Masao pinched his chin, tilting his head as he regarded Yukinoshita. "So... does this count as a date?"
Yukinoshita's reply was perfectly serene. "It's merely a routine outing."
Turning to Chika Fujiwara with a look of resignation, Masao said, "You see? That's her story."
Kaguya Shinomiya's eyes narrowed to slits as she dissected the scene in her mind.
'Anyone with eyes can see that this is a date. Only a fool would believe otherwise. Still, their dynamic is clear—this Yukinoshita girl holds all the cards. I should take notes on her technique for managing a man.'
Just as this thought crystallized, a bubbly, guileless voice shattered her analysis.
"Ohhh, so it's not a date? I was so sure you were a couple!" Chika's face fell, her disappointment palpable. 'Aww, no juicy drama to enjoy.'
Kaguya's mental avatar stared, dumbfounded, at Chika.
'...You can't possibly be that naive. Can you?'
"Well, you won't mind if we tag along, then, right?" Chika chirped, launching her signature group-invitation once more.
Masao glanced at Yukinoshita, seeking her opinion. While not a social butterfly, she was far from incapable of socializing.
Noting his silent inquiry, she stated, "I have no objections. The decision is yours."
Masao nodded.
"In that case, Fujiwara-senpai, we'd be happy to have you along."
"Yay!"
Their "group outing" quickly settled into a simple pattern: watching the pandas.
Masao found himself planted squarely in the middle, with Yukinoshita and Jahy on his left, and Chika, Kaguya, and their companion on his right.
Surrounded by six girls, the very air seemed sweeter, charged with a rare and delightful perfume. A sudden, brilliant clarity dawned on Masao.
'Hold on. This setup... being encircled by a bevy of beauties... isn't this the classic anime protagonist's blessing?'
True, he'd only just met half of them, but that minor detail did nothing to diminish his burgeoning sense of achievement.
'Hmm, but wait. In every story, when the female cast converges like this, shouldn't there be sparks flying? The subtle barbs, the veiled hostility, the simmering jealousy that threatens to boil over into outright war... Or maybe more directly, someone would just produce a hatchet and decide to end the narrative permanently?'
He risked a glance at his companions. The scene was peaceful, even congenial.
'Unless... I really am the fated harem protagonist!'
The far more logical explanation—that neither Yukinoshita nor Chika Fujiwara harbored any romantic interest in him, thus eliminating any reason for rivalry—never once entered his mind.
'Get real! I'm Yukinoshita's one and only friend. I walk her home daily and I'm the 'cute kouhai' Fujiwara-senpai is always messaging. My charm is obviously irresistible. Although... why does the idea of a yandere with a hatchet seem so... thrilling?'
The more he indulged the fantasy, the more his excitement grew, a goofy, self-satisfied grin threatening to break through his carefully neutral expression. Just as the corners of his mouth began to twitch upward, a voice cut through his reverie.
Chika Fujiwara leaned into his space, her curiosity piqued. "Masao-kun, are you and Yukinoshita in the same class?"
"We attend the same school," he clarified.
"But not the same class?" she pressed, her intuition unexpectedly sharp.
"No," he confirmed.
"So how did you meet?"
The question was barely out of her mouth before she gasped, throwing a hand up to stop him.
"Wait! Don't tell me! Let me guess!"
Masao was baffled. "What's there to guess?"
"Deduction is half the fun! The reveal is so much more satisfying when you puzzle it out yourself!"
"Fine, have at it."
Masao shrugged. It was her mental energy to waste. Besides, he was curious to hear what scenario she would concoct.
Hearing herself become the topic of discussion, Yukinoshita also turned her attention their way.
Chika struck a classic thinking pose, left hand pinching her chin.
"I've got it! It's the classic 'Fated Hallway Collision!' Both of you were rushing, came around a corner too fast, and—bam!—you crashed into each other! And thus, a grand story began!"
Masao shook his head. "Incorrect."
Yukinoshita considered the image and nodded in agreement. "If Masao-kun were to collide with me, the result would be less of a 'story' and more of an 'incident report.'"
Hearing this, Chika's eyes flicked over Masao's tall, solid frame, and she nodded sagely.
'Being hit by him... you'd be lucky to escape with just a mild concussion.'
Watching them team up against him, Masao was mortified. "Hey! Stop talking about me like I'm some kind of human wrecking ball."
Undeterred, Chika moved to her next hypothesis.
"Then it has to be the 'Dropped Handkerchief' scenario! Yukinoshita-san's handkerchief flutters to the ground. Masao-kun, ever the gentleman, retrieves it and returns it, sparking a fateful connection!"
"My handkerchief... picked up by Masao-kun?" Yukinoshita pondered this new possibility with grave seriousness before delivering her verdict. "I have a feeling any handkerchief picked up by Masao-kun would find a new, permanent owner."
"That's so true! Masao-kouhai, you are forbidden from doing anything strange with a girl's handkerchief, understand?" Chika lectured him, her expression full of mock severity.
Seeing them unite on this absurd front, Masao's indignation boiled over.
"Will you two quit it? Why are you ganging up on me over this? And since when am I so untrustworthy? Fine! Drop your handkerchiefs right here, right now! Let's conduct a live experiment to prove my honorable intentions!"
Yukinoshita protectively covered her pocket. "My apologies. I cannot, in good conscience, risk my personal belongings for this."
Chika's eyes darted shiftily, a picture of poorly feigned innocence. "Masao-kun, what if I told you I, uh, didn't bring a handkerchief today?"
"I'd say hell just froze over," he grumbled. "You're a real piece of work, Fujiwara-senpai..."
Her guesses are terrifyingly accurate.
Masao's Internal Monologue: 'How? How did they both see straight through to the deepest, darkest recesses of my soul? But come on, it's just a handkerchief. Even if one did fall into my possession... I would absolutely... return it... eventually. Probably. Maybe. At the very least... I'd return it before anyone found out…'
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