Chapter 6: Library Luck

Riku's third day with Aiko as his roommate started with a rare victory: he made it through the morning without a single mishap. No bathroom blunders, no towel ambushes—just a quick breakfast where Aiko was too busy texting to tease him. He'd even managed a "See you at school" without tripping over his words. Small wins, but he'd take them.

Yamato High buzzed with its usual chaos as he slipped into Class 2-B, still riding the high of an uneventful start. The morning classes dragged—math equations blurring into a haze of numbers he barely grasped—but lunch offered a reprieve. He grabbed his bento and headed for the library, craving quiet after yesterday's rooftop invasion by Haruka. The library was his sanctuary: dim lights, towering shelves, and the soft rustle of pages. No one bothered him there. Usually.

He'd just settled at a corner table, unwrapping his grilled fish, when a shadow fell over him. He looked up to see Mika Fujimoto standing there, clutching a stack of books that wobbled dangerously in her arms. Mika was the opposite of Haruka—quiet, reserved, with long black hair tucked behind her ears and glasses perched on her nose. She was in his class, but they'd barely spoken beyond polite nods. Her voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper.

"Um… Riku? Could you… help me?"

He blinked, chopsticks hovering midair. "Help? With what?"

She shifted the books, her cheeks pinkening. "These… they're returns for the library club. I can't reach the top shelf, and the ladder's broken, and… you're tall."

Riku wasn't *that* tall—average at best—but he couldn't say no to those pleading eyes. "Sure," he said, setting his bento aside. "Where do they go?"

Mika led him to a towering shelf near the back, pointing up at the highest row. "There. The history section." She handed him the first book, her fingers brushing his as she did. He flinched slightly, but she didn't seem to notice, too focused on balancing the rest of the stack.

He stretched up, sliding the book into place, then turned for the next. They fell into a rhythm—her passing, him shelving—until the pile dwindled. On the last book, a thick volume about samurai battles, their hands brushed again. Mika fumbled, and the book slipped, tumbling toward the floor. Riku dove to catch it, landing on one knee with a soft thud. He held it up triumphantly, grinning despite himself.

"Got it."

Mika's face lit up, a shy smile breaking through her usual reserve. "Thank you, Riku. You're… really nice."

"It's nothing," he said, scratching the back of his neck as he stood. "Anyone would've helped."

"No," she said softly, clutching the empty tray to her chest. "Not everyone. You always do, though. Like with Haruka yesterday… and me now."

He froze, caught off guard by the observation. "I—I just don't like seeing people struggle, that's all."

Her smile widened, just a fraction. "That's why I… um… never mind." She ducked her head, her glasses slipping down her nose. "Thanks again. I'll… see you around."

She scurried off, leaving Riku blinking after her. What had she been about to say? He shook it off, returning to his bento, but the quiet moment didn't last. A shadow loomed again—this time, it was Aiko.

She leaned against the table, arms crossed, her uniform tie slightly askew. "Making new friends, huh?"

Riku nearly dropped his chopsticks. "Aiko? What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," she said, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. "Saw you with Glasses Girl. What's her deal?"

"Her name's Mika," he said, frowning. "She needed help with some books. That's it."

"Books," Aiko repeated, smirking. "Sure. Looked pretty cozy from where I was standing."

"It wasn't cozy!" he protested, his voice rising before he caught himself and lowered it to a hiss. "I was just helping. Like I helped Haruka. It's not a big deal."

"Uh-huh." She slid into the seat across from him, snagging a piece of his fish with her fingers. "You're turning into quite the ladies' man, Riku-kun. First Haruka, now Mika. Who's next?"

"No one's next!" he snapped, swatting her hand away from his bento. "Stop making it weird!"

She popped the fish into her mouth, chewing with exaggerated delight. "Too late. It's already weird. Better watch out, or I'll tell Mom you're collecting a fan club."

"Don't you dare," he groaned, burying his face in his hands. Aiko just laughed, light and mocking, before sauntering off with a wave. Riku stared at his half-eaten lunch, appetite gone. Why did she care who he helped? And why did her teasing hit him harder than usual?