Path of the Extra

“I had a hunch after seeing you eat apples all these years, but… anything related to apples will do, huh? You really love apples, don’t you?”

“…Got a problem?”

“Nope! I’m just happy I got to know you better!”

Leo glanced up from the table.

“You’re a little too easy to make happy, you know.”

They sat in a café, Lea across from him, their order freshly delivered. In front of Leo was a steaming apple pie. In front of Lea sat a neat piece of strawberry cake.

Beside Leo on the couch was a shopping bag with the gift inside—wrapped neatly after Lea helped him pick it out. Next to it was a brand-new umbrella Leo had bought for the walk home. Lea had finally fulfilled the last condition for his help with the end-of-year festival.

Lea was smiling from ear to ear, swaying side to side like an excited little kid. They were kids, technically—but Leo, who liked to act older than his age, couldn’t imagine himself doing something like that.

“Ah!”

She suddenly stopped, staring at her cake with the kind of reverence a child gave a prized treasure—like she didn’t want to ruin it by taking the first bite. Then she placed both hands on the table and leaned forward, her expression becoming concerned, almost nervous.

“Are you sure this is all you want? If you want more, just say so… I’ve got the money!”

Leo was already cutting into his pie. Without thinking, he lifted the knife and pointed it at her.

Lea flinched and leaned back hard into the booth.

“You shouldn’t throw your money around so easily,” Leo said. “And rein in that attitude of yours. No wonder you’ve given so many guys the wrong impression.”

“I’m only willing to throw my money away because of you!” Lea shot back—then her voice trailed off, turning smaller.

“A-and… I guess I can’t really argue with the rest…”

She looked back at her cake like it could cheer her up.

Leo’s lips twitched.

She did it again.

’If I’m remembering right, Nathan has a crush on her… though that idiot has a crush on every pretty girl he sees.’

“I don’t want more,” Leo said. “This is fine. But thanks for the offer.”

He took a bite.

The flavors burst across his tongue—warm apple, cinnamon, buttery crust—and, without meaning to, his face relaxed.

Then he noticed Lea staring at him.

Leo swallowed and frowned.

“What?”

Lea blinked, as if she’d been caught zoning out, and shook her head quickly.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just… you really do love anything apple-related, huh?”

“Didn’t you already say that? Do you have dementia? Are you sure you’re ranked second in our school? Did you cheat?”

“Hey! Don’t bring up my ranking!” Lea snapped.

“You know how frustrating it is to be stuck in second place for years because of you!”

Leo shrugged.

“It’s not like I’ve ever sabotaged you. If anything, I’d welcome someone smart enough to challenge me. It gets kind of dull after a while.”

Lea’s expression twisted into pure disgust.

“You have way too big of an ego! You act way too nonchalant, your tongue is basically poison, and you’re unbelievably cringe!”

Leo smiled, amused.

“You seem a bit angry. Are you going to explain why you repeated yourself?”

Her disgust faded. She sighed, crossed her arms, and looked back at her cake.

“…When you eat something you actually enjoy… you get this little smile. And it seems like you don’t even notice you do it.”

Leo tilted his head.

’I smile when I eat apple pie?’

That was something he didn’t know.

“…Maybe,” he admitted.

“Still, you’re creepy for watching me that closely.”

A pout formed instantly on Lea’s lips.

“Well, excuse me for trying to solve the mystery known as Leo Karumi.”

“I’m not some puzzle.”

“You are to me.”

Leo sighed and took another bite. Lea finally did the same with her cake.

“…You’re a weirdo,” both of them muttered at nearly the same time—quiet enough that neither heard the other.

After swallowing, Leo spoke again.

“We should talk about the end-of-year festival.”

Lea straightened. She nodded.

“I said I’d help and actively participate,” Leo continued, “but that doesn’t mean I’m carrying the entire festival on my back. Your goal is ’creating precious memories,’ right? It wouldn’t be much of a win for you if all anyone remembers is how much better I am than everyone else.”

“…That’s true,” Lea admitted, lips pressing together.

“Though you could’ve said it more gently.”

She shook her head, thinking.

“I wasn’t going to let you do that anyway. At most, I wanted you involved in one activity—one event or booth.”

Lea pinched her chin and stared at her cake as if it held answers.

“But it can’t be the theatre. If I think about it now… the gap between your acting and everyone else’s is too big. It would throw the whole play off and ruin the quality. And a solo performance… sure, it would be memorable. But it would also be the only thing people talked about. It would overshadow everyone else by miles. That would be miserable for them.”

Leo stayed silent and let her talk.

Lea was realizing, piece by piece, what he couldn’t do if the goal was really to create good memories for everyone. With someone like Leo—good at everything—too many things would turn into a comparison, and that comparison would poison the fun.

Of course, Lea assumed Leo wouldn’t intentionally hold back.

That wasn’t true.

Leo didn’t care enough to show off. If he had to play worse or act worse, he would. The festival didn’t mean much to him. He was only curious—selfishly curious, even.

He doubted his parents would come anyway. They’d be too busy with work. And he didn’t need to impress these people.

But Lea didn’t know that, and Leo didn’t feel like telling her.

He wanted to see where her mind went.

“…Can I assign you your role next week?” she asked at last.

She looked up with a hesitant expression, clearly struggling to find the right answer—something that would let Leo participate without ruining the balance. She’d wanted him to make the festival better, but she hadn’t thought far enough ahead to realize that his “better” might come at everyone else’s expense.

Now she looked like she was thinking she’d just ruined everything—like she’d talked him out of helping them.

