Chapter 33: Caught in the Act

Tuesday evening settled over the Sato household with a deceptive calm. Riku sprawled on the living room couch, a half-finished history essay abandoned on the coffee table, his mind drifting to Aiko's laugh on the roof—the way her eyes had softened before Yuna barged in. Their "new normal" was a tightrope, and every step felt like a gamble, especially with his parents' growing suspicions nibbling at the edges.

The stairs creaked, and Aiko padded down, her hair loose and damp from a shower, her pajamas a loose T-shirt and shorts that barely reached mid-thigh. She carried a bowl of popcorn, plopping beside him with a smirk. "Slacking, knight?" she teased, nudging his essay with her foot.

"Thinking," he muttered, snatching the bowl as her toes brushed his leg. "You're distracting."

"Me?" she said, feigning innocence, leaning closer to grab a handful of popcorn. Her shirt slipped off one shoulder, revealing the curve of her collarbone, and Riku's eyes flicked there, then away, his face heating.

"Stop that," he said, shoving her lightly, but she grinned, tossing a kernel at him. It bounced off his nose, and he lunged, snagging her wrist. "You're asking for it."

"Prove it," she challenged, tugging free and flicking another piece. They wrestled, popcorn spilling across the couch, her laughter bright and reckless as she pinned his arms, straddling his lap. Her shirt rode up, flashing her midriff, and his hands landed on her waist, warm and soft under his fingers.

"Gotcha," she panted, smirking down at him, her hair falling like a curtain around their faces. His heart thudded, caught in her gaze, and he pushed up, flipping her onto her back with a triumphant grin.

"Not anymore," he said, hovering over her, their noses inches apart. Her breath hitched, her smirk faltering into something softer, and he leaned in, their lips brushing—just a whisper of a kiss, real and electric—when the front door banged open.

"Kids, we're—oh!" Hana's voice cut through, sharp and startled, and Riku sprang off Aiko like she'd caught fire, tumbling onto the floor in a heap of popcorn and shame. Aiko scrambled upright, yanking her shirt down, her face flaming as Hana stood frozen in the doorway, grocery bags dangling from her arms. His dad loomed behind her, eyebrows shooting up.

"Uh," Riku stammered, his voice cracking, "it's not—"

"What's… going on?" Hana asked, her tone a mix of confusion and suspicion, her eyes darting between them.

Aiko recovered faster, smirking despite her blush. "Just messing around, Aunt Hana," she said, brushing popcorn off her shorts. "Riku's a klutz."

"Messing around," his dad echoed, his grunt heavy with doubt as he set his bags down. "Looked like more than that."

"It wasn't!" Riku yelped, standing too fast and tripping over the coffee table, his essay fluttering to the floor. "We were—just—popcorn fight!"

Hana's lips twitched, caught between a smile and a frown. "Popcorn fight," she repeated, eyeing the mess—kernels scattered across the couch, Aiko's rumpled shirt, Riku's red face. "Right."

Aiko hopped up, brushing past Riku with a smirk that hid her nerves. "Totally innocent," she said, grabbing the bowl. "I'll clean up. Riku, help."

"Yeah," he muttered, avoiding his parents' stares as he scooped popcorn into his hands, his pulse still racing. Hana and his dad exchanged a look—long, silent, and loaded—before heading to the kitchen with the groceries, leaving them in a wake of awkward tension.

"Nice save," Aiko whispered, nudging him as they dumped popcorn into the trash. "Klutz."

"Shut up," he hissed, but her smirk was a lifeline, and he nudged her back, their shoulders brushing as they worked.

---

Dinner was a minefield. They sat across from each other, the table a battlefield of glances and unspoken questions. Hana ladled stew into bowls, her chatter about the neighbors too bright, while his dad flipped through his magazine with a focus that felt forced.

"So," Hana said finally, spoon pausing midair, "you two have been… close lately."

Riku's spoon clattered into his bowl, splashing stew onto his shirt. "Close?" he squeaked, wiping it with a napkin. "We're just—normal!"

"Normal," his dad grunted, not looking up. "Normal kids don't wrestle like that."

Aiko smirked, sipping her stew. "We've always wrestled, Uncle. You know me—I'm a menace."

"True," Hana said, her smile tightening. "But it's different now. You're older. People notice."

"People?" Riku asked, dread pooling in his gut. "Like who?"

"School," his dad said, flipping a page. "Heard some chatter at the market. Rumors again."

Aiko's smirk faltered, her spoon tapping the bowl. "They're dumb rumors," she said, her voice steady but her eyes flicking to Riku. "Nothing's changed."

Hana studied them, her gaze piercing. "If you say so. Just… be careful, okay? Family's tricky."

The silence stretched, heavy and brittle, until his dad grunted, "Pass the salt," and the moment broke. Riku passed it, his hand shaking, and Aiko's foot nudged his under the table—a quiet anchor in the storm.

---

School on Wednesday was a reprieve, but not by much. The rumors had shifted again—*"They're hiding something!"*—and Yuna pounced the moment Riku walked into Class 2-B, her grin sharp as a blade.

"Morning, cutie!" she sang, leaning over his desk. "Heard your mom caught you and Aiko getting cozy. Spill!"

"Shut up," he muttered, shoving his bag under his seat. "It wasn't like that."

"Sure it wasn't," she teased, twirling her hair. "Popcorn fight? Weak excuse."

Aiko slid in beside him, her smirk in place. "Jealous, senpai?" she shot back. "Want a turn?"

"Only if Riku's involved," Yuna replied, winking, and the class snickered as Riku sank lower, his face red.

Haruka intervened, handing him a tissue for his sweaty forehead. "Ignore her," she said, smiling softly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, taking it. "Thanks."

Mika slipped in next, her book clutched tight, and offered a shy nod. "Morning," she murmured, her eyes darting to Aiko, then away. The air was thick with unspoken questions, but no one pressed—yet.

Lunch on the roof was their sanctuary. They sprawled under the cloudy sky, bentos open, the breeze cool against their skin. Aiko kicked off her shoes, stretching out, her blouse untucking to flash her stomach. "Mom's onto us," she said, popping a rice ball into her mouth.

"Yeah," Riku agreed, his eyes flicking there before snapping back to his food. "Dad too. Think they'll say more?"

"Nah," she said, smirking at his blush. "They're fishing. We just keep it chill."

"Chill," he muttered, smirking. "Like you straddling me?"

She laughed, tossing a grape at him. "You flipped me, knight. Own it."

He caught it, grinning, and leaned over, brushing a quick kiss against her cheek—bold, real, and reckless. She froze, her blush instant, then shoved him back, laughing. "Warn me, jerk!"

"Payback," he said, and they tussled, her hair tangling, his hands grazing her waist, until the door banged open.

Yuna stood there, grinning. "Caught again, huh?"

"Get lost!" they shouted, and she laughed, retreating, leaving them breathless and tangled in their own mess.

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