Renji had been asked many questions in his life, most of which he had answered with little to no difficulty, and then he would receive a test score.

Of all questions he'd been asked, none was as difficult as this one.

He sat frozen on his stool, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes quivering, and his jaw slackened.

For a time that felt like an eternity, Hitomi's unexpected question hung in the air, like a sudden storm cloud over their planning session.

What even made it worse was her nervous, cute face.

Her cheeks were flushed, red like pretty cherries, and her eyes were wide and hopeful, lips parted in that tiny determined quiver.

And she was gazing at him. So intensely, so cutely, as she waited.

What was he supposed to say?

She wanted to be his girlfriend? Him?

Renji's mind reeled, shock rippling through him as he processed the words.

For a long time he'd asked himself this question, but now it was more valid than ever.

Why the hell did Hitomi even like him so much?

Was it just because she'd been peeping, watching him rail Miss Haruka through door cracks? Did her perverted little secret fuel some twisted crush?

Or had it always been there, and like most guys, he just didn't notice?

Come to think about it, Hitomi had always been giving him the stares ever since they turned seventeen.

Renji never thought anything about it then. He'd merely assumed she pitied him.

It couldn't be that she had liked him since then, could it?

No, that made no sense.

Hitomi was the Class President. She was the most popular girl, the prize of Seihou High. She came from a wealthy family and she was super smart as well.

Renji was a nerd.

Not just a school nerd, but a freaking otaku.

None of the other girls gave two fucks about him. They were either fawning over Kaito or either of his goons.

Weren't those the kind of guys Hitomi should date?

The flashy money, the confident swagger, the entitled charm that came with being top of the food chain.

Kaito with his perfect hair and family connections, Jiro's athletic build, Iroha's popularity and Haru's connections.

They were the idols, the ones who got the valentines and the whispers.

He was… Renji.

So why was it different for Hitomi?

She was cute, sure—slender with those plump accents on her boobs and ass that made her skirt sway just right.

She could get any guy she wanted.

But not Renji.

And that was because, in the end, despite everything, Hitomi wasn't a MILF.

She wasn't thick and experienced like the women who ignited his real fire.

He shook his head slightly, snapping out of the internal whirlwind, and offered a nice, gentle refusal.

He didn't want to sound harsh, didn't want to crush her completely, so he spoke like he was checking the dictionary meaning of every word before it left his mouth.

"Hitomi… that's uhm… I don't know what to say but I'm flattered, really."

Hitomi's face lowered. "You're saying no, aren't you?"

Renji stammered. "I—It's just that... I'm not really looking for a relationship right now. Why don't we focus on the art stuff, yeah?"

Like a light flickering out, the hopeful glint in Hitomi's eyes dimmed instantly.

Her shoulders slumped and she nodded slowly, forcing a sad smile that didn't reach her eyes. "O-okay… yeah, the art… you're right."

Her voice was small, cracking just a bit at the edges, and she busied herself with the clipboard, flipping pages unnecessarily.

Renji stared at her, his heart heavy with guilt.

Hitomi, meanwhile, felt utterly broken.

'Why did he reject me?' she thought. 'Is it because I'm not pretty enough? My boobs aren't as big as Miss Haruka's… and I'll never be as good as her in sex, never make him feel that way.'

'I'm not attractive enough for him.'

The thoughts swirled in her mind, self-doubt gnawing as she peeked at him.

Renji looked away and her cheeks burned with embarrassment and sadness.

Regardless of everything, they managed to continue the plans.

Hitomi managed a weak smile, pushing the folder closer, her knee no longer bumping his, her hand no longer "accidentally" touching his.

"We will request for a budget on Friday. List premiums: archival canvases for the physical base, high-res printer paper for digital mocks, maybe a tablet loan from the AV club for VR previews. I'm sure I can get my mom to sign them off pretty quickly."

"That's great," Renji said, glancing at her.

She quickly looked away. 'He must think that I'm childish… My body is not good enough.'

"Sooo… Should we lean traditional or go bold?" Renji asked her.

She shrugged sadly, tracing a finger over a past winner's photo. "Bold stands out, but safe technique scores high. We can mix realistic bases with conceptual twists."

"You mean like studying Aiko's layers with others? She was sorta realistic based, right?"

"Yeah… I can pull more examples next time, I'll get historical maps from the library archives."

Her plump ass shifted on the stool, skirt creasing, but the earlier playfulness was gone, replaced by quiet resignation.

It was awkward now.

But at least they got it all done.

Sketches by Monday, mock-ups Wednesday, budget draft Thursday; research split: her on historical urban refs, him on futuristic tech integrations; and then progress reports to her mom weekly but detailed.

"I guess that's all," Hitomi said softly, her eyes downcast.

Renji closed the sketchpad, standing. "Yeah. It was a pretty solid plan, I'd say."

"Yeah."

They stood like that for a moment, staring at each other.

Saying nothing.

Finally, it was Renji who broke the silence. "Goodbye for now. See you on Monday."

Hitomi smiled weakly. "Yeah. Bye, Renji."

She watched him pick up his schoolbag and turn to leave.

But she called him back, blurting out his name with a heavy heart. "Renji… wait!" Her lips trembled.

Renji paused and turned around slowly. "What's wrong?"

Hitomi smiled. It was an almost sad smile, but still very pretty.

"I'm rooting for you, Renji," she said.

Hmm? Renji froze.

"Everyone wants you to win just so you can make the school proud… but I want you to win so you can enjoy the benefits and be proud of yourself. You deserve it."

Renji stared at her.

He wasn't sure of what to say, the words had hit unexpectedly deep. It made his heart feel heavy, and a sudden guilt twisted in his gut for rejecting her so bluntly.

Did Hitomi really care about him?

"Thank you, Hitomi," he said softly, voice sincere. "Head on home safe."

She nodded, watching him leave with that sad smile fading, standing alone in the art room as the door clicked shut.

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