(Tamaki's POV)
The library was supposed to be a place of quiet productivity. A sanctuary of discipline and focus.
And yet-
"We need to finalize the activities for the festival... the gaming booths, the performances, and the-"
I stopped mid-sentence, my brows twitching as I took in the sight before me.
Across from me, seated with all the energy of a cat napping in the sun, was Rem Kotsuki. His head was propped up by his hand, his eyes half-lidded as if he had been forced to attend a lecture on paint drying.
Was he... was he actually dozing off?!
My patience thinned.
"Are you even listening, Kotsuki?"
He hummed lazily in response, cracking open one eye before stretching like this was some kind of inconvenience to him.
"Hmm?" he drawled, lips tugging into that insufferable lazy grin. He waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, something about an event or performance, right?"
I inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to reach across the table and shake him. Instead, I pinched the bridge of my nose and muttered under my breath, more to myself than to him-
"How did I end up with you as my partner?"
Unfortunately, he heard me.
A smirk crept onto his face.
"Huh? What was that?"
I exhaled slowly through my nose, fixing him with a glare.
"Shinomiya-sensei announced to the class that my partner would be a person of similar ability and capability as me," I said, my tone clipped, precise. "And somehow, I ended up with... you."*
The words felt physically painful to say.
Kotsuki, of course, seemed thoroughly entertained by my suffering.
His smirk widened as he leaned back in his chair.
"Ahh, maybe the school saw my hidden genius. Wouldn't be a surprise there."
I scoffed. "Hidden genius? More like-"
THUD.
A heavy textbook landed right next to me, making me jolt in my seat.
I turned sharply, only to see the librarian, an elderly woman with glasses perched precariously on the bridge of her nose, peering down at us with a look that could end careers.
"Silence in the library," she intoned.
I immediately straightened, bowing my head slightly. "Apologies."
I waited for her to shuffle away before shooting Kotsuki a look.
"This is your fault," I whispered sharply.
"Eh? How is this my fault?" he whispered back, mirroring my tone with exaggerated innocence. "You're the one getting all worked up."
I opened my mouth-then closed it. No. He's baiting me. Again.
I needed to get this planning over with before I actually lost my composure.
"Fine," I huffed, flipping through the papers. "Let's get back to work. We still need to finalize the festival booths. Do you have any input whatsoever?"
Kotsuki tapped a finger to his chin, as if in deep thought, before his face lit up with faux enthusiasm.
"How about a napping booth?"
I stared at him.
"A what?"
"A napping booth," he repeated, perfectly serious. "A place for students to take a break, recharge. You know, in the spirit of the festival and all that."
I blinked. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"Is it?" He gestured vaguely with a lazy wave of his hand. "Studies show that short naps improve productivity. Just think, Nanase-people would be thanking us for our innovation. Future generations will look back on this festival and say, 'Wow, those two were truly ahead of their time.'"
I put my head in my hands. "Kotsuki, I swear-"
"Oh, oh! Or how about a booth where people can bet on how long you'll last before snapping at me? We could even set up a leaderboard!"
I closed my eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Do not throw the clipboard at his head.
"Forget it," I said flatly. "We're moving on."
I turned my focus back to the festival plans, flipping the page with definitive force.
A moment of silence passed.
Then-
"So... is that a no on the napping booth?"
I finally grabbed my clipboard and smacked him with it.
The sharp thwack of my clipboard against Rem's arm was deeply satisfying.
For a brief moment, he just blinked, as if genuinely surprised that I had retaliated. He opened his mouth—probably to tease me again—but I silenced him with a glare, one that left no room for further nonsense.
There. That should finally shut him up.
…Or so I thought.
Because not a moment later, that same knowing smirk crept back onto his lips, softer this time, less of his usual infuriating arrogance and more—something else.
"Ahh, how about a dance, then? As the final event?"
I stilled, my pen hovering over the paper as I met his gaze.
"A dance?"
