SAEKI
Emergency!! Emergency!! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ'Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡
Meet me in the school courtyard NOW!

Not exactly the type of text I expected to see after going my separate ways from Kohana and the other fangirls.

It was a rarity for Saeki to text me in the first place, seeing as Moe made him promise to always go to her first if he needed anything. It didn't help that class was set to start in mere minutes, also.

Burying my confusion, I made the journey to the location indicated. Considering the onslaught of students, it took me a while to slip between the cracks of chaos and get a good view of the surrounding area. To my disappointment, Saeki was nowhere to be found.

I grabbed my phone to text him. Right as I did, haphazard strands of lavender-coloured hair caught my eye from behind the largest tree in the courtyard.

Saeki's head meekly poked out afterward.

"Psst! Anri, Anri!"

He beckoned me over, completely oblivious about his sad attempt at hiding. Arching an eyebrow, I scampered over, and crouched on the grass next to him. It was unusually wet and muddy, a signal that it must've rained last night.

"What's going on?" I asked. "Why all the secrecy?"

His eye not shielded by his lengthy hair glistened under the summer sun. I linked his emanating excitement to the items he had clutched to his chest. From what I could gather, it was a giant tote bag carrying what appeared to be a canvas, as well as a bouquet of. . .

"Roses?" I realized.

"I need your opinion," he answered, beaming from ear to ear. "As I'm sure you're aware, me and Momo's fifth anniversary is coming up very soon—"

His voice caught in his throat, cutting his spiel short. Ever so surely, his eyelid fluttered open and closed, and then open again. He tilted his head and squinted.

"Um, Anri? Is it me, or do you look different today?"

I rested my arms against my lap, my bracelets clinking with the action. I should've expected he'd catch on. As Saeki had kindly pointed out, I hadn't joined the Meguru Nanase fan club on merit alone. To sell the act, it was paramount I looked the part of a fashionista.

Hence, my hair was no longer held up in a ponytail. Instead, the long, curly wig I'd adorned flowed in rivulets down my back, with cutesy heart-shaped hairpins holding back my bangs. I'd also undone the first dress button of my dress shirt, had my cardigan tied loosely around my hips, and even tugged up my skirt high above my belly button in order to show off more of my legs.

My sense of fashion was still ways off. I was going for a model-y type of look, especially with my makeup. Likely, that was too generous of a comparison. To most veterans, I probably looked no better than a clown. All I was missing was a bright red nose.

Oh, well. It was good enough to convince Kohana, so I'd take it as a win.

"I'm, like, more stunning than usual, aren't I?" I said, dramatically flicking my hair over my shoulder.

Saeki gulped loud enough for me to hear.

"You're. . . talking at a higher pitch than normal, too," he noted, as if terrified to hear the reason why.

"It's totally, like, your imagination. I'm like, the same as always, silly."

There wasn't a single word capable of describing the sheer amount of disgust that claimed his features.

Hanging his head like a defeated puppy, he released a sigh. "Do I even want to ask about that gigantic book you're carrying?"

I hugged the Nanase4Life manifesto to my chest. "Probably not."

"Momo is definitely going to chew you out. . ."

Yeah. . . Wasn't looking forward to that, and the merciless interrogation that was sure to unfold thereafter.

"Speaking of Momo!" Saeki exclaimed, as if finally recalling the reason he'd summoned me here. Within seconds, he'd shoved the canvas from his bag up against my face. "You have to promise to keep this a secret, but— Wh-what do you think of this?"

No exaggeration, the sight knocked the wind out of me.

Slack-jawed, I took hold of the seams, but no matter how much I blinked, the beautiful sight refused to cement in my mind.

It was a portrait that rivalled the Mona Lisa— Okay, that was an exaggeration. Still, that didn't negate the fact that it was a breathtaking oil painting. Of Momoe Mizuki. My best and dearest friend.

The anatomy, the symmetry, the colours, the shading; everything was worked upon with tireless precision. It was unbelievably stunning.

"No way," I sputtered in disbelief. "You painted this?"

"I-It's not the best, I know. But it took me months of consistently working at it. I had to start over from scratch an embarrassing number of times."

Saeki was the least artistic person I knew. Scratch that. He was up there as one of the worst artists, period. Growing up, our art teachers would regularly have to ask him what he was trying to portray, because his scribbly lines and questionable colour palette likened his artworks to a kindergartener's chicken scratches. Moe and I had our fair share of laughs over his questionable doodles and sketches in the past.

So, to be able to muster something like this—albeit for Moe—I couldn't even begin to imagine how many hours and practice he had to put in.

