What was the point of figuring it out now? At best, it helped him understand Yukino's current mood—why someone usually so composed and rational was suddenly brimming with frustration in front of a girl she had only just met. But ultimately, it was never really about Eriri, was it? No, the true target of that cold, biting reprimand had always been him.
And yet, what could he do? Could he simply apologize and expect things to go back to how they used to be?
Of course not.
Back then, his approach to Yukino had been riddled with ulterior motives, while she had merely regarded him as a friend. And now? Now he had long since realized that his so-called "love" had never been the real thing. Even if some lingering affection had remained, it had eroded over time, replaced—no, overwritten—by something else entirely.
"I appreciate your concern, and I understand your point, but Eriri has nothing to do with this. There's no reason to drag her into it." Natsukawa Kanade's voice was steady, his stance firm as he instinctively moved to shield Eriri from Yukino's piercing gaze.
Maybe he was overstepping, but watching the little golden retriever shrink under the weight of Yukino's words stirred something in him. Even if Yukino's logic was sound, even if she wasn't entirely wrong, he couldn't just stand by and watch Eriri take the brunt of it.
Yes, he was the student council president. Yes, the expectations placed on him were high. But did that mean he had to tiptoe around every interaction, second-guessing his every move, constantly policing himself for fear of how others might perceive him?
That would be too suffocating.
Besides, Yukino's information was outdated.
Things had changed. With the backing of Kaguya and Chika—two of the most influential girls in Shuchiin—alongside the reputation he had meticulously built over the past months, his position as student council president was untouchable. The so-called "scandals" that were supposed to be ammunition against him had instead become proof of his "strong social connections."
But then—
As Yukino looked at him standing protectively in front of Eriri, something in her expression shifted. Her icy composure wavered, just for a moment. A flicker of something unspoken passed through her deep blue eyes, something unreadable yet oddly heavy. It was as if a burden she had unknowingly been carrying had suddenly settled in place, making itself known.
And then—
"So this is your stance, then?" Her voice was calm, yet tinged with something that Kanade couldn't quite place. "Because of her?"
Her words were directed at him, but her gaze never left Eriri.
For a second, Kanade was at a loss.
What did she mean? Was she referring to him standing up for Eriri? But that was only natural—what happened here shouldn't have involved anyone else. If Yukino had something to say to him, they could discuss it later, in private.
"You don't seem to be in the best state of mind right now," he said carefully. "Maybe we should talk about this another time."
"No need." Yukino shook her head, the ghost of a smirk touching her lips. "I'm perfectly calm. And besides… I've already said everything I needed to say."
She had nothing left to add. There was no point in dragging this out further. What was lost was lost, and what was left unsaid would remain so. Even if she had realized something—something she should have seen much sooner—it was already too late. She couldn't allow herself to linger, couldn't afford to play the role of the pitiful girl who hesitated, hoping for something that was no longer hers to have.
So, she would let it go. She would leave those past moments as nothing more than fleeting, distant memories.
"I have other matters to attend to," she said as she began gathering her things. Her movements were precise, almost mechanical, as if she was forcing herself to follow through with the decision she had just made.
And then, just as she turned to leave—
"Oh, and about what Hiratsuka-sensei mentioned to you," she added over her shoulder, her voice even but distant. "Just forget about it. I can handle it myself—you don't need to concern yourself with it."
Kanade blinked, taken aback.
What Hiratsuka-sensei mentioned to him?
If he remembered correctly, the last time he had spoken to Hiratsuka-sensei was—
That night outside the hot springs.
Due to an unfortunate mix-up at the front desk, they had mistaken him for a teacher and given him the wrong directions. That was how he had ended up in the teachers' only bathhouse. Just as he was about to make his escape, dressed hastily and moving as stealthily as possible, he had bumped right into her.
She had teased him relentlessly, of course. That was just her nature. But beyond the playful jabs, had there been something more to that encounter? Had she said something to Yukino afterward?
So when Yukino told him not to take it to heart, was she referring to this incident? Was she trying to reassure him that Hiratsuka-sensei wouldn't spread the story to anyone else?
That seemed like the most logical explanation. But something about it didn't sit right with him.
Would Yukino really make such a simple slip-up? She was always composed, always calculating. It wasn't like her to accidentally let something slip—especially something embarrassing.
No, his gut told him there was more to this than met the eye. There had to be something else. Something he wasn't seeing yet.
Maybe he should find an opportunity to talk to Yukino again.
Just as Natsukawa Kanade was lost in thought, furiously trying to piece everything together, a small, timid voice finally broke the silence.
"Have I done something wrong?"
Kanade blinked, momentarily pulled from his spiraling thoughts.
"Huh? No, why do you suddenly say that?"
The little golden retriever at his side—Eriri—had been quiet for a while, but now she looked up at him with an expression that was equal parts uncertainty and guilt.
"But that girl just now… she was right, wasn't she? I've been causing you trouble all this time."
Her voice wavered, and Kanade felt his chest tighten.
"What are you talking about?" He frowned slightly, confused by her sudden self-reproach. "You haven't—"
"But I have," she interrupted, her tone filled with regret.
As if replaying all her past mistakes, Eriri bit her lip. Memories flashed through her mind—the times she had let her emotions get the best of her, the times she had been stubborn, the times she had relied on Kanade more than she should have. Like the time she had fought with that loudmouth and ended up lost, or the time she had fallen sick and nearly derailed the entire illustration deadline.
And yet, every single time, Kanade had been there to save her.
He had always been there, her unwavering knight.
And she… she had never truly told him how much that meant to her.
Eriri's fingers twitched as she instinctively reached out for the hem of his jacket, just like she always did.
But this time, she couldn't quite reach it.
For some reason, the distance between them felt farther than ever before.
And just like that, an ache settled deep in her chest. Regret swelled within her, a terrible, suffocating weight.
Was it too late? Had she already lost the chance to be by his side?
The words she wanted to say burned in her throat.
She wanted to tell him. She wanted to scream it.
I love you.
I love you so much that I'd be willing to change everything about myself just to stand beside you.
I love you so much that even just holding your hand would make me the happiest girl in the world.
I love you so much that I want to say it, over and over again, until you finally believe it.
But at the same time… she was afraid.
Afraid of his rejection.
Afraid that he wouldn't take her seriously.
Afraid that he would just smile at her, brush it off, and walk away—leaving her alone, unable to even stay close as a friend.
If that happened, she wouldn't even have her small wish. The simple wish of staying by his side.
"Kanade…" she whispered.
And then, as if drawn by the sound of her voice, he turned to her.
"I'm here."