The Weight of Wanting

(Akane's PoV)

—

As I said, we took the long way around, cutting back through the central staircase and bypassing the staff exit entirely.

'Tch— So annoying...—'

My boots clicked against the tiles in a hurried, heavy rhythm that I tried desperately to soften, though the fire in my blood wasn't making it easy, while Shin walked right beside me, with the thick stack of laminated maps tucked under his arm, and his quiet gaze fixed on the hallway ahead.

He didn't ask me why I had suddenly ordered a change in our route despite I didn't care about Kenji.

He just trusted my lead, moving with that steady, unbothered grace that usually calmed my nerves—but right now, even his warmth wasn't enough to douse the spark burning in my chest.

When we finally reached the heavy frosted-glass door of the teachers' lounge, Sora Fujimoto was already standing near the threshold. She was pacing slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of an administrative folder, her perfect features pulled into a look of genuine, pressing worry.

Shin was the first to push the door open and step into the room, and because of the angle of the doorway, Sora didn't see me trailing immediately in his shadow.

"Ishikawa-san! Finally!" 

The words burst from her lips like a gasp of pure relief.

The moment she saw him, her entire posture shifted, her face lighting up as if she had just spotted a lone life raft in the middle of a violent ocean.

She took two fast, eager steps forward, her arms rising slightly, her body leaning into his space with a frantic momentum that looked—at least through my jealous side—as if she were preparing to throw her arms completely around his chest.

Something inside my brain violently detonated.

Before her polished leather shoes could cross the safety line, I snapped out of the shadows and moved with the sudden, lethal speed of a predator protecting its territory, sliding my body directly into the empty space right in front of Shin, cutting off her advance completely.

Then, I forced my lips to stretch into a massive, blindingly artificial smile, lifting my chin as I targeted her face with an ultra-cordial, toxic sweetness.

"Hello, Idol-san,😊" I said, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp, passive-aggressive purr that practically hummed with hidden venom. "Is everything going absolutely perfectly today?"

After my words, Sora Fujimoto's eyes widened with absolute confusion.

Her steps faltered mid-stride, her arms freezing in midair as she absorbed the sudden wall of dark, menacing energy emanating from my fake smile.

She then took three clumsy, embarrassed steps backward, her cheeks staining a deep, vibrant crimson under the bright fluorescent lights of the council room.

"Takanashi-san..." she stammered, her voice losing every single ounce of its untouchable, elite authority as she nervously adjusted the collar of her uniform. "I... I didn't realize you were accompanying him."

"Clearly," I replied, the word dripping like honey over a blade.

Beside me, I could feel Shin's shoulders vibrating with a tiny, silent amusement, but he kept his mouth shut, his fingers lightly catching the edge of my oversized black hoodie to keep me from advancing any further into the room.

"P-Please, just put everything right there on the desk to my right," Sora whispered, her eyes darting away from my glare as she pointed a trembling finger toward a long laminate counter. "Thank you so much for your assistance."

Shin and I moved in unison, setting the heavy, warm stack of laminated maps onto the wood with a single, resounding thud.

I didn't take my eyes off her for a single second, my arms immediately crossing over my chest, my combat boots pinned to the floorboards like iron stakes.

Then, after we were done, Sora took a deep, preparatory breath, probably trying to gather the scattered pieces of her student council mask before she looked back at Shin. Her tone returned to its perfect cadence, though her eyes remained carefully glued to the front of his blazer, avoiding my gaze entirely.

"I-Ishikawa-san... Takaneda-sensei explicitly requested to notify you about the afternoon shift," she said, her voice dropping into a formal register. "Immediately after the final bell rings, the executive board is required to meet with the official visiting representatives from Seiryō University. They are arriving on campus to coordinate the joint club performances and set up the academic orientation booths for the senior class. Takaneda was very specific; your presence as a class representative is mandatory for this meeting."

A cold, heavy knot immediately tightened in the pit of my stomach.

