My hands were shaking so hard I nearly dropped my wallet twice at the cash register, but the transaction was complete.
Stepping out of the checkout line and into the softer light near the store's entrance, I turned to Haruka.
My face was burning with a blush that could probably be seen from space.
I reached into the small plastic bag, pulled out the translucent pink lily charm, and carefully held it out to her by its silver ring.
"Here,"
I mumbled, desperately staring at a display of plush frogs to avoid direct eye contact.
"The, uh... the material density seems reliable. Consider it a thank-you token for the sweet tamagoyaki. And for, you know, not letting the boy band delete my existence earlier this week."
Haruka gasped softly.
She took the pink lily charm from my fingers, her skin brushing against mine for a brief, electric second that sent a violent jolt straight up my spine.
She clutched the acrylic piece against her chest as if it were a rare, priceless artifact from a high-level dungeon.
"Thank you, Mei-chan," she whispered, her amber eyes shimmering with a deep, profound warmth as she immediately hooked it onto her phone case.
"I'll take care of it forever. I promise."
By the time we finally finished browsing the rest of the store, the digital clock on the mall's display tower read 3:00 PM.
Haruka had purchased a round, ridiculously fluffy seal plushie for Momo-chan, which successfully kept the toddler from staging another full-scale leg-anchoring protest when it was time to say our goodbyes.
"Mei-oneechan, you have to promise to come over! The seal needs a name, and you're the hero!"
Momo-chan pouted, hugging the plushie like a shield.
"I'll think of a majestic name, Momo-chan, I promise,"
I chuckled, waving to them as I turned toward the station entrance.
The train ride back was a quiet, rhythmic sanctuary.
I found an empty seat near the window, sat down, and immediately unclipped the midnight-blue star keychain from its packaging.
Looking at it hanging there, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer, ridiculous coincidence of the day.
I had set out to hide from the elite upperclassmen and read fiction, only to walk straight into a wholesome, real-life weekend event with the actual heroine.
BUZZ.
My phone vibrated against my thigh.
I pulled it out to find a direct message from [Hinata Haruka].
[Hinata Haruka]: Mei-chan, thank you so much for today! Momo-chan hasn't stopped hugging her seal, but she’s already asking when you're going to play with her again! I told her you have to study, but... honestly, I had an amazing time too.
A wave of pure, unadulterated comfort washed over me.
I realized with a sudden jolt that this was the very first time I had ever received a casual, non-threatening weekend text from Haruka.
No ultimatums, no real estate threats—just a sweet girl being genuinely happy.
I quickly picked out an incredibly cute, animated panda sticker that said
“No problem! Let’s hang out again!” and hit send.
With my social obligations officially fulfilled, I finally reached into my paper bag and pulled out my highly anticipated purchase: Co-Worker Nemesis to Lovers.
"Alright, my precious office ladies,"
I whispered, opening the first page.
"Show me the true meaning of high-stakes corporate romance."
For the next four stops, I was completely locked in.
The artwork was breathtaking, the dialogue was sharp, and the slow-burn workplace tension was absolutely peak culture.
But as the train entered a dark tunnel, the story suddenly hit a massive, high-density plot twist.
One of the office ladies unexpectedly pinned her rival against the copying machine, their faces centimeters apart, the prose describing the scent of coffee and pure, unexpressed longing.
"Oh my holy moly,
I gasped out loud, my inner yuri radar violently redlining. Get faster updates on g.com.
My hands twitched in pure, chaotic hype.
The sudden movement caused my grip to slip, and the manga flipped out of my fingers, tumbling directly into the lap of the elderly lady sitting right across the aisle from me.
The book landed completely open, perfectly displaying a highly intense, borderline-ecchi panel of the two women sharing an incredibly passionate, dramatic kiss.
The elderly lady blinked.
She looked down at her lap.
She looked up at my glasses.
"I—I AM DEEPLY APOLOGETIC, IT IS AN INVESTIGATIVE STUDY ON MODERN GRAPHIC DESIGN!"
I shrieked, my face turning a violent shade of crimson as I scrambled forward, snatched the book back like a criminal retrieving evidence, and violently shoved it into my bag.
I spent the remaining two stops staring intently at the floorboards, praying for the train to go faster so I could escape the crushing moral weight of my own existence.
By 4:30 PM, I had finally collapsed onto the safety of my own apartment's tatami mats, my dignity barely intact but my heart content.
I crawled onto my futon, opened the manga back up to get into the actual good part of the chapter, determined to finish the volume in peace.
PING.
My phone lit up again on the floorboards.
[Hinata Haruka]: Mei-chan! I talked to my mom, and she said it’s totally fine for you to come over tomorrow afternoon! Since the first-term midterms are only a few weeks away, we can get a really early head start on the history revisions. Is 1:00 PM okay for you?
I stared at the screen, a massive, helpless smile spreading across my face.
The ecchi manga in my hands was great, but tomorrow... I was stepping directly into a private, one-on-one study session inside the heroine's actual house.
[Kurogane Mei]: 1:00 PM is perfect! I will bring my sharpest pencils and my most functional brain cells. See you tomorrow, Haruka!
The weekend is hitting its peak.
The office ladies in my book are great, but tomorrow I am entering the ultimate romance arc.
Shiori and Fuyumi are still completely silent in the other chat, which means my apartment building is safe for at least another twenty-four hours.
Tomorrow, it's just me, Haruka, and a pile of history textbooks.
What could possibly go wrong?