The alarm buzzed softly in Rai's room, vibrating with a half-hearted urgency that matched his general mood about mornings. The digital display glowed a faint red: 6:30 AM. Rai Kurozawa opened one eye, sighed, and slowly sat up in bed like a robot booting up on low battery, each joint protesting the sudden movement. He felt like he needed a software update just to face the day.
He reached for his glasses on his bedside table, slid them onto his nose, and surveyed his room, a familiar sanctuary of towering bookshelves. "Morning, world... please don't be weird today," he muttered, the words barely a whisper, a silent plea to the universe. His internal monologue for the day had officially begun.
After his usual ritual—a methodical brushing of teeth, a quick check of his uniform for any rogue threads or wrinkles, and the slow, contemplative sipping of a cup of green tea—Rai slung his backpack over his shoulder. Its familiar weight was a small comfort. He stepped out into the cool morning air, drawing a deep breath. The sky was overcast, a soft, muted grey, but not yet raining. Quiet. Peaceful. Just how he liked it. The perfect setting for a protagonist who preferred minimal drama.
Yet his mind wandered, replaying the scene from yesterday with an unbidden clarity. The dimly lit alley. The menacing figures. And Aika… thanking him.
She had looked like a deer caught in emotional headlights, her usual sharp edges completely softened, struggling just to get those two simple words out. It was the most honest and unguarded he had ever seen her, a fleeting glimpse behind the carefully constructed facade. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile tugged at Rai's lips. "She's full of surprises," he mused to himself, a new, intriguing thought to add to his mental library.
His walk to school was uneventful, a blur of familiar streets and buildings, but his replaying thoughts made it feel shorter, the journey absorbed by his internal musings. As he entered the classroom, the usual morning chatter filling the air, he instinctively looked toward her seat, a habit he hadn't realized he'd developed.
There she was. Aika Hoshizora. Prim and proper, as always. Her dark hair was neatly tied, her uniform impeccably ironed. She sat perfectly straight, pretending to read her notebook with an intense focus, but Rai could tell she wasn't really focused. Her pen wasn't moving, and her gaze seemed fixed on a single, uninteresting spot on the page. She glanced up—just for a second—and their eyes met.
Her entire body jolted as if zapped by a rogue electrical current. Her head snapped away, her cheeks immediately flushing a tell-tale rosy red. She pretended nothing happened, her focus returning to the "fascinating" texture of her notebook paper.
"Classic tsundere," Rai thought, a faint amusement stirring within him. He blinked. What... did I do? Just look at her? Maybe she was embarrassed about yesterday. Maybe she thought she said too much? Or perhaps, the most horrifying thought, she regretted thanking him, fearing it had opened some unexpected conversational floodgates. He sighed and shrugged, settling into his seat. "Too early to decode mystery girls," he muttered under his breath, opening his own book as a shield. He felt a familiar urge to just disappear into the fictional world, where character motivations were clearly laid out.
Midway through the day, during the noisy, bustling transition between classes, a teacher poked her head into their classroom, her voice cutting through the general chaos.
"Hoshizora-san, could you help me take these reports to the faculty room? Just stack them on my desk, please. It's a rather urgent matter."
Aika, ever the diligent student, rose immediately, her movements fluid and efficient. "Yes, ma'am," she replied dutifully, gathering the surprisingly large pile of papers, careful not to wrinkle a single sheet.
On her way down the hall, her heels clicked lightly across the polished floor, a rhythmic, almost elegant sound amidst the muffled shuffle of student shoes. Her head was slightly tilted, focusing on the precarious stack of reports.
At the exact same time, Rai was walking down the hallway, nose buried in his book, lost in the thrilling climax of a detective novel. Predictably, he was oblivious to his surroundings, completely absorbed by the unfolding mystery on the page.
What followed was not only inevitable, but almost comically so. It was a collision course, orchestrated by the universe itself for maximum comedic effect.
WHUMP!
The sound was less a bang and more soft, sudden crumpling.
"Ow—!" Rai grunted, his book momentarily flying from his hands.
"What the—?!" Aika gasped, the sudden impact sending her meticulously stacked papers flying everywhere—fluttering like paper snowflakes in a blizzard of academic chaos, scattering across the hallway floor.
"Watch where you're—Kurosawa?!" Aika shrieked, her voice a mix of indignation and disbelief as she finally recognized her accidental assailant. Her face was already a furious red.
Rai blinked, pushing his glasses up his nose, finally noticing the damage, and the scattered literary detritus. His book had landed face down, pages splayed. "Oh. Uh. My bad. My apologies for interrupting your paper blizzard."
