Ai's POV
I'm standing like a ghost in front of the dining table. Just... staring. Not at Emi, not at the cereal box, not even at the wall.
At the juice.
Yes. Another box. This time? Mixed fruit. Not orange. We're upgrading.
It's judging me.
Yesterday, orange juice betrayed me. It flew from my hand and onto a poor stranger's shirt. A stranger with enough anger to melt icebergs. And spread viruses. The trauma is still raw.
Do I dare?
My fingers hover near the box.
Emi walks by, dressed like she's got her life together and judging me hard. "What are you doing! You're late! Ai..." she mutters.
"You're also late for hospital!" I replied.
"Don't care for me... Is kiko is coming today?"
"Yah.. i guess so."
I grab the juice box like it's a bomb I need to defuse.
"Good luck," I whisper to myself, slipping it into my bag.
Just then, a loud knock at the door.
"Coming!" I yell and race to open it.
Kiko. Grinning like a raccoon who stole something shiny.
"Ready?" he asks, backpack slung lazily on one shoulder.
"Emotionally or academically?"
"Both of course," he replies.
"I don't know." I replied.
he smirked.
"Bye Emi!" I screamed. Yes Screamed.
"Kiko, take care of her." Emi said.
"Yah, Don't worry Emi. C'mon Ai."
Our walk to school is a chaotic concert of nonsense.
"You ever wonder why pigeons walk like they owe someone money?"
"What?"
"I mean—they could just fly, but no. Drama."
"you also walk like penguins."
"Oh really! May that's cute."
before one second he's calling penguins drama and now—cute.
We talk about egg plant, it's a fruit or vegetable?, and whether teachers eat chalk.
I feel normal around Kiko. Dumb, but normal.
We reach the school gate and someone from the speaker screams like he was hungry. "Attention students!"
Everyone halts.
"Tomorrow, a medical team from Phoenix General Hospital will be visiting for a disease awareness workshop. two pairs of students will be represented by each section for the presentation. Attendance is mandatory on that day."
I sigh. Sounds serious. But at least it's not P.E.
and workshop is held by phoenix—where Emi do practice.
okay,
everyone is saying my name was mentioned on the board.
And there it is:
Team 5: Ai Hana and Yuri Irie.
"Yuri?" I whisper, blinking.
The guy I wet in citrus?!
I slowly turn to see him standing at his desk—pristine shirt today. Good. He's already staring at the list with a bored face like he's doing mental calculus.
Crap.
"Good luck," Haru whispers behind me, cackling. "He might stab you with a pencil. Accidentally, of course."
"Really?"
"You don't know him yet."
oh....god...
" Who's in the second group from our section?"
"Me and Rina."
oh...
Before I can flee to another planet, our teacher claps her hands. "Pair up with your partners and exchange contacts. You'll need to coordinate from home."
I'm back to my seat.... And yah yuri sits ahead me.
"Give me your contact." He finally asked.
he handed me his phone and I typed my number. I handed my phone to him and he typed his number.
Silently.
Coldly.
"Done," he mutters.
"…Cool."
He nods once and turns away.
i saved his contact by the name Iceberg.
Later at home, I stare at my phone like it's a ticking time bomb. Should I text him? Should I wait?
What if he thinks I'm weird? Okay. Chill. Just say 'hi.' That's harmless.
I type it.
Me: hi
A full minute passes.
Iceberg: What?
Sir. Excuse me. WHAT?! Not "Hi." Not "Hello." Just… "What?"
I start typing again. A whole paragraph.
Me: Ummmm, just texting about the workshop? We're partners? Diseases thing? School said we should coordinate.
His reply comes faster than my heartbeat.
Iceberg: I know.
I stare at the screen.
"…He KNOWS?"
I started typing again.
Me: So…
I'm still typing...
Iceberg: where are you comfortable to do the project? Your or mine?
i immediately erased what I wrote.
me: not mine.
Oh.
Wait.
Me: Actually my home is under construction. And my sister Emi, her friend's baby is puking on the carpets. As well as My area is so noisy.
Pure—Lie.
Iceberg: My place, then. Sending address.
He drops the location. Efficient like a Google Calendar reminder.
