By the time Makoto and Saiki returned to school, the storm had mostly passed.
Makoto had expected whispers in the hallway, cameras peeking through the school gate, and at least one student fainting from heartbreak. Instead, there was... polite distance.
The fans who once screamed when he passed by now bowed awkwardly and whispered among themselves—but not about him. There were no declarations of war, no ambushes, no screaming breakdowns. It was as if the entire school had collectively decided: Well, if he's going to hold a press conference about it, maybe he means it.
Even the infamous Makoto Teruhashi School Fan Club had quietly disbanded.
Only one person hadn't moved on.
Haruka.
She stood just outside the classroom door that morning, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. She wasn't wearing her usual bright fan gear, but there was still a Makoto-branded charm dangling from her phone like a forgotten oath.
Makoto and Saiki walked past her in tandem, not stopping. Makoto gave her a quick nod. Saiki didn't look at her at all.
Inside, the class buzzed.
"I mean… he is pretty serious," Hairo said thoughtfully, nodding like this was a tactical debate. "It takes guts to declare love in front of national media. That's a level of commitment we should respect."
"Yeah," Aren agreed, cracking his knuckles. "Love is love. The dude made it official. Anyone got a problem with that better step outside."
"Also they looked really good together in that press photo," Yumehara sighed, dreamily resting her cheek in her hand. "I can't even be mad."
Kaidou cleared his throat. "Let's not forget the potential cosmic significance of this. What if this union was foretold in the stars? Like… a prophecy of psychic balance between love and fate!"
Everyone stared at him.
"…Anyway," Kaidou mumbled.
Even Kokomi had accepted it. Well—she hadn't said anything directly, but she'd been unusually quiet after the announcement. She sat in her seat now, flipping through a textbook with the calm detachment of a goddess passing judgment.
Only Haruka remained stuck in the past.
She stood at the back of the room, muttering something to herself while scribbling notes into a glittery pink notebook. Her smile was tight and glassy.
Makoto sat beside Saiki, watching her warily. "She's definitely plotting something," he muttered.
Haruka was unraveling.
Not in a loud, messy, scream-on-the-rooftop way—but in the twitchy, tightly smiling, "I'm totally fine, teehee!" way that came right before a nervous breakdown.
She had watched that press conference. Watched Makoto stand there under the stage lights, in front of dozens of microphones, and say "We're in love" like it was the most normal thing in the world.
And the fans—traitors—had cheered. #LoveWins trended for twelve hours. Someone made a fancam of Makoto blinking in slow motion while "My Heart Will Go On" played in the background. Even the fan forums were turning on her, calling her "jealous" and "bitter" and "kind of stalkery, no offense."
It didn't make sense.
Makoto was supposed to belong to the fans. To her. Not… not him. Not Saiki.
What did Saiki even do? He didn't post, didn't stream, didn't give cute interviews. He was just there, always with that blank stare like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Makoto could do better.
Makoto should do better.
And Haruka was going to prove it.
She got her chance two days later.
Makoto had excused himself from the classroom again—"manager call," he said, waving casually—and headed toward the back stairwell. Haruka slipped out right after him, tiptoeing up the steps like a girl on a mission.
The rooftop door was slightly ajar.
She crouched down behind it, barely peeking through the crack.
There he was: pacing back and forth, one hand ruffling through his already-messy hair, his expression flustered—but not in a bad way.
Then he spoke. To no one.
"Okay, System. Real talk. Saiki kissed me this morning. Well, I kissed him first, but he kissed back, so it totally counts, right? That's a win!"
He paused, like he was waiting for an answer.
Then, exasperated: "No, I'm not blushing. That's lighting. Shut up."
Another beat.
"…Okay, maybe I'm blushing. But that doesn't mean I want to kiss him twenty more times today. Though… once more for science wouldn't kill him, right?"
Makoto laughed to himself, spinning around dramatically.
"Oh my god. I've turned into one of those girls in shoujo manga. Is this karma for middle school? This is karma. This is because I said romance subplots were boring."
