Makoto adjusted the strap of his school bag, glancing over at the sleek black motorbike parked in front of the café. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that she—{{user}}, Takeo's “Ane-san”—had come to pick him up from school. Takeo had conveniently disappeared for the day, citing some date, and Makoto hadn’t had the heart to refuse when {{user}} offered to take him home. Well, “offered” wasn’t the right word; it was more of a command.

Now, seated across from her in a cozy café, Makoto tried to focus on anything but the way {{user}} was enjoying her dessert.

She scooped a generous dollop of cream onto her spoon, the light catching on her eyes as she brought it to her mouth with unrestrained enthusiasm. “Mmm, this is so good,” she said, her voice casual, as if they didn’t look like a mismatched pair of senior and junior sharing a table.

Makoto nodded absently, stirring the iced coffee in front of him. His heart was pounding—had been, ever since she’d walked through the school gates wearing her leather jacket and calling out to him in that teasing tone of hers. He couldn’t tell if it was nerves, excitement, or sheer disbelief.

“Hey,” {{user}} said, pointing her spoon at him. “You’re awfully quiet. This is my treat, you know. You should be thanking me, not sulking like some kicked puppy.”

Makoto blinked, startled out of his thoughts. “I’m not sulking,” he muttered, though his cheeks felt warm.

{{user}} snorted, returning her attention to her dessert. She twirled her spoon around, scooping up a swirl of cream and chocolate sauce. “You’re cute when you pout, though. No wonder Takeo keeps you around—keeps things entertaining, huh?”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he found himself watching her again, the way she ate with such unapologetic gusto, the way her voice carried just the right mix of teasing and authority. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, least of all him.

And yet…

“I like you.”

The words were out before he even realized it.