Chapter Text
Ding.
There it was again – the most annoying sound in the world, capable of driving even the most hardened of individuals to tears... and surely to the brink of insanity, as well.
It was infinitely worse than an alarm clock going off in the morning. Far more terrible than nails on a chalkboard. So hair-raisingly, toe-curlingly, nerve-wrackingly awful, in fact, that Kashima's pitiful attempts at singing had become music to Sakura's ears in comparison – a feat previously thought to be so impossible it made her head spin.
And it just... wouldn't... stop.
Ding.
Sakura took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm her frazzled nerves. She loosened the vice-like grip on the brush she was holding and very meticulously continued working, careful to stay within the lines. She needed to ink with diligence and avoid any and all mistakes if she wanted to win Nozaki's love! He liked reliability and competence, so she absolutely couldn't afford to mess up! Then if she did a good job, surely he would—! He would—!
...Ah, who was she even kidding? Nozaki was dense as a rock, and about as perceptive as a tree when it came to her crush on him. He wouldn't magically understand her feelings, no matter how flawless her work.
Sakura sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat as she contemplated her love life – or rather, her lamentable lack of one.
Ding.
Her eye twitched as Mikoshiba got yet another text message. She'd long since given up on keeping count of the exact number of texts he'd received in the last hour alone, but she estimated it was somewhere in the ballpark of 'way too many', possibly even on the verge of edging into 'unhealthily many' territory.
The first vague stirrings of bitter jealousy were beginning to creep up on her, mingling with her annoyance at having her concentration interrupted time and time again, thus putting her potential chances with Nozaki in jeopardy. If only Nozaki would pay this much attention to her...
...actually. On second thought, perhaps that would be just a tad bit overwhelming. Half as much attention, then. Yeah, half as much attention sounded good.
Ding.
Mikoshiba mumbled something about being right back and got to his feet, his face still as bright red as it had been the moment the first message arrived. He disappeared into the bathroom with his eyes glued to his phone, typing out a reply. Once the door had closed behind him, Sakura set down her brush and looked at Nozaki. Now was her chance. But how to best approach this...
"Mikorin has really hit if off with Mayumayu-san, hasn't he? They've been talking a lot."
"They sure have," Nozaki said, not looking up from his work.
Shifting a little where she sat, Sakura carefully said: "...Nozaki-kun. Do you think we should tell him to turn off his phone? Or put it on silent, at least...? I mean I'm happy for him, it's just, the texting, it's a bit..." Annoying. Aggravating, even. "...distracting. Don't you think?"
Finally putting down his pencil, Nozaki regarded her seriously. Sakura squirmed a bit under his even gaze. "I tried that yesterday but he kept fidgeting. Ultimately, it was less distracting to let him have his phone. More productive. It makes for great reference material, too. Look."
Nozaki held up the draft he'd been working on. Mamiko was blushing so heavily Sakura could practically feel the heat of it, one hand delicately pressed to her mouth and the other clutching her phone. The thought bubble beside her head read: 'Writing such a thing...! How embarrassing...!!'
Sakura stared. "That's... It's... It's really..." she said, searching for words. No matter which way you looked at it, the similarity was undeniable. Uncanny, even.
"I know, right?" Nozaki said, all smiles and entirely oblivious to her true thoughts – as he so often was. "So adorable."
Mikoshiba returned from the bathroom then, cutting off anything she might have said in reply. Nozaki went back to his work as if nothing at all had happened and after a moment, Sakura followed suit, wondering when she would reach the point where she would just have to give up on life entirely.
And thus continued hell.
Ding.