I woke up groggy, the familiar ache in my back reminding me that once again, I'd fallen asleep on the couch. It wasn't unusual for me to pass out there—my soft, luxurious, overpriced couch had a habit of lulling me to sleep—but this time, the discomfort was worse than usual. I groaned, stretching my arms over my head and wincing as the muscles protested like a rusty door hinge that hadn't been oiled in years.
"Ugh, my back..." I muttered, pressing my fingers into my sore shoulder. "Did I really fall asleep like this? Ugh." I felt like an old man, despite my youthful vigor. Was this it? Was I doomed to prematurely join the ranks of people who complain about their sciatica?
The early morning sun had already begun filtering through the curtains, casting a soft light across the room. Oreo, my cat, was still curled up on the couch beside me, completely undisturbed by my discomfort. Her soft purring was the only sound in the apartment, a steady, calming rhythm that I almost envied. I, on the other hand, had a long day ahead. Oreo, living the life of a pampered cat, had absolutely no sympathy for my plight.
"Of course you're relaxed," I grumbled at her. "Your biggest decision today is which pillow to nap on."
I forced myself off the couch and shuffled toward the bathroom, groaning like I was in the final moments of a horror movie. My reflection greeted me with a sight that would shock anyone who knew the carefully put-together version of me at school. My hair, usually neat and slightly tousled just above my shoulders, was an unmitigated disaster—strands sticking up in every direction, like I'd been electrocuted. Or like I was auditioning to become the next lead in a boy band that hadn't quite figured out the concept of styling gel.
And, of course, I was still in my comfy home clothes: heart-patterned pajamas and bunny slippers. Yes, bunny slippers. Call it self-care, call it indulgence, but no one said I couldn't enjoy a little comfort at home.
"Cute," I muttered sarcastically to the mirror. "Real cute, Raven." Even I couldn't deny the contrast between this and the version of myself I usually projected at school. The composed, confident Raven Gray was nowhere to be found. Instead, I was just a half-asleep, pajama-wearing mess, trying to remember how to function before breakfast.
As I brushed my teeth, my mind wandered back to the mission of the day: getting closer to Rika and, by extension, the girls around him. Miyuki and Asuka, especially. If I was going to steer this rom-com plot in the direction I wanted, I needed to establish trust with them too. That meant more interactions, more opportunities to build rapport. Social maneuvering 101, I called it.
I spat out the toothpaste and rinsed my mouth, still lost in thought. "It's time to get to know Miyuki and Asuka better," I thought, formulating plans as I grabbed a towel to wipe my face. My reflection in the mirror was no longer the disheveled mess it had been moments ago, but I still didn't look like the Raven who walked the halls of Tokyo High School with cool confidence.
I sighed dramatically at my own reflection. "Is it too much to ask for a little cinematic transformation sequence? Something with a cool soundtrack?" Unfortunately, the universe did not oblige.
I headed to the kitchen and started frying some eggs for breakfast, the sizzle of the pan filling the quiet apartment. As I cracked another egg, Oreo padded over, brushing against my legs as if reminding me of her existence. I grabbed her bowl and filled it with fresh cat food, setting it down with a pat on her head. "There you go, Oreo. At least one of us gets to be spoiled today."
With breakfast done, I felt more awake and ready for the day. Mentally, at least. Physically? Well, I was still trapped in the slightly groggy world of post-wake-up blues. I absentmindedly grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and stepped out of the apartment, already scheming about how to navigate the intricate social web of Tokyo High School. My mind raced through scenarios, visualizing my approach with Miyuki and Asuka like a war strategist planning an elaborate siege.
"Maybe I should just insert myself into their conversation?" I mused, my hand on my chin, looking very much like an intellectual deep in thought. "No, too intrusive. But waiting for the right moment could take forever…"
I was so absorbed in my scheming that I didn't even notice I had walked a good distance down the street until I paused to adjust my bag. I glanced down.
And froze.
The heart-patterned pajamas. The bunny slippers.
I was still wearing them.
A slow, creeping horror took hold. It felt like time slowed down, the weight of my realization crashing over me like a wave of existential dread. My brain, already working overtime on rom-com plotting, took a solid five seconds to catch up to the utter disaster that had just occurred.
