“Nao and Souta, please come forward.”

  The moment those words echoed across the small theatre stage, I swear I heard a plate shatter somewhere in the distance, though there were no plates to be found. Don’t get me wrong; I was absolutely terrified. But what scared me even more was when I looked over at her.

  Nao was frozen.

  “Oh shit…” I murmured.

  We’re talking dead still. Like a deer caught in headlights… If that deer was also sweating profusely and mumbling, “Oh no, I’m gonna die on this stage,” under her breath.

  If she’s gonna die, what about me?!

  She slowly turned to me, gripping the script in her hands like it was a holy relic.

  “M-Maid-chan…” she whispered.

  I blinked. “Yes, your majesty?”

  “I think I’m gonna faint, fart, and sneeze at the same time…”

  “…That’s talent, honestly,” I replied with a smile.

  She wasn’t even pretending to be calm. Her knees were wobbling, eyes darting as if scanning for the nearest emergency exit. The girl who normally charged through conversations like a puppy high on sugar now looked like she was about to combust on stage.

  So I did the only thing I could think of in that moment.

  I offered her my hand.

  “C’mon, Nao. I’m already dressed like a prince. All you gotta do is be my princess.”

  She stared at my hand for a second. Then, slowly, she took it. I tugged her onto the stage, ignoring the bright lights, the whispers, and the fact that forty sets of eyes were staring right at us. And more importantly, I ignored the three laser beams of emotional damage drilling into my soul from backstage.

  I could feel them.

  I glanced sideways toward the curtains.

  Arisa, arms folded, biting her lip hard, the kind of bite you give when you’re trying to keep yourself from screaming. Reina, peeking over her script, her mouth ever so slightly downturned.

  Oh, great.

  Just another peaceful day in the life of your favourite human punching bag, me. They’re gonna kick my ass after this performance. We moved to the centre of the stage, the lights warming our skin. Nao was still visibly shaking, but at least she hadn’t bolted off screaming. Progress. I continued to look out into the crowd, the thought of this many people judging us making my stomach twist. Almost every guy (including Shinji) was likely calling me names I couldn’t repeat here. But, eventually, I ignored the fact that I might die at the hands of a group of hormonal teenagers when the teacher gave us a nod.

  “Begin when ready.”

  The scene was simple.

  Princess trapped in a tower, prince arrives, some emotional back-and-forth, the usual magical anime sparkles... And of course, the kiss.

  Like they couldn’t have chosen a different scene. Maybe we just say hello?

  Nao peeked at me nervously. I gave her a subtle nod. That was all she needed. She stepped forward and opened her mouth.

  “I… I am not going to fall in love with someone just because he saved me!”

  The first line.

  Nailed it.

  I smirked, stepping closer. “And yet, here I am… risking everything to be here with you.”

  A small gasp rippled through the crowd. Whether it was from our acting or the unexpected spark between us, I wasn’t sure, but I definitely wasn’t complaining. Nao glanced at the audience, her cheeks turning pink as she tried so hard not to break character.

  “You’re so reckless, Maid-Cha-I mean, Sir Knight!”

  Some students snorted from the front row, and I had to suppress a laugh myself.

  “Maybe,” I said softly. “But I’d rather be reckless for you than safe without you.”

  Her breath hitched, eyes wide. The moment settled. For a second, Nao wasn’t just playing the part.

  She was living it.

  She stepped forward, trembling slightly, and I met her halfway. My heart pounded in my chest like a festival drum. I could see the shimmer of nerves in her eyes, but also something else, something fragile and real.

  And then…

  We leaned in.

  The world seemed to slow around us as Nao's face drew closer to mine. Her eyelids fluttered closed, pink lips gently forming into a delicate pout that made my stomach drop like I’d missed a step on a staircase. Each millimetre between us evaporated like morning dew, the distance shrinking until I swore I could feel the electricity dancing between our skin. Behind me, I could practically sense the other girls disintegrating into silent chaos, their collective horror almost a tangible force at my back.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  My own eyes drifted shut, but not completely, just enough to witness the impossible closeness between us, to see the soft flutter of her eyelashes, count each freckle dusting her nose. Her breath was warm against my lips, sweet and trembling. Oh god, what is the teacher thinking? Call it already! My mind screamed in panic as Nao's ruby lips hovered just a whisper away from mine. Not a full kiss. Just a breath apart. Close enough that even the audience collectively inhaled, the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Her perfume enveloped me, making my head swim with dangerous possibilities.

  As we leaned in closer, I-

  The teacher coughed loudly.

  “Very good, NEXT!”

  A wave of relief washed over me. Nao immediately turned, hands cupped over her face, whispering, “Oh my God, I almost died! I almost DIED!” She scampered off stage like she was escaping a war zone. Just before I followed Nao, I glanced toward the audience. The teacher was nodding, visibly impressed. The students were whispering. I couldn’t catch all of it, but I heard bits:

  “They were… kind of good, right?” “I thought he was just a loser maid?”

  “Nao can act?”

  Even from backstage, I could hear Arisa scoff loudly.

  And I didn’t need to look to know that Reina had lowered her head just a little. Even Shiori had her arms crossed tighter than before, the script rolled up like a scroll, ready for combat.

  This wasn’t just an audition anymore.

  It was war.

  And I had somehow been drafted into the frontlines without Armour.

