The school day was winding down.
The final bell rang, chairs scraped across the floor, and the room stirred with the familiar chaos of bags unzipped and homework assignments traded like contraband. Saito Kagami packed his books methodically, slipping notebooks into the same precise order he always did.
Then he saw it.
Nestled between his math workbook and a spare folder was a slim, slightly worn notebook. The one from the beginning of the year. Its black cover was scuffed at the corners, and the thin rubber band keeping it closed had stretched loose.
He pulled it out slowly and opened it.
Page one: "Objective: Understand the logic behind love. Parameters to observe: Behavior, emotional shifts, key variables in attraction."
His handwriting was neat, clinical. There were diagrams, labeled scenarios, hypothetical outcomes.
Saito stared at the page for a long moment.
He had forgotten about this. Forgotten the mission that had started his high school journey.
Forgotten… because it no longer felt like a mission.
He turned the pages, seeing notes on early interactions with classmates—his observations of Riko, snippets of dialogue, questions about the intent behind her teasing. The further he flipped, the messier the entries became. Fewer diagrams. More question marks.
Then it just… stopped.
The last entry was from before the beach trip.
He set the book down on his desk, resting his elbows beside it, and stared out the window.
Riko's laugh. Shun's nonsense. Mari's chaos. Ryouta's awkward jokes. Kana's sarcasm.
They weren't just Riko's friends anymore.
They were his friends.
He understood now—why he had stopped writing in the book. Why he had let the 'objective' slip. It wasn't that he'd failed to solve love as a problem… it was that he had stopped seeing it as one.
There was no formula. No universal logic to explain the beat of his heart when Riko laughed too loudly. Or the quiet comfort of walking beside her. Or the unease that crept in when he overheard things he shouldn't have.
The most fun he'd had was when he wasn't trying to understand it.
Saito closed the notebook.
And for the first time since the year began, he smiled alone in his classroom.
The next morning brought rain.
Not a heavy storm—just a soft, steady curtain of water that painted the world in shades of gray. Puddles collected on the path to school, and the rhythmic patter against rooftops made everything feel slower.
The city around him blurred behind the droplets.
As he approached the school gates, he saw her.
Riko stood under the overhang at the school entrance, arms crossed, brow furrowed. Her bag was dry, but the ends of her hair were beginning to curl with damp.
She looked up at the sound of footsteps.
"Yo," she said.
"You forgot your umbrella."
"Yup. Overslept. My alarm betrayed me."
Saito stepped beside her and held out the umbrella.
"We can share."
She blinked. "Huh? Seriously?"
"Yes."
Riko chuckled. "Did not expect you to be the knight-in-shining-umbrella today."
They walked together slowly. The umbrella was just wide enough to keep them both dry, but only barely.
As they neared a crosswalk, Riko started talking about her friends.
"So Mari thinks Shun and Kana are secretly into each other, which is hilarious because they argue like siblings. And apparently, Kana left a can of soda on Shun's desk with a smiley note, and he thought it was poisoned."
Saito glanced at her.
"I see."
"She told him it was cola. It was actually vinegar water. So I guess he wasn't wrong."
A small laugh escaped Saito before he caught himself. Riko caught it too.
"Oh my god. Was that a laugh?"
"No."
"Yes, it was. Kagami laughed. Mark the date."
But as the clouds thickened, the light drizzle grew heavier. Rain started pelting sideways, forcing them into a nearby convenience store for shelter.
"Great," Riko muttered, pulling her phone from her bag. "This is getting serious. I'll call my mom."
Saito watched the windows fog as she spoke quickly on the phone.
"She's on her way," Riko said, pocketing her phone. "And you're coming with."
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are. I'm not letting you get pneumonia on my watch."
"…Understood."
There was a quiet moment as they stood beside the small display of instant ramen.
"I like you."
Riko froze.
"…What?"
"I like you," he repeated, tone steady but low. "Romantically. I believe it's been that way for some time now."
Her mouth opened. Then closed.
"I've never been good at… this. You once told me I could talk to you if something was bothering me."
Riko stared at him. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hands gripped her bag tightly.
"This...better not be a joke..."
"I don't do jokes..."
Riko was silent, Then-
"I… I like you too...like alot..."
The silence between them stretched, warm and buzzing. Neither knew what to say next.
Then the honk of a car outside startled them.
"That's her," Riko said quickly.
They stepped out into the rain together.
Her mom rolled down the window. "Hop in, both of you."
As they climbed into the car, the silence between them wasn't awkward anymore.
It was charged.
Full.