I Can't Call Your Name

The next morning, Kaito wandered sleepily, calling out to Misaki as she got dressed in her room for school.

"I can't find the t-shirt for my PE tracksuit. Have you seen it?"

"What? Oh, that? It looked dirty and was smelling so bad, so I washed it with mine. It should be dry on the clothes rack now," she replied.

Kaito walked over to the clothes rack, searching for his shirt. As he scanned, his eyes landed on a few pieces of Misaki's underwear hanging there as well.

His face turned red for a moment. Feeling embarrassed and scared of being called a pervert again, he avoided looking at them and kept searching nervously.

But now, it became even more challenging for him to find his shirt while trying to avoid looking directly at Misaki's clothes.

Suddenly, he heard the door to Misaki's room opening. Panicking, he quickly grabbed one of the shirts, folded it, and stuffed it into his bag.

"This must be it," he muttered and rushed to the door, avoiding eye contact with Misaki.

"I'm leaving!" he said quickly before slamming the door shut behind him.

Misaki nodded and walked over to the clothes rack. She selected hers, folded them neatly, and placed them in her bag.

They had Physical Education (PE) class that day. After waiting for a while, Misaki also left the apartment and headed to school.

During the break, the classroom was filled with chatter and noise. Everyone was talking about the upcoming PE class after the next lesson.

Kaito, on the other hand, was determined to read the book Misaki had given him the night before, even during his breaks.

He became so absorbed in it that it quickly caught Touma's attention.

"Kaito-kun," Touma called out, leaning closer, "are you hearing me, or are you lost in some other dimension?"

"Hmm," Kaito responded absentmindedly, flipping another page.

Curious, Touma leaned over and plucked the book from his hands. "What on earth has got you so captivated?" he asked, holding up the book and examining its cover with a skeptical look.

He read aloud, "Ikigai, The Key to a Happy Life, 43rd edition. Oh, this seems to be a pretty popular book."

When Misaki heard Touma's voice, her curiosity shifted to Kaito. Embarrassed, Kaito quickly grabbed the book back from Touma's hands, his movements hurried and awkward.

"Hey, hold on! Let me read a bit—I'm curious," Touma said, refusing to let go and tightening his grip on the book.

Irritated, Kaito pulled harder, determined to reclaim it. In his haste, he failed to notice Touma's bandaged pinky finger.

Suddenly, Touma let out a sharp scream, "Agh, my finger!"

Heads turned in their direction, and Kaito frowned. "Why are you yelling?" he snapped, clearly annoyed.

But then he noticed the bandage on Touma's pinky and paused.

"Wait... what happened to your finger?" he asked, his irritation giving way to curiosity.

Touma averted his gaze, mumbling under his breath, "Our little one bit me."

Kaito blinked, confused. "Little one? What are you talking about? That little one, who's supposed to be harmless like a cat?"

"Sort of..."

Touma suddenly leaned closer to Kaito, lowering his voice as he pointed subtly at Misaki with his eyes.

"Shh, did you hear? Our vice president rejected that jerk from the other day," he whispered.

Kaito's brow furrowed. "How do you know that?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Touma blinked in surprise. "Oh, wait... did you already know? Never mind then," he said.

"What? No, I just learned it from you," Kaito shot back, his voice slightly tense as he tried to hide how flustered he felt.

"But who did you hear it from?"

"Who? Everyone at school is talking about it. That guy was a player who went after every stunning girl. Okada-san was the first to reject him till now."

Kaito felt a twinge of discomfort hearing the gossip. Discussing it further felt like crossing a line and disrespecting Misaki.

"Got it. Anyway, this is beyond me," he said firmly, turning his attention back to the book in his hands.

"Exactly. These girls are beyond us," Touma muttered, his voice laced with exaggerated despair.

Meanwhile, Yui appeared unusually tense, her gaze fixed on her desk with a blank, downcast expression.

Noticing her mood, Misaki asked, "Yui-chan, is something wrong? Are you okay?"

