But that was easier said than done. All I could manage was to secretly watch Ishida and Louis as they were at the gymnasium. Just a peek, I told myself. Just to see what they were doing so it would help me come up with a plan.

Through the window, I watched Louis and Ishida together. It was like something straight out of my favorite BL manga—the exotic transfer student and the perfect Japanese beauty. Louis towered over everyone else, moving with an almost predatory grace, while Ishida bounced around with his natural, effortless charm.

My heart skipped when I noticed how the other students treated them differently. Louis seemed to struggle with some of the social cues, his jokes falling flat or his responses coming off a bit cold. But Ishida? He was like a ray of sunshine, knowing exactly how to smooth over any awkward moment.

I cringed as Ishida kept pushing Louis to have a match with him to get a feel for it. The way the other club members joined in made my stomach turn. Their encouragement felt... wrong. Like they were setting up Louis for failure, especially with all the girls watching. Poor Ishida probably couldn't even tell—he was too excited about sharing his passion with his new friend.

Then it happened. The slam that shook the whole gym.

My jaw dropped. One second, the match was starting, and the next—BAM! Ishida was flat on his back, with Louis standing over him. Something had changed in Louis's face just before it happened. His usual calm expression had hardened into something... different.

They kept sparring, but it wasn't practice anymore. Each time, Louis won more decisively than the last while he had this bored or annoyed look on his face. As if this was nothing but a nuisance to him. I could see it in Ishida's eyes—that lost look of someone who'd just met their match and then some. But being Ishida, he covered it with a laugh and insisted Louis join the team.

I could have watched them forever, especially the way Louis moved with such deadly grace. But then Mayumi appeared at the gym entrance, and my heart sank. Here we go again with her flirting and—

Wait. Something was different.

Mayumi hung back, fidgeting with her uniform sleeve. Gone was her usual swagger, replaced by an almost hesitant demeanor I'd never seen before. She kept glancing at Ishida between watching the matches, a soft smile playing on her lips whenever he celebrated a good throw or helped someone up.

Huh. So the rumors are true. I'd heard whispers about them being childhood friends, their families close-knit despite their different social standings. The way she acted around him was like night and day compared to her usual self. No sultry poses or calculated hair flips—just genuine smiles and quiet support from the sidelines.

It was kind of adorable, actually. Who knew the queen bee could look so... normal? Almost sweet, even. Like she didn't have to prove anything to anyone when Ishida was around.

"You really don't know when to give up, huh?"

My blood ran cold. That voice. I turned around slowly, already knowing what I'd find.

There they stood—Lackey #1 and Lackey #2, arms crossed and wearing identical smirks.

"Oh, hi guys," I stammered, backing up against the wall. "What a coincidence."

I pressed my back against the wall, wishing I could melt into it as the two girls cornered me. My heart hammered in my chest.

"Why do you do this to yourself, girl?" Rika asked, her voice softer than I expected. "You know you don't stand a chance against Mayumi."

I stared at my feet, counting the scuff marks on my shoes. Maybe if I stayed quiet long enough, they'd get bored and leave.

"This is just sad," Nami muttered to Rika. "We're starting to look like the bullies here."

Wait, what? I risked a glance up. Their faces had lost their usual mean-girl sneers.

"Anyway, girl, we're not here to stop you," Rika said, almost... gently? "We were honestly just curious and wanted to give you some advice. Give up, you're no match for Mayu—no one at this school is."

"But I do like an underdog story, so go for it. No skin off my bones," Nami added with a shrug.

My brain short-circuited. Were Mayumi's lackeys actually being... nice? To me? Was this some kind of fever dream? Maybe I'd hit my head earlier and was hallucinating.

"You might be too late though," Rika said, smirking.

What does she mean? I spun around so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. The gym was still packed with people talking about the match, but while I could see Ishida talking to the judo club guys, there was no sign of Mayumi.

As their laughter faded down the hallway, my stomach twisted into knots. Had they planned this? Keep me distracted while... while Mayumi ran off with Louis? The thought made my chest tight. Was I too late?

