The next few days felt oddly normal. Aqua had integrated herself into Aoyama's daily life, albeit in her own chaotic way. Between school, art club, and their occasional bickering, Aoyama found himself… enjoying her company. Not that he'd admit it out loud.
One evening, after dinner, Aqua flopped onto the futon with a dramatic sigh. "Aoyama, I'm bored."
"Then find something to do," Aoyama said without looking up from his textbook. Exams were coming up, and he couldn't afford to slack off.
"You're so dull," Aqua complained, rolling onto her stomach to look at him. "All you do is study."
"Some of us don't have divine powers to rely on," Aoyama shot back. "I actually have to work hard to get anywhere."
Aqua pouted, resting her chin in her hands. "Fine. Teach me."
Aoyama blinked, turning to look at her. "Teach you what?"
"This," Aqua said, gesturing at his textbook. "If you're going to ignore me, at least make it worth my while."
"You? Study?" Aoyama raised an eyebrow. "That's rich."
"Hey! I can be smart if I want to be!" Aqua huffed. "Come on, Aoyama, don't be stingy."
Aoyama sighed, closing his book. "Fine. But don't blame me if your brain short-circuits."
---
They sat at the tiny table in the center of the apartment, Aqua leaning far too close for comfort as Aoyama explained the basics of trigonometry. Her attention span was, unsurprisingly, abysmal.
"So, the sine of an angle is—"
"Sine?" Aqua interrupted, tilting her head. "Like a signpost?"
"No, sine," Aoyama said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's a mathematical function. Look, just focus, okay?"
"I am focusing!" Aqua protested, though her eyes kept wandering to the window. "This is just so boring."
"It's only boring because you're not trying," Aoyama muttered. "Here, solve this." He slid a practice problem across the table.
Aqua stared at the equation like it was written in an alien language. "Uh… the answer is… seven?"
"That's not even close," Aoyama groaned. "You didn't even try!"
"I did! In my head!" Aqua crossed her arms, pouting. "This is dumb."
Aoyama sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You're hopeless."
"Am not!" Aqua shot back, though her cheeks turned pink. She looked down at the problem again, biting her lip. "Just… explain it one more time."
Aoyama blinked, surprised by her sudden seriousness. "Alright," he said, leaning forward. "Let's break it down."
---
The study session lasted longer than Aoyama expected. Aqua still struggled, but she managed to grasp a few concepts by the end. When she finally solved a problem correctly, she let out a triumphant cheer.
"See? I told you I could do it!" she said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Yeah, after twenty tries," Aoyama muttered, but he couldn't help smiling. "Good job, though."
Aqua's grin softened into a genuine smile. "Thanks, Aoyama."
The moment hung in the air, warm and quiet. Aoyama found himself staring at her, his heart doing an unfamiliar fluttering thing in his chest. He quickly looked away, clearing his throat.
"Don't get too full of yourself," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "We've still got a long way to go."
"Yeah, yeah," Aqua said, waving him off. "But I'll get there. With your help, of course."
Aoyama snorted. "Lucky me."
---
Later that night, after Aqua had fallen asleep, Aoyama checked the harem system again. His eyes widened when he saw the updated stats.
---
Name: Aqua
Harem Affection Level: 35/100
---
"Thirty-five already?" he murmured, running a hand through his hair. "At this rate…"
He didn't finish the thought, closing the system with a shake of his head. As he lay down, he couldn't help but glance at Aqua, who was curled up on the futon, her hair a messy halo around her head.
For the first time, he felt a pang of something he couldn't quite name. Something warm and unfamiliar.
---
The next day, Aqua dragged Aoyama to the park again, claiming she needed "inspiration" for her next painting. Despite his protests, he found himself sitting on the grass beside her, watching as she sketched the scenery with surprising focus.
"You're actually pretty good at this," Aoyama admitted, leaning over to look at her sketch.
"Of course I am," Aqua said, though her cheeks turned pink at the compliment. "I'm a goddess, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah," Aoyama said, rolling his eyes. "You're also terrible at math."
"Hey!" Aqua protested, swatting at him with her pencil.
They fell into an easy rhythm, teasing and bickering like always. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, Aoyama realized something had changed. Aqua wasn't just a nuisance anymore. She was… important.
And that scared him more than he cared to admit.
---
To Be Continued..