Chapter 126: The Accidental "Date" and Triple Surveillance

The universe clearly enjoys my suffering. Just as I am starting to adapt to the constant, low-grade warfare of my daily life, our Japanese Literature teacher, Mrs. Sato (no relation to the weaver, thankfully), assigns a major partner project: a detailed analysis and presentation on a classic Heian-period poem.

And my partner, chosen by the cruel, arbitrary hand of fate (or possibly Mrs. Sato's secret enjoyment of high school drama), is Aiwa Matsuki.

The collective gasp from the classroom is almost deafening. Kenji makes a strangled choking sound. I can feel Rina's and Haruka's glares burning holes into the back of my head from across the room.

Aiwa just looks at me, her face flushing bright red, her expression a mixture of panic and a tiny, almost imperceptible spark of excitement.

"Okay, settle down," Mrs. Sato sighs, clearly regretting her decision already. "You will need to meet outside of class to work on this. Choose your poem by Friday."

This is a disaster. A mandated, unavoidable period of close proximity with Aiwa. Rina and Haruka will go supernova.

"Well," Aiwa whispers to me as the bell rings, avoiding my eyes. "I guess we should… meet? To plan?"

"Yeah," I say, my mind already racing, trying to figure out how to survive this. "How about the library? Tomorrow after school?"

"Okay," she agrees softly.

The news of our assigned partnership detonates like a bomb in my social circle.

"UNACCEPTABLE!" Rina declares that evening, pacing my living room like a furious general. "This is a clear and deliberate provocation! That teacher is clearly biased!"

"Or maybe," Haruka says coolly, though her eye is twitching slightly, "it is an opportunity. For surveillance. One of us needs to be there, to monitor their interactions."

"I volunteer!" Kenji shouts, raising his hand eagerly. "Operation: Library Stakeout! I will blend in with the bookshelves! They will never know I am there!"

"You are about as subtle as a foghorn, Kenji," Miki says dryly.

The next day, Operation: Library Stakeout is a go, despite my strenuous objections. I arrive at the library to find Aiwa already waiting at a secluded table, looking nervous.

"Hey," I say, sitting down.

"Hi," she whispers back.

We try to focus on the project, spreading out books and notes. But the atmosphere is incredibly tense. We are both acutely aware that we are probably being watched.

And we are right.

From behind a shelf of oversized art books, Kenji's ridiculously obvious fake mustache is visible. He tries to duck down when I look his way.

At a table across the room, Rina is pretending to read a fashion magazine, but she is holding it upside down, and her eyes are boring holes into the side of my head.

Behind a rotating display of new fiction, Haruka is attempting to look casual while clearly angling her phone to try and record our conversation.

It is the most stressful, least productive study session in the history of education. We barely manage to choose a poem before the absurdity of the situation becomes too much.

"They are all here, are they not?" Aiwa whispers, not looking up from her book.

"Yep," I whisper back. "Kenji is behind the art books. Rina has the upside-down magazine. Haruka is failing miserably at covert recording."

Aiwa lets out a tiny, choked giggle. The sound is so unexpected, so genuinely amused, that it breaks the tension. I start to chuckle too.

We both look up, and our eyes meet. We share a moment of pure, unadulterated, "our lives are completely insane" camaraderie.

And in that moment, with Rina and Haruka watching our every move, Aiwa does something incredibly bold. She reaches out under the table and quickly, shyly, squeezes my hand.

My brain short-circuits. The touch is brief, hesitant, but it sends a jolt through my entire system. She pulls her hand back immediately, her face flaming red, and dives back into her textbook.

I just sit there, frozen, my hand tingling, my mind reeling. Rina and Haruka did not see it. But I felt it. The shy girl, the cosplay goddess, my maybe-childhood-fiancée, just initiated contact. The game has just taken another wild, unpredictable turn.