I studied him carefully, trying to decipher whether this was another one of his ridiculous ploys to get a reaction out of me or if—for once—he was actually being serious.
But as always, Rem Kotsuki gave nothing away.
His expression remained unreadable, save for the subtle curve of his lips as he lazily waved a hand.
"Yeah, something to take their minds off the usual monotonous activities that come with the festival… Knowing you…"
He paused, tilting his head slightly, eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to amusement.
"You obviously didn't set up any fun or extracurricular activities to go with the festival, did you?"
My grip on my pen tightened.
That single, offhanded remark hit deeper than it should have.
Because he was right.
Annoyingly, infuriatingly right.
I wasn't someone who did things halfway—I never had been. If I was given a task, I would see it through with nothing less than my utmost ability. Efficiency. Professionalism. Precision. That was the way I had always done things.
There was no time for unnecessary distractions. No time for foolish detours. No time for frivolous things like—like school dances.
And yet, somehow, he had seen right through me.
This boy.
This lazy, nonchalant, insufferable boy who spent half his time pretending he didn't care about anything had, in the span of a few minutes, managed to unravel something I hadn't even admitted to myself.
I hated that.
I hated how easily he did that.
I was this close—this close—to rejecting the idea on the spot, just to spite him. Just to wipe that smirk off his face.
But I didn't.
Because even I couldn't deny it.
A dance was a good idea.
A really good idea.
I hesitated, my brows furrowing in thought, my fingers tightening around the clipboard as I debated whether I could just brush past this moment and move on. But when I flicked my gaze back up, I froze slightly.
There it was again.
That same infuriatingly lazy smirk, as if he already knew what my answer would be. As if he had already won.
I grit my teeth. Rein it in, Tamaki.
"You're not wrong," I finally admitted, forcing the words out.
The moment the words left my lips, Rem's smile shifted—just slightly.
It wasn't triumphant. It wasn't smug.
It was… softer.
"Ahh," he murmured, leaning back in his chair. "That's why you have to give them something to look forward to… something beyond the mundane routines of life and fleeting lessons. A chance to make memories that will stick with them much longer than trigonometry triples ever would."
I swallowed.
Why did that… feel oddly personal?
The way he said it, the weight behind his words—it wasn't just a casual suggestion.
It was something he believed in.
Something he had thought about before.
Something that lingered beneath that easygoing, indifferent mask of his.
Just who are you, Rem Kotsuki?
A quiet pang settled in my chest, one I didn't quite know how to place.
Because deep down, beneath all my rigid expectations and carefully structured plans… I wanted that, too.
The urge was there. Buried. But there nonetheless.
That long-forgotten, foolish little dream of something more.
For a second—just a second—I wondered what it would be like.
To let go.
To stray from the path I had so carefully paved for myself.
To allow myself to enjoy something for once.
I clenched my jaw, pushing back the feeling before it could take root.
"Fine," I muttered, gripping my pen so tightly it nearly snapped.
Rem's smirk widened just a fraction.
And somehow, somehow, that single word felt like I had just lost something to him.
Rem grinned lazily, his expression practically begging to be slapped off his face.
"Huh? What was that?"
I clicked my tongue in annoyance, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Don't rub it in. I just meant that it was a plausible idea. And coming from you, it just caught me off guard, that's all."
His smirk widened ever so slightly, his amusement practically radiating off of him.
"Ahh, well then, that's a relief. I was half-expecting you to shut down the idea in a calculated attempt to spite me… Seems like I was wrong."
My brow twitched. He was baiting me again.
It would have been so easy to snap back at him, to fall into his rhythm like I always did. But no. Not this time. Not when I had already given him the satisfaction of agreeing with him.
Instead, I inhaled slowly, schooling my features into a calm, measured expression.
"However, if we're doing this, there will be no room for improvisation. No half-measures. If we commit, we see this through to the end—"
"Yeah, yeah."
He cut me off with a nonchalant wave of his hand, as if my words were merely background noise.