Yui lifted her head slightly and gave a faint, sad smile. "What? Oh, nothing. I'm fine. It's just..."

Misaki watched her closely, waiting for her to finish. Yui first hesitated, then whispered softly, "I gained a little weight over the break."

"Oh, come on, I thought it was something big. Don't worry, you look amazing!" she said casually, her words seemed to ease Yui's anxiety a little.

When the bell rang for the next class, PE finally began. As usual on the first day of PE, height and weight measurements were taken.

The girls and boys were busy changing into their tracksuits in separate rooms. Kaito grabbed his clothes from his bag, found an empty stall, and pulled the curtain shut behind him.

He took off his shirt and hung it up before trying on the t-shirt he had brought. After several attempts, he barely managed to squeeze his head through the neck hole.

"This thing has seriously shrunk. I need to get a new one," he muttered, struggling to fit his arms through.

After a few more frustrating tries, he gave up. Holding the t-shirt up, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, half-jokingly wondering if he'd somehow grown smaller overnight.

Meanwhile, Misaki also stepped into a stall and began taking off her shirt. Standing in front of the mirror, she turned side to side, inspecting her reflection.

She sucked in her stomach, briefly wondering if she had gained weight. Shaking off the thought, she picked up her t-shirt and slipped it on effortlessly—unlike Kaito's earlier struggle.

But as she glanced at herself in the mirror, she suddenly froze. Something felt off. It didn't take long to realize the shirt she was wearing wasn't hers.

Turning around, she checked the front and back to confirm her suspicion. No doubt about it—their clothes had been mixed up.

Misaki stiffened, unsure of what to do. A troubling thought crept into her mind, making her stomach churn.

"Wait, if this is his shirt..." Misaki muttered, unable to finish the sentence, though she already knew the answer.

Meanwhile, Kaito also realized that the shirt he was holding up in the mirror wasn't his, but Misaki's.

Both of them stared at their reflections, their faces tense as they muttered in unison, "Damn it!"

Misaki quickly yanked off the t-shirt and put her school shirt back on, her heart racing. The stress was starting to make her sweat.

Kaito quickly folded Misaki's t-shirt, crumpling it into a small, neat bundle in the palm of his hand. He hid it as best as he could and hurried out of the changing room, making sure no one saw him.

Meanwhile, Misaki carefully folded Kaito's t-shirt. She paused for a moment, then, with a tense look, brought the fabric to her nose. The shirt had a faint smell of sweat, adding to the uneasy tension in the air.

Before folding the shirt again, she sprayed a couple of pumps of perfume from her bag, trying to mask any trace of her scent. Then, hiding it behind her, she left the changing room.

Yui, waiting for her to finish changing, was surprised when she saw Misaki leave without changing.

"Misaki-chan—" Yui started, but Misaki quickly interrupted, her voice tense.

"I need to go to the bathroom. You change," she said, cutting off any further questions.

Ignoring Yui's confused look, Misaki walked out of the room. She took a deep breath and glanced down the corridor at the door at the far end.

At the same time, Kaito stepped out of his room, leaning his back against the door, staring at the ceiling as he took deep breaths.

When he turned around, he noticed Misaki was looking at him. His tension spiked.

He walked toward her with quick, cautious steps, unsure if he could get away with just a slap this time.

Misaki, however, wasn't as angry as Kaito had expected. Instead, she seemed tense and a little scared.

She had wanted to change her clothes as quickly as possible, hoping to end the awkward situation without anyone noticing.

When they reached the stairs in the middle of the corridor, she signaled for him to follow and hurried up.

They paused between the two levels, their expressions tense as they stared at each other. They both knew well what needed to be done.

With trembling hands, they attempted to exchange the T-shirts hidden in their palms, urgency gripping them as they scrambled to change before it was too late.

But before they could, the unmistakable sound of high heels clicking down the stairs froze them in place. There was no doubt—it was Kimura-sensei descending.