The soft glow of the moon filtered through the attic window, painting Akari's small, secluded space in shades of silver and grey. She sat on a worn rug, her back to the window, the cool night air a familiar comfort against her skin. Moonlight illuminated the intricate network of scars that crisscrossed her back – thick, raised lines that told a story she never spoke. Her dark eyes, usually so calm behind her glasses, shimmered with a fleeting, unsettling crimson hue for a moment, a silent acknowledgment of the dormant power within. She closed her eyes, the warmth of the day's interaction with Jade a surprising flicker in her otherwise cold, calculating mind.
The next day, the university cafeteria buzzed with the usual midday chaos. Akari, clutching her tray with a perfectly balanced meal, scanned the crowded room. She spotted Kenji waving her over to a table where he and a few other group members were already seated. And, of course, Jade was there, her emerald hair a beacon in the sea of students. She was laughing, her head thrown back, as a new girl with bright red hair playfully tugged at her sleeve.
Akari walked over, her movements fluid and economical, a stark contrast to her outwardly clumsy demeanor. She placed her tray down and settled into the seat next to Kenji, across from Jade.
"Hey, Akari," Kenji greeted warmly. "Jade was just telling us about her disastrous attempt at baking last night."
Jade rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "It was not disastrous, Kenji, just… structurally unsound. A minor architectural flaw." She winked at the red-haired girl, who giggled.
Akari watched, her expression unreadable. She noted the ease with which Jade drew others in, the magnetic pull she exerted. It was fascinating, a different kind of power than what Akari was used to observing.
"So, Four-Eyes, any brilliant insights on edible engineering?" Jade suddenly piped up, her gaze shifting to Akari. There was that teasing lilt again, but this time Akari detected a hint of genuine curiosity beneath it.
Akari met Jade's eyes, her own dark ones unwavering. "Baking requires precise chemical reactions and structural integrity," she stated plainly, her voice calm. "Lack of either will result in collapse. It is a matter of science, not just artistry."
A beat of silence followed her blunt statement. Kenji snickered, trying to hide it, while the red-haired girl looked a little bewildered. Jade, however, actually laughed, a genuine, clear sound that made a few heads turn.
"See?" Jade clapped her hands together playfully. "I told you I was an architect, not a chef!" She turned back to Akari, her emerald eyes sparkling. "So, you're saying I need to treat my brownies like I'm designing a skyscraper? Got it, professor."
Akari tilted her head slightly. "If you wish for them to remain upright, yes." Her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, a hint of a rare, small smile. She felt surprisingly comfortable in Jade's presence, the older girl's casual teasing feeling more like an acknowledgment than a slight.
As they ate, the conversation drifted. Jade continued to charm, flitting between various topics, making everyone at the table feel at ease. Akari noticed the casual way Jade's hand brushed the red-haired girl's arm, the intimate whisper she shared, confirming her continued prolific dating life. Yet, for Akari, it held no emotional weight. Her objective was simply to observe, to understand.
Later, the topic of the literature project came up again. Jade groaned dramatically. "Honestly, I still don't get why that author insists on using so many obscure metaphors. It's like he's actively trying to confuse us."
Akari, who had been quietly eating, looked up. "He's not trying to confuse you. He's challenging your perception. The obscurity forces you to engage on a deeper level, to seek meaning beyond the superficial." Her voice was steady, insightful, devoid of any shyness.
Jade blinked, her confident façade faltering for a split second. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her full attention fixed on Akari. "Okay, Four-Eyes. Explain it to me, then. In layman's terms, because my brain is currently running on fumes and bad coffee."
Akari considered her for a moment, then began to elaborate on the author's work, connecting abstract concepts to relatable examples. She spoke with a quiet authority, her deep black eyes focused, missing nothing. She didn't use jargon; instead, she simplified complex ideas with surprising clarity. Her expressions were perfect, reflecting the nuances of her explanation, though sometimes a stray strand of hair would fall across her face, betraying a slight disarray.
Jade found herself utterly captivated. It wasn't just Akari's intelligence; it was the unexpected directness, the complete lack of pretense. There was no flattery, no attempt to impress. Akari simply was, and her mind worked in a way Jade had never encountered. A faint blush crept onto Jade's cheeks as she realized she was staring, completely mesmerized.
"Wow," Jade finally breathed out when Akari finished, her voice softer than usual. "Okay. That… actually makes sense. You're really good at that, you know?"
Akari merely nodded, taking a sip of her water. "It is logical."
"No, it's more than logical," Jade insisted, a genuine smile replacing her usual playful grin. She found herself feeling strangely at ease, and yet, simultaneously, a little nervous. Akari's bluntness, her profound depth, was disarming. It wasn't just her intelligence, but an underlying strength that Jade couldn't quite pinpoint. She felt a compelling urge to peel back the layers of this quiet, glasses-wearing enigma.
As the cafeteria noise swelled around them, Jade found herself unexpectedly drawn into Akari's orbit, a peculiar shift in dynamics she hadn't anticipated. Akari, for her part, simply continued to observe, a silent protector already forming in the shadows of her mind. She knew what Jade was, and for some inexplicable reason, she found herself intrigued enough to stay close.