Heartbeats and Illusions

Later that night, in the grand mansion of the Shinomiya family, a girl dressed in elegant pajamas was rolling across her bed in a fit of giddy excitement.

"Ahhhh! I held hands with the president!" Kaguya exclaimed for what felt like the hundredth time, her voice muffled as she buried her face into a pillow.

"Miss Kaguya, it's already past eleven," Hayasaka Ai, her ever-reliable maid, reminded her with a sigh. "You should really get some rest."

"But I can't sleep!" Kaguya sat up abruptly, her cheeks glowing pink. She clasped her hands to her chest, a dreamy expression on her face. "The president held my hand... What could possibly come next...?"

Hayasaka, standing by the bed with a look of mild exasperation, pointed to the phone Kaguya had been clutching tightly all evening. "If you're this restless, why not message Master Natsukawa and invite him out tomorrow?"

"I can't do that!" Kaguya shook her head vehemently. "Asking him out so soon... that's moving too fast!"

"..." Hayasaka's expression deadpanned. You held his hand, but inviting him out is 'too fast'?

"You don't understand, Hayasaka!" Kaguya huffed, rolling onto her side. "Holding hands is one thing, but going out together... what if something unexpected happens?"

The maid resisted the urge to point out Kaguya's glaring contradiction and instead sighed heavily.

"Miss Kaguya," Hayasaka began, her tone laced with patience, "if I may be blunt, overanalyzing every small detail will only make things more complicated."

"But I can't help it!" Kaguya wailed dramatically, flopping onto her back. "What if he misunderstood my intentions? Or worse, what if I misunderstood his?!"

"Miss, with all due respect, if this keeps up, you'll give yourself a headache before anything progresses."

Hayasaka Ai let out a long, exasperated sigh, gazing out the window of Kaguya's room as the moonlight spilled across the plush carpet. The eldest daughter of the Shinomiya family—heiress, genius, perfection personified—had completely fallen head over heels for the president, Natsukawa Kanade. And it wasn't just a crush. No, it was an earth-shattering, life-consuming, adolescent first love.

The realization felt like an unwelcome thunderstorm for Hayasaka.

If Natsukawa Kanade were someone ordinary, it wouldn't have been so bad. But he wasn't. He was charming, yes, but also a total enigma. One moment he seemed completely indifferent, and the next, he'd sweep in with a move so smooth it felt rehearsed.

"He's such a scumbag," Hayasaka muttered under her breath, careful not to let her charge hear.

Despite all her investigations, Natsukawa Kanade remained a puzzle she couldn't solve. He claimed he wasn't interested in Kaguya, yet he hovered just close enough to keep her guessing. Today's events only added fuel to the fire. Why hold her hand so casually, knowing full well what it would mean to her? Was it just his way of teasing her?

Hayasaka shook her head. This was no ordinary crush Kaguya harbored. Her young mistress had already gone so far as to reject suitors far more accomplished, handsome, and family-approved—all for Kanade.

"I can already tell," Hayasaka whispered to herself. "This love story is going to be a battlefield."

Meanwhile, Natsukawa Kanade lay sprawled across his bed, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. He'd been like this for over an hour, trapped in an endless loop of overthinking.

Kaguya Shinomiya's hand—soft, warm, and so unexpectedly intimate—kept replaying in his mind like a broken record.

"Does she... like me?" he muttered aloud, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was a question he couldn't answer. For as long as he'd known her, Kaguya Shinomiya had been a fortress of icy composure. She was sharp, calculating, and always kept her emotions locked away behind an iron curtain.

But today...

Today, she smiled at him. Not the polite, reserved smile she used in public, but something warmer—something that felt real.

He rolled onto his side, clutching his pillow as if it could somehow shield him from his own thoughts.

"Maybe I misunderstood everything," he muttered, burying his face into the fabric. "Maybe the person she likes isn't me, but..."

Baiyin Yuxing.

The name floated into his mind like an unwelcome specter. After all, wasn't he the one Kaguya was supposed to have feelings for? The one who had always seemed like her ideal match?

Kanade groaned, flipping onto his back again. His brain felt like it was on fire, a chaotic mess of confusion and doubt.

"No way," he said aloud, trying to convince himself. "There's no way Kaguya Shinomiya likes me."

And yet, something nagged at him.

For as long as he could remember, Kaguya had been his rival. They clashed over everything—academic scores, student council policies, even who could stack papers faster. She never treated him with warmth, let alone affection.

But today was different.

Today, she smiled. She blushed. She held his hand.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" Kanade groaned, rubbing his temples.

In the past, he would've jumped at the chance to confess. If Kaguya had even hinted at liking him, he wouldn't have hesitated to pour his heart out. But now...

Now, things were different.

He couldn't bring himself to confess. Not because he didn't like her—no, that wasn't it. The truth was, he didn't know if what he felt was real.

Kanade sat up in bed, staring at his hands.

"I'm not the same person I used to be," he thought, clenching his fists.

In the past, he believed that love could grow from proximity. That even if his feelings weren't genuine at first, spending time together would make them real. But now he realized how naive that was.

"Fake love is still fake," he muttered. "Even if it becomes real later, it's not the same."

If he confessed now, without knowing his true feelings, it would be a betrayal—not just to Kaguya but to himself.

That's why, instead of telling her how he felt, he asked her to stay by his side as vice president. It was a coward's move, perhaps, but it felt safer.

"When I'm ready," he whispered to himself, "when I'm absolutely sure, I'll tell her."

He imagined that day. He'd stand in front of Kaguya, look her in the eyes, and say it with unwavering conviction: "I like you. Please go out with me."

If she accepted, he'd be the happiest person alive. And if she rejected him...

"Well, I'd survive," he thought with a bitter smile.

Rejection wouldn't break him. It might sting—heck, it might devastate him—but at least it would be honest.

For now, though, he needed time. Time to figure out his feelings. Time to grow.

Kanade lay back down, pulling the blanket over his head.

"Goodnight," he murmured, closing his eyes.

"Goodnight... me of the past."