It was the kind of day where the sky looked too perfect to be real like a default phone wallpaper.
Sunlight streamed in, birds chirped in the distance, and Class 1-B was in chaos.
"Group project?!"
"Do we have to do it with partners?!"
"I call Mika! Mika, we're paired!"
"Not fair! You two always team up!"
Their homeroom teacher, Yamada-sensei, stood at the front of the room, arms crossed, sipping his coffee like he was above all earthly conflict.
"I said quiet down. You'll be assigned randomly."
The room deflated with a synchronized groan.
Saito Kagami blinked at the board. The project outline was simple: pair up, research a historical event, and prepare a short presentation due in one week. A typical exercise in forced cooperation and low-stakes stress.
He had no intention of reacting. Projects were easy. Presentations were a minor inconvenience. The only variable was the partner.
Please be efficient, he thought. Please be quiet. Please don't eat chips during work.
Names started appearing on the whiteboard.
Column A: Student 1. Column B: Assigned Partner.
And there it was.
Kagami Saito – Kumijo Riko
A pause.
He blinked once.
Then again.
...Huh.
He heard someone gasp. Probably Mika.
"Kumi-chan, you got Judgey-kun!"
"Serious-face-kun, huh?" someone else said, clearly enjoying the nickname Riko had coined last week.
Saito didn't move. His expression remained flat, but inside his brain:
Probability of sustained contact with Subject Riko: 100%
Duration: 7 days minimum
Project theme: irrelevant—variables now unstable
Riko leaned over her desk and flashed him a crooked smile.
"Looks like we're stuck together, Serious-face-kun."
"…I have a real name."
"Yeah. But your face is just so serious. You should get that checked."
He didn't answer.
She tilted her head. "That's not a 'no,' though."
By lunch, half the class had already claimed desks and hallway corners for group planning.
Saito sat at his usual solo desk, notebook open, pencil poised.
He expected Riko to be surrounded by her usual orbit of friends, laughing, chatting, generally being a gravitational force.
Instead, she sat down next to him.
Not across from him.
Next to him.
He stared at her.
She took a bite of bread, chewed, swallowed, and then looked at him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"So… project."
"…Yes."
"You're not gonna ask what I want to do?"
"No. You'll tell me."
"Wow," she said, blinking. "You're confident."
"Logical."
"Same thing, I guess."
Riko reached into her bag and pulled out a crumpled packet of lemon-flavored gum. She popped one in her mouth, then offered it to him.
He stared at it like she had offered him a live wasp.
"I don't chew gum during study periods."
"Because of focus?"
"Because of residue."
She laughed through her nose. "You're really something."
They decided on the Meiji Restoration after Saito listed five options in order of presentation efficiency, research clarity, and low competition probability.
Riko picked the third one. "Because three's a good number."
Saito internally debated if that was sarcasm or not. He still couldn't tell with her.
They agreed to meet at the library after school.
It wasn't a date.
Just a controlled, mutually agreed-upon academic session.
That somehow made him more nervous.
The school library was quiet at 4:00 p.m. Most students preferred cafés or clubs. Riko arrived ten minutes late, holding a banana milk and two convenience store rice balls.
"You already started, huh?" she said, plopping into the seat next to him.
"Yes."
She looked over his notebook. "Wow. Neat handwriting."
He didn't respond.
"You ever mess anything up, Saito-kun?"
"…I've overcooked rice before."
She burst out laughing. "That's it?"
He glanced sideways at her, mildly annoyed by the crinkle of her wrapper. She tore open one of the rice balls with the precision of someone who did not, in fact, care about rice integrity.
They spent two hours working side by side.
She wasn't as distractible as he'd expected.
She asked a lot of questions—some of them oddly phrased ("So were the samurai like, retired influencers or what?"), but she did take notes. She even corrected one of his typos, which annoyed him a lot more than it should have.
By the time they packed up, the sun was dimming.
"I'll bring poster stuff tomorrow," she said, slinging her bag over one shoulder. "We can draw during lunch. Or you can just do all the letters. Yours are so freakishly neat it's scary."
Saito nodded once. "Acceptable."
They stood awkwardly at the library doors.
Then Riko turned and stretched her arms behind her head.
"See you tomorrow, Serious-face-kun."
"...Yeah."
And she walked away.
Saito didn't move for a full twenty seconds.
Proximity analysis: tolerable.
Collaboration level: above expectations.
Emotional response: low to moderate elevation. Possible caffeine spike?
Further testing required.
He sighed.
He was going to need another notebook.
The next day, Riko didn't sit next to him at lunch.
Which was fine.
Totally fine.
They worked on their project again during study period. She had drawn a stick-figure samurai on the cover of their poster. It had hearts around it. He crossed them out. She added sparkles. He crossed those out too. She added cat ears.
They reached an unspoken truce.
He learned she preferred to work with background noise. She learned he preferred silence. So she brought wireless earbuds and hummed anyway.
"Don't you think the Restoration was kinda romantic?" she asked at one point, balancing her chair on two legs.
"It was primarily political and military restructuring."
"Yeah, but like—ideals! Loyalty! Swords! Hidden agendas!"
He stared at her.
"Do you view all history through the lens of drama?"
She grinned. "Only the interesting parts."
They didn't talk after that day.
Not out of avoidance, just… nothing to say.
Which, for Saito, was normal.
But the silence felt slightly different now.
Like background static.
Something… waiting.
Friday came.
They presented.
Riko opened with a bright, "I let my partner do most of the brain work 'cause he's a genius, but I drew the samurai, so I think we're even."
Saito spoke plainly, confidently, listing facts and diagrams. She added color commentary ("He didn't like my sparkles") and jokes that made half the class snort.
They got full marks.
On the way back to their desks, she bumped his shoulder lightly.
"Not bad, partner."
Saito blinked.
Then replied, deadpan, "You were unexpectedly useful."
She raised her eyebrows. "I think that was a compliment."
"I think so too."
That night, he opened his notebook.
Day 14:
Subject Riko Kumijo.
Joint activity concluded. Unexpected compatibility.
Noted behavior: expressive doodling, social magnetism, subtle humor.
Notable phrase: "You're really something."
Counter-phrase: "You were unexpectedly useful." (intended as compliment; delivered poorly)
He stared at the page.
For the first time, he didn't add a scientific conclusion.
He simply closed the notebook.
And thought:
What now?