He flopped down on a bench like a dying Victorian woman and sighed dreamily. "Anyway, if anyone asks, I am not in love. I'm just experiencing prolonged exposure to Saiki's face and that is medically unfair."
Haruka, frozen in place, stared through the crack in the door with the expression of someone slowly realizing they'd walked into the wrong genre.
What. The hell. Was that.
He was talking to something. Someone. A "System"? Was it an app? A person? A delusion?
Was this a bit?
Was Makoto okay?
Haruka backed away slowly, her mind spinning.
This wasn't just about a relationship. Something was off. And she was going to get to the bottom of it.
Haruka stumbled down the stairwell like she'd just seen a ghost.
Makoto wasn't just dating Saiki. He wasn't just acting strange.
He was talking to something invisible and calling it a System.
And suddenly—like puzzle pieces violently snapping together—she remembered.
Saiki's older brother, Kusuke.
He'd reached out to her weeks ago.
She hadn't taken him seriously. Who would? The guy had been too smooth, too smug, all too happy to say cryptic things like:
"I just think it's funny how no one's noticed it yet. The System, I mean. The thing playing puppeteer with your beloved Makoto."
At the time, she thought he was just stirring up drama.
But now?
Now she couldn't stop replaying the words in her head.
"Makoto kissed me this morning—well, I kissed him, but he kissed back, so it totally counts, right?"
"Okay, System. Real talk…"
"I'm not in love. Probably. Maybe. Shut up."
He was talking to something. Something only he could hear. Something guiding him.
She pulled out her phone, fingers shaking, and scrolled to her last conversation with Kusuke.
She had left him on read.
Now she typed:
haruka: I heard him talking to it.
A second later:
Haruka: The System. It's real, isn't it?
There was a pause. Then:
Kusuke: Took you long enough.
Kusuke: Are you ready to help now?
Haruka stared at the screen.
Help?
Was he asking her to fight this thing?
To save Makoto?
She looked up—just in time to see Makoto re-enter the classroom, flushed but smiling, with Saiki trailing behind him.
Saiki didn't touch him. He never did. But his eyes flicked toward her—just for a moment.
And she felt it again. That thing in her gut that screamed something wasn't right.
Maybe everyone else was fooled. Maybe they were too dazzled by the press conferences and couple hashtags and the perfect lighting that followed Makoto around like a filter.
But Haruka wasn't.
She was going to expose the truth.
Haruka launched her post at lunch.
A photo of Makoto, candid but flattering, taken through a classroom window.
The caption read: He's not himself. He's being controlled. Please don't ignore the signs.
She tagged it with every relevant hashtag: #SaveMakotoSenpai, #ThisIsntLove, #BrainwashedBeauty.
Within ten minutes, the thread had blown up. But not the way she wanted.
Saikixmakoto4ever: Didn't he literally do a whole press conference about being in love?
Torolover: Girl, he volunteered to say it on camera. That was no hostage video.
Toroboba: We've seen them together. They're grossly cute. Let it go.
Someone even replied with a fan edit of Makoto feeding Saiki a bite of dessert from earlier in the week, sparkles and hearts layered over the scene like an anime ending theme.
Haruka slammed her phone down.
What was happening to the fanbase?
Where was the righteous fury?
Where was the love?
She stormed into the hallway, just in time to spot Makoto chatting with Aren, Hairo, and Kaidou near the shoe lockers.
Perfect. An audience.
"I just want to talk!" Haruka announced, marching toward him.
Makoto turned slowly. His expression wasn't angry—it was calm. Too calm.
"Hi, Haruka," he said, voice light but steely. "Something on your mind?"
She didn't hesitate. "I just think we need to reconsider what's happening here. You've been acting strange. Talking to yourself. Isolating. And this relationship with Saiki—it's too sudden. Too intense. Can't you see you're being manipulated?"
Kaido gasped.
"Oh my god," he whispered. "She thinks he's being brainwashed by The Dark Reunion."
Hairo blinked. "Even if he is—they're still in love"
Haruka gaped. "You're seriously okay with this?! After everything?!"
Makoto tilted his head, smiling politely.
"I'm really touched by your concern," he said. "But I think you're projecting."
