Tuesday.
A new day. A new chance for peace.
I walked into class, hopeful. I had finished my homework. I had a full lunch. Airi hadn’t sent me any texts, mysterious cookies, or threats. This could be the start of something normal.
And then I saw it.
My seat.
It was gone.
Here we go again.
No. It had been moved—across the room, next to hers.
Airi sat there casually, spinning a pencil. “Good morning, seat thief.”
I sighed.
“I’m the thief?!” I pointed. “You moved my desk!”
“I call it ‘strategic relocation.’ The war of learning demands sacrifice.”
“It’s not war. It’s math class!”
She patted the chair beside her. “Now sit, soldier.”
I glanced at Mr. Kumagai, who looked up from sipping his coffee like he had accepted the chaos.
I sat.
Barely a second passed before Airi poked my arm with her pencil.
“Your hair’s sticking up,” she whispered.
“Maybe because I was ambushed this morning.”
“You should be grateful,” she said, smoothing my hair down. “Now people won’t think you crawled out of a drain.”
“How kind of you.”
“Oh, it gets better.”
It did not.
During math, she whispered all the wrong answers to me.
During science, she doodled on my notebook.
First a cat.
Then a turtle.
Then a cat riding a turtle into... battle?
During lunch, she opened my bento.
“What is this?”
she asked, lifting my egg roll
“My lunch?”
“Hmm. 4/10. Presentation’s weak.”
“You ate half of it already!”
“I was hungry.”
At this point, Daiki leaned over from his seat.
“Dude, blink twice if you’re in danger.”
I blinked four times.
After lunch, we had self-study time. Everyone picked their own desks. I thought just maybe I could escape to the back corner near the window.
But Airi appeared like a boss from Elden ring.
“Trying to run away?” she asked, pulling out the chair next to me.
“This is the third time today you’ve followed me!”
“It’s called dedication.”
“Do you even have work?”
“Nope.”
“Then why—”
“To supervise your tragic handwriting.”
She leaned over again. I inched away. She inched closer.
Eventually, we were sharing a desk like some awkward rom-com scene but instead of butterflies, I had anxiety.
“Your kanji looks dead,” she commented.
“They match my soul.”
“You should write a haiku about it.”
“No.”
She grinned. “Already did.”
She held up a sticky note:
Yuuji is so slow
Like a snail doing taxes
But kind of cute, too
I stared. “Did you just insult me in broken haiku?”
She looked proud. “Poetic bullying.”
“…Thanks?”
Later, during cleanup, I found a note inside my desk.
It said:
"You’re tolerable. For today.
~A"
Underneath was a tiny drawing of me? as a turtle holding a pencil.
I sighed.
“Tanaka,” Mr. Kumagai called. “You look like a man haunted by metaphors.”
“I’m being metaphorically hunted, sir.”
“Good. That means you’re still alive.”
As I left the classroom, I spotted Airi outside, hands behind her back like she hadn’t spent the day mentally breaking me down with sarcasm.
She glanced over. “Still breathing?”
“Barely.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“…Do I get a choice?”
“Nope.” She smiled sweetly. “But maybe I’ll bring a better haiku next time.”
-------------
Yuuji’s Mental Diary:
Goal: Quiet day.
Result: Declared war. Lost.
New fear: Haikus.
Strategy for tomorrow: Wear camouflage. Hide behind Daiki.
-----------
Bonus Scene - Storage room
“Why am I always the one getting dragged into these things?” I muttered, staring at the dark, dusty storage room.
“Well,” Airi said sweetly, closing the door behind us, “maybe you’re just easy to trap.”
Click.
“…Did you just lock it?”
She gave me a proud smile. “For safety. Wouldn’t want ghosts sneaking in.”
I blinked. “This is a storage room, not a haunted castle.”
“Same energy.”
We were supposed to grab some old decorations for the upcoming school event. Instead, we were now locked in a room that smelled like expired chalk and tragic decisions.
“Where’s the light switch?” I asked, fumbling along the wall.
Airi pulled out her phone flashlight and pointed it at my face. “Found it.”
“That's not—ow, my eyes!”
“Oops. My finger slipped.”
She aimed the light at the ceiling. The tiny room was packed with dusty props, boxes labeled “DO NOT OPEN,” and, inexplicably, a sombrero.
“What are we even looking for?” I asked.
Airi shrugged. “Something sparkly.”
“That narrows it down to everything in this room that’s either dangerous or haunted.”
She wandered deeper into the room while I stayed near the door, debating if I could survive breaking the lock with my forehead.
“This place is full of history,” she said, poking a broken skeleton prop. “Maybe someone confessed their love in here.”
“Or died of embarrassment.”
“Same thing.”
She turned around suddenly, holding a feather boa. “Do you think this would look good on you?”
“Absolutely not.”
She wrapped it around my neck anyway. “You look like a failed magician.”
“Thanks. I always dreamed of being emotionally crushed in low lighting.”
Then the shelf behind her creaked ominously.
“…Did that shelf just move?”
“I think it did.”
We froze.
A long pause.
“It’s either a rat,” I whispered, “or a very angry ghost.”
She picked up a mop like a sword.
“We go down fighting.”
Fortunately, it turned out to be a box slowly sliding from uneven stacking.
Unfortunately, it still hit me in the foot.
Just as we were about to leave—
Click.
The door shut behind us. And won't open.
“What… was that?”
I rattled the handle. “We’re locked in.”
Airi blinked. “How romantic.”
“NO.”
“Yuuji-kun, are you blushing?”
“That’s my panic face!”
We knocked, shouted, even tried calling Daiki.
Nothing.
“I think we’re stuck here until someone finds us,” I said.
Airi sat cross legged on an old sofa, completely unbothered.
“Wanna play ‘which book title matches your love life’?”
“No.”
She pulled one from the shelf. “The Sound of One Heart Breaking.”
“…Seriously?”
“Solitude in Spring.”
“Please stop.”
She grinned and held up another: “To Whom the Poem Tolls.”
“That’s not even a real title!”
After about thirty more minutes of awkward silence, and 12 more books.
someone finally opened the door.
It was Rika. She looked completely unsurprised.
“Oh. You’re still alive.”
Airi smiled sweetly. “Barely.”
We walked home separately, but later that night—
At 12:43 a.m., I got a text.
Airi Fujimoto:
> hey
>what if cats had human jobs
like, tax accountant cat
Me:
> what??
Airi Fujimoto:
> or turtle news reporters
“slow but accurate”
Me:
> are you okay
Airi:
>Yeah,
> Still think the boa suits you.
Me:
> You dropped it on my face.
Airi:
> With love.
> Also, I found this on your back.
Attached was a blurry photo of a sticker reading “Property of Drama Club – Return or Suffer.” Stuck to my back.
Me:
> I’m never doing favors with you again.
Airi:
> See you tomorrow, Turtle Houdini 💕
I turned off my phone and sighed.
Somehow, the closet wasn’t even the weirdest part of my day.
---
📝 Yuuji’s Mental Diary
Day ??? – Locked in a Storage room.
Mission: Get decorations
Reality: Got emotionally glitter bombed and feather-boa’d
Injury report: One bruised toe, one crushed ego
Airi Score : 9/10 for surprise attacks
Survival Tip: Never trust anyone who says “just a quick errand”
New fear unlocked: Storage rooms
Note : Oh, and now I’m apparently part of the Drama Club???
Tomorrow, I’m bringing backup.
Or a lockpick.
Maybe both.
---
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