“Eeeeeek——!!!”
Miura Koharu was so thoroughly frightened that her soul nearly left her body.
She practically jumped up from the long bench, a distorted short scream spilling from her throat.
Without even seeing who it was, she instinctively tried to swat the hand away and recoil.
Her phone slipped from her grasp, landing in the gap of the bench with a dull thump.
Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, and her mind went completely blank.
Who? Was it those people? What did they want? To grab her off the street? Or push her off the platform?
Miura Koharu glanced instinctively at the road behind her.
A bus had just pulled up and stopped right at her back.
—Wrong route. Not the one I need to take.
“Miura, why are you so scared?”
A slightly cold yet incredibly familiar girl’s voice splashed over Miura Koharu’s tangled nerves like a bucket of ice water.
Huh?
A beat late, she turned her head.
What came into view was that signature chestnut-colored curly hair and those eyes that always carried three parts displeasure and seven parts pride.
It was Kondo Haruka herself, Kanzaki Sou’s childhood friend.
She was wearing a light, dark-colored sports outfit, with a few strands of hair plastered to her forehead, as if she had just finished training?
Miura Koharu let out a huge sigh of relief, slumping back onto the bench as she gasped for breath.
The sense of post-crisis exhaustion made it so she could barely clench her fists—Why is she here in Sakuragicho?
Just as the question surfaced in Miura Koharu’s mind, she realized she needed to greet Kondo Haruka.
Because right now, Kondo Haruka was frowning slightly, staring with a complex gaze fixed firmly on Miura Koharu, who hadn’t yet recovered from the shock.
“Kon… Kondo-san.”
“I can see you were almost scared to death.”
Kondo Haruka withdrew her hand and shoved both into her pockets.
She didn’t tease her as usual; instead, her expression grew even more complicated.
After saying that, she didn’t continue immediately.
She stared at Miura Koharu for a good while before muttering, “Why are you here alone?”
“What about those noisy friends of yours? Not together?”
“Ah, well… I…”
Miura Koharu’s mind was racing.
Crap.
The problem was, why was Kondo Haruka here?
She hadn’t planned on involving Kondo Haruka in the later activities, precisely because she was afraid that getting her more involved in this matter would increase the chances of dragging Kanzaki Sou directly into it.
“I… we came out to play together. I ran into a relative, so I said goodbye to them first.”
Miura Koharu stammered out the excuse she had prepared earlier, fumbling her way through.
“She hasn’t come over yet, so I’m waiting for the bus and waiting for her at the same time.”
…Please don’t say something like we should go home together, Kondo-san.
Otherwise, I’ll be busted and won’t have anything to say to Yui.
“Ran into a relative, huh.”
Kondo Haruka repeated flatly, her tone betraying neither like nor dislike.
But after saying that, she didn’t walk away immediately. Instead, she took half a step forward.
That oppressive aura pressed down on Koharu sitting on the bench at that moment.
“Miura.”
Kondo Haruka’s eyes were fixed on the ground beside her, her voice cutting through the noisy traffic with unusual clarity.
“When you were waiting for the bus, you were chatting, weren’t you?”
“No, I wasn’t… I was just checking to see if the bus was coming.”
Miura Koharu’s heart jolted, but she immediately acted as if nothing was wrong.
To cover up the inevitable guilt, Miura Koharu looked away and reached down to pick up her phone that had fallen into the gap.
But her move was still a beat too slow.
As she lowered her head, Miura Koharu realized what Kondo Haruka had been looking at just now.
The screen, still lit because she hadn’t locked it in time, was facing directly toward Kondo Haruka’s line of sight.
Miura Koharu’s heart skipped a violent beat.
Damn it.
The LIME chat interface was clearly visible on the screen. The avatar and nickname next to the chat bubbles all showed the name of that account.
【SS】
At that moment, the noise of the station seemed to vanish entirely.
Miura Koharu felt her breath catch for an instant.
Those eyes, which had only been complex a moment ago, now revealed their emotions quite plainly.
The pressure in the air seemed to solidify into something tangible, crushing the breath out of her.
“—Miura.”
Kondo Haruka’s voice rang out again.
This time, that coldness had vanished, replaced by an extremely tense, deliberately forced calm.
She tilted her head slightly, her gaze following Miura Koharu’s hand as she picked up the phone, staring directly at that interface.
Warning.
“You there, who were you chatting with?”
It was a question, but to Miura Koharu, it sounded like Koharu’s hand gripping her phone trembled slightly right before an explosion.
What should I do?
Kondo Haruka had already seen that account clearly.
Her intuition, so sensitive to anything related to Kanzaki Sou, and her personality that wouldn’t let anything concerning him slide.
If Kondo Haruka kept pressing, how was she supposed to explain?
She wasn’t even sure if she could get Kanzaki Sou to back up her excuse.
The moment Kondo Haruka asked him later, she’d know she was lying.
Kondo Haruka’s sharp, scrutinizing eyes, like a hawk’s, looked especially cold under the station’s white incandescent lamps.
Leaning forward slightly so her chestnut-colored curls fell over her shoulders, Kondo Haruka’s pressure enveloped Miura Koharu without reservation.
“Um, Kondo-san—”
“Cang-kun.”
Kondo Haruka slowly uttered that name, her tone flat and devoid of any inflection.
“That… Kondo-san, please let me explain.”
Miura Koharu spoke dryly, her voice carrying an uncontrollable sob. It actually saved her the effort of her usual act of weakness; right now, she was genuinely close to crying from fear.
“It’s not what you think. Kanzaki-kun, he, he was just discussing with me… some school matters?”
What was that? What kind of nonsense am I saying?
Miura Koharu felt like crying but had no tears.
“…It’s nothing, Miura. You don’t need to be so tense.”
Kondo Haruka blinked.
“It’s not like I’m going to do anything. Besides, do you think I’m so petty that I won’t even let you talk to Cang-kun?”
“Eh…”
Miura Koharu was stunned.
What’s going on?
Had the sun really risen from the west? Was Kondo Haruka not angry?
“Kondo-san, you—”
“Yeah, I really am that petty.”
The very next second, Kondo Haruka shattered Miura Koharu’s illusion.
“…”
Miura Koharu was now utterly speechless.
“Alright, what exactly are you two talking about? Tell me quickly and concisely.”
“Is it the anonymous letter again?”
Kondo Haruka frowned after hearing that. “Didn’t you already talk to Cang-kun about it before?”
Miura Koharu clamped her mouth shut.
She couldn’t say any more. Saying even a little more would drag Sakuragicho into this.
She felt as frantic as an ant scurrying in circles, with nowhere to hide under Kondo Haruka’s suspicious gaze.