Chapter 5: The Teasing Begins

Riku trudged home from school with his head in a fog. The day had been a whirlwind—Haruka's bubbly gratitude, the classroom whispers, and Aiko's icy stares from across the courtyard. He couldn't shake the feeling he'd stepped on a landmine without knowing it. All he wanted now was to collapse in his room, bury his face in a pillow, and pretend the world didn't exist. But with Aiko living under the same roof, even that felt like a pipe dream.

The house was quiet when he pushed the door open, kicking off his shoes with a sigh. His mom's note on the fridge said she and his dad were out for a neighborhood meeting, leaving dinner instructions and a promise to be back late. Perfect. A few hours of peace. He shuffled upstairs, loosening his tie, ready to veg out with some manga.

Then he heard it—the faint splash of water from the bathroom. Aiko was home. His stomach twisted, the morning's shower fiasco flashing back in vivid detail. He'd steer clear this time. No more disasters. He crept past the bathroom door, holding his breath, and made it to his room unscathed. Safe. For now.

He'd barely flopped onto his bed when his phone buzzed. A text from Aiko: *"Hairdryer in your room, right? Bring it."* Riku groaned, staring at the ceiling. Couldn't she wait five minutes? But he knew better than to ignore her—she'd just barge in herself if he didn't comply. He rummaged through his desk drawer, found the hairdryer buried under old notebooks, and steeled himself for the trip back down the hall.

He knocked this time—three loud raps, just to be safe. "Aiko? I've got the hairdryer."

"Come in!" she called, her voice muffled but chipper.

Riku hesitated, hand on the doorknob. The bathroom again? After this morning? But she'd said to come in, so it couldn't be *that* bad, right? He pushed the door open a crack, peeking inside—and immediately regretted it.

Aiko stood in front of the sink, wrapped in nothing but a white towel. Her wet hair cascaded over her shoulders, clinging to her skin in dark, dripping strands. The towel hugged her figure, barely covering her thighs, and a droplet of water slid down her leg as she turned to face him. She didn't flinch, didn't scream—just smirked, leaning one hip against the counter like she'd planned this.

"About time," she said, holding out her hand. "What, were you hiding from me?"

Riku's brain short-circuited. His eyes darted from her face to the ceiling to the floor—anywhere but the towel situation. "I—I wasn't hiding!" he stammered, thrusting the hairdryer at her like it was a live grenade. "Here, take it! I'm going!"

"Hold on," she said, stepping closer instead of taking it. The steam from her shower still lingered, warm and heavy, and he could smell that damn lavender again. "You're not gonna run off that fast. What's the rush?"

"N-no rush!" he lied, backing up until his spine hit the doorframe. "I just—uh—homework! Yeah, I've got homework!"

"Homework," she repeated, her tone dripping with skepticism. She took another step, closing the gap until he could feel the heat radiating off her. The towel shifted slightly, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. "You're such a bad liar, Riku-kun. Did seeing your cousin like this scare you that much?"

"Scare me? No! I mean—yes! I mean—" He flailed, one hand clutching the hairdryer, the other waving wildly. "Just put some clothes on, okay? Please!"

Aiko laughed, a bright, wicked sound that made his ears burn. "Relax, I'm not naked. Yet." She plucked the hair dryer from his grip, her fingers brushing his, and he jolted like he'd been shocked. "But if you're this jumpy now, how are you gonna survive a whole year with me?"

"I'll figure it out," he muttered, staring at his socks. "Can I go now?"

"Sure," she said, plugging in the hairdryer with a flourish. "But don't think I didn't notice you blushing at school today. What was that girl's name? Haruka? She's cute."

Riku's head snapped up, caught off guard. "Haruka? She's just—she tripped, and I helped her. That's it!"

"Uh-huh." Aiko switched on the hairdryer, the hum filling the room as she ran it through her hair. Over the noise, she added, "Looked pretty cozy to me. Better watch out, or I'll start thinking you've got a crush."

"I don't!" he shouted, louder than necessary. "She's just a friend—classmate—whatever! Stop twisting it!"

"Twisting it?" She glanced at him in the mirror, her reflection smirking back. "I'm just observing. You're the one getting all defensive."

He opened his mouth to argue, then clamped it shut. Nope. Not falling into that trap. "I'm going," he said, turning on his heel. "Enjoy your… hair."

"Night, Riku-kun," she called after him, her voice sing-song. "Dream about me—or Haruka, I guess."

He slammed his bedroom door behind him, collapsing face-first onto his bed. His heart pounded like he'd run a marathon, and his cheeks felt like they'd been set on fire. Aiko was relentless. Merciless. And living next door, armed with towels and teasing jabs about Haruka. How was he supposed to keep his sanity?

Dinner was leftovers—cold chicken and rice his mom had left in the fridge. Riku ate alone in the kitchen, replaying the bathroom scene despite his best efforts to block it out. Aiko didn't join him; she'd vanished into her room after drying her hair, leaving him to stew in his own flustered thoughts. He almost missed the chaos of his parents being home. Almost.

Later, as he brushed his teeth—carefully checking the bathroom was empty first—he caught his reflection in the mirror. Average face, messy hair, and a permanent blush that seemed glued on since Aiko moved in. "Get it together," he muttered to himself. "She's your cousin. She's just messing with you. It's fine."

But as he climbed into bed, the faint hum of Aiko's voice drifted through the wall—singing that same tune again. His pillow couldn't muffle it, or the way his pulse jumped at the sound. Day two down. Only 363 to go. He was doomed.