A Story About a Handsome Girl Having Her First Kiss Stolen by an Equally Handsome Classmate - Episode 26

Next, we head to a nearby cafe.

I made a reservation in anticipation of it being busy, and it seems that was a good idea.

“You’re lucky you’re sitting by the window.”

“That’s true.”

The interior of the store is simply decorated in white, giving it an elegant and clean feel.

I thought to myself that it was a great choice for two girls to quietly fill their stomachs. We were shown to a table by the window and sat facing each other.

Wakamatsu orders hot coffee and an egg sandwich, while Mizuhara orders café au lait and a hot sandwich with tuna.

“Making the rings was fun. Maybe next time I’ll make perfume?”

“That sounds fun, but I prefer the usual smell of young pine.”

“Huh? I don’t wear perfume on weekdays…”

Mizuhara looked a little surprised, then muttered, “So it’s body odor.”

“Stop talking about body odor, you stink.”

“Hehe, young pine smells like sweet milk.”

“Ahaha, what’s that? A baby?”

She shares some trivia with me, saying that people who have a sweet body smell are popular. While I was admiring her smug look on her face, the set I ordered was delivered.

As she stuffed her cheeks with the sandwich, she couldn’t help but comment, “It’s delicious.” Mizuhara Shizuku also commented, “It’s delicious,” as she put the hot sandwich in her mouth. They both had smiles on their faces as they ate.

“It’s important to have similar tastes in food.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Eating the same food, feeling the same way, and sharing that experience.

I ate my sandwich and took a sip of coffee. The aroma of the coffee tickled my nose, and the warmth of the coffee relaxed my whole body. As we were looking out the window in between conversations, Mizuhara commented, “It’s picturesque,” and pointed her smartphone at Wakamatsu.

“Look at this, she’s cuter than most influencers out there.”

“Mizuhara, you’re good at taking photos.”

“It’s because the subjects are good. If I aimed for it, I could probably make it into showbiz.”

You’re praising me today.

As I took out my smartphone, I complimented her, saying, “You’re pretty too, Mizuhara,” and she gave me a puzzled look.

“You know, I don’t have that kind of face.”

“fart?”

Wakamatsu’s hand, which was about to take hold of the camera, stops at the sudden self-deprecating remark.

“I don’t get complimented on my appearance, like being called cute or beautiful.”

“Isn’t that too condescending?”

“It’s not self-deprecation, it’s a fact. After 16 years of life, I can judge my appearance to a certain extent.”

Mizuhara was adamant and finished her café au lait.

“…Mizuhara is cute.”

“Oh, are you still going to say it?”

“Because I do think so.”

The day I went to Mizuhara Shizuku’s house for the first time, when she had refused to go to school.

When I saw Mizuhara Shizuku entering the entrance for the first time in a month.

For a moment, it was as if time had stopped, and Wakamatsu’s eyes were captured. He was overwhelmed by Mizuhara Shizuku’s beauty.

“It’s beautiful, I can’t help but stare at it sometimes…”

Wakamatsu wondered if his face would turn red at just how embarrassing something he had just said was. Not wanting to show her his bright red face, he bowed his head and added, “That’s how much I like you.”

However, Mizuhara’s voice, who was talking fluently, could not be heard.

Wondering whether his words and actions had put his classmates off, he cautiously peeked over to see Mizuhara, who looked extremely upset.

Unusually, Mizuhara had a blush on her cheeks and looked away shyly.

Her face was so cute that I felt dizzy.

I left the cafe and headed towards the downtown area.

In response to a request to “buy a new clock for my room,” we take them to the various general stores on the street.

Even though it was going to be placed in Mizuhara’s room, she asked Wakamatsu to help her choose it.

Her room is mainly decorated in white and pink, so a silver clock is a safe choice.

“I will treasure it.”

“Yeah, take good care of it.”

Wakamatsu’s heart began to beat faster when he saw Mizuhara holding the watch with a happy look on his face.

At Wakamatsu’s request, we walked into a bookstore down the street.

He heads to the paperback area and browses for books. He always chooses a book on a whim. The cover design, the title, the catchphrase. He chooses one that matches his mood that day.

“Do you like books?”

“I started reading because I was bored on my way to school, and it became a habit.”

“You can even read books with that visual, that’s crazy.”

What does “That’s crazy” mean?

I tried to push him in, but Mizuhara had moved to another shelf.

After staying there for about 20 minutes, Wakamatsu picks up a book and heads to the register.

Perhaps because today was her date, she was holding a novel that was completely focused on romance.

Wakamatsu couldn’t help but chuckle wryly, as if he had visualized the pink color inside his brain.