While Mai had already successfully mastered her ability to modulate her presence so that normal people could perceive her, she had decided to take a few more days of rest before officially returning to school.
Haruto found himself looking forward to her eventual return; after their memorable escapades—such as their time together on the rooftop—his mind naturally drifted to new, creative possibilities.
Once she was back on campus, he figured he could slowly begin coaxing her into trying some of those ideas.
He had expected today to be an ordinary, peaceful routine. But reality, as it often did, had other plans.
As they walked down the school corridor and approached their classroom, Haruto spotted Megumi Kato standing quietly by the open doorway.
Facing her was a bespectacled boy who was speaking with frantic, overwhelming enthusiasm, gesturing wildly with his hands.
"That guy..."
Haruto immediately recognized the familiar face behind the thick frames.
"Tomoya Aki..."
"Hm?"
Hearing his name muttered aloud, Tomoya paused mid-sentence and whipped his head around, blinking in surprise. "Wait, do you know me?"
Haruto stepped forward, closing the distance and casually positioning himself beside Megumi. "Naturally. Everyone knows who you are."
Megumi looked up at Haruto, her expression calm yet carrying a faint trace of relief at the interruption.
Haruto offered a quiet, composed smile. "If memory serves, you're frequently mentioned among the campus's more eccentric students. Tomoya Aki—hardly a title anyone would actively strive for, but certainly a memorable one."
Tomoya's facial muscles twitched at the blunt assessment.
It wasn't a badge of honor by any stretch; he had earned that reputation by unapologetically wearing his otaku passions on his sleeve, entirely unbothered by social norms and occasionally cornering uninterested classmates to preach about his latest visual novel obsessions.
Still, Tomoya didn't shrink away from the criticism. In his mind, he was simply sharing things he loved with the world. How could genuine passion ever be wrong?
"Never mind that," Tomoya dismissed, turning his attention back to Megumi with renewed fervor.
"Kana–san, are you still thinking about my offer? I'm telling you, we can make an incredible doujin game, and you'll be the absolute star—the main heroine!"
Tomoya nodded eagerly, crossing his arms with a dramatic flair.
"Kato-san, I'll be honest, right now you look completely ordinary... but through my direction and vision in the game, I can sculpt you into the most dazzling, unforgettable heroine in existence!"
"..."
Megumi's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly—a subtle, quiet tell that she was thoroughly unimpressed.
Haruto could see right through her serene facade; she was deeply annoyed.
Not only had Tomoya initially botched her surname, but he had also flatly called her "ordinary" right to her face while pitching his grandiose project.
Anyone in her position would find it grating.
While Haruto hadn't paid much attention to Tomoya in the past, witnessing his complete lack of social tact firsthand left him unimpressed.
"Tomoya-kun," Haruto spoke in a measured, even tone, his voice completely devoid of anger yet carrying an undeniable weight of authority.
"Getting someone's name wrong is clumsy enough, but explicitly labeling a classmate 'ordinary' while trying to recruit them is poor form. Choose your words more carefully."
Haruto had hoped a calm, straightforward warning would prompt Tomoya to recognize his own lack of decorum and back off.
But Tomoya remained entirely oblivious,
mistaking Haruto's intervention for a lack of artistic vision.
He stared intently at Megumi for a moment, then nodded firmly to himself.
"No, it's the truth! Right now, she's a blank canvas—an ordinary girl. But that's why it works! It recaptures the exact feeling I had that day..."
Ever since that fateful encounter when Megumi had accidentally crossed his path and sparked his creative inspiration, Tomoya had been frantically chasing after her, desperate to recreate that fleeting moment of destiny and immortalize it in a game.
Puffing out his chest with absolute conviction, he reached out, intending to grab Megumi's wrist to emphasize his point.
"Don't worry, Kana-san! Trust me, I'll turn you into the ultimate heroine!"
Before Tomoya's fingers could make contact, Megumi stepped smoothly backward, instinctively sheltering herself behind Haruto's shoulder.
Haruto's gaze narrowed slightly. Without raising his voice or making a dramatic display, he simply reached out and caught Tomoya firmly by the wrist, halting his advance mid-motion.
"There's no need for physical contact when someone clearly wants personal space," Haruto said calmly.
"Wh—?!"
Tomoya blinked in shock, trying to yank his arm back.
But to his utter bewilderment, Haruto's grip remained completely immovable, anchored like solid steel against his attempts.
No matter how much force Tomoya applied, he couldn't budge an inch.
As the pressure around his wrist tightened just enough to cause a dull ache, panic began to creep into Tomoya's expression.
Sensing the mounting tension, Megumi reached out and gently tugged on the sleeve of Haruto's uniform.
Her voice was quiet, carrying a pragmatic note of caution. "Haruto-kun, it's fine. You can let him go."
She wasn't particularly worried about Tomoya's feelings, but she wanted to avoid any unnecessary trouble or a physical altercation right outside the classroom doors.
With a quiet sigh, Haruto instantly released his hold.
Because he let go without warning while Tomoya was still leaning back and pulling against him, Tomoya lost his footing entirely.
Stumbling backward in a frantic, uncoordinated dance, he tripped over his own feet and crashed heavily into a metal recycling bin beside the lockers.
Clatter—crash!
"Wahhh?!"
Tomoya let out a startled yelp as empty cans spilled out around him, leaving him sprawled awkwardly on the floor.
Haruto didn't gloat or mock him; his expression remained entirely neutral and composed.
He simply adjusted his cuffs, offering a mild, composed look down at the flustered boy.
"Watch your footing, Tomoya-kun. Next time, remember to respect personal boundaries before chasing after your creative inspirations."
The sharp clatter of tumbling metal cans and Tomoya's undignified yelp echoed down the hallway, instantly piercing the morning quiet.
In a matter of seconds, curious heads began popping out of nearby classroom doors, whispering and murmuring as they tried to figure out what had caused the sudden disruption.
Among the onlookers stepping out into the corridor was Utaha Kasumigaoka, who had been quietly pacing the hallway in search of a stray spark of inspiration for her ongoing manuscript.
Hearing the commotion, she leaned against the doorframe, her dark eyes drifting toward the scene.
"Hmm? It's him."
As she recognized Haruto standing calmly amidst the mild chaos, a sudden flash of realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.
Her gaze dropped to his hands, and memories of the previous day came rushing back with startling clarity.
The two lunchboxes sitting on her kitchen counter... they belonged to him!
"How on earth could I have completely forgotten about something like that?!"
Utaha muttered under her breath, lightly slapping a palm against her forehead in sudden mortification.
She had accidentally walked off with his property, eaten his home-cooked meal without a second thought, and taken both bento boxes home without leaving a single word of explanation or apology.
For someone who prided herself on being observant and composed, it was an astonishingly clumsy oversight.
Her initial impulse was to step forward right then and there, hand over the missing items, and offer a proper apology.
However, glancing back at the scene unfolding—with Tomoya still scrambling to pick himself up from the recycling bin and Haruto standing quietly beside a slightly relieved Megumi—she decided against it.
It was clear Haruto was already occupied with a rather tedious situation.
Deciding to give him a bit of space, Utaha crossed her arms, a faint, amused smile playing on her lips as she watched from a distance, filing the pending debt away for a more appropriate moment.
******
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