Chapter 176: The Supermarket Ambush (Team Jealousy Assembles!)

The next few days are a blur of wary observation and confusing signals. At school, Aiwa continues her shy-yet-persistent orbit around me, occasionally deploying LUNA-Lite for strategic effect. Rina and Haruka maintain their uneasy truce, focusing their competitive energy on Comicon prep while subjecting me to rigorous "check-ins" regarding my non-existent interactions with Ichigo. My secret text conversations with Aiwa continue, a small island of shared understanding in a sea of paranoia. And my equally secret gaming sessions with Izumi become a regular occurrence, our digital camaraderie growing stronger even as my real-life suspicion about her true identity intensifies.

"You seem distracted, Rui-kun," Izumi comments during a particularly brutal run through the 'Volcano of Infinite Rage.' My Paladin has just accidentally healed a fire elemental instead of shielding her.

"Sorry," I mutter, quickly correcting my mistake. "Just… got a lot on my mind. Real-life boss battles."

"Ah, the eternal struggle," she sighs sympathetically through the headset. "Need backup?"

"If only," I say grimly.

On Saturday afternoon, needing to replenish our apartment's dangerously low snack supplies (a direct result of Kenji's unsupervised presence during cosplay work sessions), I venture out to the local supermarket. It feels like a risky mission – leaving the relative safety of the apartment means potential encounters with any number of volatile variables. But a man needs his cheap instant ramen.

I am in the brightly lit, terrifyingly cheerful snack aisle, carefully weighing the pros and cons of shrimp versus curry flavored chips, when I hear a familiar, husky laugh from the next aisle over.

"No way, they actually have the limited-edition matcha-cola flavor? Score!"

My blood runs cold. Izumi? Here? Now? Coincidence? Or is she actually stalking me?! My paranoia flares.

I peek around the corner of the chip display. Sure enough, there she is, looking effortlessly cool in ripped jeans and a band t-shirt, triumphantly holding up a bottle of questionable-looking green soda.

Before I can decide whether to run or hide, she spots me. Her face breaks into that dazzling, lopsided grin. "Rui! Fancy meeting you here! Replenishing your handler fuel supply?"

"Uh, yeah," I stammer, caught completely off guard. "Just… snack emergency."

"Same," she laughs, tossing the matcha-cola into her basket, which also contains an alarming amount of instant noodles and what looks like high-end coffee beans. "College student diet. Though," she adds, giving me a playful once-over, "you look like you could use some actual protein. Living on chips and sibling drama?"

"Pretty much," I admit sheepishly.

We fall into easy conversation, wandering through the aisles, discussing the relative merits of different instant ramen brands ("The black garlic oil tonkotsu is objectively superior, Rui, do not argue with me") and the philosophical implications of seasonal chip flavors ("Wasabi-gingerbread? Who approved that?!"). It feels comfortable. Normal. Dangerously normal.

We are heading towards the checkout lanes, Izumi animatedly explaining why spicy kimchi ramen is objectively superior to tonkotsu (a point I vehemently dispute), when I hear it. A sound that strikes fear deep into my soul, a sound I have learned to associate with imminent disaster.

"Onii-chan?"

I freeze. Slowly, dreadfully, I turn around. Standing near the entrance, looking like the three horsewomen of my personal apocalypse, holding a shared basket filled with vegetables and righteous fury, are Rina, Haruka, and Aiwa. They were clearly on a "healthy ingredients run" for some kind of forced group dinner, and they have just walked directly into my "coincidental" encounter with Izumi.

The universe does not just hate me; it is actively, maliciously plotting against me with the precision of a Bond villain armed with Murphy's Law.

The three girls stare. They see me, standing comfortably close to the cool, beautiful, blonde stranger. They see her laughing, gesturing animatedly. They see me smiling back, looking relaxed and unguarded.

Rina's knuckles turn white where she is gripping the basket handle so hard the plastic creaks. Haruka's eyes narrow into calculating slits, already assessing Izumi as a potential threat. Aiwa just looks… hurt. A deep, quiet wave of disappointment washes over her face, like seeing her hero consorting with the enemy.

"Rui," Rina says, her voice dangerously calm, the calm before she unleashes a storm of guilt trips and passive aggression. "Who is your… friend?" The word 'friend' is practically dripping with sarcastic venom.

My brain goes into full panic mode. Think, Rui, think! What is the least suspicious explanation? "This is Izumi-san!" I say, perhaps a little too loudly, gesturing frantically between them like a malfunctioning traffic controller. "We just bumped into each other! Total coincidence! We were just discussing… ramen preferences! A very important, very platonic topic!"

Izumi, damn her cool composure and apparent enjoyment of my suffering, just gives the three girls a polite, slightly amused smile, leaning nonchalantly against a display of discounted soy sauce. "Izumi Sato. A pleasure." She offers a casual little wave, looking completely unfazed by the wall of hostility radiating from them.

Rina, Haruka, and Aiwa just stare at her, their expressions identical masks of intense suspicion and immediate, unified dislike. They are united, once again, by their shared territorial instincts regarding me. Aiwa's hurt seems momentarily overshadowed by her inclusion in the 'Jealous Girls Club.'

"Izumi Sato," Haruka repeats slowly, her eyes scanning Izumi from head to toe, clearly accessing her internal database for any potential matches or weaknesses. "Have we met? You seem… familiar."

"I doubt it," Izumi replies smoothly, completely unfazed by the scrutiny. "I do not get out much. Too busy battling digital dragons and deciphering terrible poetry assignments." She winks at me, a blatantly provocative gesture that immediately sends Rina's blood pressure skyrocketing into the stratosphere.

"So," Rina interjects, stepping slightly in front of me, a clear blocking maneuver designed to shield me from Izumi's dangerous charm (and possibly prevent me from escaping). "How exactly do you know my brother, Izumi-san? These 'coincidental' meetings seem… frequent."

"Oh, we just run into each other," Izumi says vaguely, picking up a daikon radish and examining it with intense interest. "Small world, right? Especially when you frequent the same nerdy hangouts." Her gaze flickers towards Aiwa, who is hiding slightly behind Miki (when did Miki and Hana get here?! They must have been trailing the advance team, acting as silent backup!). "You must be the famous rivals everyone talks about. Ectiqa, Hime-Hime… and LUNA, was it?" She gives Aiwa a polite nod, pretending not to recognize her from class or know her secret identity. Aiwa just blushes furiously and looks away, her cover momentarily safe but her jealousy clearly engaged.

The air in the supermarket aisle is thick with unspoken accusations, simmering hostility, and the faint smell of discounted miso paste. Miki looks like she is about to declare the supermarket a demilitarized zone and confiscate everyone's shopping baskets. Hana looks like she might start stress-eating the raw carrots in Rina's basket. Kenji is, thankfully, still nowhere to be seen, probably off comparing the prices of limited-edition idol merchandise in another part of the store.

This is a disaster. A five-alarm social catastrophe unfolding right next to the discounted tofu and potentially expired natto. And I am, as always, directly in the blast radius, wishing I could just curl up inside a giant daikon radish and disappear.