Chapter 20: The Confession Scare

Riku's stomach churned as he trailed after Haruka, her cheerful chatter a distant hum in his ears. Aiko's icy departure had left a knot of guilt twisting inside him, and every step away from her felt wrong. But Haruka's enthusiasm was a force of nature, and he didn't have the heart—or the spine—to break free. She led him to a dango stall, grabbing two sticks of the sweet, chewy dumplings and thrusting one into his hand.

"Eat up!" she said, biting into her own relish. "You look like you need sugar."

He forced a smile, nibbling the dango, but the sweetness couldn't cut through his unease. Aiko's words echoed in his mind: *"I don't care. Enjoy yourself."* But she'd cared—he'd seen it in her eyes, the way her jaw clenched. Why did it bother her so much? And why did it bother *him* that she was upset?

Haruka tugged his sleeve, pulling him toward the courtyard where a makeshift stage hosted a karaoke contest. Students belted out pop songs with varying degrees of skill, the crowd cheering or groaning accordingly. She bounced on her toes, scanning the lineup. "Ooh, we should sing something! A duet!"

"Pass," Riku said, shuddering. "I don't sing. Ever."

"Aw, come on!" She pouted, looping her arm through his. "You'd be great! We could do a love song—something cute and cheesy."

His face heated at the suggestion. "No way. Besides, I'm tone-deaf."

"Liar," she teased, leaning closer, her breath warm against his ear. "I bet you've got a nice voice. Sing for me, Riku?"

Her closeness sent a shiver down his spine, and he stepped back, nearly tripping over a stray cable. Haruka giggled, steadying him with a hand on his chest. "Careful! You're such a klutz sometimes."

"Only when you're around," he muttered, and she laughed louder, her fingers lingering on his yukata. He stiffened, hyper-aware of the contact, and glanced around, half-expecting Aiko to materialize with another scowl. No sign of her, but the crowd parted, and Yuna Ono sauntered over, still in her fox-spirit costume, tail swishing.

"Hey, lovebirds," Yuna said, smirking. "Having fun?"

Haruka blinked. "We're not—"

"Sure look cozy," Yuna cut in, winking at Riku. "Careful, Haruka. Aiko's got a leash on him."

"Leash?" Riku sputtered. "She does not!"

"Could've fooled me," Yuna said, shrugging. "She's been glaring daggers since the dance. Jealous, maybe?"

"Jealous?" Haruka echoed, her eyes widening. "Wait, does Aiko like you, Riku?"

"No!" he said, too quickly. "She's my cousin. That's all."

Yuna arched her brow. "Cousin, huh? You sure about that?"

Riku's mouth went dry. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she said, her grin Cheshire-like. "Just saying—family ties don't always stop feelings. Especially not with you two living together."

Haruka gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Oh my gosh, is that true? Are you and Aiko…?"

"No!" Riku shouted, his voice cracking. Heads turned, and he lowered it, mortified. "We're not—there's nothing like that. She's just… protective."

"Protective," Yuna repeated, unconvinced. "Right. Well, good luck with that." She sauntered off, leaving Riku red-faced and Haruka staring at him with wide, curious eyes.

"Riku," Haruka said softly, stepping closer, "is there something between you and Aiko? Because if there is, I—"

"There's not," he insisted, his heart pounding. "She's family. That's it."

"Okay," she said, but doubt lingered in her gaze. She fiddled with her dango stick, then took a deep breath. "Then… maybe I can tell you something."

His stomach dropped. "Tell me what?"

She glanced around, ensuring they were alone, then met his eyes, her cheeks pink. "I… I really like you, Riku. Like, *like* you. You're so kind and funny, and you're always helping everyone, and… I think you're amazing."

He froze, the confession hitting him like a slap. "Haruka, I—"

"You don't have to answer now," she said quickly, her words tumbling out. "I just wanted you to know. I've liked you for a while, and… well, I thought maybe you'd like to go out sometime? Like, a date?"

Riku's mind blanked. A date? With Haruka? She was sweet, sure, and pretty in a bubbly, chaotic way, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Aiko—her smirk, her teasing, the way she'd whispered *"Focus on me"* during the play. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Haruka's smile faltered. "It's okay if you don't feel the same. I just—"

"Haruka, wait," he said, scrambling for something, anything. "I'm… I'm not really looking for a relationship right now. With anyone. It's not you, it's—"

"Me," she finished, nodding. "I get it. Too much, too soon."

"No, you're great," he said, guilt gnawing at him. "I just… things are complicated."

She forced a smile, her eyes shimmering. "Complicated with Aiko?"

He flinched. "No, it's not—"

"It's okay," she said, stepping back. "I'll… I'll see you around, Riku." She turned and hurried into the crowd, her yukata's bunnies blurring in the lantern light.

Riku stood there, stunned, the dango stick limp in his hand. He'd hurt her, and he hadn't even meant to. Why couldn't he just say yes? Why did Aiko's face keep flashing in his mind?

Speaking of Aiko, she materialized beside him, her arms crossed, her expression a mix of smugness and concern. "Well, that was awkward."

"Were you spying?" he demanded, whirling to face her.

"Hardly," she said, sniffing. "I was passing by. Heard the drama. So, Haruka's got it bad for you, huh?"

"It's not funny," he snapped, tossing the dango stick into a nearby bin. "She's upset now, and it's my fault."

Aiko's smirk faded, her gaze softening. "Hey, it's not your fault," she confessed. You can't control her feelings."

"Yeah, but I could've handled it better," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "I'm such an idiot."

"You are," she agreed, but her tone was gentle. She stepped closer, her hand brushing his sleeve. "But you're a kind idiot. That's why people like you."

He glanced at her, surprised by the compliment. "Even you?"

She blinked, then smirked again. "Don't push it, knight." But her fingers lingered on his arm, warm through the fabric, and he didn't pull away.

They stood there, the festival's noise fading into the background, until a loud bang startled them both. Fireworks erupted overhead, a final burst of color and light, and the crowd oohed and aahed. Aiko's hand slipped down to his, squeezing briefly before letting go.

"Come on," she said, her voice barely audible over the booms. "Let's go home."

He nodded, following her through the throng, his heart a tangled mess. Haruka's confession, Aiko's touch, Yuna's insinuations—it was too much to process. But as they walked side by side, her shoulder bumping his occasionally, he couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, the chaos was worth it.