"No. No. NO!" I screamed internally. "How could I be this distracted? Of all the days... why today?!"
The universe, in its infinite cruelty, didn't even give me time to process my embarrassment. A soft giggle behind me sent a jolt of terror through my veins. I turned around slowly, like a character in a horror film who just realized the monster was standing right behind them.
There she was—a girl, about my age, standing a few feet away, watching me with wide, amused eyes. Her long black hair shimmered in the morning light, and her uniform told me she attended Tokyo High School. Her barely restrained smile sent a wave of embarrassment crashing over me like a tidal wave. From the color of her tie, I could tell she was from a different class. That somehow made it worse.
For the first time in my life, I felt the heat of a blush creeping up my neck. This was bad. This was the kind of thing that shattered cool, aloof images permanently.
I wanted to say something. Anything to salvage my pride. But words failed me. I, Raven Gray, the master of witty retorts, had nothing. The only thing I could muster was a weak nod of acknowledgment before I bolted back to my apartment at breakneck speed.
After frantically changing into my school uniform and triple-checking that no pajama remnants remained on my person, I finally left my apartment for the second time. But by then, the damage was done. I could still feel the phantom embarrassment burning in my chest.
Each step I took toward school felt like I was marching toward my own personal doom. My aura of cool confidence? Gone. My composed demeanor? Shattered.
I sighed dramatically, staring up at the sky as I trudged forward. "Oh, gods of rom-coms, I appreciate your efforts, but you've completely missed the mark with your target!" I muttered under my breath. The few pedestrians nearby gave me odd looks, but I didn't care. My pride had already taken a hit; what was a little more public embarrassment?
"How much aura did I just lose?" I lamented to myself. "Is it even possible to recover from something like this? Minus 999999 aura... my reputation... Ugh, I want to die."
With a heavy sigh, I continued my walk, mentally preparing myself for the possibility that this mortifying incident might be the start of a chain of events that would unravel my entire existence. That's it. I'm switching schools. Again.
By the time I reached the gates of Tokyo High School, I had calmed down enough to refocus on my plan. I couldn't afford to let one awkward encounter throw me off my game. I had bigger things to worry about, like getting closer to Rika's group. That was still the primary goal, and if I played my cards right, today could still be a win.
"Alright," I thought, adjusting my bag as I passed through the gates. "I could invite Rika to lunch, but Asuka probably won't join us if it's just the two of us. She's shy, and Rika's presence alone might not be enough to get her to tag along."
That's when an idea struck me—jealousy. Miyuki was bolder, more outgoing. If I could get her to join us for lunch, Asuka might be more likely to follow. She wouldn't want to feel left out, especially if Miyuki was involved. I thought back to the subtle tension between them whenever Rika was around. Asuka had a competitive streak, even if she didn't show it openly.
A smirk crept across my face. "Judging by how Asuka reacts to Miyuki, I could definitely push her into joining us."
As I walked through the hallway toward my classroom, I mentally mapped out the logistics of the plan. "But how do I make sure Miyuki joins us for lunch? And how do I guarantee Asuka sees it?"
Then I remembered. Class 1-C, Miyuki's class, was conveniently located near the exit to the back of the school. There was a little-used bench area back there, a quiet spot where teachers used to smoke before the ban. I'd seen Asuka eating there a few times during lunch, preferring the solitude over the crowded cafeteria.
"Two birds with one stone," I thought, my smirk widening. "We'll walk by class 1-C, run into Miyuki, and Asuka will see us. Easy."
I entered Class 1-A, my mind still racing with plans and contingencies. The room was already buzzing with the usual morning chatter, but I quickly scanned for Rika. Surprisingly, he wasn't here yet. "That's odd," I thought. "He's usually early."
I sat down at my desk by the window, pulling out my phone to check the school map one more time. Class 1-C, check. Exit to the back of the school, check. Asuka's usual lunch spot, check. Everything was falling into place.
As I leaned back in my chair, I ran through the steps of my plan again. "All I need to do is invite Rika to lunch, walk by class 1-C, and run into Miyuki. I'll step aside just long enough for her to invite Rika herself. And when Asuka sees them together, she'll be compelled to join out of jealousy."
It was a foolproof strategy, or so I believed. I glanced at the clock, waiting for the right moment to put everything into motion.