"How much sleep did you sacrifice?" I demanded, taking into account the dark circles under his eye. It took everything in my power to fight an aww. "Saeki, what the heck. Moe's gonna love this."

"D-do you think so?" he asked in a soft voice. The nerves were pooling off him; his clammy complexion served as proof. "I really, really hope so."

"It's highly likely she's going to bake you something, right? She does every year." My mouth watered at the thought. "Save some for me."

He laughed. "I would, but I don't think Momo would like that very much."

My shoulders slumped as I returned the portrait to him for safekeeping.

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Moe would hate my involvement.

What did fiction call it? The possessive girlfriend trope?

That described Moe to a T.

It was why she forbade Saeki from owning any social media accounts. She feared that by broadening his horizons, another girl would catch his fancy and he would one day fall out of love with her. To prevent that, she boxed him in. Limited his outings, and even monitored all of his phone calls and text messages, including those between me and him.

Moe was that type of girlfriend. She knew all of his passwords, and constantly went on his phone to ensure he wasn't messaging random girls or secretly seeing someone else.

Sure, in our day in age, stuff like that happened pretty often, but Moe took it a touch beyond. She didn't trust him. None the wiser, Saeki obliged, all because he adored Moe.

Saeki would never do anything like that in the first place, so her concerns were misplaced. All Saeki saw was Moe. Any outsider—including me who'd grown up alongside them—could tell how much he treasured her.

Heck, this elaborate portrait was proof enough!

Yet, Moe herself didn't see it. Or, if she did, that only added to her insecurity. Hence, why even the tiniest misunderstanding led to her breaking up with him every couple of months, and Saeki begging on his hands and knees for her to forgive him and take him back. Even though, in hindsight, he'd done nothing wrong.

Although they were my best friends, their relationship sometimes gave me a headache.

"Fiiine," I sighed. "Enjoy it enough for the both of us. Although, for all my trouble, something with chocolate would be most appreciated. . ."

Saeki fought another smile at my undertone. "I'll treat you to something chocolate-related one of these days. It's the least I can do. Thank you for coming all this way to hear me out, Anri."

"Were you seriously worrying yourself to death about this?" I teased.

He vehemently bobbed his head. "I thought my heart was going to fail from the nerves. I desperately needed to hear somebody's opinion. I-I mean, I've never done something like this. Moe always makes fun of my art—rightfully so. But at the museum we visited a few months ago, she mentioned she would love to have a portrait of herself, a-and I got an idea. . . but the idea was so far-fetched, and I had no clue how to properly execute it, and the more I stared at my painting the more flaws I could see until it started making me sick to my stomach, but it was too late to restart so I told myself I should just suck it up and give it to her at the end of the week—and—and—and—"

"Breathe, Saeki!" I shouted.

"Y—you do that with your lungs, right?" he squeaked out the last bit of oxygen in his system.

I patted his back, guiding him through deep breathing exercises. Soon, his normal breathing rhythm returned, and the blue in his face dissolved, replacing it with a sickly red.

"Maybe I can start over on a new present. I still have a few more days left—"

"You've got this." Gosh, did he look ready to faint. I gripped and shook his shoulders. "Get it together, man. Moe loves you as much as you love her. She'll notice in a heartbeat how much effort you put into this. That's all she'll care about, trust me."

"B-but." He traced the canvas. "The uneven lines—"

"Art is imperfect, just like us humans," I reminded him. "Besides, you aren't some professional artist. No amateur should compare themselves to a veteran with years to their name. Last I knew, all you could draw were ugly stick figures. Look how far you've come! All for the sake of the girl you love! Besides, if this is how much you improved in months, imagine what a few more, or years will do? Imagine all the portraits you can draw for Moe in the future, each one better than the last?"

Colour slowly returned to his cheeks, as did a sparkle to his glossy-eyes. "That. . . would be nice if I can do that. I want to do Momo's beauty justice, and make her happy."

How wholesome. "That's the spirit," I said, giving his arm one last pat. "Think of it that way and make the most of this anniversary. This is just the starting line."

As if a load had been lifted off his shoulders, Saeki's facial features softened, and his lips peeled into a meek smile.

"You always give the best relationship advice, Anri. Which is funny because you've never been in one yourself."

Was it good advice? I had to question it. It felt more like common sense to me. However, if I truly had to explain why that was the case. . .

"It's because I've known you and Moe since we were eight." I'd put it into words. "When it comes to you two, I can see things objectively. I can tell when you're not okay, and give a listening ear when anything happens."

