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... ssing second. His plan had worked—he could feel it.
The phone in his pocket vibrated, but he ignored it for now.
’Must be Enji,’ he thought with a faint smirk. ’Probably gloating about pulling it off.’
Beside him, Mari clung to his arm, her warmth and enthusiasm grounding him. "Let’s go to that matcha café!" she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"I read online that their matcha tiramisu is amazing."
Before Haruto could respond, Mari was already tug ...
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