I barely resisted the urge to throw my clipboard at him.
Standing up from his seat, he stretched lazily before flashing me another easygoing grin.
"Ahh, I guess I'll leave the hassle-filled parts to you, then… I'll just stick around and make sure it becomes a night to remember."
He slid his chair back into place before turning toward the exit, his movements as unhurried as ever.
"Later, Nanase."
And just like that, he was gone.
I exhaled sharply, rubbing my temples.
That boy was going to be the death of me.
---
(Rem's POV)
By the time I stepped out of the library, the sky had already begun its slow descent into twilight. The sun bled across the horizon in soft shades of orange and gold, painting the world in a hazy warmth.
I took a deep breath, letting the cool evening air settle around me.
My lips curled into the faintest of smiles as I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else—
"Ahh, I almost thought you'd forgotten, Tamaki… how to live."
The words lingered in the quiet breeze before fading away, carried off into the evening hum of the campus.
With my hands tucked loosely into my pockets, I strolled leisurely toward the dormitories, my steps unhurried.
The world around me was alive with movement—students pouring out of malls, chatting animatedly outside restaurants, laughing in small clusters as they made their way back from late-night plans.
I watched them for a moment.
Then I looked away.
I never really saw the appeal.
Would there ever be a group of people who saw past this carefully crafted mask of mine?
...Na.
I pushed the thought aside and kept walking.
As I passed by the basketball court, the rhythmic sound of dribbling caught my ear.
A group of players moved across the court in a blur of motion, their movements sharp and precise. Among them, a particular figure stood out—messy brown hair, an infectious grin, and a natural ease in the way he carried himself.
Effortlessly weaving through the defense, he rallied his team together with a mix of skill and unwavering energy.
I found myself watching for a while, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
Then, without a word, I turned away and continued toward the dormitory.
---
By the time I reached the entrance, the dormitory lounge was nearly deserted. Most students were still out, basking in the fleeting moments of freedom before another school day began.
I stepped into the elevator at the back of the room, letting the soft hum of the machinery fill the silence as it carried me upward.
With a quiet chime, the doors slid open onto my floor.
Making my way down the corridor, I stopped in front of Room 34, retrieving my key and slotting it into the lock with practiced ease.
The door clicked open.
Stepping inside, I shut it behind me, shrugging off my uniform as I grabbed a towel from the nearby rack.
The shower water was cold, but I didn't mind.
It washed away the weight of the day—the lingering thoughts, the teasing banter, the quiet moments that stuck longer than they should have.
For a while, I simply stood there, letting the chill seep into my skin.
Then, with a quiet sigh, I stepped out, towel-drying my hair before slipping into my night robe.
Collapsing onto the bed, I stared at the ceiling, listening to the steady hum of the air conditioner.
There was no anticipation for tomorrow. No excitement for what was to come.
Just the familiar pull of sleep, dragging me under.
And so, without a second thought, I closed my eyes—
And let the night take me.
--
(The next day...)
Ahh, what a lovely morning it is.
Not that I had any real investment in mornings to begin with.
The hum of idle chatter filled the classroom as students settled in, the golden sunlight spilling lazily through the windows. I let my gaze drift outside, watching the leaves sway in the breeze, my mind half-drifting along with them.
Then, as expected—
"Oh, and how is the planning for the festival coming along?"
Shinomiya-sensei's voice rang through the room, bright and pleasant as ever.
I didn't have to look to know who she was speaking to.
"It's all proceeding smoothly, although..."
Even without turning my head, I could feel the shift in energy. That slight pause, the almost imperceptible flicker of irritation in her composed tone.
Curious, I finally glanced toward the front of the class.
Tamaki, ever the picture of perfection, sat with her usual upright posture, her expression poised. But there—just for a second—her gaze darted toward me, and in that moment, a sharp glint of annoyance flashed in her eyes.
A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.
"It would be a lot simpler if everyone was as motivated to help out."
