Take 7 – A Slightly Reduced Moment for Three

Things don’t go according to plan, got that? Let me say it again: things don’t go according to plan.
Whether it’s a clock running a minute fast or fifteen minutes slow, pants you can’t find, a phone with low battery on a long trip, one tiny thing can throw everything off. That said, I think I understood a bit better why Iori, the obsessive planner, got so frustrated when her ridiculously elaborate schemes fell apart only two seconds after starting.

Where I'm going with this is: the situation was pretty straightforward in theory, a cute café, a not-too-hot night, a scene with every chance of turning intimate. That’s probably the picture Iori had in her head for a date with Agami.
The problem was even simpler: a table for two with three people at it.

As I mentioned, I could’ve ducked out or said something to fix the situation, but Iori stopped me.
At first, I thought it was nerves about being alone with Agami, but that was dumb, after all they’d already been alone in the club.
Was it the setting being so different?
It was just a café. Was a change of scenery really enough to make her nervous? Or was it the implications of the setting?

“No, no, no… it’s on page 17. It’s simple, if you use a CPL filter, you can cut glare naturally without needing digital editing. Didn’t I tell you to read it?” Agami was going on, as usual, about technical stuff that put a birthday party smile on his face.

“Oh! It’s just… I haven’t gotten to that book yet… I can’t read that much, I’ve got to keep my grades up.” Iori replied.

“Don’t be a jerk, Agami. She’s been in the club for one day, and you’re throwing a ton of photography bibles at her…”

“You shut it, idiot. Seems like I’d have to threaten you to pick up a camera… Speaking of, when’s the last time you even took a photo?”

“Uh… a while…”

“What’s ‘a while’?”

"‘A while’ is a relative concept that can range from a day to months.'” I said, tapping my chin while holding my coffee cup.

“I’m gonna jump across this table and knock your teeth out, Haruka.”

“Before you do, cunt, I’ll melt your skin with this coffee.”

Iori’s eyes were like ping-pong balls, bouncing back and forth between us as we talked.

“You’re the embodiment of human stupidity, Haruka.”

“Oh, yeah? Well… you’re… uh… a lycanthrope.”

“What?”

“Don't know, just sounds like a solid insult to me.

”“Do you even know what that word means?”

“Nope.” I said, sipping my coffee to mess with him.

Agami just burst out laughing, loud enough that people turned to look at our table.
I’d forgotten the last time we had a moment like this, a simple one, or rather, a moment where only the moment existed.

“Hey, Iori, be honest, doesn’t Agami have a lycanthrope vibe or what?”

“Haruka… a lycanthrope is a werewolf.” she said, laughing.

“Oh… thought it was some Greek insult or something.” I replied, defeated.

“Its origin is greek, so… not that far off.”

“No, actually, he’s pretty close…” Agami added, sipping his chocolate milk, “to frying his brain inside that hanging head of his.”

“Like an old man’s balls?” Iori asked.

We both stared at her for a second, then cracked up—not so much at her comment, but because, looking at her, she was probably the last person we’d expect to say something like that.

“Hey, Agami…” I said once I could stop laughing. “What do you think of Iori?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“It’s a simple question.”

“Well, I think she’s got potential, just needs to focus a bit—”

“I mean, what do you think of her in general, idiot.” I said, shaking his head.

“Alright, alright, stop it, dammit, are you a kid or what?” He fixed his hair and thought for a moment. “If I had to sum it up…”

I had an impulse, another impulse, I mean. Why? Who knows.
I didn’t ask permission or anything, just luded into Iori’s bag, grabbed her notebook and pen, made sure I flipped to a page far from the others, and handed it to him.

“Write it down.”

“Why?” he asked confused.

Iori looked like she wanted to jump in,tried a couple of times, even, but held back.

“Do it, or I’ll throw the coffee at you.”

“Ha! You really think…” He grabbed the pen and started writing. “Fine, I know you’re dumb enough to actually do it.”

The moment he handed the notebook back to Iori, I knew my part was done. Now I just needed a non-obvious way to slip out of the scene.
On the surface, it seemed simple, but there was a problem: I needed an excuse that wouldn’t expose Iori’s intentions and, at the same time… I was tired of lying to Agami. That made it trickier.

I thought I had an answer, but remember what I said about plans?
Agami’s phone rang, and judging by his sudden switch to 'serious student mode,' I knew it was his dad. The call was short, maybe less than two minutes.

“Ugh… just when this was getting fun…” he said, pocketing his phone and standing up. “Sorry, I gotta go.”

“What? Already?” Iori asked, maybe letting the thought slip into words without filtering.

“My dad needs me at the shop,” he said, leaving his share of the bill under his cup. “Unlike some people,” he continued, glancing at me, “some of us have real jobs and responsibilities.”

“Just tell him you can’t, and that’s it.” I replied, watching him walk off.

“Not everyone can live a carefree life like you, Haruka,” he said before leaving. “This was fun, though. We should do it more often.”

[Things, I’ll say it again, usually don’t go as expected… and sometimes, that’s…]

“Well, guess we’re calling it a day.”

“Don’t even think about getting up from that chair, Iori,” I said, resting my cheek on the table. “I haven’t finished my coffee yet.”

“It’s already cold by now.”

“Don’t care. Let’s stay a bit longer.”

“O-Okay…”

“You gonna read it?”

“I’d rather not, honestly…” she said, clutching the notebook again.

“Come on, at least it’s a starting point,” I said, trying to sip the last of my coffee without lifting my face from the table. “Plus, I don’t like suspense.”

Finally, Iori opened the notebook, flipping through the pages with deliberate slowness until she reached that one.
She just laughed and closed it.

“And?”

“‘A good clubmate.’” she said with a small laugh, one I knew pretty well, because it was the same one I used all the time.

[…Sometimes, that’s all we’ve got…]