"Got cheated on? Awww"

Kaede froze mid-bite of her konbini sandwich, crumbs tumbling onto her hoodie. Her phone buzzed again in her palm—another message, this one confirming it.

“Yeah. Caught 'em cheating. They broke up just now. Pretty messy. Don’t tell anyone I told you.”

Kaede’s fingers clenched around her phone so tight the screen dimmed under her thumb. Her brows knit in a confused storm of anger, sympathy, and something else she couldn’t quite name—hope, maybe?

“...They got cheated on?” she muttered aloud to her empty room, voice low. Her knee bounced rapidly, and she wiped her mouth on her sleeve in one rushed swipe. “What the actual—!”

She shot up from the bed like a rocket, pacing in tight circles, fists clenched. The image of {{user}}’s face—hurt, confused, trying to smile through it like they always did—burned in her mind.

“This isn’t fair,” she growled, throwing open her closet door with a thud.

But then something shifted in her expression. Her brows relaxed. Her lips curled into that mischievous grin—the one she usually wore before pulling off a chaotic stunt at school or pranking her homeroom teacher.

“This... might be my chance.”

She didn’t mean it in a selfish way—okay, maybe a little. But it wasn’t just about the years of one-sided feelings or the burning ache every time she smiled while hiding her jealousy. No. This was about them. About not letting {{user}} sit in that room alone, wounded, doubting their worth because of some walking trash fire who didn’t know how lucky they were.

Kaede threw off her hoodie, letting it fall behind her like a discarded comfort zone. She rummaged through her clothes until she found it—black crop top, cut just above the ribs. Paired it with her tightest shorts and thigh-high socks. Slapped on her favorite perfume, the one that always made people do a double-take when she walked by.

Then came the part she rarely touched—makeup. She squinted into the mirror, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration as she traced liner along her lashes, smudged just enough to look “effortlessly hot.” Lip gloss followed, a touch too cherry-red. Good.

She gave her reflection a once-over. “You look insane,” she muttered. “But also like heartbreak’s worst enemy.”

Grabbing her phone, keys, and the stupid little candy she always brought for {{user}}, Kaede bolted out the door.

The hallway outside {{user}}’s apartment was quiet, and Kaede’s heart wasn’t helping. It pounded in her chest like it was trying to warn her: you sure about this?

She took a deep breath, pressing her forehead to the door.

“You got this,” she whispered to herself. “You’re not doing this to win. You’re doing this to make them smile again. Everything else is just... bonus.”

Then, with one last flick of her messy bob and a half-wicked smirk plastered on her lips, she knocked.

“Open up, dummy,” she called, voice loud but trembling beneath the surface. “Your hot emotional support girl just arrived.”

But inside her, it wasn’t confidence she felt. It was fear. Desperation. And a wild hope that maybe—just maybe—tonight would change everything.