"'My bad'?! You bumped into me like a tank with glasses, Kurosawa! A blind tank, I might add! Do you even look where you're going?!" she fumed, pointing a trembling finger at him, her carefully constructed composure shattered.
"I was reading. Dangerous hobby, I know. Especially in high-traffic areas," Rai deadpanned, retrieving his book and nonchalantly dusting it off. "The plot was particularly gripping."
Aika scowled, her hands on her hips, but the urgency of the situation quickly overcame her anger. She sighed dramatically, then immediately knelt down to start gathering the scattered papers, a flurry of hurried movements. "Ugh, just help me pick them up… before Mr. Tanaka trips over them and spills his coffee."
"Of course." Rai bent down too, his hand reaching out for a stray report.
And then—
Their fingers touched. Not a fleeting brush, but a definite, surprising contact. A slight electric current seemed to zap through the air between them.
They both froze, suspended in a moment of awkward silence.
Rai jerked back an inch, as if burned. "Ah. Sorry. My apologies, I didn't realize your hand had such… gravitational pull."
He reached again for another paper, a clear space of floor between his hand and hers. Another accidental brush. A light, almost imperceptible graze.
Aika's face lit up like a Christmas tree, a furious, embarrassed red. "C-Can you NOT touch my hand every time, Kurosawa?! What is wrong with your spatial awareness?!" Her voice was rising, dangerously close to a squeak.
"I'm not trying to! It's not my fault! Your hand is just... aggressively in the way of the papers!" Rai retorted, exasperated. He was genuinely trying to avoid it, but it seemed their hands were magnetically attracted to each other.
"Oh, I'm in the way now?! My hand is too aggressive for you?!" she puffed, picking up a stack of papers with unnecessary force.
"It's paper, Hoshizora! Not a battlefield! We don't need to engage in hand-to-hand combat to retrieve it!"
"You're the one with the coordination of a blind cat in a paper factory!"
They both continued picking up papers with robotic awkwardness, clearly trying to avoid touching but somehow managing to graze fingers two more times, each triggering progressively redder cheeks and more frantic movements. It was a bizarre, silent dance of avoidance and accidental contact, witnessed by a few curious students peeking out of classrooms.
When they finally finished, the pile of reports miraculously restored, Rai stood and offered her the last few pages, holding them out carefully, fingertips only.
"Here. And, uh... sorry again. For the... collision. And the aggressive hands."
Aika snatched the papers, turning away, her ponytail swishing with indignation. "I didn't need your help anyway. I was just about to use my telekinesis to gather them."
But then, just barely audible, a faint whisper that almost blended into the hallway noise: "...Thanks."
Rai blinked. He almost didn't believe what he heard. "Did you just—?"
"No! You heard wrong! The acoustics in this hallway are terrible!" Aika cut him off, her back still to him, her shoulders stiff.
"I heard thank you, Hoshizora-san." Rai smirked, a triumphant glint in his eye.
"You heard wrong! It was a gust of wind! Or a bird! You heard it wrong!"
"Right. Must've been the hallway ghosts whispering their gratitude for cleaning up the paper mess," he chuckled.
Aika stomped off, cheeks glowing, clutching the papers like they had betrayed her and were about to be severely reprimanded. Rai watched her go, a small, knowing smile on his face. This was going to be a long year.
Later that day, the sky finally gave up its fight. The rain had begun—soft but steady, a gentle drumming against the classroom windows, painting the panes with streaky, watery patterns. The outside world had turned into a blurry watercolor.
Most students had already gone home, eager to escape the school's confines. Rai, however, packed up his things slowly, waiting for the rain to let up a bit before walking back. He hated soggy books more than anything.
As he exited his classroom, with an umbrella in hand, he noticed a familiar silhouette leaning near the hallway window, looking out at the dreary landscape. It was Aika, still in her seat by the classroom door, a backpack slung beside her, looking surprisingly vulnerable.
"Hoshizora?" Rai asked, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the empty hallway.
She turned around, startled, her eyes wide. "Kurosawa? What are you still doing here?"
"You're still here, too?" Rai replied, a hint of genuine surprise in his voice. He hadn't expected her to linger.
"I… forgot my umbrella," she admitted, her gaze flicking toward the rain outside, a rare moment of honesty in her tone. "So I figured I'd wait for it to stop. It can't rain forever, right?"
Rai tilted his umbrella, considering the steady downpour. "Do you want to share mine? It's a standard size, not exactly a mansion, but it should keep two people mostly dry."
