Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/822139838626691253/episodes/822139838627822750
Recently, Nanase’s popularity has been visibly rising.
In the mornings, she used to come over to my seat to talk most of the time, but lately she’s been chatting more with friends like Todo and Mishima.
Nanase keeps glancing my way, but she seems stuck surrounded by them, unable to break free.
Personally, I’d be incredibly grateful if Nanase just switched her dependency from me to her friends.
After all, her current state of relying solely on me isn’t good for Nanase herself.
If she had multiple people she could depend on, Nanase would likely stop contemplating suicide.
If she could feel truly “needed” by someone, her self-esteem would rise, and she should start becoming more independent.
“Hey, hey, your girlfriend’s getting popular, huh? You okay with this?”
“Huh?”
Morning classroom.
Seeing Nanase surrounded by Todo, Mishima, and the other girls, chatting and laughing again today, made me feel like a parent watching their child leave the nest. That’s when Aiba chimed in with his usual banter.
“Lately, she hasn’t been coming to see you during breaks either, huh? Doesn’t that make you feel lonely as her boyfriend?”
“…Not really.”
“You’re not being honest. Don’t say I didn’t warn you if it’s too late later.”
“Too late?”
“Lately, a lot of guys have been saying they like Nanase, you know? Just from what I know, there’s at least this many.”
Saying that, Aiba held up four fingers.
“Seriously…!”
“…Why do you look kinda happy about that?”
Four guys like Nanase?
With that many, maybe one of them will try to approach her or confess.
When that happens, I’ll push those two together.
If Nanase ends up with someone else, I can officially fade out.
“Whoever it is… tell them I’m rooting for them.”
“…You don’t have a cuckold fetish or something?”
“Huh?”
“No, it’s just that you’re her boyfriend, yet you’re saying stuff like giving salt to your rival… I thought you had some kind of special fetish…”
Aiba starts looking at me suspiciously.
I’m not some pervert who gets sexually excited watching her get taken by another guy.
I just want to wrap up this fake relationship quickly.
Keeping up the lie forever is too much trouble.
“Hoshikawa san!”
“Good morning, Hoshikawa san!!!”
“You look adorable again today, Hoshikawa san…!!”
Suddenly, the classroom entrance grew noisy.
“Oh…! She came again today…!! Our eyes’ feast…”
Aiba ‘seyes sparkled as she saw Hoshikawa, who had deliberately come from the neighboring class to ours again today.
“She’s adorable, isn’t she, Hoshikawa Rino? Did you see that MV posted yesterday? I’ve already replayed it like ten times…”
“An MV… She’s really putting in the effort…”
“Ever since that incident, her popularity’s skyrocketed. At this rate, that MV will hit a million views in days. Well, with Hoshikawa’s cuteness, it’s only natural, right?”
“…Yeah, I guess.”
“Still, why does she come to our class every morning? Does she like someone or something?”
“Maybe she’s just coming to see friends?”
“Rumor has it someone helped Hoshikawa during that incident… Could it be someone in this class…?”
“…”
“Hey, Ren. You know anything about it?”
“…No.”
Regarding that incident where Hoshikawa was attacked by a stalker, the only information circulating publicly is that an ordinary person saved her.
The fact that it was me hasn’t been revealed yet.
Of course, I’d never say anything myself.
I don’t want to get dragged into any more trouble.
“Ooh, Hoshikawa-san’s looking this way? Hey,
Ren!!”
“Hm? Nah, just a coincidence.”
“Kuu, so cute. Seriously, eye candy. Before, Shiraishi was my eye candy, but now it’s definitely Hoshikawa. Even Shiraishi can’t compare to a real idol…”
“Me?”
“…!?”
Aiba turned around with a robotic jerk of her neck.
Shiraishi was looking down at Haibara with cool, piercing eyes.
“H-h-h-hey, Shiraishi-san!?”
“Were you talking about me? I thought I heard my name.”
Shiraishi looked back and forth between me and Aiba .
Aiba shook his head vigorously.
“N-no, I wasn’t…!”
“You were. Seems this guy recently switched his favorite from you to Hoshikawa.”
“Ren!?”
“Hmm.”
Shiraishi responded indifferently, while Aiba shot me a resentful glare.
“Well, whatever. I don’t get why anyone would support me anyway—I’m not an idol.”
“No… that… that was just Ren joking around…”
“You like that sort of thing too?”
“Huh…?”
Shiraishi turned the question back to me.
She pointed towards Hoshikawa, who was near the classroom entrance.
“Idols. The classic type? Cute type, I guess. You like that?”
“Hmm… I guess so.”
Hoshikawa is definitely cute.
She’s the epitome of a classic beauty.
But I don’t have romantic feelings for her.
I know she wouldn’t notice me, and she’s a high school student who’s also a popular idol and celebrity—a completely unrealistic existence.
I see her as someone from a distant world; she’s not someone I could ever be interested in that way.
“Of course I think she’s cute. But that’s all.”
“So you do think she’s cute. Her face?”
“No, well… her… overall?”
“Her face, right?”
“…Um…”
“face, right?”
“face.”
“Haa…”
Shiraishi looked at me with a strangely contemptuous gaze.
It was unfair.
I deliberately avoided direct expressions because we were in front of a girl.
“W-Well, if we’re talking about faces… S-Shiraishi-san is… more my type… yeah…”
“Or rather, why does that girl keep coming to our class lately?”
I completely ignored Aiba, who was muttering something beside me.
“Do you know something?”
“No idea.”
“Really?”
“…Yeah.”
“I kinda feel like every time she comes, she keeps glancing your way.”
“…You’re imagining things, right?”
“You seriously don’t know anything?”
“…I don’t know.”
“…Yeah. Whatever.”
Shiraishi cut off the conversation with that and returned to her seat.
After Shiraishi left, Aiba shot me a resentful glare.
“Hey… What if Shiraishi-san hates me because of you?”
“Nah, I don’t think she thinks anything of us.”
“W-What?! I’m completely out of her mind!?”
An angry Aiba grabbed my uniform collar and shook me violently.
While we were having this ridiculous exchange, Hoshikawa went back to her own class. Soon after, the homeroom teacher arrived and class began.
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