Episode 107: Inefficient Romance

I should have known something was wrong when the twins were… researching.

Not reading. Not observing.

Researching.

“…They’ve been quiet for too long,” I muttered, adjusting my gloves as I sat on the sofa.

Diana, beside me, didn’t even look up from her book. “…That usually means they’ve found something new to critique.”

“…That’s not reassuring.”

“…It’s not meant to be.”

Across the room, Peresphone and Hades sat with a tablet between them.

On screen:

Romance media.

“…Why,” Peresphone began flatly, “…do fictional couples insist on creating unnecessary conflict?”

“…Dramatic tension,” Hades replied. “…Inefficient.”

I sighed. “…What are you two watching?”

“…Analysis material,” Peresphone said.

“…Romance tropes,” Hades clarified.

Diana finally looked up, interest piqued. “…Oh? This should be entertaining.”

The twins turned the tablet toward us.

A scene played:

Two characters arguing loudly over a misunderstanding that could have been solved in seconds.

“…Pause,” Peresphone said.

The video froze mid-drama.

“…Observation one,” Hades began, already taking notes. “…Lack of communication.”

“…Observation two,” Peresphone added. “…Excessive emotional response.”

“…Observation three,” Hades continued. “…Problem solvable in under ten seconds.”

They both looked at us.

“…Conclusion?” Peresphone asked.

Diana smirked. “…They’re idiots.”

“…Correct,” Hades said, writing it down.

Another clip.

This time: a jealous outburst.

“…Pause,” Peresphone said again.

“…Why is the female lead yelling?” Hades asked.

“…Perceived romantic tension,” Peresphone replied.

“…Inefficient,” Hades concluded.

They turned to us again.

“…How would you handle this?”

I adjusted my mask slightly. “…We wouldn’t let it escalate.”

Diana leaned back, crossing her legs. “…We’d address it immediately. Calmly.”

“…Example?” Peresphone pressed.

Diana didn’t hesitate.

“…‘I didn’t like that.’”

I followed. “…‘Understood. It won’t happen again.’”

The twins blinked.

“…That’s it?” Hades asked.

“…That’s it,” I confirmed.

They stared at the screen.

Then back at us.

“…So the conflict ends instantly,” Peresphone said.

“…Yes,” Diana replied. “…Because we’re not incompetent.”

Another clip.

This one… worse.

A dramatic love triangle.

The twins watched in silence.

Then:

“…Why are there three people?” Hades asked.

“…Unnecessary complication,” Peresphone replied.

“…Pick one,” Hades said flatly.

Diana chuckled softly. “…Agreed.”

I nodded. “…There’s no scenario where I’d choose anyone else.”

She glanced at me, amused. “…Nor I.”

The twins typed rapidly.

“Healthy pairing: singular focus. No deviation.”

Next trope:

The “will-they-won’t-they.”

The characters spent an entire episode avoiding confession.

“…Pause,” Peresphone said immediately.

“…Why are they not stating their feelings?” Hades asked.

“…Fear of rejection,” Peresphone answered.

“…Illogical,” Hades said. “…Data already suggests mutual interest.”

They turned to us again.

“…When did you confess?”

I hesitated.

Diana didn’t.

“…We didn’t ‘confess’ in the traditional sense,” she said.

“…We aligned,” I added quietly.

The twins paused.

“…Explain.”

Diana leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand.

“…We observed each other. Understood each other. And then… we simply were.”

“…No dramatic confession?” Peresphone asked.

“…No,” I said.

“…Efficient,” Hades concluded.

Final clip.

The classic:

A couple breaking up over something trivial.

The twins didn’t even pause it this time.

They just turned the tablet off.

“…Conclusion,” Peresphone said.

“…Most romance is structurally flawed,” Hades finished.

They looked at us one last time.

“…You two are an anomaly,” Peresphone said.

“…Statistically improbable,” Hades added.

Diana smirked. “…Or simply better designed.”

I adjusted my scarf slightly. “…We just don’t make unnecessary mistakes.”

The twins exchanged a glance.

Then wrote one final note:

“Optimal relationship model: quiet, direct, mutually understood, low chaos.”

From the sofa, Diana leaned slightly into me, her shoulder brushing mine—subtle, intentional.

“…I do enjoy being academically validated,” she murmured.

“…Of course you do,” I said.

From across the room:

“…They’re doing it again,” Peresphone muttered.

“…Subtle physical proximity,” Hades noted.

“…Consistent pattern.”

Diana didn’t even look at them.

“…Take notes.”

They did.

And somewhere between critique and observation, between mockery and analysis, the conclusion had already been reached:

Most people made romance complicated.

Messy.

Loud.

We didn’t.

And that was exactly why it worked.