"The same goes for us." I'd admit, his response wasn't one I expected. "The whole school has been making up horrible rumours about you. And that newspaper club is only making it worse. Are you sure you're okay? That it's all really not bothering you?"

"I told you guys I'm fine. Besides, those rumours aren't far from the truth."

His lips wilted into a frown. "So you say, but I don't believe for a second that you'd ever steal test answers and cheat. No matter how much you hated Takumi growing up."

"Hatred is a pretty strong motivator," I excused. "I wanted to ruin his life. . . I really, really wanted to."

"Not anymore, though?"

He caught onto my melancholic undertone, to which I quickly squeezed his shoulder a second time.

"Turns out, revenge wasn't worth it." I grinned. "I only wish I realized that before I screwed things up so badly my reputation had to suffer for it."

Saeki's cheeks puffed up like a pufferfish. "There you go again, making it sound like you really did it."

"'Cuz I did."

"You're a bad liar, Anri," he refuted. "Just say the word and Momo and I can storm the newspaper club and make the president stop lying on your name."

The mention spawned a distasteful image of Kiryuu's ingratiatingly smug face. I waved the mirage away at once.

"Don't bother. That guy doesn't listen to reason."

Besides, a deal was a deal. Even if Kiryuu was going above and beyond our terms and conditions.

"I'm serious," Saeki affirmed. "If push comes to shove, I know self-defence."

"Yeah, yeah. That one karate class you took back in the sixth grade will do wonders."

His cheeks doubled in size, like a chipmunk's stuffed with acorns.

"I'll sign up for more lessons if I have to," he asserted, now pouting. "If you ever have any problems, just let us know, please. We're here for you, too."

"I get it," I insisted, unable to handle the fluffy atmosphere. "Thanks, Saeki."

Off the top of my head, I couldn't recall the last time we'd shared a meaningful conversation like this—not for this long, much less without Moe. It reminded me of the days we used to hang out during the first half of the second grade before Moe entered our lives, and we went from being a duo, to an official trio.

We used to get up to all sorts of silly shenanigans back then. Intense hide-and-seek tournaments, extravagant forts and sleepovers, creating pretend scenarios and storylines to act along to. We let our imagination run wild. Only around the two of them, was I allowed to act like a regular kid.

"Hmmm."

The low, malicious hum originated from behind. A dark shadow cast over us thereafter.

Saeki's face blued, a signal that whatever loomed behind me, whoever that low, malicious hum belonged to, was far from amicable.

Swallowing hard, I robotically craned my neck. Moe's twitching smile bled wrath.

"Anri. Sae." She squeezed bag straps with adamant force to distort their shape. "Care to explain what you two are doing together—alone?"

My blood ran cold.

Even Saeki, who scrambled up from the ground, was visibly unnerved.

"I—I was consulting her on something!"

"Something you couldn't consult with me?" Her chartreuse eyes lost all means of vibrancy. "And you had to do it in a place so secluded, with no means of bystanders?"

"Yes," Saeki innocently responded, however, immediately realizing his mistake, gasped and sputtered, "I-I mean, no! Absolutely not! Momo, I—"

Coming to his aid, I quickly spoke, "Saeki and I, we were discussing. . . A-about your baking and how delicious it always is! In fact, I dream about your chocolate cakes practically every night! It's been a while since I last had it. Do you think you can bake me one?"

Moe's dead stare bore a hole right through my composure. She clenched her bag with adept force to snap it off. "I'm not baking you a chocolate cake."

"Strawberry shortcake, then? Yes! I love you, bestie!"

"You're not getting a dessert."

"Boo! Meanie! Cold duchess of the north!"

"Stop that!" she snapped.

I sulkily kicked the air. "I just want something sweet."

For some reason, her anger overflowed like lava from a volcano.

"Anri," she seethed. "Clearly, you find this situation funny. But I'll tell you right now what's not. You know very well—BECAUSE I told you, so many times. I don't want Saeki alone with another girl, especially without me knowing. Even if that girl is you."

"Momo," Saeki interjected, "I'm the one who asked Anri to meet me here. I desperately needed an opinion on something—"

"I'm the only one you should be going to!" Moe's shrill voice brought the entire world to a standstill grounding me to the gravity of the present situation. "My opinion and consultation are all you need! Then, and only then, can you go to Anri for a second or third opinion."

His shoulders tremored. "I-I know, but—but this was. . . It was extremely, extremely important."

"Uh-huh." She tightly crossed her arms over her chest. "So, that's how it is. We're keeping secrets now?"

"That's not it!"

"Then, tell me what it is you're hiding."