There it was.
My cue.
Slowly, deliberately, I turned my head to meet her gaze, my smirk widening just enough to be insufferable.
"Ahh, unfortunately for you, I don't do simple... I do me."
I let the words roll out lazily, my tone light yet deliberate. And with that, I turned my attention back to the window, as if the conversation had already ceased to be of any interest to me.
The murmurs started almost immediately.
"Huh? Is it just me, or do they seem particularly cold to each other?"
"It's almost like they despise each other."
"Lazy boy aside, Tamaki definitely doesn't seem to like him."
Lazy boy, huh?
How convenient.
My smirk deepened ever so slightly.
Across the room, Shinomiya-sensei observed the exchange with a bright smile, though I caught the subtle amusement lingering at the edges of her lips. Our eyes met briefly, and in that fleeting moment, there was something knowing in her gaze—like she was entertained by a joke no one else had quite caught onto.
Then, with her usual cheer, she turned on her heel, waving as she made her way toward the door.
"Ahh, enjoy your day, class. And make sure to get along with everyone, alright?"
And with that, she was gone, leaving behind the quiet hum of tension still lingering in the air.
I stretched lazily, suppressing a yawn as the first period officially began.
Ahh, another day, another game to play.
The day dragged on like it always did.
Math, history, English—they all blurred together into the same monotony. I sat through each lesson, my gaze drifting toward the window more often than the board. The occasional murmur about Tamaki's irritation reached my ears, but I paid it no mind.
It wasn't anything new.
And then, finally—
Lunch break.
A small, lazy smile tugged at my lips as I stood up, stretching slightly before slipping into the usual tide of students eager to escape the confines of the classroom.
The cafeteria was as lively as ever, packed with groups of students chatting, laughing, and going about their routines. My gaze swept across the room briefly before I made my way to the counter.
Ramen and takoyaki. Simple enough.
After grabbing a bottle of water, I strolled toward an empty table, my movements unhurried, as if I had all the time in the world. Settling into my seat, I pulled out my phone, scrolling through it absentmindedly while the sounds of the cafeteria buzzed around me.
Then—
"Yo! Mind if I sit here?"
The voice was bright, cheerful—full of energy I wasn't sure I had the patience for.
I flicked my gaze up lazily.
Standing before me was a guy with messy brown hair and an easy-going smile. One of the more outgoing types, probably. The kind of person who had no trouble slipping into any conversation, making friends wherever he went.
With a lazy wave of my hand, I gestured toward the seat across from me, my attention already drifting back to my phone.
"Na, go ahead."
There was a brief pause—probably from my blatant indifference—but then, he sat down anyway, still smiling.
"Man, you're hard to figure out. You don't talk much, but everyone's curious about you. Even Tamaki Nanase seemed a bit ticked off earlier. What's your deal with her?"
At that, I couldn't help but smirk.
Ahh, so people were watching. Not surprising.
"Nothing at all," I replied, my tone light and unconcerned. "She's just persistent."
He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Persistent, huh? Good luck with that. She's not someone you want to get on the wrong side of."
I let out a soft laugh, my expression as relaxed as ever.
"Ahh, sure thing. I'll keep that in mind."
Then, after a moment, I glanced up from my phone, letting my gaze settle on him.
"Rem," I said simply.
His grin widened, his eyes practically shining with enthusiasm.
"And I'm Haruto Aizawa."
I hummed, taking another bite of my food.
Huh.
Interesting guy.
The cafeteria was its usual chaotic mess—voices overlapping, laughter spilling from different corners, trays clattering against tables.
And then, amidst the noise, a shift.
Tamaki walked in.
She wasn't alone, of course. A small group of students followed, orbiting around her like satellites. They weren't friends—not yet. Just admirers drawn in by her presence.
Even from across the room, it was obvious she was the center of their conversation. The girls around her leaned in excitedly, their voices animated, but Tamaki remained composed. Always composed. Answering with polite smiles and brief responses, never giving too much away.
