16: Yokan

                                    

                                          
I delivered it. That should be enough, right?
                          
My breathing hitched in my throat as I recalled setting a note inside Hayate's shoe locker this morning. I rapidly shook my head to rid the memory.
                          
Why did it feel like I gave the guy a love letter or something?
                          
It was more of a simple apology note with a detailed explanation of the club, this time much more coherent than the ramble I'd given last time. I'd even attached a question at the bottom with two little boxes reading: Will you join my club? Check yes or no.
                          
After conversing with Miko and Koyuki on Sunday (the latter giving me a whopping twenty-seven minute speech on how he'd "told me so"), they suggested I go for this kind of approach. It seemed the easiest on Hayate's fragile heart, considering it made things a lot less confrontational. 
                          
That, and it was a well-known fact that my body worked before my mind could. If I cornered him in person, I'd probably get too close again and make him uncomfortable. Spitballing misleading enough lines that even Koyuki would blush to seemed plausible as well. All resulting in a not so pleasurable fainting episode for the second time.
                          
With this note I wouldn't have to hurt him, and depending on his answer, I could either rejoice or be left with the task of finding another student to join.
                          
So, logically speaking, this was the best approach.
                          
Personally speaking, however, I utterly hated it.
                          
"Stop fidgeting so much," Koyuki commanded once lunch break began.
                          
"Can't. The anticipation's killing me." I clasped at strands of my bangs and sunk further into my seat. "I want to see him. Like, right this second. Like, really, really badly."
                          
"Kotori," Miko called from her seat, an amused smile in tow. "You sound like you're in love."
                          
"What do you expect?" I returned, extending my lower lip. "I delivered my very first 'I-want-to-be-loved' letter today. I'd rather confess in person than wait in anguish for his response."
                          
"Do you say this stuff intentionally knowing that you're being misleading?" Koyuki questioned from where he was standing.
                          
I shook my head. "Apology letter or not, a girl putting a letter in a guy's shoe locker is the epitome of being intimate. I might as well have skipped our montage of falling in love and awkward almost-kisses during the school year and jumped straight into marriage."
                          
"Kotori, it's just an apology letter," Miko giggled.
                          
I dug into my desk and surfaced two volumes of my favourite manga. Then used it to shield my mouth.
                          
"Jasper's apology letter ended up in an arranged marriage between him and Princess Hanna."
                          
Koyuki face-palmed. "You and your no-name manga."
                          
"Hey," I said, lowering it to reveal my pout. "I will not tolerate anyone slandering Royal Sweets, aka my favourite manga series of all time."
                          
"It's about baking, right?" Miko asked.
                          
I eagerly bobbed my head and flipped it open to show her. Her eyes glazed over the comic's beautifully drawn in desserts. She grinned before long.
                          
"Wow, the artist's pretty good."
                          
"Seriously in another league," I agreed. "Just look at those tasty shortcakes, soufflés, truffles... macaroons..."
                          
"Kotori, you're drooling."
                          
Snapping from my daze, I used the back of my hand to wipe off the saliva currently dribbling down my chin.
                          
"By the way," she continued, "you didn't make anything for Gouda this morning?"