"Azuma-kun, over here!"
Hayasaka Ai stood on the sunlit streets of Ginza, her hand raised high in greeting. The moment her eyes landed on the approaching figure of Yukima Azuma, her face lit up with a bright, radiant smile. Her heels even lifted slightly off the ground as if she couldn't wait to close the distance between them. Every inch of her body radiated excitement, joy, and youthful anticipation.
But it was all calculated.
From her expression to her posture, Hayasaka Ai had rehearsed this scene dozens of times in her head. Every micro-expression was under her control, every breath fine-tuned to send the right signal. Even her heel lift—seemingly unconscious—was choreographed.
Because those little, seemingly innocent movements…
Could tilt a heart, nudge it just enough to make someone feel special.
To feel wanted.
And that feeling, above all, was the most dangerous weapon in her arsenal.
"Good morning, Hasaka," Yukima Azuma said as he reached her, calm and composed.
Hayasaka Ai blinked.
"Good morning~!"
He seemed… different today. His tone, his demeanor—there was a calmness to him that hadn't been there yesterday.
Odd.
But she didn't let it rattle her—not yet. She reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out two glossy movie tickets, handing one to him with a sweet smile.
"I got us tickets to Starlight Summer," she said, referring to the currently trending slice-of-life anime movie. "Hope you don't mind something 2D today."
A risk? Not really. In Japan, anime could be a hit or miss depending on the person, but this? This was safe.
Because Yukima Azuma wasn't just a fan.
He was part of the industry—an acclaimed light novel author.
This was the perfect choice. A topic with depth, a shared interest, and best of all—it would open doors for deeper conversation.
Yukima Azuma took the ticket from her hands. But unlike what she expected—no sparkle in his eyes, no eager chatter about the characters or the studio animation.
Just a nod. A quiet, "Thanks."
Then his gaze shifted.
"This uniform is…?" he asked, eyes scanning her outfit.
She gave a playful twirl. "Filis Girls' Academy, first-year. You're a first-year too, right, Azuma-kun?"
Her sailor-style blouse clung perfectly, paired with a pleated grey skirt whose hem had definitely been folded up a few centimeters. It was a classic schoolgirl ensemble, sweet and nostalgic.
She tilted her head forward, brushing her hands over her skirt coyly.
"I heard boys really like school uniforms. What do you think? Cute, isn't it?"
And to finish the combo: she winked. That signature Hayasaka wink—designed to ignite the heart of any hormonal high school boy.
Usually, this would earn her a flustered stammer or a crimson blush.
But Azuma?
"You look adorable. That style suits you, Hasaka," he replied genuinely, then smiled.
Hayasaka Ai straightened up a bit too quickly, her fingers brushing the hem of her skirt, this time out of nervousness rather than showmanship.
"R-Really? As long as you like it… I wasn't sure if it was too much."
This was off-script.
Azuma wasn't reacting the way he was supposed to. He wasn't fidgeting, blushing, or playing into her rhythm.
Was he… already interested in her?
But if he was, wouldn't he be more awkward? More obviously excited?
He was unreadable.
And Hayasaka Ai didn't like it one bit.
They began walking toward the Ginza theater together, with Azuma slightly in front, and Ai falling into step half a pace behind him. It was subtle—but deliberate. A well-known dating trick: walking slightly behind a boy often made him feel more protective.
Outside the theater, the crowd had thickened. Families herded their children, high school couples exchanged laughter and teasing. The noise, the movement, the sensory overload—it was the perfect opportunity.
She stepped a little closer to Azuma.
Just close enough that maybe—just maybe—their hands would bump. A bit of accidental contact here, a shared moment there.
But then—
Azuma's hand reached back.
Before she could react, his warm fingers closed gently around her wrist and gave a light tug.
"It's crowded. Walk behind me, Hasaka. You might get bumped."
She blinked at the sudden warmth of his hand on her skin. His grip was careful, his hand strong and long-fingered—elegant.
The kind of hand that belonged to a pianist… or a writer.