Haruto and I both glanced toward her table.
"You've got this sort of chill vibe around you, man," Haruto said, pulling my attention back. "Like you're not the type to be stressing over school stuff, huh?"
I smiled, the picture of ease.
"Something like that. No point in overthinking things."
He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Ahh, I wish I could have that kind of mindset."
His gaze flicked back toward Tamaki, thoughtful.
"But people like Tamaki, they're on a whole other level… It's like she's got everything figured out."
My eyes drifted back to her table as well.
Focused, huh?
"Yeah," I murmured. "She does seem focused."
Haruto leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.
"Focused? She's practically a machine. But hey, what's with her glaring at you earlier? Did you two have some kind of argument?"
I smirked lazily, leaning back in my chair with a slow, nonchalant wave.
"Not really. Guess I don't fit her idea of a perfect classmate."
Haruto grinned.
"Well, you're definitely not the type to blend in, even if you try. People are already talking about you, you know?"
I shrugged, my expression never wavering.
"Let them talk. Doesn't change anything for me."
And just like that—
The school bell rang, slicing through the cafeteria chatter.
Lunch was over.
With a slow stretch, I stood up, slinging my bag over my shoulder. Haruto got up as well, still smiling.
"You're an interesting guy, Rem. Let's stick together. You might even make school fun."
I raised a brow, amusement flickering across my face.
"Fun, huh?" A smirk tugged at my lips. "We'll see about that."
--
History class was the usual brand of dull—half the students barely awake, the occasional yawn breaking the silence, and the steady scratching of pens that at least made it sound like people were paying attention.
At the front of the room, Fujimoto-sensei stood with his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, flipping through the pages of his textbook with the kind of quiet resignation that only a long-time teacher could master.
"Alright, class, turn to page 142. Today, we'll be covering the Meiji Restoration."
A collective shuffle of pages followed. I reached into my bag, fishing around for my textbook.
Notebook? Check.
Workbook? Check.
Pen? Check.
Eraser? Check.
Manga? Wait—
I paused.
That… wasn't right.
I blinked, tilting my head slightly as I rummaged through my bag again, slower this time.
Notebook. Workbook. Manga (again). No textbook.
Huh.
Well, that's unfortunate.
Before I could even process the consequences of my actions, I heard the inevitable.
"Kotsuki."
I lazily glanced up. Fujimoto-sensei was already looking at me, arms crossed, eyes sharp behind his glasses. I could see it in his face—he already knew.
"Where is your textbook?" His voice was level, but there was that underlying tone of a man bracing for impact.
I exhaled, leaning back in my chair.
"Ahh… about that. Seems I left it in my dorm room."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the class. Haruto, sitting beside me, barely held back a laugh, while up at the front, Tamaki Nanase—ever the diligent student—let out a deep, suffering sigh.
It sounded suspiciously like "Unbelievable."
Fujimoto-sensei pinched the bridge of his nose, the universal teacher signal for Why am I doing this?
"I see. And tell me, Kotsuki… how exactly do you plan to follow along without a textbook?"
I considered my options. Then, I flashed my usual lazy smile.
"Vivid imagination?"
Silence.
Then—
"Vivid imagin—?!" Fujimoto-sensei closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, probably counting to ten in his head.
The class burst into laughter.
Haruto clapped me on the back, grinning. "Dude, you're actually insane."
Fujimoto-sensei exhaled, scanning the room like a man searching for divine intervention.
"Does anyone have an extra textbook for this wandering philosopher?"
No one answered.
Then—
A shadow loomed over my desk.
A heavy thud as a textbook dropped onto my table.
I looked up.
Tamaki stood there, arms crossed, gaze sharp as ever.
"Just use mine," she said coolly.
I raised an eyebrow, smirking.
"Oh? Nanase, I didn't know you cared."
She shot me a pointed glare. "I don't. I just don't want your nonsense slowing down the class."
