The cherry blossoms bloomed in obnoxiously perfect clusters, their pink petals fluttering onto the empty bench where Kaito Sudo sat alone. He adjusted his wire-framed glasses, staring at the ground like it held the secrets of the universe. Or at least the secret to avoiding human interaction.

Third year of university. 27 days since my last unscheduled conversation. New record.

Kaito's idea of a perfect lunch hour was silence, his battered earbuds, and a convenience store onigiri. But today, his carefully curated solitude was shattered by a hurricane in human form.

"SUDOOOOOO!"

Akira Tanaka skidded into view, sneakers screeching against the pavement, his neon orange hoodie practically glowing. He vaulted over the bench like an over-caffeinated parkour artist and slammed down next to Kaito, who flinched so hard he nearly dropped his rice ball.

"Dude. Duuuuude. You'll never guess what I just heard!" Akira's voice could drown out a jet engine. "Hana Matsuda! Volleyball team captain! Single! And get this—she totally smiled at you in Econ 302!"

Kaito hunched his shoulders, eyes darting toward the nearest exit. "She smiles at everyone. It's… a reflex."

"Nuh-uh! This was a special smile! Like, 'Hey, let's get married and adopt three cats' smile!" Akira threw an arm around Kaito, who stiffened like a possum playing dead. "Today's the day, man! Operation Confess to Hana: Hyper Speed Edition! I'll be your wingman! Your hype squad! Your—"

"No."

"—personal DJ! I've got a playlist ready! Track one: 'Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore'—"

"No."

Akira deflated for exactly 0.2 seconds before bouncing back. "Fine. But at least look at her! She's right over there!" He grabbed Kaito's head and forcibly turned it toward the courtyard, where Hana stood laughing with friends, sunlight glinting off her ponytail.

Kaito's face burned. "Let. Go. Of. My. Face."

"Admit it! You're into her!"

"I'm into disappearing." Kaito pried Akira's hands off him and retreated into his hoodie like a hermit crab. "Go bother someone else."

Akira gasped dramatically. "Betrayal! After all we've been through? The vending machine incident? The time I convinced the cafeteria lady you were allergic to broccoli so you wouldn't have to make small talk? Our bond is unbreakable!"

"Our bond is a hostage situation," Kaito muttered.

By some miracle, Akira eventually vanished (likely to challenge a freshman to a dance-off), leaving Kaito to eat his sad onigiri in peace. Or so he thought.

He unzipped his lunch bag—and froze.

Inside was a bentō box so aggressively cute it looked like it had been designed by a unicorn on a sugar high. Heart-shaped rice topped with tiny seaweed hearts. Tamagoyaki slices cut into stars. Fried chicken arranged as a literal love letter: ♥ YOU.

Kaito's brain short-circuited. This isn't mine. This isn't mine. This isn't—

"Interesting."

Mei Suzuki materialized beside him, her voice low and amused. Kaito hadn't even noticed her approach—a skill she'd honed since they were kids, when she'd ambush him with bugs to "help him socialize."

"You've upgraded from stalking to lunch theft," she said, adjusting her glasses. "Bold move."

"I didn't— This isn't—"

"Relax. I believe you." Mei smirked. "You'd need a 10-step diagram to make toast, let alone this." She poked the bentō. "But someone went to a lot of trouble. Secret admirer?"

Kaito's soul attempted to flee his body. "No. No admirers. No secrets. Just a… bentō mix-up."

"Uh-huh. And I'm the queen of—"

"Sudo-san?"

Both turned. Rina Fujiwara, the mousy art student from his pottery history class, stood trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. She clutched a familiar convenience store bag.

"I-I think," she whispered, "we swapped lunches…"

Time stopped.

Kaito's mind raced. Apologize. Swap. Flee. Simple. But his tongue fused to the roof of his mouth. He thrust the bentō toward her like it was a live grenade.

Rina reached for it. Their fingers brushed.

Cue disaster.

Akira chose that exact moment to cannonball back into existence. "KAITO! I FOUND A CAT IN THE LIBRARY AND— WHOA, IS THAT A LOVE LETTER IN FRIED CHICKEN?!"

Kaito jerked back. The bentō soared.

It hit the bulletin board with a splat, karage hearts sliding down the Cultural Festival poster. A crowd gathered. Phones came out. Someone started a slow clap.

Hana wandered over, raising an eyebrow. "Creative way to RSVP for the festival, Sudo."

Mei snorted. Rina looked ready to faint. Akira whipped out his phone. "This is going on Insta! #LunchboxLothario!"

Kaito sank onto the bench, pulled his hood over his head, and willed the earth to swallow him whole.

That night, as Kaito hid under his weighted blanket, his phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: Sorry about the bentō… and your friend. –R

He stared at the message for 10 full minutes before texting back:

Kaito: Not your fault. Sorry about the chicken.

Unknown Number: It was kinda poetic. In a deep-fried, chaotic way.

Against his will, Kaito smiled.

To Be Continued…

<< Next Chapter: The Festival, the Cat, and the Accidental Duet >>