Chapter Eight: Takoyaki Party in Full Swing

“Senpai! Takoyaki party time!”

The voice was unmistakably Natsukawa’s. I didn’t bother with the intercom and swung the door open. There she was, flashing her signature fanged grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Maybe I could pretend I didn’t see her.

“Hey, wait! Why’re you closing the door!?” she yelped.

“Didn’t recognize you,” I deadpanned.

“I’m your adorable kouhai, duh! So, senpai, takoyaki party, yeah?”

She shook a shopping bag in my face, clearly packed with ingredients. A takoyaki grill sat at her feet. This girl came prepared. No way she’s taking no for an answer.

“…How’d you even know where I live?” I asked.

“Haru-chan-senpai told me!” Natsukawa chirped, stepping aside with a dramatic “Ta-da!”

Behind her stood Sakuraba, looking sheepish, her brows knitted in apology.

“S-Sorry for showing up out of nowhere…” she mumbled, bowing slightly, her gentle features twisted into a guilty frown. Total contrast to Natsukawa’s brazen confidence.

“…Come on in,” I said.

I’d half-thought Sakuraba might never come back after… everything. My hand grazed my lips without thinking, and I caught myself, playing it off as I let them inside.

It was an accident. That’s all. Maybe Sakuraba’s not even dwelling on it.

My head gets it, but my body’s not on board. My heart’s still racing.

“So, I was hanging with Haru-chan-senpai today,” Natsukawa said the second she stepped inside, “and we got this wild idea to throw a takoyaki party! We needed a spot, and I was like, ‘Senpai’s place, obviously!’ So, here we are!”

“Are you turning my room into the cooking club’s second HQ?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No biggie, right? I’ll make you some killer food!” she shot back, grinning.

This girl’s got some nerve, barging in like she owns the place. She thinks she can bribe me with good eats. She’s not wrong.

“Suzu, you cool with this?” I asked.

“Fine by me. Love takoyaki,” she said.

I figured we’d grab dinner and call it a night, but apparently, a takoyaki party’s a done deal.

“Just so you know, I’m picky about takoyaki,” I warned. “My dad’s from Kansai.”

Natsukawa puffed out her chest. “This Natsukawa Aoi’s got skills. I brought my own grill, too.”

She’s smug. Fine, let’s see if she lives up to the hype.

“Bring it on!” I said, clasping my hands.

“Leave it to me!” Natsukawa struck a fierce fighting pose. I’m counting on you, seriously.

With that, Chef Natsukawa marched to the kitchen to prep the batter, leaving the rest of us to chat around the takoyaki grill. I offered to help, but she waved me off with, “Amateurs, stay seated!” So, here we are.

Suzu sat to my left, Sakuraba across from me, and Natsukawa, when she wasn’t in the kitchen, took the spot to my right. My tiny apartment, meant for one, was packed. Four people around a table? It’s cramped as hell.

A few months ago, I couldn’t have imagined this. Three girls—all stunners, no less—in my place? If Yuna saw this, I’d be toast. Done for.

“Shi-kun, you okay? You’re pale,” Suzu said, tilting her head.

“S-Sorry, are we intruding?” Sakuraba stammered, her face as white as mine. “I mean, you were with Asaba-san…”

“Nah, we were done anyway,” I said, forcing a smile. “Plus, I’m down for takoyaki.”

Why’s this happening? All I wanted was good food. That’s it. Why’s my life like this?

“I’m Sakuraba Haru,” Sakuraba said softly. “I’ve been teaching Midoriya-kun to cook…”

“Know you already,” Suzu cut in. “Asaba Suzu. Call me Suzu. Shi-kun’s childhood friend. Best friend.”

While I was busy spiraling, introductions happened.

“Wait, you two haven’t met?” I asked.

“Not really,” Sakuraba said. “I’ve seen her at the cooking club a few times, but we’ve never talked.”

Silence fell, heavy and awkward. Sakuraba looked uncomfortable under Suzu’s blank stare and my grim expression. Suzu’s just naturally quiet, but it’s tough on normies like Sakuraba in moments like this.