  God help me.

  I stepped back in, which, in theory, was pretty pointless because it felt like mere seconds had slipped by.

  “Next… Reina and Souta, please make your way to the stage.”

  “Not even giving me a second to recoup my thoughts… jerk.”

  The teacher’s voice echoed through the small theatre, and instantly, a hush fell backstage. This time, just before stepping onto the stage again, I took a glance at Reina. She’d been quiet this whole time, not a word, not a complaint. She had sat on a small wooden stool earlier, thumbing the edge of her script so gently it was as if she didn’t want to bother it.

  Now she stood.

  For a fleeting moment, I saw her hands tremble as she held the paper. Her mouth was a thin line as she made her way to me, her eyes darting once, not to the audience, not to the teacher, but to me.

  Like she needed permission.

  “…You ready?” I asked softly, stepping toward her.

  She nodded. No smile. Just a tiny breath through her nose as if bracing herself.

  We walked out onto the stage. The lights dimmed. The audience quieted.

  From behind the curtain, I could feel the gaze of the others, Arisa biting her lip again, Nao watching intently. And Shiori… Arms folded, unreadable. The crowd buzzed with whispers.

  “She’s always so quiet… can she even act?”

  “I didn’t think she’d audition…”

  “Wait, is she the silver-haired one?”

  They didn’t know.

  No one did.

  And honestly… I didn’t either.

  The scene started. The teacher’s voice rang out, “Page six. The princess confronts the prince, lost in grief and silence.”

  Reina stood centre stage, the paper in her hand lowering… And she didn’t speak.

  She looked down.

  Five seconds passed.

  Ten.

  Was she frozen?

  Then...

  “…Why didn’t you come back for me?”

  Her voice was barely above a whisper, soft like falling snow.

  And yet, the whole room went silent.

  Not because they couldn’t hear her.

  But because they leaned in to listen.

  I followed the script. My line. “I tried. I never stopped trying.”

  She stepped forward, each movement fragile yet deliberate, like shattered glass being pieced back together.

  “No. You forgot me. You left me in the tower. With nothing but time and a broken heart.” Her voice cracked on the final word, the raw emotion spilling into the silent theatre. She was shaking now, trembling like a leaf in autumn’s dying breath.

  But she didn’t falter.

  “I waited. Every day. Every hour. Watching the sun set behind those iron bars. Do you know what it’s like…” Her voice dropped to a whisper that somehow reached every corner of the room, “…to be forgotten?”

  I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat that threatened to choke me.

  She’s not just doing it. She’s living it.

  This wasn’t Reina reading lines.

  This was Reina tearing open her soul on stage, bleeding emotions that felt too real, too personal.

  I answered, my voice catching, barely squeezing the words past the tightness in my chest, “I never forgot. Not once.”

  She stopped, centre stage. Her eyes lifted to mine, an ocean of unspoken feelings swirling in their depths. And then, the final line of the scene, delivered so softly it felt like a confession only meant for me.

  “…Then prove it.”

  She stared at me, her gaze piercing straight through to my core.

  Unmoving.

  Breathless.

  Waiting.

  Right.

  The kiss.

  It was part of the scene, a gentle stage kiss. Not real, not forced. But my God, my heart wasn’t just pounding; it was threatening to burst from my chest, hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape, to leap across the stage and into her trembling hands. I moved closer, drawn by something beyond the script, beyond the performance. She didn’t back away. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t breathe. We were inches apart now. I could count every eyelash, trace the delicate curve of her cheekbone, and see the gentle flush spreading across her skin like watercolour on parchment. Her lips, slightly parted, trembled with each shallow breath, the pink softness beckoning me forward as if pulled by gravity itself.

  The audience gasped, the collective intake of breath like a sudden gust of wind. A few girls clutched each other’s arms, knuckles white, eyes wide.

  Even from the wings, I could hear the reactions rippling through the air like thunder after lightning.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” Arisa murmured, her voice tight.

  Reina closed her eyes, dark lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks, surrendering to the moment with a trust that made my heart stutter painfully. I leaned forward, my breath mingling with hers, the space between us charged with electricity. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin, to smell the faint scent of vanilla that clung to her hair, to sense the tremor that ran through her body. The world beyond the stage dissolved into nothingness, leaving only us suspended in this fragile, perfect moment. And just like that, the scene ended. The lights slowly lifted, breaking the spell. No kiss. But the tension, the anticipation, the almost-touch had been so powerful that the entire world believed it happened.

  Applause rippled through the audience.

  Real, scattered, confused applause. Not the enthusiastic roar of Nao's performance. But something more haunting. More profound. Like witnessing something too intimate, too raw to properly acknowledge.

  She bowed. Quietly. Gracefully. Before she turned to walk off, her shoulders were slightly hunched as if protecting something fragile within her chest.

  But just before exiting the stage, she glanced sideways at me, a fleeting look that lasted barely a heartbeat.

  Just one look.

  And in that moment, realisation crashed over me like an icy wave, stealing my breath, freezing my blood.

  She wasn't playing the role of a forgotten princess.

  She was just... Being herself.

  And for the first time in this trip, I didn’t know what to say.

  We walked back then before I could even get a break.

  “Next: Arisa and Souta. Please take the stage.”

  Motherfu-…

  DeadEndYuto!