I immediately regret starting this conversation.
why....
Next day. Sunday. Noon.
Kiko insists on walking me there.
"You sure he's not your boyfriend?"
I blink at him.
"What kind of logic is that?! Just because I'm visiting a guy doesn't mean he's my boyfriend!"
"Looks like it."
"By that logic, if you walk next to a vending machine, is it your fiancé?!"
Kiko chuckles. "You're going somewhere else now."
"Because people always assume things. A girl breathes near a boy, boom, they're engaged."
He smirks. "I breathe near boys all the time."
"Are you married to all of them?"
"oh god...." He took a deep breath and realised he can't win.
We reach Yuri's serviced residence. Fancy. Glass windows. Serious silence. The kind of place where elevators whisper.
"I'll pick you up at 4," Kiko says. "Good luck. Don't talk too much. He's still a stranger to you."
"I'll try not to spill juice."
He waves and walks off.
and I'm here standing in the elevator.
seconds passes, minutes passes, hours passes and I'm here still finding his apartment 812.
Finally! I reached my destination! I press the door bell and then boom!
Nothing happens.
I pressed again and this time, he opened the door. I can feel the cold breeze coming from his behind.
He steps aside without a word. Just one tiny nod, like I'm a customer entering a haunted library.
The apartment smells like… lemon sanitizer and mild awkwardness.
"Shoes off," he says. Not a question. Not even looking at me.
"Of course," I whisper like I'm entering a place where rude aunty lives.
His apartment is ridiculously neat. Like, serial killer or mom-level neat. There's not a single sock, book, or crumb out of place. The air smells like expensive floor cleaner and quiet judgment.
He gestures at the sofa. "Sit."
I sit.
There's a laptop already open. A notebook beside it. Pens arranged by height. I sit like I might break the oxygen around me.
Is he's suffering from OCD?
"You brought juice?" he asks, finally looking at the box peeking out of my bag.
I panic. "N-no. It's not a weapon today."
"Wasn't assuming it was."
We both stare at each other for a second too long.
He walks to the kitchen counter and returns with two glasses of—guess what?
Juice.
I blink. Hard.
"What's this?" I ask.
"Orange."
Fate is playing games with me.
He seat besides me..."Now, listen carefully. You're better at arts and visuals. Right? So you will handle all the slides along with prompt if needed."
"How do you know that I'm good at arts?"
Is he's a stalker.
" I'm not a stalker, I saw your artworks when your with kiko during Lunch break."
"Oh... Okay." Okay, I need to be careful. He can read mindes.
"Okay, so you'll handle slides and I'll do research, but that doesn't mean you're fully excluded from research."
"Okay...Sir."
"Okay now, I'll start research and you start making some customised slides." he announced. Of course it's his place.
"Wait–can I get water before starting the work?"
He nodded and moved to the kitchen.
I stare at the glass of water he just placed in front of me like it's gonna leap at me.
He catches me staring. "What now?"
"Nothing. Just... you're really neat."
"That's not a disease," he deadpans.
It is... OCD...
I snort. Loudly. Then cover my face.
He raises an eyebrow. "Was that a laugh?"
"No, it was a... stress release sound."
His mouth twitches. Possibly a smile. Or indigestion.
We both started working... He's doing research on laptop and I'm making customised stickers or you can say... Layers on tablet.
I'm designing germs and viruses in chibi style. That's my art form.
"Hey what are you doing!" He screamed I guess.
"Designing slides. I think"
"But bacteria and viruses doesn't look like this!"
"I just added a tie on bacteria's neck. That's my art style."
He stared and He... twitched. His lip twitched. Was that a Smile!
"Okay, make what you're making. Just believing your process."
We worked quietly until, His phone buzz. He sees time.
"You hungry?"
"Not at all."
"You look pale... You're hungry."
"Really?"
"Yah, I have Ramen."
"Okay. But not too spicy... Add spice in mine like it doesn't exists."
"Okay...."
He gets up and moved towards the kitchen. I'm able hear the sound of gas nobes and pouring water in pan.
By the way, Yes. I can't expect a boy keep his home this much clean. I'm impressed.
Whatever I'm still designing that viruses and vaccines...