Later that day, Aiko dragged herself into the canteen beside Yui, her energy drained like a deflated balloon. She looked as though she'd fought a battle and lost.
"So?" Yui asked the moment they sat down. "What happened in the mafia meeting?"
Aiko stared into her coffee as though it held the answers to the universe. "He made me his… emotional slave. For a month."
Yui choked mid-bite on her samosa. "Excuse me?"
Aiko groaned and explained everything—Haruki's terms, the rules, the conditions, the threat of romantic tension dressed as 'education.'
Yui nearly cried laughing. "You have to avoid Kaito? Girl, he's already acting like a jealous boyfriend."
"He's not," Aiko mumbled, cheeks burning. "He just—"
"—wants your full attention, all your time, and no competition?" Yui tilted her head. "That's a classic rom-com relationship contract, babe."
Aiko didn't respond. She just sighed into her cup.
That night, Aiko lay in bed, curled around her pillow as though bracing herself for a storm. Her eyes remained open, fixed on the ceiling above her. "Just one month. That's all. No more. I won't fall for him… I won't."
Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Haruki Takeda sat by his window, arms folded, gaze distant. The night sky stretched wide above him, starlit and quiet, like something out of a drama.
"She agreed," he murmured. "She's mine for a month. Now, Alex… don't mess it up."
He smiled faintly.
"Let the countdown begin."
Morning arrived like a slap in the face.
Aiko stumbled into class, her stomach tied in anxious knots. This was Day One of her so-called punishment—Haruki's twisted plan masked as an academic arrangement.
She plopped down into her front-row seat with all the grace of someone being dragged into battle. Yui, seated beside her and already unwrapping a chocolate bar at 8:30 in the morning, gave her a knowing glance.
"You look like someone just got engaged to a math textbook."
"Close," Aiko muttered. "Worse. I signed an unofficial contract of doom."
Yui blinked. "What?"
Before Aiko could expand, Haruki strolled into the room, humming faintly under his breath. His shirt was crisp, his tie slightly crooked, and his energy—alarming. The moment he stepped in, his eyes found Aiko's.
"Good morning, class," he greeted, voice light.
"Good morning, sir," the students chorused.
Aiko smiled weakly, doing her best to avoid his gaze, but Haruki looked far too pleased. Mischief practically radiated off him.
Inside her mind, Aiko was already spiraling.
Don't look at him. Don't react. Don't smile. Don't blush. Oh no. He's looking again. He's smiling. Why is he smiling?
For the next twenty minutes, Haruki glanced her way so many times she lost count. Each time his eyes lingered, her heart raced and her ears burned.
Then, just when she thought it couldn't get worse, Kaito Fujimoto entered the room with his usual easy charm. His uniform was neat, his smile effortless.
"Hey, Aiko," he said, slipping into his seat beside her. "Good morning."
Aiko froze.
The plan. The contract. The doom.
She forced a small, almost robotic smile. "Uhm… hi." Then she turned abruptly to the blackboard, pretending the quadratic formula was the most captivating thing on Earth.
Kaito tilted his head, visibly confused. "Did I… do something?"
"No! I mean—nothing! I just—I want to focus. Laser-sharp focus. Today's a serious day."
From the front, Haruki lowered the book he was pretending to read, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
She's doing it, he thought. She's really doing it. This plan is perfect.
Later in the class, Haruki turned to the board and wrote out a complex equation.
"Aiko, why don't you come solve this one?"
Of course. Of course he would call on her.
Aiko rose stiffly, legs wobbling like she was on stilts. She could feel Kaito's gaze full of concern and confusion on one side—and Haruki's on the other, watching with amusement like a cat playing with a mouse.
She scribbled the solution, praying for her hand to stop shaking. It wasn't her best work, but it was correct enough.
"Good job," Haruki said with a casual nod.
And then—he winked.
Aiko stumbled back to her seat, barely keeping upright.
Kaito leaned in. "Okay, seriously… what's going on between you and the teacher?"
She choked. "N-nothing! I'm just—studying really hard!"
At the front, Haruki leaned back in his chair and sipped from his water bottle, completely relaxed.
Oh, Kaito. You're so late to the party.
After class, Yui cornered her before she could escape. "You're avoiding Kaito like he has a contagious flu. Did Haruki curse you or something?"
Aiko glanced around, lowering her voice. "I made a deal with the devil."
Yui narrowed her eyes. "You what—"
"Not literally. I mean Haruki. He said I have to avoid Kaito for a whole month and follow his instructions."
Yui looked at her like she was an alien. "Like… obedience training?"
"Please don't phrase it like that."
But Yui just laughed, clearly enjoying this mess far more than she should. "I ship it harder now."
Later that day, Aiko sat under the tree near the quad with her lunch. Just as she was unwrapping her sandwich, Kaito appeared, lunchbox in hand.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked.
She panicked.
Before she could respond, Haruki materialized like a ghost from behind.
"Aiko, I forgot to give you this worksheet," he said, voice smooth, but his eyes were sharp.
He handed her a sheet. Their fingers brushed.
And for a moment—everything in her chest sparked.
"Oh—thank you, sir—"
"No problem. Just make sure you understand it," Haruki replied, lingering just a second too long.
Kaito looked between the two of them, brow furrowing. "Is… everything alright?"
Haruki smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Perfectly fine."
Aiko's voice came out in a whisper. "I'm not fine."
That evening, Aiko flopped face-down onto her bed, the worksheet lying next to her like a cursed artifact. Her phone buzzed.
Yui:How's it going with Sir Bossy Control Freak?
Aiko:He winked at me in class. I nearly died.
Yui:So you're saying the plan is working???
Aiko:Don't encourage this nonsense.
Yui:Toxic romance is the best romance.
Aiko threw the phone aside and stared at the ceiling.
Haruki had looked so serious when he handed her that contract. But under all the teasing, under the smirks and glances and silent rules, she felt something real.
Something dangerous.
Something magnetic.
And worst of all?
She didn't mind it.
Meanwhile, at his apartment, Haruki lay back on the couch, arms folded behind his head, eyes on the ceiling.
"She followed every rule. Avoided Kaito. Sat in the front. Blushed exactly seven times. Smiled once."
He grinned to himself.
"This is going to be a very interesting month."
He reached for his phone, hesitated, then put it down.
"Not yet. Let her wonder a little longer."