Haruto snickered. "Yeah, suuure, let's go with that."
I chuckled, flipping open the book at an unhurried pace.
"Much appreciated, Nanase-san."
Tamaki clicked her tongue, clearly regretting her decision already, while Fujimoto-sensei just shook his head in complete and utter defeat.
"Kotsuki… one day, you're going to give me an aneurysm."
The class exploded into laughter again, and just like that, history class continued.
Just another day of higher learning.
The end of history class couldn't have come sooner.
Not that I was in a hurry or anything—it was just that listening to Fujimoto-sensei's voice for too long had a way of turning everything into white noise. The only thing keeping me mildly entertained was the occasional glance from Tamaki, her sharp gaze sending a clear message: I regret giving you my textbook.
I, of course, took great pleasure in ignoring her silent complaints.
As the class wrapped up, the collective energy in the room shifted from sluggish boredom to quiet dread. Why?
Because our next stop was Chemistry.
A few students groaned as they packed their things, and I could already hear murmurs about how strict the teacher was supposed to be.
Beside me, Haruto kept pace as we strolled toward the lab, his usual grin in place.
"So, I heard the chemistry teacher is super strict," he said, tone carrying more amusement than concern. "Like, she doesn't tolerate any slackers. I guess we'll see if you can stay out of trouble, huh?"
I shrugged lazily, a small smile playing on my lips.
"I don't do trouble. Just keep it low-key, and everything works out."
The chemistry lab was already bustling with students when we arrived, the bright fluorescent lights making everything feel a little too clinical. The faint scent of chemicals lingered in the air, a sharp contrast to the usual musty textbook smell of the other classrooms.
At the front of the room, Ms. Hirano was already writing something on the chalkboard, her expression as rigid as the rumors had suggested. The second she turned around, her glasses caught the light in that classic I don't tolerate nonsense kind of way.
"Welcome to Chemistry," she announced, her voice cutting through the chatter with no effort. "We will be doing some practical work today, so make sure you pay attention to the safety procedures. This is not the kind of subject you can afford to slack off in."
I slid into an empty desk near the back, barely paying attention to the murmurs floating around the room. As I set my things down, my eyes flickered toward the front row—
And sure enough, there she was.
Tamaki Nanase.
Composed as always, posture straight, eyes already locked onto Ms. Hirano with sharp focus. Even from the back, I could tell she was taking this way too seriously.
I shook my head, smirking faintly to myself.
Figures.
As I leaned back in my seat, Haruto nudged me, lowering his voice to a whisper.
"I bet you're gonna hate this. Chemistry's all about rules and measurements."
I let out a soft chuckle, keeping my voice just as quiet.
"I'll manage. Rules don't bother me. Just gotta play along."
Ms. Hirano wasted no time getting to the first task—basic compound mixing. Easy enough.
But then she turned in our direction, her gaze landing squarely on me and Haruto.
"You two, pair up. Let's see how well you work together. And remember—safety first."
I felt Haruto's grin before I even looked at him.
"Looks like we're partners for today, Rem. Ready to make some chemical magic?"
I smirked, leaning back in my chair.
"Sure. Let's see what happens."
Haruto was already in his element, gathering the materials with an enthusiasm that made it seem like we were about to conduct some groundbreaking experiment rather than just mix a few basic compounds.
Meanwhile, I leaned back in my seat, letting him take the lead for now. My mind wandered—nothing in particular, just a drifting stream of thoughts. The faint hum of the fluorescent lights. The way the glassware caught the light. The subtle scent of chemicals blending in the air.
Then, the moment we actually started working, my focus snapped into place.
Measuring. Mixing. Observing. It was all straightforward—just a matter of following the steps logically. My hands moved steadily, no hesitation, no wasted movement. The solution changed color as expected, the reaction unfolding smoothly, just as it should.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Haruto watching me.
"I knew it," he muttered, shaking his head with a grin. "You really don't do things halfway, huh? You're a natural."