I ground my molars together so hard that a sharp pain shot up through my temple.

After school? That meant the entire evening routine was compromised.

It meant walking down the streets alone, and returning to an empty apartment without the solid, radiating heat of his bicep pressing against my shoulder.

The suffocating, dark possessiveness that I had inherited from my father's bloodline began to claw at my throat once again, twisting my thoughts into a frantic, ugly loop of pure frustration.

I hated everyone for demanding his time, and I also hated her for delivering the message.

Of course, my beloved Shin didn't argue. He knew the rules of the committee too well to mount a defense.

He just let out a low, tired sigh, with his hands sliding casually into the pockets of his new navy trousers as he gave a calm nod.

"Alright," he said easily. "Where exactly do we need to meet them?"

"Directly in the central courtyard," Sora answered, her posture relaxing slightly as the professional data cleared her head. "The Seiryō staff and their student leaders will be waiting for our arrival near the main banner line."

"Understood. I'll be there the second the bell rings," Shin replied.

"Ah... Thank you, for real, Ishikawa-kun. You're a lifesaver," Fujimoto said, bowing.

I forced my features to lock into a flat, neutral expression, but beneath the fabric of my hoodie, my hands were shaking with a volatile mixture of anger and absolute suspicion.

But then a sudden, terrifying realization clicked behind my eyes, organizing the pieces of the puzzle into a clear, devastating picture.

The blonde girl. The gyaru with the wrong uniform, whom we had just spotted laughing with Kenji.

Seiryō University was a high-status establishment known for its relaxed dress codes and wealthy student body.

Her uniform matched the description perfectly. She probably was one of the visiting representatives. And Kenji—that manipulative, bored monster—was already digging his claws into her before the official meetings had even commenced.

A dark, dangerous intuition whispered that whatever my half-brother was engineering on that walkway, it was going to bleed straight into the festival.

My possessive madness flared into a cold, hard determination: 'I am going to spy on every single second of that meeting. I am not letting him out of my sight.'

"Thank you, Fujimoto-san," Shin said politely, turning his torso toward the exit.

But before we could take a single step toward the door, the loud, electronic chime of the afternoon bell exploded through the hallway speakers, signaling the official end of the lunch break.

"Wait—just one last thing, both of you," Sora called out suddenly, her voice rising a fraction as she took a step toward us.

We both stopped on the threshold, turning our heads to look back into the council room.

Sora was holding the folder tightly against her ribs, her eyes looking unusually soft, a strange, hesitant shyness flickering behind her gaze.

"Are the two of you... currently free this upcoming weekend?" she asked, the words coming out a little faster than usual.

Shin's lips parted, his body automatically shifting as he prepared to give a normal, polite affirmation—because logically, our schedule was entirely clear. I already knew what he was about to say.

But the exact microsecond the question hung in the air, the dark, territorial ghosts of my father's blood completely took total command of my vocal cords.

The mere thought of this flawless idol invading our private weekend space, offering more favors and warm smiles to my boyfriend, drove me into an absolute state of possessive panic.

"Yes," I cut in brutally, my voice hitting the room like an iron bar, completely blocking Shin from forming a single syllable. "We are entirely, thoroughlyoccupied. Goodbye, Fujimoto-san."

I executed a fast, shallow, and completely insincere bow, my fingers immediately locking around Shin's wrist with a white-knuckled, frantic grip.

Then, without granting her a single remaining second to respond, I violently hauled his frame across the threshold, dragging him out into the bustling hallway and slamming the council door shut behind our heels.

Shin didn't resist the physical pull. As we walked through the crowded senior corridor, dodging between groups of students rushing toward their classrooms, a low, rumbling chuckle erupted from his chest.

He looked down at the desperate tightness of my fingers around his wrist, his dark eyes crinkling with a deep, thoroughly amused warmth.

