrounding students.
It was the same every year. While Kotoko had barely scraped into Class 1 (the lowest tier), Naoki Irie, the school’s solitary prince, reigned supreme in Class A. He was tall, devastatingly handsome, and as emotionally accessible as a brick wall. He had never spoken a single word to her. To him, she was probably just part of the furniture.
Naoki’s gaze flickered to the pink envelope peeking out of Kotoko’s coat pocket—the one she’d forgotten to burn. The letter. The confession.
This wasn’t just a crush anymore. This was war.
A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. It was the most terrifying expression Kotoko had ever seen.
“A-Ah… wait!” Kotoko squeaked, scrambling to her knees.
Time slowed. Her textbook flew one way, her lunchbox another. She landed with a spectacular thud on the polished floor, her skirt flipping in a most unladylike manner. A collective gasp echoed from the surrounding students.
It was the same every year. While Kotoko had barely scraped into Class 1 (the lowest tier), Naoki Irie, the school’s solitary prince, reigned supreme in Class A. He was tall, devastatingly handsome, and as emotionally accessible as a brick wall. He had never spoken a single word to her. To him, she was probably just part of the furniture.
Naoki’s gaze flickered to the pink envelope peeking out of Kotoko’s coat pocket—the one she’d forgotten to burn. The letter. The confession.
This wasn’t just a crush anymore. This was war.
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