"I. . . I can't."

She chewed her lip.

"But I will!" Saeki tried. "Eventually!"

The air around them swirled with tension—which was a stark contrast from their typically lovey-dovey charade that typically ensued whenever they crossed paths. Whatever lightheartedness lingering from earlier no longer remained.

I gulped. This was getting a bit out of hand.

"Moe," I intervened, "you should trust Saeki on this before you jump to conclusions. You're kinda overreacting—"

"I'm overreacting?" she jeered. "Have you seen what you're wearing?"

She noticed.

"A wig?" she practically spat. "Fake nails? Short skirt? Oh my God. And you put extra padding in your bra to make your boobs look bigger! I can literally see your cleavage!"

My lips met in a purse. "Okay now you're lying and you know it. Cleavage where? I'm flatter than that brick wall."

I waved to the wall encasing the school building for emphasis.

Her teeth could've grounded into dust with how heavily she clenched them together. "Point is!" she hissed. "You're all glammed up and showing off a lot of skin. In front of my boyfriend. In this secluded area. Without me. Which, for the record, you know is something I can get easily insecure about. And now you and Sae are supposedly keeping secrets from me, too? Look me in the eye again and tell me I'm overreacting!"

Complexion a clammy white, Saeki's eyes were glazed over in panic.

"You've got the wrong idea, Momo!" he pleaded. "Th-this is all my fault. I made a mistake. I-I'm sorry. I—I should have thought this through better."

In a slew of emotions, he clawed his way back to his tote bag and thrust the oil painting into Moe's eyes.

"H-here!" he cried. "I—I wasn't going to show you this until the end of the week, but. . . !"

In a fictional rom-com, the endeavour would have opened Moe's eyes. She'd gush and squeal, and rainbows, butterflies, and a flower patch would spawn from thin air, they would kiss, and the HAPPY ENDING credits would roll.

However, reality wasn't so kind. It never was.

Jacked up with as much adrenaline as she was, Moe didn't think even twice before slapping the canvas out of his hands. It collapsed onto a muddy patch of grass, like litter off the side of the road.

"Don't try to change the subject," she snapped, tears bubbling over her eyes. "I don't care about some measly art project you did in class! I need the truth! You don't trust me anymore? You can't confide in me? Have you. . . stopped loving me?"

"Moe!" I cut in. "That art piece—"

"This is between me and Sae," she snapped. "Stay out of our business, Anri!"

Straightaway, she stiffened, as if instantly regretting her words.

"Look," she finally choked out. "I know I have no reason to react like this. But, you don't get how I feel, because you've never been in love. You always make me feel so stupid about my feelings for Sae. . ." She shook her head, as if to lay the topic at rest. "I'll get to the bottom of whatever the hell you're wearing later. Let's go, Sae."

At that, she dragged him off by the arm, and like a limp ragdoll void of will, he mindlessly followed. A mixture of pain, shock, and disbelief were written all across his face. Even then, his apologies carried the distance.

"I-I'm sorry, Momo. I really am. Please don't be mad at me o-or Anri."

"Jeez, the only reason I'm angry is because neither of you are telling me what it is you're hiding! You know how much I hate it when you keep secrets from me, Sae. Now, tell me what exactly was so important you had to meet up with somebody else behind my back."

Whatever they said henceforth blurred and meshed into white noise.

Crouching, I grazed Saeki's painting, or whatever remained of it, anyway. Covered in mud and wet grass as it was, it was no longer possible to distinguish one brush stroke from another; decipher what the painting was even of.

All that effort and hours had no meaning, after all.

She said I didn't understand how she felt, and that was true, I didn't.

I didn't understand the vulnerability that came with falling in love with a real person. I didn't understand anything outside of the romanticized depictions I'd come across in fiction.

I just knew I wanted to be there for my friends, but because of their relationship, there came countless complexities in doing so.

No matter how many times I told her there was no point in insecurity or misplaced jealousy. That I had absolutely no interest in dating and pursuing a real-life romance. That Saeki of all people would be the last person I'd ever see in that kind of light.

(I'd rather gouge out my eyes with a spoon, actually.)

Similarly, Saeki would forever be head over heels for Moe.

Despite those facts, she still drew those strict lines.

Only around the two of them, was I allowed to act like a regular kid. But, once they started dating, slowly, that changed. In becoming a third wheel, the bond we used to share changed. In its place, there existed an unexplainable distance, boundaries, and rules. Things I couldn't say. Borders I couldn't cross.

"If you ever have any problems, just let us know, please. We're here for you, too."

Easier said than done.

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