My name is Kenji. I'm a second-year Engineering student at Tokyo Tech, which basically means my social life is as non-existent as a vacuum in a lab experiment. My only goal today was to submit my thermodynamics paper without tripping over my own shoelaces.
Fate, however, had a much more "hands-on" plan for me.
The Encounter
I was rushing through the crowded hallway, balancing a stack of blueprints and a lukewarm canned coffee. That's when I saw her: Haruka Nanami. The "Campus Venus." She was beautiful, elegant, and had a glare that could freeze liquid nitrogen.
"Move it, freshman!" a senior shouted, bumping into my shoulder.
My balance—calculated precisely for a steady walk—was suddenly compromised. I flailed. My left foot caught the edge of a cleaning bucket. In slow motion, I watched my coffee fly through the air, but my body followed a much more disastrous trajectory.
THUD.
I didn't hit the floor. I hit something soft. Very soft. And warm.
"Mmph!?"
I opened my eyes. My face was buried directly into Haruka's chest. The scent of vanilla and expensive shampoo filled my lungs. Panicked, I tried to push myself up, but my hand landed on the tiled floor—which was covered in the soapy water from the bucket.
Sfx: Slide!
My hand shot forward, grabbing the only thing available to stabilize myself: the ribbon of Haruka's school-style blouse.
RIP.
"W-wait! I can explain the physics of this!" I yelled, looking up.
Haruka's face was a shade of crimson I didn't know existed in nature. Her blouse was now partially unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of black lace. The entire hallway went silent. Every male student in a 50-meter radius looked at me with a mix of murderous envy and awe.
"K... Kenji... kun..." she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Yes?" I squeaked.
"DIE!"
Her leather bag connected with my skull with the force of a falling meteor.
The Aftermath
I woke up in the infirmary an hour later. Sitting on the chair next to me was Yumi, my childhood friend and a massive gaming geek. She was currently recording me with her phone, stifling a laugh.
"Yo, 'Chest-Grappler' Kenji. You're trending on the college Discord," she grinned, showing me a blurry photo of the incident.
"It was an accident, Yumi! Gravity is a cruel mistress!" I groaned, clutching my throbbing head.
"Sure, sure. But hey," she leaned in, her oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder, "Haruka-senpai doesn't usually let guys live after a touch like that. Maybe you're her type?"
Before I could protest, the infirmary door slammed open. Haruka stood there, her blouse fixed but her eyes still burning.
"Kenji. You owe me a new ribbon. And a public apology. Meet me behind the old gym after sunset," she commanded.
Yumi whistled. "The old gym? That's where all the confessions happen. Or where people get buried. Good luck, Kenji-chi!"