Yui Aihara had a plan. A very well-thought-out, strategically crafted, definitely-not-pitiful plan.
Step 1: Arrive at school ten minutes early.
Step 2: Casually pass the second-year hallway.
Step 3: Glance—not stare—at the second-year class window.
Step 4: Maybe, if the stars aligned, make brief eye contact with Ren Takamine.
Yui had never spoken to him before. Not properly, anyway. She was just a first-year—quiet, average, the type who never stood out. Ren-senpai, on the other hand, was… well, tall. And quiet. And awkward in a very endearing, aloof-prince way. He never said much in class, didn't have a ton of friends, and mostly kept to himself.
Which was perfect. Because Yui didn't want someone loud and popular. She wanted someone who might like reading in silence next to her. Someone who wouldn't mind her odd habits, like naming her stationery or pretending her rice balls had personalities.
So yes. She had a crush. A completely secret, one-sided crush.
...Or so she thought.
---
Meanwhile, Ren Takamine was currently hiding behind a hallway pillar.
He wasn't a stalker. He was just… cautious.
Every morning, at exactly 7:52 a.m., a small first-year girl with a pink bunny keychain on her bag walked past his classroom.
She always looked down, her face slightly red, clutching her bag like it might fly away if she loosened her grip.
And Ren Takamine, dignified second-year, master of emotional suppression, had no idea how to say "Hi."
He wasn't used to girls. Or talking. Or feelings.
He just knew that whenever he saw her, his brain melted a little and he forgot how to function. She was cute. Like, painfully cute. Like, "I might short-circuit if she looks directly at me" cute.
So naturally, his brain had come up with the brilliant idea of standing awkwardly in her path without a plan.
---
And that's exactly how disaster struck.
Yui, late for her "casual glance mission," hurried around the corner—just as Ren stepped out from behind the pillar. They collided like two anxious deer.
Her bag slipped. His binder flew. Her hand smacked his chest. His elbow bumped the wall. There was a sound, somewhere between a squeak and a yelp.
They both froze.
"I—I—I'm so sorry!" Yui squeaked, bowing deeply.
"N-no, it's my fault! I was… just… standing… here."
There was a long pause.
Then they both bent down at the same time to pick up her fallen pencil case, bonked heads, and sat back up with identical winces.
"Ow…" she said.
"Sorry again…" he mumbled.
Their eyes met.
Yui's brain: His eyes are so pretty I'm going to pass out.
Ren's brain: Abort mission. Too cute. System failure.
They both looked away at the same time.
Ren picked up her pencil case gently, his fingers brushing against hers as he handed it back.
"It's got a little… uh… bunny in a teacup?"
Yui blinked. "Oh—y-yeah! That's Mr. Hopsworth. He's… uh… my study buddy."
Ren smiled—a small, real smile. "That's cute."
Yui nearly died on the spot.
"Th-thank you…" she mumbled, cramming Mr. Hopsworth back into her bag before he embarrassed her further.
There was another silence. Not heavy or awkward—just soft.
Ren scratched the back of his neck. "Um… I'm Ren. Takamine."
"I know," she blurted, then covered her mouth. "I mean—I've heard… I mean—I'm not a stalker! I swear!"
He chuckled softly. "I'm glad."
Glad? Why was he glad?! Did that mean he didn't mind if she was a stalker? No, wait, that's not the point—
"I'm Yui. Aihara."
"I know," he said.
Wait… what?
They stared at each other again.
"W-well, I should go!" Yui stammered, turning around. "Thanks for not… filing a report or anything!"
Ren watched her scamper off, her bag bouncing, Mr. Hopsworth's ears peeking out from the zipper.
He let out a slow breath and leaned against the wall, heart pounding.
She talked to me. And I didn't combust. Progress.
---
Later that night…
Yui's "Senpai Progress Log" – Entry #1:
> Crashed into him. Full-body collision.
Said my pencil case had a name.
He smiled. At me.
I think I ascended.
Progress: 10%
Dignity: RIP
Ren's "Definitely-Not-About-Her Journal" – Entry #1:
> Her name's Yui. She has a bunny pencil case.
She smells like strawberries and panic.
I like her voice.
Don't mess this up.