"People think we're dating," I say.

Senpai gives me a shifty sideways look, no doubt birthing an internal monologue to speculate my intentions and going all the way back to the human condition in typical Senpai fashion.

"You mean, one or two people observed that we hang around each other often and mentioned it to you in passing."

Ugh, bullseye. "You're such a bore," I sigh, flashing my signature pout. As expected, he glares harder instead. "You can afford to react a little more, you know. What would happen to your reputation if people thought you were dating a cute kouhai way out of your league?"

His reply comes in the form of a grunt which suggests that he is very proud of himself for not reacting a little more. "Going by that reasoning, it's you who should be worried. I have much less to lose than you from that kind of rumour."

"Riiiight," I jab back. "You have no social standing to speak of, after all."

The comfortable silence resumes and I wait a full fifteen seconds before speaking up again. After every clump of dialogue there is always a clip of time like this where we internally prepare ourselves for the next one. What exactly are we bracing ourselves for during these lulls in the conversation? Fifteen seconds, lengthy as it feels, is too short for me to find an answer.

"So, I was thinking!" I chirp, injecting as much genuine-sounding cheer into my voice as is humanly possible and earning one of Senpai's trademark tired glares for all my effort. What an ungrateful guy. "And I think I've figured out why Hayama-senpai rejected me the other day!"

"You still aren't over that?" he sighs, with an expression which indicates the desire to be elsewhere in this present moment. Guys probably don't like it when their attractive female kouhai talks to them about other guys, so I suppose I can understand.

But at least I'm trying to start a conversation. Somebody has to do it, y'know. "And, I figured that it was the way I phrased my confession that turned him off!"

Senpai coughs lightly. " Well. I wasn't there so I wouldn't know, but I'm pretty sure he had other reasons."

I blink. Senpai seldom speaks with certainty (unless flaunting his own ideals), so anything that begins with 'I'm pretty sure' can usually be interpreted as fact. "Is that so?"

"Yes," he says, voice dripping with something that sounds like guilt. "He- I'm sure your confession made him happy."

...Is this guy trying to pull my leg?

Just in case he actually is, I show him the most unimpressed expression I can muster. "Should've accepted it, then."

"Yeah, well."

He looks uncomfortable for some reason. Does he still feel responsible for the whole thing happening?

Maybe he has talked to Hayama-senpai about it already.

Right. They're in the same class and all. And boys talk about these kinds of things all the time, don't they? I wouldn't be surprised if they discussed my confession. In full length.

"Oi, Isshiki."

No, no. Senpai's not that kind of person. Hayama-senpai too, of course. Hayama-senpai being a good guy is a given. But I just can't imagine Senpai doing this kind of thing, even though talking behind people's backs is just part of human nature...

"Isshiki?"

...He wouldn't do this kind of thing, right? He's nice to the people he likes. Like the Service Club Senpais. And his little sister.

But what about Isshiki Iroha?

"Isshiki. Hiratsuka-sensei's getting married next week."

The sheer outrageousness of this statement snaps me out of my reverie. "Huh, oh. Congratulations."

"That was a joke. And don't immediately assume it's to me."

"I mean, I figured you would be the only one desperate enough-"

"You're horrible, you know that?"

Like you're one to talk.

"Anyway!" I bring my hands together loudly (in an endearing way, of course. No point if it doesn't look cute). "Like I was saying, help me practice for my next confession, Senpai!"

"You were saying nothing of the sort. And you're trying again? After that spectacular failure?"

"It wasn't a failure!" Repeatedly, I jab his exposed midriff with my gloved index finger and ignore his pathetic yelps. "I mean, maybe it was, but it was all within the boundary of my calculations. Now I just need to make Hayama-senpai fall for me in an even more romantic way!"

"You're doing a great job," Senpai groans, arms wrapped protectively around his sides. "I'll be rooting for you from the sidelines. On an unrelated note, I just remembered I left something in the clubroom, you can go on ahead-"

"Hold it right there!" I yell. His abdomen is completely covered, so I remove my glove and poke the nape of his neck instead, earning an undignified squawk for all my effort. "You said you'd take responsibility for what happened!"

"If I did, I definitely regret it now," he sputters. "And your fingers are freezing! Are those gloves even doing their job?"

"Of course! Aren't they adorable?"

"That's the criteria you use for picking gloves?"

"Don't change the subject, you sly fish."

"You mean fox, right?" he sighs. "Fine, then. What kind of help do you want?"

"Easy!" The sun is setting now, its rays a brilliant hue of red. The courtyard is completely empty save the two of us. It would make for a fairly romantic mood, under different circumstances. "I'll be practising my confession on you right now. All you need to do is stand over there..."

"I see. I guess I have to offer criticism and stuff like that afterward?"

"Uh... no. Just stand there."

He grunts in his usual disagreeable way, but shuffles obediently onto the spot that I have pointed out nonetheless. "How're you gonna improve without feedback?"

"Who said anything about improving? I'm practising."

"...I'm starting to think it wasn't the confession that turned him off per se..."

"Ah, shuddap. Anyway, I'll start!"

Confessions must be sincere, which is why simply being yourself is the best attitude to have: the people who hold this opinion dear have no idea what they are talking about. If people judge the character of others from even the first impression, the impression drawn from a confession must surely be much more significant.

