Side: Sakuraba Haru – “The Goddess’s Regret”
“Yo, let’s get outta here,” he says, flashing a charming smile at my coworkers to smooth things over. He’s so unchanged, I almost laugh at how much I’ve been agonizing over nothing.
“Thanks, Midoriya-kun. Again,” I say.
“No prob. It’s for the food, right?” he grins.
I used to think that was just him being shy, but a few days ago, I realized he means it literally.
When you think about it, he’s done nothing wrong.
I teach him to cook, he plays my boyfriend. That was the deal from the start. If I started seeing more in it, that’s on me.
I got carried away. He let me into his home. Every time we cooked, chatting about nothing, every time he grinned and said my food was delicious, I convinced myself he didn’t have a girlfriend.
God, how convenient.
Midoriya-kun tucks my stuff into his bike’s basket and starts pushing it as we walk. I hurry to keep up.
“No grocery stop today, right?” he asks.
“Oh, yeah. We’ve got enough from last time,” I say.
I know his fridge inside out—what he likes, what he doesn’t, how many plates he has, what spices he’s got. All these weirdly intimate details.
From the outside, we probably sound like a couple.
I used to think going to the supermarket with a guy was something special, something only couples did. My first time doing it felt like a big deal, but for Midoriya-kun, it’s probably just another day. I thought he was as excited as I was. My mistake.
I’m the only one getting all fluttery.
The silence stretches, so I scramble for something to say. “So, I heard from Aoi-chan. The day you came to get me, you had plans with her, didn’t you?”
“Uh… did I?” he says, dodging.
“You did. I know I’m the one you helped, but ditching’s not cool. At least give her a heads-up, y’know?”
The words spill out, but they’re not what I really want to say.
Look at him, making that annoyed face.
“Did you tell Aoi-chan?” he asks.
“No way! I couldn’t!” I say.
“Then keep it between us. Our little secret,” he says.
“…You’re awful,” I mutter.
“Hah. If it’s bad, no one has to know,” he says.
His words are terrible, but the idea of “our little secret” makes my cheeks warm. I’m the worst.
I wish I’d never found out he has a girlfriend.
If I didn’t know, holding his hand or hearing his flirty comments wouldn’t feel like a sin.
“You’ve got a girlfriend, huh?” I say.
“…Wait, I didn’t tell you?” he says.
“Nope. Aoi-chan mentioned you’ve got a long-distance girlfriend. I was shocked.”
“No way. I told everyone at the club when I joined, so I thought I’d mentioned it.”
He says it so casually, pushing his bike like always.
“Should’ve said something sooner. Would’ve put you at ease,” he says.
Probably because I was stressed about my boss. He’s right—I was wary of him at first. Maybe it would’ve helped if he’d told me. Then I wouldn’t have gotten swept up every time he called me cute or said my cooking was great.
I don’t even like him. Not like that. Not at all. But he saved me. He kept saying I’m cute.
I’ve never once thought of him as just a friend!
“Then why’d you keep saying I’m cute or would make a great wife? That’s so misleading!” I blurt, the thoughts I’ve been stewing over spilling out. Tears prick my eyes—frustration, shame, misery. I’ve never felt like this.
“It’s true, though. You are cute, and you’d be an awesome wife,” he says.
“Ugh!” I groan.
“Besides, I’m not your type, right?” he says.
“…Yeah. It’s not like I got the wrong idea or anything. But you should’ve told me sooner. I was worried I’d upset your girlfriend,” I say.
Exactly. He’s not my type. His cooking’s a disaster, he’s tactless, and he’s all chummy with his kouhai despite having a girlfriend. I might even hate him.
I spent nights wondering when he’d confess, agonizing over my response for two weeks. My head was such a flower garden, it’s laughable now.
I glare at Midoriya-kun, grinning carefree beside me.
“Is your girlfriend cute?” I ask.
“Super cute. Wanna see a pic?”
“…No way!” I snap.
Ugh, I wanna die.
Even as I think that, his shy smile makes my heart pound, and I’m mortified. Please don’t let him notice.
It’s fine. Totally fine. I can still back out.
I should’ve been able to back out.
“…Accident,” he says.
I didn’t want it to be an accident. Not even a little.
His firsts don’t have to be with me, but I want all my firsts to be with him.
It was thrilling. It was painful. And it’s too late now.
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