Mind the Misunderstanding (Yukiya’s Perspective)
My first confession. My first heartbreak. That night, sleep never came—just as I’d expected.
Sure, the sting of rejection hurt, but more than that, I couldn’t stop obsessing over one impossible question: how was I supposed to act around Kanae from now on? The thought gnawed at me until morning.
With no answers in sight, I dragged myself out the door at my usual early hour for morning practice.
As I walked the quiet road to school, both my school bag and soccer gear slung over my shoulders, I passed Kanae’s house—just down the street from mine, right along the commute route.
My eyes instinctively drifted toward the window of her room, but I forced myself to look straight ahead, pretending everything was normal.
A few steps later, I realized—my arms and legs were swinging forward at the same time. That moment of awkward, uncoordinated panic filled me with overwhelming despair.
“No way… If I’m already like this, how the hell am I supposed to act in class?”
As fate would have it, I shared a class with both Kanae and Souta. The silver lining? At least my seat wasn’t near theirs. If I’d been stuck between them… just imagining it made my blood run cold.
Up until yesterday, I’d clung to Kanae and Souta during breaks just to have an excuse to talk to her. But now? It’d be way too awkward—and more than anything, I didn’t want to make Kanae feel uncomfortable.
I figured I’d spend lunch in the clubroom, and during the shorter breaks, I’d either chat with someone nearby or retreat to the bathroom.
While laying out this thoroughly pathetic plan to avoid Kanae, I looked up—and there I was, already at school.
Seriously… how focused was I on this nonsense?
Thoroughly disgusted with myself, I slumped my shoulders and headed toward the clubroom.
“No doubt the senpai are gonna grill me about the confession…”
Before confessing to Kanae, I’d floated the idea to a few close seniors on the soccer team. If I went to the clubroom now, I was bound to run into them.
Bracing for whatever teasing might come, I opened the clubroom door—and yep, there they were.
“Yo, Yukiya. How’d the confession go?”
“Did you get the girl?”
The questions came right off the bat. Their tone was casual, but not mocking.
“Well… it was a total failure!”
I figured there was no point getting gloomy, so I forced a laugh and announced it loud and clear.
The senpai gave me sympathetic, wry smiles.
“Haha, seriously? Well, hey—on to the next one, right?”
“Just hit on a girl from another school during the next practice match. There’s always that ‘special someone from outside’ vibe going on.”
“C’mon, it’s just one rejection. Time for a revenge round.”
“Man, I got turned down twenty times before my current girlfriend said yes. I’ve been at it since middle school.”
Encouragement? Advice? Honestly, their words fell somewhere in between.
But still—twenty times? That’s insane. If someone confessed to me that many times, I’d start thinking it was a joke. His girlfriend must have the patience of a saint.
In my case, though, Kanae already likes someone else. Bombarding her with confessions would just be harassment at that point.
“Anyway… it’s awkward, so I’m just gonna keep my distance for a while. It’s not like I’m gonna suddenly fall for someone else.”
My lukewarm response seemed to take the wind out of the room, and the conversation naturally shifted back to club-related stuff.
In the end, it was just a confession that didn’t go anywhere—nothing more, nothing less.
But even if that’s all it was, just telling the senpai about it made me feel a little lighter.
After morning practice, I headed back to my classroom.
With my school bag and soccer gear still weighing down my shoulders, I quickened my pace, eager to unload everything.
Our class was known for cutting it close in the mornings, so the room was still pretty empty.
“Ah—”
“Wha—?”
That’s when it happened. Our eyes met—too directly to pretend it hadn’t.
What…? Why is Kanae here?
She was sitting at her usual window seat, like always.
But it was way too early for her. And Souta, who usually came with her, was nowhere in sight.
Did she… come alone? At this hour?
Both of us froze, eyes wide, locked in a silent stare from across the room.
Then Kanae quickly broke eye contact, and I panicked, rushing to drop off my bags and bolt from the classroom.
“Wait, seriously, what’s she doing here so early? And she was totally looking at me, right? What’s going on?”
Out in the hallway, I was visibly shaken, flustered beyond saving.
My brain went haywire with dumb, wishful thoughts: “Did she come early because of me?” “We made eye contact—that means she was looking at me, right?” “Was she… blushing?” “Could it be that Kanae actually… likes me too?”
“No, no, no. She turned me down yesterday, remember?”
Scolding myself, I headed toward the sink area at the end of the hall. I needed to splash some cold water on my face and snap out of it.
After rinsing my face a few times, the chaos inside me started to settle.
I reached into my pocket for a handkerchief, eyes still closed, hands wet—which, of course, made it more difficult than expected.
“Um, here…”
Just then, a soft voice reached me—and something light and gentle brushed against my searching hand.
“Ah, thanks…”
I took it instinctively, dabbing it against my face—then froze in place, spine stiffening.
Wait… what is this? A towel? Why? And that voice just now—!
I know this is gonna sound super weird, but… I recognized the scent on the towel pressed to my face.
Hesitantly, I lowered it—and looked up.
“K-Kanae…?!”
Sure enough, Kanae was standing right in front of me—the one who’d handed it over.
Her eyes were downcast, but she stood there, close, not saying a word.
I had the sudden urge to sniff the towel again but held myself back and managed to ask:
“Uh… Th-Thanks. But, um, why…?”
Even in the confusion, I couldn’t stop my cheeks from softening at the sight of her.
“I… I just happened to be passing by… or something?”
For some reason, her explanation came out like a question.
I mean… how does someone just happen to pass by the dead-end of the hallway? But I figured pressing her would only make things worse.
“R-Right… Well, thanks for the towel! I’ll wash it and return it later!”
“Oh—no, it’s fine. You can just keep it.”
Kanae said it softly, almost like she was checking my reaction.
“Eh? But…”
“I-I’m going to use it again later, so…”
So… she didn’t want me to take it with me?
Accepting that logic, I thanked her again and returned the towel.
If only I had the guts to say something cool like, “Don’t give me mixed signals…” But with Kanae’s kindness, her thoughtfulness—and that scent—I couldn’t help the little spark of happiness rising inside me.
Damn it… I can’t keep a straight face.
My cheeks pulled up, mouth twitching into an involuntary grin. I clenched my jaw to keep it under control, but it only made it worse.
“W-Well, see you then…”
Without lifting her gaze, Kanae turned and walked away.
Thankfully, I managed not to let her see my weird, twitchy face.
But just borrowing a towel… and I’m already spiraling into “Maybe she does like me?” or “There’s still a chance, right?!” mode. God, I sound like some delusional middle schooler.
“No no no—Kanae likes Souta. Stop being an idiot…”
Even as I muttered that stern reminder to myself, I couldn’t help but cringe at my own misplaced optimism.