Chapter 2:

Chapter 2: A Minor Collision at Lunch

Campus Confessions — Volume 1: The Secrets We Keep

My phone buzzed three times before I opened my eyes.

Rurii: wake up senpai
MeiMei: rename complete
Group name changed to “Athletic Love & Drama Club.”

I groaned into the pillow. “Five minutes. Just five.”

Before I could protest digitally, another message popped up.

Haruka: Please change it back.
Hina: Too late. It’s archived in my memory forever.
Rurii: morning meeting today don’t be late
MeiMei: he’ll be late.

Morning Drift

The café near the quad was already packed — steam, chatter, and the hiss of milk foam filled the air.
Rurii waved from the counter like she was signaling an aircraft.

“You survived!” she said. “Coffee or caffeine disaster?”

“Whatever stops time.”
“Double espresso it is.”

She paid before I could argue, grinning over her shoulder.
“Consider it interest on all the times you carried the club banners.”

“Interest accumulates fast.”
“So do excuses, senpai.”

We found a window seat. Outside, petals clung to the glass; inside, the air smelled like roasted beans and possibility.
Rurii stirred her drink with unnecessary enthusiasm.

“Haruka-senpai texted you yet?” she asked casually.

“Probably about schedules.”
“Or about you flirting with destiny again.”

Before I could respond, a soft thud — a tray tipping.
Yuki stood there, eyes wide, lemonade teetering.

I caught the cup just before it fell. “Reflexes: still operational.”

“Th-thank you!” she said, cheeks coloring.
Rurii’s straw froze mid-sip.

From the corner of my vision, someone passed the window — long hair, neat steps. Haruka.
She glanced in, just once, expression unreadable, and disappeared toward the faculty hall.

Rurii tapped her spoon on the table. “You really do attract trouble.”

“It’s mutual,” I said.
“Even a falling sandwich, huh?” she muttered, hiding a smile.

Afternoon Rush

By the time we reached the gym, chaos had evolved.
MeiMei balanced cones on her head; Hina lectured a whiteboard; Yuki arranged first-aid kits in neat rows.

“Welcome to organized confusion,” I said.

Haruka stepped in a moment later, clipboard in hand, presence calming the room instantly.
Her hair was tied up today — strict, efficient.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s start with attendance. And Kazuki — thank you for being early.”

“Character development,” I replied.

Rurii nudged me with her elbow. “See? She noticed.”

During setup, Haruka called me aside.
“About leadership,” she said quietly. “They listen to you.”

“They listen to Rurii louder.”
“Then maybe she should lead.”
“She already does,” I said. “Just from chaos.”

Her smile was brief but real. “Keep an eye on her anyway.”

Evening Wind-Down

The gym emptied under orange light.
I stacked cones; the air smelled faintly of rubber and effort.
Rurii returned with two lemon teas, tossing one my way.

“You always clean up when no one’s watching,” she said.
“Old habits.”
“It’s sad.”
“Efficiently sad.”

She leaned against the wall, sipping. “If you keep being this nice, someone’s gonna fall for you.”
“You say that like it’s a problem.”
“It is — if it’s not me.”

Silence.
Then her laugh — bright and nervous, bouncing off the bleachers.
“I’m kidding! Totally kidding.”
“Right,” I said. “Totally.”

She pushed off the wall. “Race you to the vending machines. Loser buys snacks.”
“Again?”
“Tradition starts somewhere, senpai!”

She ran ahead, hair catching the last strip of sunlight.
I followed slower, heartbeat louder than footsteps.

Spring still smelled like coffee.
Maybe something else now, too.