Make sure he faces you, with the setting sun in the background. Stand straight, but not too stiffly. Twist your body like so. Smile slightly and nervously. Ensure that your face is red. Inhale deeply to show him just how much this means to you, but not too deeply. When you have his full attention, clasp your hands together and, with a bashful yet resolute voice, say these exact words-

"Wait, Isshiki. Before you start-"

"I started a long time ago! You weren't watching?"

He blinks, genuinely confused. "But you haven't said anything yet."

Unbelievable.

"Anyway," he says, "Your cutesy gloves are pissing me off. Do something about them, will you?"

Wow, rude. "And why do I have to cater to your preferences?"

"You never know," he replies, somewhat smugly. "Maybe Hayama dislikes flashy designs. You have to adapt to his tastes, right?"

He's enjoying this, this jerk. Acting all high and mighty and pretending to know it all just because he's Hayama-senpai's classmate. "Well, your gloves look boring enough," I retort. "Why don't you lend them to me, then?"

Surprisingly, he hands them over with little complaint.

The sun's rays are beginning to recede; thanks to that digression, the perfect romantic mood is already fading back to whence it came. As I tug on Senpai's ridiculously woolly gloves, a niggling thought scratches at the back of my mind: maybe all this effort isn't worth it after all.

Nevertheless, I have to try.

Setting sun, check... barely. Appropriate body language, check. Now all that's left is the perfect expression, that of a maiden in love, and then...

"Hayama-senpai! I know that you had your own reasons for rejecting me the last time, but-"

"That's an out, y'know."

Aaaand... ruined. "At least let me finish! You didn't even let me start!"

Senpai sighs. I'm not too sure if the disappointment on his face is genuine or not, which irks me even more. "That way of confessing was wrong from the start."

"Besides, you're not supposed to talk. I did tell you to just stand there, right?"

"Hayama's not going to just stand there if he doesn't like your confession, right? He'll reject you outright. I'm helping you out here."

As irritating as this situation is, it certainly beats awkward silence. "Alright, then. What does this veteran suggest?"

"Something direct," Senpai says after a few seconds of musing. "Short and snappy. I'm sure Hayama has girls confessing to him every other day. He'll appreciate it if you are considerate of his precious time."

There is a kind of messed-up quality to his thoughts regardless of how constructive he tries to be with them. "But that's exactly why I have to be the special one who-"

"That's what all of them are thinking too. Get ahead of the curve, Isshiki."

The sun has concealed itself behind the clouds and the romantic mood is now a thing of the past, but I have to get this confession right at the very least. If even this sleazebag doesn't accept it, how can I expect Hayama-senpai to?

"Um, Hayama-senpai! I was thinking that I'd like to know you more, and-"

"Nope. Shorter."

"I think we've known each other for quite a while and-"

"Not untrue, but you're sounding really presumptuous."

"I would like to date with marriage in mind, but if you're not fine with that-"

"What are you, an old man? Get to the point already."

I can feel a headache coming on. In an attempt to dispel the impending pain I march over the partially frozen cobblestone and give Senpai's left shin a swift kick. A very un-Senpai-like screech assaults my eardrums.

"You're just being plain unreasonable!" I snap before he has the chance to squawk at me. "There is nothing wrong with any of the statements I made!"

"While that may be true," he groans, "they aren't what you want to say, are they? Come on. Just do this right once and we can go home."

Does he even know how hard this is? I can feel my breaths getting shallower with frustration. "Fine then. I'll say everything I want to say, right here and right now!"

"That's the spirit. Seven words or less, please."

Kicking his injured shin again seems to be too cruel a punishment, so out of the kindness of my heart I kick his right shin instead.

"I like you," I say over his whimpers. "Go out with me."

"That's good," he wheezes, bent double and clutching his legs. "That wasn't so hard, was it? If you confess quickly, Hayama can reject you quickly."

"...So I'm getting rejected either way?"

I consider gracing him with a third kick, but there's something about that crude statement of his that hits too close to home. Suddenly I feel exhausted. What was the point of all this, anyway? Wordlessly, I trudge towards the main gate, and he joins me with bicycle in tow.

"Er. Are you angry?"

"Just tired," I reply. Thin ice crackles beneath my feet. "Confessions really aren't what they're made out to be."

"Good thing you realised," he chuckles. Though since this is Senpai the chuckle sounds more like a sneer; it takes true discernment to tell the difference. "I thought that one just now was pretty good, though. It sounded like you were being honest with yourself."

If he is trying to cheer me up, he is doing a terrible job. "You make me sound like a sadist."

"Well..."

"Shut up."

Upon reaching the gate I chuck his stupid-looking gloves at him and head off toward the station without looking back-

"Oi, Isshiki."

Senpai starting a conversation is certainly a rare event, but I'm really not in the mood for conversing. Without sparing him a glance, I-

"Isshiki."

Reluctantly, I turn to face him. For some reason the sun has decided to reveal itself again now of all times, its rays painting the frozen sidewalks with a pretty orange tinge. Effectively, the romantic mood that I spent so much effort to achieve just prior to this has restored itself.

This setting is completely useless now. As much as one may manipulate and scheme, I realise with a jolt, it is ultimately the people involved that make a confession work.

"Same time tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah."

The sting of cold assaults my hands a mere five steps after I don my own gloves, and it is then that I realise how warm my hands have been.