"W-what?! N-no! I'm fine! I'll manage!" Aika stammered, her cheeks immediately flushing. Her voice was too high, betraying her sudden nervousness.
"You'll get soaked," Rai stated simply, gesturing to the rain. "And then your expensive shoes might get ruined. I wouldn't want that."
"I'll manage! I have excellent dodging skills!" she insisted, puffing out her chest, despite the obvious flaw in her logic.
"It might rain until night, Hoshizora. You'll be managing all the way till midnight."
"W-why would I share an umbrella with you anyway?!" she burst out, her usual indignant huff returning.
Rai raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Well, let's see. I'm the only one here with one. Unless you want to borrow my jacket and make a fashion statement that says, 'I'm a fashion victim who likes to use school property as a rain shield.' Your choice."
She folded her arms, her resolve crumbling under the weight of logical, albeit sarcastic, argument. Her eyes darted from his umbrella to the relentless rain. "Fine. But only because I hate getting wet. And my hair gets frizzy."
"Noted. A purely tactical alliance against precipitation and frizzy hair." Rai suppressed a smile, opening his umbrella.
"Stop saying weird things and start walking, Kurosawa," she huffed, already stepping under the umbrella, trying to maintain a respectable distance.
Under the small black umbrella, the two walked side by side, uncomfortably close. The space beneath the canopy felt strangely intimate. Aika kept trying to subtly lean away, creating a wider gap, but Rai, with a subtle shift of his body and a slight adjustment of the umbrella's angle, kept bringing them back into close proximity, ensuring maximum coverage. It was an unspoken, awkward dance.
"Seriously, do you always carry one?" Aika asked, trying to break the tension, her voice a little strained.
"It's a habit," Rai replied simply, his gaze fixed on the wet pavement ahead. "My books don't like rain. They tend to warp and become unreadable when drenched."
"That's such a 'you' thing, Kurosawa. Of course, you'd prioritize books over personal comfort."
There was a beat of silence, broken only by the steady pattern of rain on the umbrella fabric. Then Aika spoke again, softer, her voice tinged with a genuine curiosity that surprised Rai.
"Why are you being nice to me?"
Rai turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze. "What do you mean?"
"We barely know each other. And I haven't exactly been… well, nice to you. I've probably been pretty annoying, actually. And I slammed a desk at you." She admitted, her voice dropping to a near whisper, a rare display of introspection.
Rai shrugged, his eyes returning to the path. "I don't think you're as cold as you act, Hoshizora. It's just a… defense mechanism. And… I guess I still feel a little bad for the way I treated you earlier. I really wasn't trying to ignore you, I was just completely engrossed."
Aika looked down at her feet, lips pressed into a tight line. She mumbled, barely audible over the rain, "You don't need to go that far for me… idiot. I can handle myself."
"What was that, Hoshizora? Did you just call me an idiot again?" Rai teased, a grin spreading on his face.
"Nothing! I said nothing! You're hallucinating from the lack of sun!"
They walked a bit further, the silence returning, but this time it felt less awkward, more comfortable.
"You know," Rai said, breaking the quiet again, his voice thoughtful, "for someone who complains a lot, Hoshizora, you're not actually that unpleasant to be around. Once you get past the initial desk-slamming and threats, you're… alright."
Aika narrowed her eyes, a dangerous glint in them. "Was that… supposed to be a compliment, Kurosawa? Because it sounded suspiciously like a backhanded insult wrapped in a thinly veiled compliment."
"Definitely one of my better ones, Hoshizora. You should frame it."
She rolled her eyes dramatically. "You're such a weirdo, Kurosawa. A complete and utter eccentric."
"And you're a confusing paradox with expensive shoes and a surprisingly fragile ego."
"I like my shoes, thank you very much! They're Italian leather, Kurosawa!"
"I never said they were bad, Hoshizora. Just expensive. And indicative of your paradoxical nature."
"You're infuriating! Absolutely, utterly infuriating!"
"And yet here we are, sharing an umbrella like a low-budget romance manga scene, complete with awkward close-proximity and thinly veiled insults." Rai's grin widened.
Aika opened her mouth to argue—a retort clearly forming—then stopped. Her cheeks flushed a furious, embarrassed red. She clamped her mouth shut, looking away. "I hate that you're right, Kurosawa." She mumbled, almost too quiet to hear. It was a rare, genuine moment of exasperated defeat.
