Chapter 10 Investigation Mode
If there was one thing Yada Eisaya loved more than drama—
It was being inside the drama.
And right now?
She was thriving.
“You’re being followed.”
Oom did not react.
“I am not being followed.”
“You are absolutely being followed.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
Oom turned the page of her notebook slowly, deliberately, as if pretending hard enough would make reality change.
They were in the Architecture studio, surrounded by drafting tables, scattered materials, and the quiet hum of students pretending to be productive.
Yada leaned closer.
“She’s been watching you for the last ten minutes.”
Oom froze.
“…who.”
Yada didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
Because Oom already knew.
Slowly—carefully—like someone defusing a bomb—
Oom lifted her head.
And there—
Across the room—
Tantan Kaito.
Leaning casually against a desk, arms crossed, gaze steady.
On her.
Oom immediately looked back down.
“…no.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“She is not watching me.”
“She is watching you.”
“She is looking in my general direction.”
“She is looking directly into your soul.”
Oom pressed her pen harder against the paper.
“I refuse to acknowledge that.”
“Too late.”
Yada grinned.
“Congratulations. You’ve attracted the attention of the observer.”
“I don’t want attention.”
“You have a mark on your neck. You are attention.”
Oom stopped writing.
“…stop saying it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’ve been claimed.”
Yada leaned back, thoughtful.
“…I mean—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
“Okay, okay,” Yada laughed. “But seriously. You’re acting weird. You’re avoiding Bam during the day. You’re sneaking out at night. You’re wearing hoodies in summer. And now—”
She gestured vaguely toward Oom’s neck.
“Evidence.”
Oom groaned.
“I told you, it’s not what it looks like.”
“It looks like a kiss.”
“It was a sleep accident.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“It is now!”
Yada leaned forward again, eyes gleaming.
“So what’s the plan tonight?”
Oom froze.
“…why would there be a plan.”
“Because there’s always a plan.”
“There is no plan.”
“You’re going back, aren’t you?”
Silence.
Oom didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
Yada grinned.
“I knew it.”
“I hate that you know me.”
“I love that I know you.”
---
That night—
Oom told herself she wasn’t going back.
She really did.
She stood outside her dorm room, staring at the hallway like she was about to make a life-altering decision.
“I don’t have to go,” she whispered.
She could stay.
Sleep.
Be normal.
Avoid emotional damage.
“…I’m going.”
Of course she was.
Because at this point, it wasn’t even a question.
It was routine.
And that—
That was terrifying.
---
The club room was exactly the same.
Quiet.
Dim.
Waiting.
And there—
On the couch—
Bam Saralee.
Oom exhaled slowly.
“…I’m starting to think you do this on purpose.”
No response.
Of course.
Because Bam was asleep.
Or—
Something like it.
Oom stepped closer.
Her movements slower now.
More careful.
More aware.
Because things had changed.
Not just for Bam—
But for her.
She wasn’t just confused anymore.
She wasn’t just reacting.
She was starting to expect it.
And that—
That was dangerous.
“…I’m here,” she said softly.
Bam stirred immediately.
Like she had been waiting.
Her hand reached out—
Found Oom’s wrist—
And pulled.
No hesitation.
No uncertainty.
Just need.
Oom stumbled forward slightly.
“Okay—hi—hello—!”
Too late.
She was already being pulled down, already caught, already wrapped in the now-familiar hold.
Bam’s arms slid around her waist.
Tight.
Secure.
Unyielding.
“…you came…”
Oom’s heart softened.
“I did.”
Her voice came out quieter this time.
Less panicked.
More… steady.
Because she knew this now.
She understood it.
At least—
A little.
Bam buried her face into Oom’s neck again, exhaling softly, like she had finally relaxed after holding her breath all day.
“…I waited…”
Oom froze.
“You—what?”
But Bam didn’t respond.
She just held her tighter.
Oom’s brain scrambled.
She waited?
For her?
All day?
“…that’s not fair,” Oom whispered.
Because how was she supposed to deal with that?
How was she supposed to process that?
During the day—
Bam barely acknowledged her.
And at night—
She waited.
For her.
“…stay…”
Oom exhaled slowly.
“I’m staying.”
There was no hesitation anymore.
No internal debate.
Just acceptance.
Her hands settled naturally against Bam’s back, holding her just as firmly.
And Bam—
Relaxed immediately.
Like that was all she needed.
“…you always say that,” Oom murmured.
No response.
But Bam’s grip tightened slightly.
As if confirming it.
As if trusting it.
Oom swallowed.
Because this—
This was becoming something else.
Something deeper.
Something that didn’t feel like an accident anymore.
She shifted slightly—
Testing.
Just a little.
Bam reacted instantly.
Her hand slid up, gripping Oom’s side more firmly, pulling her closer.
“Don’t.”
The word was soft.
But clear.
Oom stopped moving.
“Okay.”
Immediate.
Obedient.
“…this is concerning,” she whispered.
Because at this point—
She wasn’t even trying to resist.
She was just… responding.
Adjusting.
Matching Bam’s movements without thinking.
Like they had fallen into some kind of rhythm.
A pattern.
A habit.
And habits—
Were dangerous.
Bam shifted again.
Her head tilting slightly.
Her lips brushing—
Not accidental this time.
Not quite.
Closer.
Slower.
Intentional.
Oom’s breath caught.
“…senpai—”
“…stay…”
The word came out softer this time.
Almost a whisper.
Almost a plea.
And then—
Bam moved.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
Her lips found Oom’s.
Soft.
Warm.
Real.
Oom stopped existing.
There was no panic.
No immediate reaction.
Just—
Stillness.
Shock.
Her brain buffering.
Processing.
This is happening.
This is actually happening.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three—
Oom kissed back.
Very slightly.
Very carefully.
Like she was testing reality itself.
Like if she moved too much, it would disappear.
Bam responded instantly.
Her grip tightened.
Her body leaning closer.
Closer.
Like she had been waiting for that.
Like she needed that.
Oom’s heart exploded.
Then—
Bam pulled back.
Just slightly.
Her breathing soft.
Uneven.
“…you stayed…”
Oom couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t function.
Because that—
That was not accidental.
That was not unconscious.
That was—
Something else.
Something intentional.
Something real.
“…what just happened,” Oom whispered.
No answer.
Only Bam’s steady breathing.
Her arms still wrapped around her.
Holding her like nothing had changed.
Like everything had changed.
Oom swallowed.
Because now—
There was no going back.
No pretending.
No denying.
Because Bam Saralee—
Cold, distant, untouchable Bam—
Had just kissed her.
And this time—
Oom kissed back.