No use moping—it’s only making Sakuraba feel worse. I pinched my thigh, forced a grin, and pushed forward. Yuna’s weekly call isn’t for a while, and ninety percent of what I’m freaking out about probably won’t happen.

“Hey, senpai!” Natsukawa’s voice rang from the kitchen. “You’ve got potato starch! Nice!”

“I’m not that hopeless,” I called back.

“That’s from when I made karaage for you…” Sakuraba muttered under her breath.

Natsukawa didn’t hear, chirping, “You’re actually cooking, huh?”

Awkward. So awkward. I pressed a finger to my lips, glancing at Sakuraba. She gave a small smile and nodded, easing the tension.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Suzu, watching the whole exchange, stood and started poking around my bookshelf again.

“Sakuraba, wanna see his yearbook?” she asked.

“…Huh?” Sakuraba blinked.

“Shi-kun’s yearbook. I can show you. Want old stories, too?”

Sakuraba looked stunned. Suzu’s pulling this dominance nonsense again—she did the same with Yuna once. She’s got, like, one friend (me), so she probably gets territorial when someone else gets close. Still, her approach is way too blunt.

“Cut it out,” I said, flicking her forehead.

“Ow!”

“You two are close, huh?” Sakuraba said, her tone uncertain.

“Super close,” Suzu replied.

“I’m close with him too!” Natsukawa called from the kitchen, stirring batter. “We went shopping together, even huddled up in a dark, cramped room!”

She said it so innocently, but her eyes weren’t smiling. Don’t phrase it like that! Those were accidents!

“Anyway, Natsukawa, how do we make these?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Right! First, brush on some oil. Just a pinch, like a single tenkasu. Go bold!”

Suzu’s weird posturing was too much, so I pushed the takoyaki-making along. It worked better than expected.

Alright, let’s make this takoyaki party fun!

“Then, pour the batter to about eighty percent,” Natsukawa continued. “Add the fillings till it’s practically overflowing—that’s the trick!”

“Damn, you’re a pro!” I said, impressed.

She’s not kidding. Showing up with her own grill and no warning? That’s commitment.

I poured the batter, and Natsukawa flashed a proud thumbs-up.

Master…!

“I like the ones with cheese,” Suzu said.

“Oh! I got wieners, cheese, all sorts of fun stuff!” Natsukawa beamed.

“Nice prep,” Suzu said. “Start with octopus?”

“Yup. Love octopus.”

“Classics are the best!” Natsukawa added. “We’ll do chocolate for dessert!”

“Genius,” I said.

“Aw, senpai, calling me cute and a genius? You’re too sweet, proposing like that!”

Nobody said that.

We tossed in the octopus Sakuraba had quietly chopped. This is getting fun.

“When the edges firm up, flip ‘em!” Natsukawa said. “That’s how you get that gooey center!”

She could work at a takoyaki stand. Her passion and skill were unreal, deftly rolling the batter into perfect spheres.

“Senpai, they’re done!” she announced.

“Holy crap, they look legit!” I said.

“Been ages since I had takoyaki,” Suzu said.

“Me too,” Sakuraba added softly.

The room erupted. These perfectly round takoyaki were next-level for a home party. Once everyone’s plates were loaded, we clasped our hands.

““““Let’s eat!””””

We devoured them. Ate, ate, and ate some more. For round two, we got creative—wieners, cheese, even chocolate. Tossing in canned tuna was surprisingly good. Best discovery of the day.

As we stuffed ourselves, conversation slowed. Then, a buzzing sound broke the silence, persistent and annoying.

“Someone’s phone?” Natsukawa asked, checking hers and pocketing it. Not her. I reached for mine, feeling the vibration.

The screen read Yuna.

“…Oh,” I muttered.

“That’s you, senpai,” Natsukawa said.

“Go ahead,” Suzu said. “We’ll keep quiet.”

It was a video call. I wanted to ignore it, but Yuna never calls at odd hours. What if it’s an emergency? I couldn’t not answer.

“Sorry, I’ll step outside—”

“Is that your girlfriend?” Sakuraba asked softly, her voice barely audible but sharp in my tiny apartment.

Bzzt. Bzzt. The phone kept buzzing.

