I Ended Up Cross-Dressing, My Secret Relationship with a Handsome Guy (BL) - Chapter 23

Thanks to all the promotion, our class was busier than ever, and we were running out of food much faster than expected. Right now, our assistant homeroom teacher had gone out with a couple of students, clutching a list of supplies to restock. Meanwhile, the rest of us kept the café running.

But with how busy things were, there was no chance of taking breaks exactly as scheduled. By the time I was finally able to step away, I was already an hour past my designated break time.

Since the neighboring classroom had been turned into a storage and break area, I headed there, pulled out a chair, and let out a deep, exhausted sigh.

“…I’m so tired.”

There was no denying that I was having fun—more fun than I could put into words. But I had no stamina. To be honest, I was surviving on sheer determination at this point. Still, once my break was over, I’d have to go right back to serving customers. I needed to make the most of this time.

Should I take a nap? Or maybe eat something to keep my energy up?

That was when I suddenly remembered—someone had mentioned earlier that they would share recommendations if they found a good place to eat.

The school festival was always a huge event. Some classes, like ours, ran food stalls, while others built haunted houses, and some even set up festival-style booths outside. Meanwhile, the gymnasium hosted live band performances, a fashion show by the design club, and stage productions by the drama and orchestra clubs. There was no shortage of entertainment.

Last year, I hadn’t gone to a single event. I just did my assigned tasks behind the scenes and waited for the festival to be over.

Who would have thought, just a year later, I’d be in this situation?

“Alright… my phone…”

I stood up slowly and pulled my phone from my bag.

I had expected to see a flood of group chat notifications.

And I wasn’t wrong—there were plenty, enough that scrolling back would be a hassle.

But that wasn’t what caught my attention.

My fingers froze as I stared at the screen, at an all-too-familiar profile icon.

“…Why…?”

The noise around me faded into silence.

The icon was an old-fashioned globe, the kind with an oddly antique feel.

I could still remember the moment I had asked, “Why that?” and the way he had shrugged and said, “I just didn’t want to use my face.”

Kiryu had messaged me.

Not in the group chat.

Directly.

Several times.

A voice inside me—the rational one—told me not to read them. I knew that was the right choice. I was in the middle of trying to forget him.

That’s why, since yesterday, I had been avoiding looking at him. I had forced myself not to listen to his voice. I had done everything I could to erase Kiryu from my mind.

Because his presence in my life was still too big.

But another voice in my head argued: What if it’s important?

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe the messages were completely trivial. Maybe he had even sent them to me by mistake.

And besides, ignoring him outright would be rude.

Grasping at those flimsy justifications, I hesitantly tapped on the chat.

—

Kiryu:
“Yukiho, have you taken your break yet?”
“Sorry, you seem really busy. Are you okay?”
“Let me know when you’re on break.”
“I want to see you.”
“I’m waiting on the rooftop.”

—

My breath caught in my throat.

The last message had been sent thirty minutes ago.

The first had arrived right at the start of my scheduled break time.

My rational mind screamed at me not to go.

I already knew I shouldn’t.

And yet, before I realized it, I was already out of the classroom.

I weaved through the crowded hallways, careful not to bump into students and guests. Voices filled the air—vendors calling out to customers, friends chatting, the broadcasting club announcing lost items, the occasional scream from a haunted house. A chaotic mix of sounds surrounded me, but I had only one destination in mind.

What was I expecting to happen?

Probably nothing.

I already knew that.

And yet, the moment I broke free from the dense crowd, I started running.

The hem of my kimono flapped behind me. The hakama, which had been chosen for ease of movement, still felt restrictive when sprinting.

Thanks to my contacts, my vision was clear. I could see the path ahead.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I pushed forward despite the burning in my lungs. My chest tightened as I reached the heavy rooftop door.

I yanked it open, and the old, rusted hinges groaned in protest.

The sound blended with my ragged breathing, creating an unpleasant dissonance that echoed across the empty rooftop.

“…Hah… I’m… exhausted.”

It was already November. The chilly air kept me from sweating, but the fatigue hit me all the same.

I took a few steps forward before collapsing onto the ground.

Now that I thought about it, there had been no need to run.

And yet, I had sprinted here, desperate to reach him as soon as possible.

Because, after all, I still loved him.

“…Could you not look at me like I’m some kind of ghost?”

His outfit, designed to be eye-catching, was entirely black. At first glance, it resembled a suit, but the draped cloak and overall silhouette gave it a stylish Taisho-era aesthetic.

And, of course, Kiryu wore it effortlessly.

But his expression was uncertain, his gaze flickering with hesitation, like a lost child.

“…I honestly didn’t think you’d come.”

“You’re the one who called me.”

“Yeah, but…”

For once, Kiryu was at a loss for words.

He approached me slowly, cautiously, like a wary animal.

Then, once he was close enough, he crouched down to meet my gaze.

“…Your cheeks are red.”

“I ran here.”

“…Cute.”

“That’s thanks to everyone’s hard work.”

“…I want to make up with you, Yukiho.”

I couldn’t say anything in response to his barely audible words.

Kiryu lowered his gaze, as if the silence was unbearable.

Now that I thought about it, this was the first time I had ever seen him avoid making eye contact in a conversation.

I had always believed that not looking someone in the eye was a sign of insecurity, of unease—of inner turmoil. If that were true, then Kiryu was feeling anxious about me.

Until I left the classroom, until I reached the rooftop, I had no idea what I would do when I saw him. I had been uncertain and afraid.

And yet, strangely enough, now that I was here, I felt calm.

Maybe it was because Kiryu was carrying a far heavier weight on his shoulders than I was.

I had a few choices.

I already had a vague idea of which one I should make.

But for the first time, I was thinking clearly.

I was done being a toy.

I was making my decision for myself.

As I reached out my hand, Kiryu, who had been on the verge of tears just moments ago, suddenly lifted his head. His eyes flickered with hesitation the moment they met mine, as if he were lost once again.

“Kiryu.”

From beyond the fence, from the open classroom windows, from the direction of the gymnasium—sounds of joy filled the air. The energy of the festival surrounded us, and somehow, it felt like it was pushing me forward.

“I love you, Kiryu.”

Kiryu’s eyes widened as he slowly processed my words.

He stared at me, as if seeing something utterly unbelievable.

Of all people, Kiryu probably understood me better than anyone in this school.

He knew that I wasn’t the type to say something like this as a joke.

“That’s why… I can’t make up with you.”

His expression didn’t change.

Confusion, uncertainty—an inability to find the right words.

All of it was written on his face.

“…Goodbye.”

I stood up and pushed open the heavy rooftop door.

As it closed behind me with a dull, final thud, I realized.

This was the moment I had woken up from my dream.