I smirked slightly, adjusting the flask in my hand.
"I told you. No point in doing things badly."
It wasn't that I cared about chemistry all that much. It was just… well, if I was going to do something, I might as well do it right.
The lesson continued without much fuss. We finished our experiment ahead of time, and while Haruto seemed pleased, I just leaned back again, hands in my pockets, letting the rest of the class catch up.
(Tamaki's POV)
From my seat at the front, I kept an eye on the class as I worked. The usual mix of students—some struggling, some chatting too much, some focused. Everything as expected.
But then, my gaze flickered toward the back.
Toward him.
Rem Kotsuki.
He wasn't even trying, and yet… his movements were so precise. Effortless, but not careless. Calm, but efficient.
I had seen him pull off this act in other subjects before—lazy, indifferent, uninterested. But right now, watching him handle the experiment so smoothly, I couldn't ignore it. There was no uncertainty in the way he worked, no hesitation. Just quiet skill, like this was second nature to him.
It irritated me.
I turned back to my own work, dismissing the thought.
Of course he was good at this too. Of course he wouldn't struggle like the others.
That's just how he was.
And I've never liked that about him.
…So why does it feel different now?
(Rem's POV)
A few minutes into the experiment, I felt it.
That burning gaze.
Ahh… I must have slipped up.
I had gotten too caught up in the work, too focused. Forgot to keep up the act. And now, she was watching me.
Even without looking, I knew it was Tamaki.
Sharp. Calculating. Suspicious.
She had noticed.
'Tch. Can't have her catching on to me.'
But it was too late.
I could still feel the weight of her gaze from across the room, unwavering. It was like a silent accusation—she knew I wasn't as careless as I pretended to be.
For a brief moment, my mask had cracked.
Or had it?
A slow smirk curled at my lips as I made my decision. There was only one way to reset things—to return to the status quo.
Time to remind her why she thinks I'm an idiot.
Meanwhile, Haruto, blissfully unaware of my internal dilemma, continued the experiment with his usual enthusiasm, holding up a beaker of purple liquid over the Bunsen burner.
"Ahh, Rem… I think it's about time to pour in the slaked lime."
I exhaled lazily, my posture relaxing into exaggerated nonchalance.
"Right, right."
I reached for the test tube of slaked lime, but—oops.
I accidentally knocked over the beaker of salt solution perched precariously at the edge of the table.
Just a little push and—
Smash!
The entire classroom turned at once, their eyes snapping to the mess on the floor. A splattered solution, shards of broken glass glinting under the fluorescent lights.
Haruto's eyes went wide.
"What the—"
I scratched the back of my head with an easygoing smile.
"Ahh, my bad."
Right on cue, Ms. Hirano materialized at the back of the lab, her expression the very definition of unimpressed. She surveyed the mess with cold scrutiny before finally speaking, her tone calm—but sharp as a scalpel.
"That was reckless and utterly careless of you, Kotsuki."
I nodded, offering an apologetic smile.
"Ahh, you're right, sensei… it won't happen again."
Ms. Hirano's gaze didn't waver.
"Of course it won't happen again. At least, you'll make sure of that while serving detention."
Haruto snapped his head toward me, visibly horrified.
"Ehhh? But sensei—!"
"No buts."
Her sharp voice cut through his protest like a blade.
"You both will be serving detention after this. And you have your friend here to thank for that."
Her gaze flickered to me—still smiling, still perfectly at ease—before she turned on her heel and strode back to the front of the class.
The second she was gone, Haruto's glare drilled into me like a laser.
"This is all your fault."
I simply grinned, stretching my arms behind my head.
"Ahh, seems my luck must have run out. Sorry about that."
Haruto groaned, muttering something about "this guy…" under his breath, but I had already tuned him out.
Because across the room, Tamaki's gaze was still on me.
Except now, her curiosity had sharpened into irritation.
My grin widened.
Ahh. Well, that's taken care of.