I couldn’t find words, frozen in place, until Suzu nudged me. “Shi-kun, it’ll hang up.”

She’s right. No time to duck out. I tapped the answer button, and Yuna’s beaming face filled the screen.

“Shiki, guess what!” she said.

“Y-Yeah, what’s up?”

“So, that mock exam I took? Results came back, and it’s my best score ever!”

She was practically glowing, her eyes sparkling brighter than usual. I wanted to match her excitement, to smile back, but my brain couldn’t process her words. My heart pounded so loud it drowned everything else out. My cheeks twitched, stuck in a glitched grin.

“Hayamine Medical got a B rating!” she continued. “If I keep this up, maybe we can live together in two years!”

My background was just my usual wall. To Yuna, I probably looked normal. But my view? Three girls—Sakuraba, Natsukawa, Suzu—sitting around my table.

They wouldn’t show up unless they moved, but one wrong angle, and I’m screwed. I kept glancing at them, paranoid. It’s fine, right? They’re just friends.

Still, I had zero confidence this wouldn’t be misread.

“Shiki, you okay? You’re sweating like crazy. Hot? Turn on the AC,” Yuna said.

“N-No, I’m good,” I stammered, wiping my face. Suzu silently handed me a handkerchief.

My pulse was out of control.

“Living together, Shiki,” Yuna said, her voice soft. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Hell yeah, I’m stoked!” I forced out. “Super happy.”

Yuna’s smile relaxed. Apparently, a B rating at Hayamine Medical is a big deal. She rambled excitedly about the exam, more animated than usual.

I nodded along to Yuna’s voice, my mind elsewhere, when Natsukawa started typing something on her phone. She thrust the screen in my face.

“If I screamed right now, you’d be done for, senpai.”

Like hell I’d let that happen.

I switched my phone to my left hand and clamped my right over Natsukawa’s mouth.

“Mmph…”

A soft, almost coy sound escaped her, but it’d probably get filtered out as background noise by the phone’s noise cancellation. My eyes darted to Yuna on the screen, heart pounding. I was freaking out over nothing, wasn’t I?

“Heh.” Yuna giggled, still in high spirits, oblivious. I plastered on the fakest grin I could muster. Seems I was in the clear.

No way I could let Natsukawa move, though. In a panic, I yanked her close, positioning her between my legs and wrapping my arms around her. She’s so small she fit perfectly, out of the camera’s view.

It looked like a back hug, but it wasn’t about that. It was to keep her from yelling or accidentally showing up on the call.

I don’t have some cheating fantasy. No self-destructive urges either.

But my brain was drowning in adrenaline, like it was about to short-circuit.

“My dad’s over the moon!” Yuna said. “If I get into Hayamine Medical, he might even okay us living together! After college, we could go back home, and I’d take over the hospital…”

“That’s awesome, but don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” I said, trying to sound steady.

“No way. I’m gonna push for it—for us to get married!”

As she spoke, a cool sensation brushed my leg. Someone’s foot. I jerked back, but it followed, tangling with mine. Smooth, slender.

“No.”

My eyes locked with Sakuraba’s across the table. Her usual soft warmth was gone, replaced by an icy glare I’d never seen before. Her leg slid between mine, deliberate and unyielding. It was her.

Yesterday’s kiss flashed through my mind, unbidden, sending my pulse into overdrive. Was this thrill? Regret? I couldn’t tell what was driving me anymore.

What did I do wrong? When did everything spiral like this?

My breathing turned shallow, my head spinning from oxygen deprivation or maybe just the endless questions with no answers.

“Shiki, you listening?” Yuna asked.

“Huh? Yeah, totally,” I said, scrambling.

Get it together, Shiki. Panicking won’t fix this mess.

I forced my frazzled brain to process the situation: Yuna on the screen, Natsukawa in my arms, Sakuraba’s leg tangled with mine, and Suzu wiping my sweaty arm with her handkerchief.

I shut my eyes, desperate to escape, but reality didn’t budge.

I wanted to move away, to pretend none of this ever happened.

For the first time, I seriously considered it—running away, starting over. But would moving even erase this? I made this mess myself, and what a convenient fantasy to think I could just wipe it clean.