Eventually, they reached a quiet, well-maintained apartment complex, its entrance glowing softly in the fading light. Aika stepped aside, brushing a few raindrops off her skirt and backpack, already pulling her keys from her bag.
"This is me," she said, her voice a little subdued.
Rai nodded, closing the umbrella with a soft snap. "Home safe. Your shoes survived. Your hair appears to be frizz-free. Mission accomplished."
Aika hesitated. She looked at him, her usual sharp gaze softening, then quickly looked away, her fingers tightening around her keys. "Um… thanks," she said, the words barely audible, a faint echo of yesterday's difficult admission.
"Again?" Rai smirked, a playful glint in his eye. "Are you perhaps going for a new personal record of 'thank yous' in a week?"
"You're lucky I'm saying it twice in one week, Kurosawa! Don't get used to it! This is a one-time event!" She huffed, trying to reclaim her usual persona, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her.
"I'll cherish it forever, Hoshizora. A rare treasure in the vast, thank-you-less desert of our interactions."
"You're insufferable. Utterly, completely insufferable."
"I get that a lot. Usually from people who secretly enjoy my company."
Aika gasped, feigning outrage, then turned sharply and walked toward the entrance, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. She stopped at the automatic door, keys in hand.
She glanced back, hesitated for a long moment, then, with a quick, almost imperceptible flick of her wrist, waved quickly—like she regretted it halfway through the gesture, pulling her hand back almost immediately as if it had been burned.
Rai waved back, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face, a soft chuckle escaping him. He knew that little waves were more meaningful than any lengthy speech. He watched her until the doors swished.
Later that night, long after the city lights had fully bloomed and the rain had ceased, Aika sat on her ridiculously plush bed, hugging a ridiculously soft decorative pillow to her chest. Her face was still pink, the lingering blush from the day refusing to fade.
"He's such an idiot," she muttered to the pillow, burrowing her face into its softness. "Why did he have to offer the umbrella like that… like he actually cared or something? And that stupid smirk when I thanked him. It was so annoying."
She rolled on her side, kicking her legs lightly under the duvet, a childish gesture. "And then he smiled. That small, irritating smile. And then he talked like a manga character, all smooth and sarcastic. And then he… he made me laugh, curse him!" She buried her face deeper into the pillow, groaning.
"Ugh! I don't like him! I don't! He's just… some weird bookworm. That's all!"
A pause. The only sound was her own frustrated breathing.
"…But maybe he's not the worst. He actually… helped. And he didn't even make a big deal out of it. And he doesn't treat me like some delicate flower."
Another pause, a small, thoughtful sigh escaping her lips.
"Just slightly better than average. Still annoying, though. And overly sarcastic."
She rolled over again, dramatically flopping onto her back, staring at her opulent ceiling.
"Ughhhhhh, shut up, brain. Just… shut up."
Meanwhile, Rai was curled up in his favorite reading chair, the worn fabric molding to his body. A warm cup of jasmine tea steamed gently on the small table beside him, its comforting aroma filling the air. He was engrossed in a new fantasy novel, the pages turning with soft rustles.
His phone buzzed softly on the table, pulling him momentarily from the fictional realm.
[Group Chat: Project Literary Legends]
Sakura: hey hey~ what time are we meeting tomorrow? :3 I can't wait to discuss our book choices!
Kenji: 10AM OR RIOT! My character stamina is maxed for intellectual combat! Let's get this quest started!
Sakura: I second that, Kenji-kun! Let's meet at the café near the station~ I heard they have amazing seasonal pastries!
Kenji: I call window seat! For optimal people-watching and strategic observation of passersby!
Sakura: I call ordering cake! Maybe even a slice for everyone!
Kenji: I call ordering two cakes! One for me, one for my theoretical future wife!
Aika: (A single, stern emoji of a frowning face) I call telling you both to shut up if you don't focus on actual literature and stop ordering entire bakeries. This is a project, not a tea party.
Rai: I call bringing a book and ignoring all of you. Unless someone mentions a plot twist.
Rai smiled faintly, a genuine, private smile that warmed his face. He typed a quick, concise reply: "Sounds good. See you all there." He looked out the window. The city lights twinkled, and the rain had finally stopped, leaving the world refreshed and sparkling.
Tomorrow was going to be interesting. He had a feeling his quiet, predictable life was about to get a lot more… complicated. But strangely, for the first time in a long time, he felt a flicker of anticipation, a hint of excitement for the next chapter. He just hoped it wouldn't involve any more surprise thank-yous or aggressive hand-touching. Or maybe… maybe he secretly hoped it would.