"You were talking to something on the rooftop," Haruka hissed. "I heard it. You said 'System.'"
Makoto went still for half a second. Then he blinked and said brightly:
"Ah, yeah. My skincare system. Really advanced stuff. Made me fall in love with myself, and then, unfortunately, with Saiki."
Kaido nodded solemnly. "Self-love is the first step to defeating evil."
Haruka's face twisted. "You're lying! You're lying to all of them!"
"Even if I were," Makoto said coolly, "it's still my life. Not yours."
The tension buzzed like an electric wire—but then, a voice cut through the hallway:
"Hey, guys. Big announcement online—Makoto's dating post just hit ten million likes."
It was Yumehara, bouncing in with two other girls.
"Also," she said, waving her phone, "Kokomi says she's 'reluctantly supportive but resigned to it,' so like, that's basically official approval."
Hairo grinned. "There you go. Public support. The people have spoken."
Even students from other classes were nodding, smiling. Some were clearly giddy, already posting photos from the press conference and editing hearts around Makoto's face.
Makoto stepped forward—not gloating, just present.
"Haruka," he said gently, "this isn't a scandal. It's just me being honest. And maybe you don't like it, but everyone else has made peace with it. You can too."
She stood there trembling, hands clenched at her sides.
And in her pocket, her phone vibrated again.
Kusuke.
Kusuke: he's rejecting the narrative. That's useful. You might be the only one who can break the spell.
She looked up—and for a moment, caught Saiki staring at her from behind the others. Calm. Careful. Knowing.
Haruka swallowed hard.
This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
That night, Haruka sat curled up in her room, laptop open to the chaos she'd helped start—and failed to control.
Makoto's face was everywhere. His smiling, relaxed, genuinely happy face as he stood beside Saiki. That press conference clip was going viral. Her hashtags had been swallowed by ones she couldn't stand:
#SaikotoOfficial
#MakotoDeservesLove
#SaikiYouLuckyBastard
She scrolled down furiously.
Saikoto: You can tell it's real. He's glowing.
Makotoswife: if your fave finds love, you support.
Toromilktea: I was skeptical but… okay, I ship it now.
Her hands clenched into fists.
They'd all turned on her. Even the Haruka Fan Army she'd rallied just this morning had dissolved. When Makoto made it official, it was like a switch flipped. The fans weren't delusional anymore. They believed him.
Because if Makoto Teruhashi—charming, flawless, famously unattached—stood up in front of the world and said he loved someone…
Then he meant it.
Even if Haruka didn't believe it. Even if she couldn't.
She stared at her old group chat, now renamed: Saikoto Truthers 💕
A message popped up.
[New Message]
Kusuke: If you still want answers… meet me tomorrow. After school. Old science building. Come alone.
Her breath caught.
Her eyes narrowed.
Makoto. A mysterious voice no one else heard.
Kusuke had known something.
And she'd just overheard Makoto talking to someone who wasn't there.
She tapped a reply.
haruka: I'll be there.
Back at the Saiki residence, Makoto was sprawled across the couch with a tired but triumphant grin, one arm flopped dramatically over his eyes. The press conference had been a success. Public opinion was somehow on their side.
Saiki sat at the farthest end of the couch, arms crossed, silent.
Makoto peeked through his fingers. "...You're not going to say anything?"
Silence.
Makoto nudged him with his socked foot. "I mean, I basically made our relationship canon in front of the whole school. I thought you'd at least offer me a polite slow clap."
Still nothing.
Makoto let out a breathy chuckle. "God, you're so weird. It's kind of cute."
Saiki shifted, eyes briefly flicking toward him.
"I guess that's what I like about you," Makoto added softly. "You never act like you want something from me. And somehow, that makes me want to give you everything."
Saiki's gaze turned away again, unreadable.
Makoto closed his eyes, smile fading into something gentler.
But elsewhere, Haruka stood outside the old science building as the sun dipped low.
The windows were dark. The door creaked as she pushed it open.
A single light was on in the back room.
Inside, Kusuke waited—smiling like he'd already won something.