I had to get through this moment first.

“Yuna, I—”

“Oh, Mom’s calling me!” she cut in, laughing. “Dinner’s my favorite tonight. They’re always nicer when I get good results, you know.”

I remembered her saying that once, long ago.

“Sorry for the sudden call. Talk later!”

The call ended. Call Ended flashed on the screen, and sensation finally returned to my hands. Natsukawa’s soft breaths tickled my palm.

“Phew!” she gasped, pulling away. “That was harsh, senpai!”

“We’re done,” I groaned, slumping onto the table.

“It was just a joke! I didn’t actually make a scene, did I?”

I didn’t have the energy to snap back or even argue. I thought I was gonna die.

My heart was still racing, too fast, shaving years off my life. It’s probably still ticking down.

“You’re lucky it didn’t blow up,” Suzu said, her angelic smile a stark contrast to my ghostly pallor.

“Lucky doesn’t cut it,” I muttered.

“So, I overheard,” Natsukawa said, frowning. “Your future’s already locked in, senpai?”

Yuna’s the heiress to a major hospital. Marrying her means supporting her completely—becoming a doctor, taking over the family business.

I might get to stay in Tokyo for college, but moving back to Mie is non-negotiable.

I’ve transferred schools so much I barely have a sense of “home,” but it’s not like I hate Mie. It just doesn’t feel real to me yet.

I stayed silent, and Natsukawa’s brow furrowed deeper.

“Isn’t your girlfriend kinda… heavy?” she asked.

“She’s not,” I said defensively.

“But that means you’re only free during high school, right? Wanna run away with me instead?” she teased, grinning.

“No way, Aoi-chan,” Sakuraba said, her face serious.

“That’s not cool.”

“Just kidding!” Natsukawa said, finally standing up. Her warmth lingered on my lap, faintly damp with sweat.

“Alright, let’s clean these dishes quick!” she chirped.

“I’ll handle it,” I said. “I barely helped with prep.”

“Really? You sure?”

“Master, it’s the least I can do.”

After those takoyaki, I’d be a jerk to skip cleanup.

Natsukawa grabbed her stuff, looking a bit awkward after the call. “Guess I’ll head out. It’s getting dark.”

“What about the grill?” I asked.

“Can I leave it here? It’s my backup.”

“Fine, but you’re turning my place into a takoyaki venue, aren’t you?”

She just grinned, saying, “See you at school!” and headed for the door.

She’s totally doing it. Whatever.

“Suzu, you can head out too,” I said.

“Why?” she asked, glancing at Sakuraba.

“I promised to walk Midoriya-kun to my work after this,” Sakuraba said. “We’ve gotta stay anyway, and the kitchen’s too small for more than two.”

Suzu looked like she wanted to stay, but Sakuraba’s logic was airtight, and the unspoken “please leave” was clear. I had stuff to talk about with Sakuraba too, so I watched Suzu go without a word. The door shut with a thud, and I locked it.

Now it was just us, but neither said a thing. We silently cleaned up the takoyaki party, the air thick with unspoken words.

I washed the last of the grill, shutting off the faucet. The drip of water stopped.

Sakuraba spoke. “Sorry for barging in today. I thought… maybe this was my last chance to come here.”

A droplet fell into the sink with a plip.

Water doesn’t come back once it spills.

“I can’t handle the idea of you serving my cooking to your girlfriend,” she said.

I wasn’t dense enough to miss what she meant.

Her large eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she forced a faint smile. “…Can I quit being your teacher today?”

“Okay, but… your problem’s still—” I started.

“It’s fine. Thanks to you, it’s gotten a lot better.”

That’s a lie. Unless she quits her job or stands up to her boss, nothing’s changed. But I couldn’t stop her—not when I failed to be her boyfriend or even a proper friend. My own damn fault.

I stared at her, words failing me.

When we first met, I thought Sakuraba reminded me of someone. Now I realized who: the heroine from my favorite book. My first crush.

“See you, Midoriya-kun,” she said, grabbing her things and leaving.

The once-noisy room fell silent, leaving me standing alone.