Heartbeats and Illusions

As any self-respecting otaku knows, girls are made of sugar, spice, and a generous sprinkle of something that makes them utterly unpredictable—let's call it chaos. For boys, even the faintest exchange of saliva can cause them to lose all rational thought. But nothing could prepare Natsukawa Kanade for the day he'd end up with coffee sprayed across his face.

Yes, coffee.

"I'm so sorry, Senpai! Iroha really didn't mean it! I swear!" Isshiki Iroha's voice wavered, completely out of sync with her usual smug and devil-may-care attitude. For once, the little devil schoolgirl was all apologies, bowing so low it seemed her forehead might hit the table. Her big eyes shimmered with guilt—or at least a very convincing imitation of it.

But for Kanade, none of her theatrics registered. His mind had gone numb, like he'd been hit by a full-body anesthesia.

It had all started with one simple goal: to see Iroha squirm as she tried to stomach the bitter espresso he'd slyly convinced her to try. He'd pictured her cringing, her confident façade crumbling as she struggled to keep the liquid down. What he hadn't accounted for was her spitting it out.

Directly. Onto. His. Face.

The damage was extensive: coffee had splattered not just his face but also his neck, chest, and shoulders. Every inch of him above the table was a battlefield marked with sticky, aromatic casualties. His saving grace? He'd chosen to wear a dark-colored shirt that day, so at least the stains weren't glaringly obvious.

Still, his dignity had taken a critical hit.

"... Senpai, are you okay?" Iroha's voice broke through his daze. She sounded timid, but the glint in her eyes betrayed a flicker of mischief. Deep down, she probably thought he deserved it. After all, he had lied about the coffee being sweet.

Kanade inhaled sharply, his expression a perfect mask of indifference. "Let's go back."

"Eh? Go back… as in, to your house to change clothes?" Iroha's face lit up for a moment, before dimming into disappointment. The thought that her first outing with her senpai might end prematurely was clearly unwelcome.

Kanade's gaze remained steady. "Go back and eat. Wasting food is unacceptable."

For all the chaos she brought into his life, Kanade couldn't abandon the poor espresso that had been so cruelly rejected. Besides, he'd be paying for the meal, coffee-stained or not. His clothes were already a lost cause, so what difference did a few more minutes make?

"Oh! Okay, Senpai!" Iroha chirped, her disappointment vanishing in an instant. She followed him back to their table with an obedient bounce in her step, though the sly grin creeping onto her face hinted at her delight in his misfortune.

When they returned, their untouched orders were still intact, though the strawberry sundae Iroha had ordered earlier had melted slightly. Kanade noted this with detached amusement—it wasn't his problem, after all.

"Senpai," Iroha began, her tone suddenly honeyed, "as an apology, would you like to try this sundae? It's really good!"

Kanade raised an eyebrow. "You eat it. I don't want it."

The suggestion reeked of ulterior motives. Knowing Iroha, she probably intended to trick him into finishing the less appetizing parts. While her tactics might have worked on someone else, Kanade wasn't about to fall for such an obvious ploy.

"Aw, Senpai, don't be like that! Iroha really wants to share it with you. It's not like I'm trying to make you eat the parts I don't like or anything!"

"...You didn't have to say it out loud," Kanade muttered, his patience thinning.

Iroha's face twisted into a playful pout. "You're so mean, Senpai! I'm trying to be nice here, and this is how you treat me?"

"You'd better finish eating quickly," Kanade said, steering the conversation back on track. "We still have other things to do."

"Other things? Senpai, are you saying we're going to keep hanging out even though you're covered in coffee stains?" Iroha's expression was one of exaggerated shock, though her teasing tone made it clear she found the idea hilarious.

"Whose fault do you think that is?" Kanade shot back, his deadpan delivery hitting its mark.

"Well, it's getting dark, so no one will notice the stains unless they look really closely," Iroha offered, her grin widening.

"But wouldn't you mind, Iroha? After all, you're the one who—"

"I'm going home," Kanade interrupted abruptly, rising from his seat in mock indignation.

"Wait, wait, wait! (＞人＜;)" Iroha leaped into action, clasping her hands together in an over-the-top gesture of apology. "Iroha got carried away! Please don't leave, Senpai! Let's finish all the plans we made for today. Pretty please?"

Kanade paused, giving her an unimpressed look. "Then stop wasting time and eat your dessert already."

"Roger that, Senpai!" With mock seriousness, Iroha gave a salute and dove into her sundae with renewed determination.

Time dragged as Iroha meticulously worked her way through the mountain of treats she'd ordered, her enthusiasm for sweets seemingly boundless—until it wasn't. Eventually, she leaned back with a dramatic sigh, her plate mostly cleared save for a few untouched mochi balls and daifuku.

"Senpai," she began, her voice dripping with innocent charm, "I really can't eat another bite. How about we share the rest?"

Kanade's gaze flicked to the remaining confections, skepticism evident. He was tempted to refuse outright, but before he could speak, Iroha pounced.

"Didn't you say not to waste food? Senpai should set a good example!"

"You ordered all of this yourself. I only got a coffee," Kanade muttered, crossing his arms.

"But you're the senpai! Isn't it your job to help your adorable kouhai in times of need?" Iroha pressed her hands together in mock prayer, her tone practically sparkling with manufactured sincerity.

Kanade sighed, resignation creeping in. "Fine. If you can't finish it, I'll take care of it. But don't make this a habit."

"Yay! Thanks, Senpai!" Iroha grinned mischievously, plucking two pieces of wagashi from the plate. Taking tiny, deliberate bites out of each, she chewed thoughtfully before holding them out to him with exaggerated sweetness. "Here, these are for you! Freshly prepped and approved by Iroha herself!"

Kanade stared at the offerings, his expression unreadable. Was this some kind of declaration? Or just another one of her schemes? Either way, he wasn't going to back down.

With the confidence of someone who'd seen it all, Kanade took one of the wagashi from her hand. Maintaining unbroken eye contact, he bit into the exact spot where Iroha had left her mark, savoring the sweet taste with an exaggerated slowness.

"Average," he said after a moment, his tone as flat as a calm lake.

The single-word judgment hung in the air, its meaning ambiguous. Was he referring to the wagashi or something else entirely?

Iroha's cheeks flushed, her initial smugness quickly replaced by a flustered glare. "S-Stupid Senpai! You're the worst!" she hissed, barely loud enough for him to hear.

Kanade smirked faintly, leaning back in his chair with the ease of someone who'd just won a particularly petty battle. "If I'm the worst, what does that make the person who gave it to me?"

Iroha huffed, crossing her arms as she turned away. "Hmph! You're impossible."

But as much as she grumbled, there was a sparkle in her eyes—a mix of annoyance, amusement, and something else she'd never admit out loud. For all his stoic deflections and cutting remarks, Natsukawa Kanade had a way of making even her defeats oddly enjoyable.

As the remaining wagashi disappeared one by one, the café settled into a quiet hum. Outside, the first stars of the evening began to twinkle, unnoticed by the pair locked in their endless game of banter and one-upmanship.

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Last chapter of the day, leave a stone or more please.

Anyway, the next story I'm thinking of doing seems like it's gonna have a large harem of waifus. I don't know how you feel about that.

I'll try writing smut in that one though I can't guarantee quality. There will be warnings though.

Anyway, have a good weekend, keep supporting the story, see you next week!!!!