Chapter 12: The Lunch Hour Gauntlet

School is supposed to be a sanctuary. A place of learning, boredom, and relative safety from domestic warfare. But as the lunch bell rings, I know my sanctuary has been compromised.

I usually eat lunch on the roof with a simple sandwich. Today, however, before I can even stand up from my desk, three shadows fall over me.

"Takeshi-kun," Izuwa says softly, appearing first. She looks apologetic, holding a reasonably sized, nicely wrapped bento box. "I made extra today. I thought you might like some."

That's normal. That's nice. I smile and reach for it. "Thanks, Izuwa-san, that's really-"

SLAM.

A massive, triple-decker lacquer box hits my desk with the force of a meteorite, knocking Izuwa's modest offering aside. Ayumi stands there, panting slightly from the effort of carrying it.

"Too slow, Izuwa!" Ayumi declares triumphantly. She turns to me, her eyes shining. "Onii-chan! Behold! The 'Ultra-Deluxe Sisterly Affection Bento Mark IV'! It contains all your favorites, arranged to spell out 'Best Brother' in nori!"

Before I can process the sheer architectural insanity of her lunchbox, two more girls burst into the classroom. The whispers start immediately. It’s Azuwa and Inoue, in their custom-tailored uniforms that Hina helped them alter to be just on the right side of school regulations. They look like they just walked off a music video set, and half the class is already taking sneaky photos.

"Oppa!" Inoue yells, ignoring the stares as she sprints over to my desk. She shoves a sleek, metallic lunchbox into my chest. "Forget that heavy stuff! You need idol fuel! I made you 'Crimson Rush Power Lunch'! It’s got high-protein chicken breast, steamed broccoli, and a special energy jelly we use before concerts!"

Azuwa arrives a second later, composed but with a definite competitive edge to her stride. She places a precisely organized, glass container on the only remaining corner of my desk.

"Ignore them," she says coolly, pushing her glasses up—glasses I am ninety percent sure she doesn't actually need but is wearing to look smarter. "I have prepared a macro-nutrient optimized meal. It calculates your exact caloric needs based on your height, weight, and average daily activity levels. It may not 'sparkle' like Inoue's or be ridiculously oversized like Ayumi's, but it is objectively the superior choice for your well-being."

I look at my desk. It is groaning under the weight of enough food to feed the entire rugby team.

"Uh, Hina?" I ask, looking at the fashionista who is leaning against the chalkboard, filing her nails. "Did you bring one too?"

Hina laughs, a sharp, clear sound. "Please. Cooking is terrible for my manicure. I'm just here to judge the presentation. Ayumi gets a seven for effort but a three for subtlety. Inoue's is a bit monochromatic—too much green. Azuwa's looks like a science experiment. Honestly, Izuwa's is the most aesthetically pleasing due to its balanced composition."

"No one asked for your judging!" Ayumi snaps, then immediately refocuses her laser-like intensity on me. "Well, Onii-chan? Which one makes you the happiest?"

The word 'happiest' is loaded. It's a trap. I can feel the eyes of the entire class on me. I'm the envy of every guy in the room, but they don't know the terrifying reality of this situation. If I choose one, the other two will spiral into a depression-fueled rage that will likely destroy the house later.

"They all look... great," I stammer diplomatically.

"That's not an answer!" Inoue pouts, leaning aggressively close. "You have to eat them! All of them! To show you love us equally!"

"If he eats all of them, his stomach will rupture," Azuwa points out logically, though she doesn't move her bento away. "However, he must at least sample each one to make an informed data point for future meal prep."

"Fine!" Ayumi grabs chopsticks and thrusts them into my hand. "Start with mine! The tamagoyaki is heart-shaped!"

For the next twenty minutes, I am force-fed like a Strasbourg goose. I eat Ayumi's overly sweet omelet. I eat Inoue's incredibly dry, unseasoned boiled chicken (apparently salt causes bloating, bad for idols). I eat Azuwa's 'nutrient paste' which tastes suspiciously like blended kale and sadness.

Izuwa just watches sadly as her perfectly normal, probably delicious bento sits ignored on the side.

By the time the bell rings, I feel sick. I can barely move.

"Wasn't that glorious, Onii-chan?" Ayumi beams, packing up her largely uneaten mountain of food. "You look so full of happiness! You can barely speak!"

"I think he's just full of food..." Izuwa murmurs concernedly.

"Mission accomplished," Azuwa states, checking another box on her mental clipboard. "Nutritional intake exceeded by four hundred percent. We will need to adjust dinner accordingly."

I groan, letting my head hit the desk with a dull thud. My sanctuary is dead. Long live the Happiness Wars.