Kaito's Perspective
The world narrowed to the space between the rice cracker display and Hikari's shocked face. His systems failed. No protocol existed for this: a chance encounter with the girl who occupied his quiet thoughts, here in the bright, public chaos of a supermarket. He was frozen, basket hanging uselessly from his hand.
Then Aiko moved.
His sister, with her effortless social grace, stepped into the tense silence like it was a dance floor. She smiled, warm and open, directly at Hikari.
"Hi there! You must be a friend of Kaito's from school." Her voice was cheerful, a normal sound that made the whole surreal moment feel abruptly, terrifyingly real.
Kaito's heart hammered against his ribs. Friend. The word hung between them again, but now it was being offered to the world by his sister. He saw Hikari blink, her defensive posture tightening for a second before she seemed to process Aiko's friendly tone. Her gaze flickered from Aiko to him, searching.
Swallowing hard, Kaito found his feet moving, bringing him to stand slightly behind Aiko, as if pulled by a gravitational force. He managed a small, stiff nod in Hikari's direction.
Hikari looked back at Aiko, then at Kaito's nod. Something in her expression softened, just a fraction. "Yeah," she said, her voice quieter than her usual classroom bluntness. "I am."
Aiko's smile widened into something triumphant and deeply pleased. She turned her head to look at Kaito, her eyes sparkling. "I had no idea," she said, her voice dropping to a teasing, sisterly whisper meant to carry. "My brother finally has a friend. After eight years of his lonely ninja act, this is huge news."
Hikari's brows drew together in clear confusion. Eight years? Kaito felt a flush creep up his neck. Before he could even attempt to form a sentence to navigate this, another voice joined them.
"Hey, Hikari, did you find the—oh." Kenji Tanaka rounded the corner, a bag of sour plum candies in hand. He stopped, taking in the scene: his sister talking to two strangers, one of whom was a tall, strikingly handsome boy who looked like he'd been sculpted from ice and good manners. "Are these your friends?" Kenji asked, his tone casually protective.
Hikari gave a single, sharp nod. "This is Kaito. From school. And his sister, Aiko."
Kenji's eyes lit with immediate recognition. He broke into a friendly grin, extending a hand first to Aiko, then to Kaito, who shook it with automatic politeness. "No way! Kenji Tanaka. So you're the famous Kaito. Hikari's project partner. The one who actually managed to make history not sound like a sleeping pill. I've heard about you—well, the project part, anyway. Thanks for looking out for her."
Kaito, utterly unprepared for this easy, grateful acknowledgment from Hikari's brother, could only manage another nod. "The work was collaborative," he said, the rote phrase feeling inadequate.
"Well," Aiko chirped, seamlessly taking control of the floundering social situation, "since we're all here and apparently doing the same thrilling Saturday chore, why don't we hang out? Safety in numbers against boring errands."
Kenji laughed, easily agreeable. "Sure, beats doing it alone. Lead the way."
What followed was an hour that existed outside of Kaito's understanding of reality. They moved through the store as a group of four. Aiko and Kenji fell into easy conversation at the front—discovering they attended the same university, comparing notes on professors. Hikari walked beside Kaito, a quiet, solid presence. They didn't speak, but the silence was different from the library. It was filled with the hum of freezers, the chatter of their siblings, and the shared, unspoken awe of the situation.
"Food," Kenji declared after the shopping was done. "I'm starving. There's a good ramen place around the corner. My treat, as a thank-you for the project rescue."
They found a booth. Aiko and Kenji slid in on one side, immediately resuming their university talk. Hikari slid in next to the window, and Kaito, after a second's hesitation, sat beside her. Their arms didn't touch, but he was hyper-aware of the scant centimeters between them.
Bowls of steaming ramen arrived. The conversation flowed around them, carried by their siblings.
"So, Kaito," Kenji said between slurps, "Hikari says you're the reason she passed history. Seriously, thank you. She was one failed grade away from being banned from her violin."
Kaito looked from Kenji's sincere face to Hikari, who was glaring at her brother but not denying it. "She understood the material," Kaito said, finding his voice. "She just… articulates it differently. The perspective was hers." He was defending her again, but it was just the truth.
Hikari looked down at her ramen, but Kaito saw the faintest hint of that rooftop smile touch her lips.
Aiko watched the exchange, her own smile soft and knowing. She asked Hikari about her violin, not with parental judgment, but with genuine curiosity about what kind of music she liked to play. Hikari's answers were short, but not hostile.
Kaito ate, listening, observing. He saw Hikari in a new light—not as the lonely girl in the back of class or the fierce violinist, but as a little sister being gently teased and fiercely protected. He saw a reflection of his own dynamic with Aiko, and it made Hikari feel more real, more anchored in a world beyond school.
As the bowls emptied, the afternoon sun slanted through the restaurant window. It was time to go.
"This was actually fun," Kenji said, standing. "We should do it again. Not the shopping, the food part." He pulled out his phone. "Let's swap contacts. Easier to coordinate the next rescue mission, academic or otherwise."
Numbers were exchanged. Aiko got Kenji's contact. Kenji got Kaito's. And finally, Kaito's phone buzzed with a new contact saved not from a class roster, but from a real, shared afternoon.
Hikari Tanaka.
He stared at the name on his screen as they said their goodbyes outside the restaurant. The empty page in his notebook now had a title, a date, and a flood of sensations to go with it: the smell of ramen, the sound of his sister's laughter mixed with Kenji's, the warm solidity of Hikari sitting beside him, and the new, terrifying, wonderful reality of her name in his phone.
(End of Chapter 14)