"You know, Akane..." he teased softly, his voice a lazy whisper above the noise of the hallway. "I actually had a couple of incredibly nice, quiet programs in mind for us this weekend. You didn't even give me the time to check the schedule. I was going to tell Fujimoto that we were busy."

I didn't answer him. My jaw remained clamped shut, my focus entirely, fiercely locked on the physical act of dragging his heavy frame down the corridor, burying my burning face into the high collar of my hoodie so he couldn't see the dark, possessive flush staining my cheeks.

I just needed to get him close to his classroom and isolate him from the rest of the building before the bell stopped ringing.

Then we finally came to a halt right outside his class. The corridor was starting to clear out, the final stragglers slipping into their seats as the teachers began to close the classroom doors.

I finally released his wrist, my hand dropping heavily back into my pocket as I forced my breathing to slow down. Then, I looked up into his calm, unblinking eyes, feeling my tough, lone-wolf persona completely melting away into a fragile, embarrassed mess.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, my voice dropping into a low, gravelly rasp that barely carried through the quiet of the doorway. "That girl... her perfect, sugary angel aura was starting to severely irritate my nervous system. I couldn't handle another second of it."

Shin didn't scold me, and he didn't call me crazy for acting like a territorial freak in front of the student president. He just stepped closer into my personal space, his hand reaching out to gently, tenderly pinch the soft skin of my cheek, his thumb erasing the tension from my jawline.

"It's okay, boss, just let me speak next time," he whispered, his smile genuine and infinitely soft.

A small, helpless breath escaped my lips. I leaned into his touch for a brief second, then stepped forward, pressing a fast, lingering kiss directly onto his warm cheek. Just like that. In front of everyone. I didn't care, not at all.

"It's going to be remarkably hard to walk without your shadow today, Shin," I murmured, my eyes dropping away from his face to fix on his leather shoes. "But... I'll be waiting for you at your apartment. I'm going to handle the dinner preparation tonight, so just focus on your logistics and don't stress yourself too much. Don't worry about anything."

Shin blinked, a look of soft surprise crossing his features. "Thank you, Akane. Really. But you honestly don't have to push yourself to do all that—"

"I have to," I interrupted quietly, a small, playful laugh clearing my throat—but deep behind the syllable, a cold, heavy ache of raw insecurity tightened around my heart. I looked up at him through my dark fringe, my voice cracking just a fraction. "I have to do it... Otherwise, you'll start to grow completely bored with my company, dumbhead."

I tried to keep the tone light, to make it sound like another one of my arrogant, dry jokes, but the dark fear of not being good enough—the terror that he would eventually realize I was too broken, too ruined to keep—was burning like acid behind my ribs.

"That's impossible, Akane," Shin swore softly, his eyes locking onto mine with an uncompromising finality that left zero room for doubt.

"Go to class, ghost boy," I whispered, offering him one last, small smile before I turned on my heel.

"Yeah, Death Lady," He said, with a soft voice.

I marched down the quiet hallway toward my own class, my leather combat boots making a solitary, heavy thud against the linoleum.

As soon as I had arrived, I slid into my wooden desk, dropping my chin into my palm as I stared blankly out the window at the gray clouds gathering over the northern ridge. I didn't even care about what the teacher was saying because I was too focused on something else, surely more important than that stupid lesson.

A strange, suffocating sensation was settling deep into the center of my heart—a heavy, scratching friction that I couldn't logically explain, but it felt old, dangerous, and entirely too close to a storm.

I stared at the empty courtyard below, my fingers tightening into a fist under the desk as I waited for the final bell to ring.

My soul felt strange, and I was discovering sides of me that I had never seen before.

'I'm... I'm not like him... I won't...' I kept repeating to myself, but my body was betraying me.

Whenever the images of Sora interacting with Shin flashed into my mind, my fists would automatically clench, and my feet would start tap dancing against the floor.

'For how long am I going to suppress this part of me...? Shin must live... I must trust him... and I do... but why does it hurt so much? Why do I want him to focus only on me? This is not right... I'm so scared...'