She avoided his eyes.

But—

“Sure,” Leo said.

“Take your time. Come up with something.”

“…!”

Lea’s eyes widened. She stared at him in disbelief while Leo simply kept eating his apple pie.

“Th… thank you,” she said softly.

A small, content smile settled on her lips. And this time, she finally started eating her cake properly too.

As Leo chewed his apple pie, taking his time to swallow and actually appreciate the taste, his gaze drifted around the café.

By the time they’d entered, both of their clothes had dried enough to not leave a trail behind—mostly thanks to the mall being indoors, with heating and those big air-dryers by the entrances. They were seated near a glass wall, and from there Leo could see people filtering through the mall: stepping into shops, shaking water out of their sleeves, wiping their hair, huddling under coats.

“Hey, Leo… can I ask you something a bit more personal?”

“Hm?”

He turned his head. Lea looked back at him with a hesitant expression.

“Why?”

“Well…” She scratched her cheek, suddenly awkward. “You’re surprisingly not that difficult to deal with today, so I don’t want to waste the opportunity and… use this chance to satisfy some of my own selfish curiosity.”

Leo wasn’t particularly annoyed, and he wasn’t in a bad mood—he was enjoying his pie. So he decided to be merciful and nodded.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“But it’s up to my discretion whether I answer or not.”

“That’s fair.”

Lea took another bite of her cake and savored it, swallowing slowly. She let out a small sigh, then looked at Leo again—serious this time—while he continued eating.

“…Why do you always act like you hate everyone around you?”

“…”

Leo just stared at her.

“Whenever someone tries to approach you, you push them away immediately. You look down on them, act like you hate them… and you intentionally make them hate you too. Right? Why do you do that?”

“Because I simply don’t like them? I don’t understand what kind of answer you’re looking for.”

“I’d believe you, but I’ve watched my rival for years, and I think you’re lying.”

’Rival? So she sees me as a rival, huh…’

Unfortunately for her, the feeling wasn’t mutual. Leo didn’t see anyone in his school as a rival.

“Then why do you think that?” he asked.

Lea hesitated for only a second.

“…Because I think you’re much kinder than you want people to believe.”

“Hahaha!” Leo couldn’t help laughing, looking genuinely amused.

“And why is that?”

Her face darkened at his reaction, but she didn’t back down. She leaned forward, like she could talk sense into him if she just tried hard enough.

“Because—just like today—there have been other times I’ve seen you act much kinder than you pretend to be. Why would someone who wants everyone to believe he hates people… suddenly do that? If I hadn’t seen it myself—I might’ve believed you when you say you just don’t like anyone. But that’s not true. I just… don’t understand why you act like this.”

Leo narrowed his eyes, suspicion sliding into his expression.

“You know, that girl who confessed to me today said I was kind too. Am I being paranoid, or did you have something to do with that?”

Instead of denying it, Lea doubled down.

“Yes,” she said.

“That was because of me, actually…”

Leo didn’t look pleased.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been spreading rumors about me being some kind of saint.”

Lea shook her head hard.

“Of course not! I’m not that crazy!”

“So you admit you’re a little crazy.”

“No! Ugh…!”

Embarrassed, Lea covered her face with both hands. Her voice dropped into a mutter—quiet, but still loud enough for Leo to hear.

“It’s just… whenever someone talks to me about you and your ’evil prince’ persona, I tell them not to blindly believe the rumors,” she admitted. “And I… I counter it by saying I think you’re a kind person, based on what I’ve seen.”

Then she looked up, face red, still clearly mortified—and raised her voice defensively.

“So it’s not like I’m some obsessed freak running around school telling everyone you’re a saint, okay?!”

“…Sure,” Leo said.

“I believe you.”

“You totally don’t!” Lea snapped.

“Your face says it all!”

Leo scratched his cheek, genuinely confused.

“I mean… it’s already weird that you’re so adamant about me being kind,” he said. “And you’re so persistent—so… bothersome. Don’t tell me you’re in love with me.”

“Like hell!”

She slammed both hands on the table, rattling the cutlery.

“Just because I show interest in you doesn’t mean it’s love!”

It seemed she’d spoken too loudly. A few people nearby glanced over, smiling and chuckling like they’d just witnessed something cute.

“…Ugh.”

Lea’s face turned even redder. She lowered her head, humiliated.

“Just answer my question,” she muttered, still looking down.

’Why do I always act like I hate everyone around me…?’

Leo’s gaze drifted to his plate—and he realized it was empty. He’d finished without noticing.

That alone made him feel a little sad.

“Well…” he said slowly.

“I don’t know if I can answer that.”

Lea lifted her eyes without raising her head.

“Why?”

Leo kept staring at the empty plate, debating whether eating the remaining crumbs would make him look pathetic.

“Because I don’t know the answer myself.”

And honestly…

’There’s just something terribly wrong with me.’

For a moment, silence settled between them. Leo, lost in his thoughts, didn’t notice Lea’s expression—and Lea didn’t speak.

Then Leo looked up sharply and said, completely serious:

“I want more apple pie.”

“Eh?”

Lea blinked, baffled—then her mouth twitched into a wry smile, and she let out a light laugh.

“Well, I did promise.”

Leo tried to hide his satisfaction, and Lea was about to gesture for a waiter—

When a familiar voice called out, full of surprise.

“Leo?”

The moment he heard it, Leo froze. His blood seemed to turn to ice.

A second later, he turned his head, eyes widening.

“M-mom…? Lia?”