She stared at his back for a second too long.
Wait.
Why am I feeling this way?
I'm supposed to be leading him. Manipulating him.
Not falling for him.
She shook her head and took a deep breath. No. She was in control.
Still, the echo of warmth where his hand had held hers lingered as they lined up to enter the theater.
They handed over their tickets, and the theater staff smiled at them with a knowing grin.
"Enjoy the movie, you two. Oh, by the way—there's a 50% discount for couples on the second serving of popcorn."
Couples.
That word floated in the air.
Hayasaka Ai lightly scratched the back of Azuma's hand with her finger, a flirtatious gesture hidden in plain sight.
"Then… we'll take two servings," Azuma said, not missing a beat.
They walked toward their assigned seats, each holding a bucket of popcorn. Finally, their hands separated.
Hayasaka Ai sat down and gently touched her wrist again, where he had grabbed her earlier. Her gaze softened. She lowered her head, feigning shyness—part of the plan.
He should be reacting to this.
But Azuma was munching popcorn contentedly, eyes fixed on the screen.
Not a single comment about the "couple" misunderstanding.
Hayasaka Ai bit her lip.
This guy…!
Was he really this dense?
The theater lights dimmed, and the film began. A soft piano melody filled the room, and the opening scenes played out.
It was a light, warm story—about two high schoolers slowly growing closer.
Halfway through, on screen, the male and female leads sat shoulder to shoulder, their hands inching toward each other in that classic slow-burn scene.
Hayasaka Ai mimicked the moment.
She reached out, fingers trembling slightly, letting her fingertips brush against Azuma's hand.
Would he flinch? Would he grasp it?
Azuma turned slightly.
"What's wrong? Want some popcorn?" he asked, offering his bucket toward her.
Hayasaka Ai's smile twitched. She grabbed a piece and bit down with unnecessary force.
Popcorn you mother—!
Is that really all he sees in me?!
Just a fellow popcorn muncher!?
She was fuming inside. Her fists clenched in frustration, trying to suppress the scowl threatening to break through.
But then—
His hand reached out again.
Warmth closed over hers.
Long fingers intertwined with her own, clasping tightly.
She froze.
Azuma kept his gaze on the screen, cheeks slightly pink.
"Ahem… you wanted to hold hands, right, Hasaka?"
He cleared his throat and added softly, "Sorry. I almost let your courage go to waste."
Hayasaka Ai looked away quickly, cheeks flaring with heat.
"A-Ah… it's fine. Really."
Well… it worked.
Sort of.
Not the way she envisioned it. But the end result—holding hands—was achieved.
She took a deep breath. She was still in the lead. Still in control.
Probably.
After the movie, they exited the theater still hand in hand, fingers laced. Neither mentioned it. The silence wasn't awkward—it was comfortable.
"It's funny," Hayasaka Ai murmured as they walked. "None of my classmates are into anime. I still love it though."
She glanced at him sidelong, watching.
This was her emotional hook. A moment of shared vulnerability.
"I get it," Azuma replied, his voice softer now. "Even if others don't understand it… it still matters to me."
Hayasaka let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
Still on script. Good.
There was a slight flutter in her chest she couldn't quite suppress.
"We should go again sometime," she said. "You know the Youth series? The second movie's out next month. I'm a huge fan!"
She smiled wide.
A cute girl. A shared fandom. An invitation to rewatch the adaptation of his own work.
This was a surefire hit.
"…Umu. Sure."
Hayasaka Ai blinked.
Umu?
That's it?
Where was the shy joy? The hidden smile? The little sparkle in his eye?
Her fists clenched again.
All that effort, and all she got was a freaking "Umu"!?
Deep breath.
Smile.
"Alright, it's decided then!" she said cheerfully, regaining her composure. "It's already noon. Azuma-kun, are you hungry? How about we go get something to eat?"
Her expression stayed bright, but inside—
The strategist in her was burning her mental whiteboard.
If this boy didn't start playing along soon…
She might just really fall for him.
And that wasn't part of the plan.