Chapter 9: Haruka’s Move

Friday hit like a freight train. Riku slogged through morning classes, his mind a tangle of Aiko's late-night visit and the growing buzz about him at school. Whispers followed him—Haruka's gushing, Mika's quiet thanks, Yuna's loud praise. He hated it. Attention was his kryptonite, and now it was everywhere.

Lunchtime brought Haruka barreling into Class 2-B again, her energy undimmed. "Riku!" she chirped, plopping into the seat beside him. "I've got a favor to ask."

He braced himself, bento half-open. "What now?"

"Study session!" she said, clapping her hands. "I'm failing history, and you're smart, right? Help me after school? Please?"

"I'm not that smart," he said, but her puppy-dog eyes were relentless. "Fine. Just for a bit."

"You're the best!" She hugged his arm, pressing close enough that he felt her warmth through his sleeve. He stiffened, cheeks flaming, as classmates snickered around them.

The door slid open mid-hug, and Aiko stepped in, her lunch bag dangling from her hand. She froze, eyes locking onto Haruka's grip on Riku. "Wow," she said, her voice dry as desert sand. "Didn't know I was interrupting a date."

"It's not a date!" Riku yelped, wrenching his arm free. Haruka blinked, confused, but didn't let go of her smile.

"Oh, hi, Aiko!" she said. "It's just a study thing. You can come too!"

Aiko's lips twitched, a smirk barely held back. "Tempting, but I'll pass. Wouldn't want to cramp your style." She dropped Riku's lunch on his desk—harder than necessary—and turned to leave. "Have fun, Riku-kun."

"Wait—" he started, but she was gone, the door sliding shut with a soft click. Haruka tilted her head.

"She's intense," she said. "Is she always like that?"

"Pretty much," Riku muttered, rubbing his arm where her hug had lingered. He couldn't shake Aiko's expression—annoyed, sure, but something else too. Hurt? No, that didn't make sense.

After school, he met Haruka at the library, determined to keep it quick. She spread her history notes across a table, chattering about samurai battles while he tried to focus. Her enthusiasm was infectious, but her habit of leaning close—pointing at pages, brushing his hand—kept him on edge. He corrected her timeline of the Sengoku period, she giggled at his awkward explanations, and for a moment, he almost forgot the chaos of his week.

Until Aiko walked in. She didn't say a word—just grabbed a book from a nearby shelf and sat two tables away, flipping pages with a focus that felt performative. Riku's stomach sank. Haruka waved at her, oblivious, but Aiko didn't wave back, her eyes flicking to them every few seconds.

"Focus," Riku said, tapping Haruka's notebook. "You've got a test Monday."

"Right, right!" She grinned, scooting closer. "You're such a good teacher."

Aiko's book slammed shut, the sound echoing in the quiet library. She stood, shot Riku a look he couldn't decipher, and stalked out. He stared after her, torn between chasing her and staying put. Haruka nudged him.

"She'll be fine," she said. "Let's keep going!"

He nodded, but his mind wasn't on history anymore. Aiko's silent storm was brewing, and he had no idea how to weather it.