My feet carried me through familiar streets as I searched desperately for any sign of Louis or Mayumi. I'd already checked the gym, the courtyard, even peeked into empty classrooms. Nothing. They'd vanished like characters written out of a story.

But I wasn't done yet. I still had one card left to play.

My heart raced as I approached Louis's apartment building. I'd followed him here before—not in a creepy way, I swear. Just... research. Yeah, that's what I'll call it. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the modern glass facade as I paced back and forth on the sidewalk.

Just wait here, I told myself. When they show up, I'll casually walk by. Oh, hey, what a coincidence! Total accident.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Minutes crawled by like hours. My mind tortured me with images I didn't want to see. Louis and Mayumi together, alone in his apartment. Her perfect body pressed against his. Their lips meeting in a passionate—

No. Stop it. Stop it!

Before I knew what I was doing, my finger pressed the intercom button labeled "Devereux." The silence that followed was deafening. I pressed it again. And again. And again.

Nothing.

My cheeks burned with shame. What was I doing? This wasn't like me at all. I turned to leave, ready to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.

"Should I leave the door open for you?"

I froze. An older woman stood in the doorway, holding it open with a gentle smile.

My mouth went dry. This was my chance—my moment to either walk away or cross a line.

I nodded. "Yes, thank you."

I shamefully walked through the entrance hall and headed straight to the elevator. As the door opened, I stepped inside, my heart thundering against my ribs. My finger hovered over the button for the fifth floor, which I knew from my "research." The doors slid shut with a soft ding that felt like a death knell.

What was I even doing here? This wasn’t me. I wasn’t the type to chase boys or sneak into apartment buildings. But the thought of Louis and Mayumi together made my stomach churn.

The elevator crawled upward, each floor bringing fresh waves of doubt. How would I explain knowing where he lived? What would I even say if I found them... together?

My mind wandered to dangerous places. Louis, with his perfect face and aristocratic manner. Mayumi, with her curves and confidence. The French were different about relationships, weren’t they? More... open? My face burned at the thought. Being with both of them wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world...

I shook my head violently. What was I thinking? These weren’t normal thoughts. This wasn’t a trashy romance manga!

The elevator doors opened, and I stumbled out. My legs carried me down the hallway until I stood before his door. Sweat trickled down my back, and my face felt like it was on fire.

I knocked softly. Nothing.

The doorbell came next. Silence.

Panic seized me, and I knocked harder, my fist almost pounding against the wood. The empty hallway echoed my desperation back at me.

Relief washed over me like an ice-cold bucket of water—no one was home. Flashes of my thoughts and actions came rushing back to me. I wished the building would crumble and take me with it.

What was I doing? What was I thinking? This was insane. I had to get out of here before—

The elevator dinged.

Mayumi's laughter filled the hallway. My body went rigid.

They were here.

I was trapped between them and Louis's door, like a rabbit facing down wolves.

I panicked, my feet doing a frantic dance as their voices drew closer. Without thinking, I tried the door handle—and to my shock, it turned. I stumbled inside, my heart threatening to burst from my chest.

His apartment was massive, western-style, with high ceilings and huge windows. But I had no time to admire the view. Their footsteps echoed in the hallway, getting closer by the second. My eyes darted around desperately until they landed on a plush leather couch. I dove behind it just as the door clicked open.

"Wow, Louis, you have all this to yourself? You must be loaded." Mayumi's voice dripped with admiration.

Louis's laugh held a nervous edge. "Not really. Compared to Paris, Kagoshima is super affordable, and the exchange rate worked in my favor. In Paris, this place's rent wouldn't even get you a decent studio apartment."

"Well, but it's Paris." I could hear the eye-roll in Mayumi's voice. "I'd happily be homeless in Paris rather than live here."

"Trust me, Paris is far from the romantic city you've heard about. Anywhere in Japan is ten times cleaner and better. Plus, the people here are so nice and polite."

