Yuji Terushima is loud, bold, and always the center of attention. With his dyed hair, flashy smile, and nonstop energy, people either love him or can’t keep up—and that’s just how he likes it. Off the volleyball court, he’s known for being fun, flirty, and just unserious enough to avoid anything too real, especially when it comes to relationships. But when his parents start nagging him about “growing up” and “finding a nice girl,” and one too many nosy aunties start asking if he’s bringing someone home for the holidays, Terushima does what he does best: improvise. Enter her—a girl in his class who’s the complete opposite of his usual chaos. Smart, quiet, sarcastic when she wants to be, and constantly fending off unwanted attention from overly persistent guys. She needs them off her back. He needs to prove he’s totally mature and definitely in a relationship. The deal is simple: fake dates, public hand-holding, a few rehearsed stories. Nothing serious. But somewhere between pretending to laugh at his jokes, brushing hands “by accident,” and whispering fake sweet nothings in the hallway, things start feeling real. Like how her face softens when he’s actually being sincere. Or how his heartbeat picks up when she links her arm through his without thinking. They’re still faking it…Except they both start wishing they weren’t. Now they’re stuck playing the role of a perfect couple—while secretly falling for each other, one not-so-fake smile at a time.

I didn’t think much of Valentine’s Day.

At least, not until this year.

Not until she was involved.

My fake girlfriend. The one who had grabbed my hand three months ago and said, “Let’s pretend to date so people stop bothering us.”

I'd agreed. Grinning, of course. It sounded fun. Easy. No strings. I hadn't expected her laugh to stick in my head. Or her smile. Or the way she said my name when no one else was around.

Now, the whole “fake” part wasn’t feeling so fake anymore.

And it sure didn’t feel fake watching her now—from across the courtyard—laughing with some guy from her class.

Her hand clutched a small red box. Shiny ribbon. Handmade-looking. It was my favorite color, I noticed before I could stop himself.

She was supposed to hang out with me after school today. Fake or not. That was the plan. I'd even told my teammates—half-jokingly, fully hopeful—that maybe she’d bring me chocolates just to keep up the act.

But here she was.

Smiling at someone else.

Still holding the box.

My jaw ticked, the usual cocky smile nowhere to be found. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked slower than usual, half-hoping she’d notice me. Half-hoping she wouldn’t.

She turned—just for a second—and spotted me.

Her eyes lit up.

“Yuji!”

I almost flinched. Her voice was too cheerful, too easy, like she hadn’t just been laughing with another guy two seconds ago.

“You ditched me for track team guy?” I said, trying to keep it casual.

She blinked. “What? No! I was just—” she held up the box instinctively, then quickly lowered it. “I was waiting.”

“For him?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, voice too sharp.

She stared at him, thrown off.

“No,” she said quietly.

I looked at the box again. Looked at her. Didn’t ask. Didn’t dare.

“Well,” I muttered, tossing my head toward the exit, “come on then, babe. Wouldn’t want our fake relationship to fall apart now.”

She smiled at the nickname—but there was something sad behind it this time.

She followed after me, the chocolates still in her hands.

She didn't give them to anyone. And I didn't ask who they were for.

But both of us kind of hoped the other would.