“So, Genya-kun… you and Class President Asou were *that* close before…?”

Hina Mizuno’s question pulled Ayumu Genya and Yui Asou back from their drifting thoughts. Ayumu clearly sensed the quiet loneliness in her words—but had no clue why.

Ayumu’s confusion didn’t mean Yui was in the dark. Watching Hina’s wounded expression, Yui felt a flicker of schadenfreude. She crushed it instantly. A chill ran down her spine. *This inner corruption… it’s getting worse. Like I’ve given up entirely.*

“Class President Asou—no, *Yui* and I’ve known each other since elementary school, I think.”

Ayumu slipped into old habit, using the formal title. Yui shot him a sharp glare. Survival instincts kicked in—he corrected himself immediately.

“Third grade, to be precise.”

Yui added the detail. Truth was, Ayumu had completely forgotten; Yui remembered crystal clear. Rare.

Hina let her bangs fall back over her forehead, hiding her bright eyes beneath the thick fringe.

Seeing her dejected look, Ayumu felt a pang of sympathy—but froze, unsure how to comfort her. Why *was* she upset? He had decades of life experience, yet Hina was his only “girlfriend” in forty-plus years… and fake at that. Female logic remained a mystery. Then—a bold thought, borrowed from Zhang Chufan’s binge-watching of Chinese youth dramas: *Could she… actually be jealous?*

*No no no. Real life doesn’t pull melodramatic twists like that!*

He shut it down hard.

*If Genya-kun and Class President Asou are this close… should I keep my distance?*

Yui had always protected her in class. Ayumu had been the one who bullied her. Even if she liked the changed him now… the choice felt obvious.

“Lunch break’s almost over—we haven’t even eaten!”

Yui smoothly shifted the topic, deliberately mentioning lunch to test Ayumu’s reaction.

Ayumu, just dismissing another wild theory, jolted awake. *Less than ten minutes left.* His rooftop bento still sat untouched on his desk.

“Class President Asou… you didn’t bring one either?”

“Woke up late. Didn’t have time.”

Yui lied to Hina without batting an eye. She *had* made one—denied it on purpose to see Ayumu’s move.

Unbeknownst to him, Yui already knew about yesterday’s bento for Hina. And that she’d watched him leave class with it today. He remained utterly oblivious to her little scheme.

“I’ve got an extra bento. Should be enough for you and Mizuno.”

Only Ayumu had brought food—a two-serving portion. As a healthy, mature guy, “sacrificing” lunch felt natural.

But Hina saw it differently. *They’re childhood friends. I’m just the most invisible of his ordinary friends. I don’t belong between them.*

“I’ll skip it. Really not hungry. Genya-kun and Class President Asou should eat.”

Her insistence made Ayumu hesitate. *Wait… is she actually not hungry?*

“Forget it. You and Yui eat. You’re girls—you’ll crash this afternoon without lunch.”

He didn’t overthink it. Ignoring her protests, he turned and headed back to his seat.

The moment he left, Yui—silent until now—leaned toward Hina. “Ayumu… planning to keep making bentos *for you*?”

Surface-level curiosity. Real message: *You can’t keep accepting this, can you?*

The words struck true. Hina instantly knew she should refuse. Watching her flinch, Yui’s heart dimmed. *I’m scared of my own scheming.*

Ayumu returned with the bento to find both girls solemn, lost in thought.

*I was gone less than a minute… why do they look so down?*

“This is Chinese cuisine I taught myself. Hope you don’t mind, Yui.”

Clueless and cautious, Ayumu offered the polite line to break the ice.

“I had *no* idea you cooked! And self-taught Chinese food?!”

Yui played intrigued—though her surprise was mostly feigned. She’d already seen it yesterday. Hina hadn’t mentioned it; Yui hadn’t pressed.

Naive Ayumu figured: *She didn’t ask about the two-serving bento. No need to explain. Avoid misunderstandings.*

He didn’t know Hina had told Yui on day one to ease her bias. That confession sparked Yui’s jealousy… leading her to follow Hina to the rooftop the next day and witness them sharing lunch.

“Been into Chinese culture lately. Wanted to try.”

“No wonder! The other day you were muttering super chuunibyou stuff like *‘Dao tong, bu xiang mou’*…”

Yui had no idea her offhand remark dealt Ayumu a critical hit. *That* day—after parting ways with Takagi Yohei’s group—he’d muttered the Chinese proverb *“Dao bu tong, bu xiang mou”* (When paths diverge, partnership is impossible)… *in Mandarin*. Recalling it now, Ayumu cringed. *How utterly chuunibyou was I?!*

“You two eat first. I’ll be right back—gotta use the restroom.”

Ayumu blurted the excuse and bolted. He didn’t go to the bathroom. He dashed to the school store, bought a bread roll, and scarfed it down.

He slipped back into class just as the afternoon bell rang. The moment he sat, a message from Hina Mizuno lit up his screen.