The following weekend brought an unexpected announcement from the school: a cultural festival. Aqua, of course, was ecstatic.
"A festival?" Aqua exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. "With food stalls, games, and performances? Count me in!"
"You don't even know what you're supposed to do," Aoyama said, sipping his tea. "Our class has to organize something. It's a lot of work."
"Work schmurk!" Aqua waved him off. "This is my chance to shine!"
Aoyama sighed. "As long as you don't burn the school down, I'll consider it a success."
---
By the time Monday rolled around, the class had decided to run a café for the festival. Aqua, unsurprisingly, volunteered to be a server, much to Aoyama's horror.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked as they walked home that evening. "Serving people requires patience and, you know, not being... you."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Aqua pouted. "I'm perfectly capable of being polite!"
Aoyama gave her a skeptical look but decided not to argue. This is going to be a disaster.
---
The week flew by in a blur of preparations. Aoyama ended up being roped into helping with decorations, while Aqua spent most of her time practicing her "serving skills" by dramatically delivering cups of imaginary tea to her classmates.
When the day of the festival finally arrived, the café was buzzing with activity. Students and visitors filled the room, and Aqua—dressed in a frilly maid uniform—was in her element.
"Welcome, honored guests!" she proclaimed, striking a pose as she handed menus to a table of wide-eyed boys. "Your goddess is here to serve you!"
Aoyama groaned from behind the counter. "Could you be any more embarrassing?"
"What? They love it!" Aqua shot back, gesturing to the blushing customers.
Despite her theatrics, Aqua's charm worked wonders. The café quickly became one of the most popular attractions, with people lining up just to be served by her. Aoyama begrudgingly admitted she was doing a decent job—for once.
---
As the sun set and the festival wound down, Aqua dragged Aoyama outside to explore the rest of the event. The courtyard was lit with strings of lanterns, and the air buzzed with the sounds of laughter and music.
"Come on, Aoyama!" Aqua said, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward a ring toss game. "Let's play!"
"I'm terrible at these," Aoyama protested, but Aqua had already handed him a ring.
He missed every throw, earning a smug grin from Aqua. "Wow, you really are hopeless."
"Let's see you do better," Aoyama shot back.
To his surprise, Aqua hit the target on her first try, winning a small stuffed dolphin. She held it up triumphantly. "See? Goddess instincts!"
Aoyama rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Of course."
---
Later, as they wandered through the stalls, Aqua suddenly stopped, her gaze drawn to a fireworks display in the distance. Her eyes sparkled in the lantern light, and for a moment, Aoyama forgot how to breathe.
"Aoyama," Aqua said softly, her voice unusually calm. "Thank you."
"For what?" he asked, his heart doing that strange fluttering thing again.
"For... everything," she said, turning to look at him. "For letting me stay, for putting up with me, for helping me... feel like I belong."
Aoyama stared at her, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. He opened his mouth to respond, but the first firework exploded overhead, lighting up the sky—and Aqua's face—in a burst of color.
For a long moment, they stood in silence, watching the display. Aoyama felt his chest tighten, his heart pounding in a way he didn't fully understand.
---
That night, after they returned home, Aoyama checked the harem system again. His breath caught when he saw the updated stats.
---
Name: Aqua
Harem Affection Level: 70/100
---
"Seventy?" he murmured, staring at the number. "How did it jump so much?"
He glanced at Aqua, who was curled up on the futon with her new stuffed dolphin. Her expression was peaceful, her usual bravado replaced by a quiet contentment.
Aoyama sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What are you doing to me, Aqua?"
He closed the system and lay down, staring at the ceiling. For the first time, he didn't feel annoyed or burdened by her presence. Instead, he felt something else—something warm, something real.
And that terrified him more than he cared to admit.
---
To Be Continued...