Chapter 38: Face to Face
Haruto stepped out of the school building, The afternoon sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard. He was just thinking about heading straight home when he spotted her.
Azame was standing there near the school gates, looking as elegant as always with that mysterious smile playing on her lips. Haruto stopped in his tracks, still not entirely sure whether he was looking at the real Azame or just another one of her atomic clones. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if there was a difference anymore. The whole clone thing still messed with his head.
"Oh, there you are," she said, her voice carrying that usual hint of amusement. She walked over to him with those graceful steps of hers, like she was floating rather than walking. "You should be thanking me, you know."
Haruto scratched the back of his head, not really in the mood for whatever game she was playing today. "Thanks, I guess," he said simply, figuring it was probably about the exam or something. With Azame, you never really knew what she was referring to.
Her smile widened a bit, and she tilted her head slightly. "So, about my offer from before... you know, about being my boyfriend?"
There it was. Haruto had been hoping she’d forgotten about that whole mess, but apparently not. He let out a small sigh and looked her straight in the eye. "Look, I appreciate it and all, but I’m not really interested in getting tangled up with girls right now. Nothing personal."
It wasn’t that Azame wasn’t attractive – she definitely was, in that otherworldly way of hers. But Haruto had learned the hard way that getting involved with powerful people usually meant trouble, and Azame was about as powerful as they came. Besides, he had enough problems without adding relationship drama to the mix.
Before Azame could respond, another voice cut through the conversation.
"Well, well, what do we have here?"
Both Haruto and Azame turned to see a guy approaching them. Haruto recognized him immediately – Ryouta, the same asshole who’d been giving him grief lately. The guy had that typical delinquent look going on, with his bleached hair and that cocky smirk that made you want to punch it right off his face.