Mayumi dismissed his words with a wave. My chest tightened—I understood her perfectly. She wanted more than this small-city life, just like me.

"I'll grab you a shirt," Louis said suddenly. "Since you spilled your drink." His footsteps retreated toward what I assumed was his bedroom.

So this is how she managed to make him take her home—sneaky bitch.

When he returned, I heard rustling fabric. I couldn't help but peek around the couch. Mayumi had started unbuttoning her blouse, but Louis didn't react, looking straight at her. Instead, she turned red and asked him to look away.

"You can use one of the rooms," he said casually, directing her elsewhere.

I sat frozen, listening to Louis checking on her through the door. When she finally emerged, I risked another glance. My breath caught—she wore his oversized shirt like a dress, her usual confidence replaced by shy fidgeting.

"Thank you for the shirt," she stammered. He looked at her and said, "Don't worry about it," looking straight down at her eyes. She looked so innocent and helpless, endlessly fidgeting with her hair, not knowing where to look. They looked so hot, I couldn't help myself—I was fuming.

"I'll wash it and bring it back tomorrow!" she said nervously, moving to grab her things and practically running for the door. For some reason, all my attention was on Mayumi. I'd never seen her look anything like this—she looked so cute and vulnerable I felt like I just wanted to run to her and... Wait... What am I thinking?

"I'll walk you home," Louis offered, and Mayumi's face lit up in a way I'd never seen before.

After they left, I collapsed onto the floor, letting out a shaky breath. I felt so happy, but I wasn't sure if it was because nothing happened between them or if it was because Mayumi didn't handle this situation any better than I could. But as relief washed over me, a new thought crept in—I was alone in his apartment. What do I do now? I should just take this opportunity and leave before he comes back, let this journey end on a positive note. But my curiosity wouldn't let me. I'm in Louis Devereux's apartment, after all.

I should leave. I really should leave. But my feet wouldn't move toward the door. Instead, they carried me deeper into his apartment.

The living room walls were lined with bookshelves filled with leather-bound classics. No manga in sight—just serious literature. I checked his TV, finding no saved channels or viewing history. His closet revealed designer clothes that belonged in fashion magazines.

A corner by the window caught my eye. Vinyl records, all classical music, arranged meticulously beside a record player. The view from there was incredible—Kagoshima Bay stretched out below, Sakurajima's silhouette looming in the distance. I sat in the leather armchair, picturing Louis here after school, lost in Beethoven or Mozart. I reached for the record player but stopped myself. Better not risk breaking something so expensive.

The bathroom smelled amazing—his shampoo was definitely imported. I stood in his shower, face burning as certain thoughts crossed my mind. His kitchen was just as perfect: the massive fridge packed with meal-prepped bentos, each labeled with days of the week.

I touched everything, inspected every corner. Even smelled his shoes—which, embarrassingly, I didn’t mind. But something felt wrong. The place was too perfect, like a furniture showroom. Nothing looked used. Maybe he was a spy? Or... a vampire?

The thought sent a thrill through me. I started looking for secret passages, checking behind paintings and tapping walls. And in one of the walk-in closets, I found something unexpected—a workspace. But instead of spy gear or blood bags, I found manga. Stacks of romantic comedy manga.

My heart leaped. Louis was an otaku! I grabbed the first volume, eager to see if we shared favorites. But as I flipped through more volumes, my excitement faded. They were all the same genre: shy girl meets foreign transfer student at school. And there it was—Twilight Blossom.

Everything clicked. Our first meeting, the rooftop lunch—they matched scenes from the manga perfectly. His notes confirmed it, analyzing every interaction in meticulous detail: when to smile, when to look away, the exact phrases to use. He'd categorized and assigned roles to our classmates like they were characters in his personal story, marking who would be helpful and who needed to be kept away. Then I found my student file, filled with pages documenting my every move, my habits, my reactions to his carefully planned scenarios. Each interaction we'd had was dissected and evaluated, with adjustments noted for future "scenes."

My knees gave out. What did I get myself into? I have to get away from here right now!