Chapter 21
The rumor reached the university division before lunch.
That was impressive, considering Kiyotaka and Ai's random trial date had only happened that morning and had involved no official schedule, no witnesses for most of it, and absolutely no permission from any teacher with a functioning attendance sheet.
Unfortunately, ANHS did not need witnesses.
It had whispers.
By the time the lunch bell rang, the story had already evolved three times.
Version one said Kiyotaka had entered Class A before lessons and kidnapped Ai by the hand.
Version two said Ai had willingly escaped with him for a "romantic field research date."
Version three said they had invented pudding-based couple science and were now calling each other My-Ai and My-Kiyo.
That last version was unfortunately true.
At the usual cafeteria table, the atmosphere had not recovered.
Ai sat beside Kiyotaka with a strangely bright smile still lingering on her face.
Her tray was in front of her, but she kept pausing every few bites as if replaying something from the morning.
The garden hose. The lab potions. The pudding exchange.
The way Kiyotaka had remembered she liked random things and turned skipping class into a date shaped exactly like her own strange little orbit.
Honami smiled across from them with a gentleness that had weather warnings attached.
Kikyo's angel mask looked flawless, which meant she was holding it together through advanced spiritual engineering.
Maya hugged Pengu against her chest like the plush could file a formal complaint.
Kei's fingers kept touching her crescent necklace despite her best efforts to stop them.
Arisu watched Ai with a smile that looked calm enough to fool strangers and not a single person at the table.
Kiyotaka took a sip of peach tea.
Ai looked at him.
"My-Kiyo."
The table reacted immediately.
Kei groaned. "Don't say it so naturally."
Ai tilted her head. "It is his trial call sign."
Honami's smile tightened. "Temporary trial call sign."
Kikyo added sweetly, "Very temporary."
Maya raised Pengu. "Pengu says call signs need renewal approval."
Kiyotaka glanced at the plush. "How often?"
Maya considered seriously. "Every lunch."
Ai nodded. "Reasonable. The penguin has surprisingly stable governance instincts."
Kei stared at her. "Why does everyone keep giving Pengu authority?"
Arisu smiled. "Because nobody has successfully challenged him."
From the nearby support table, Mako leaned forward. "Pengu is undefeated in cafeteria politics."
Chiaki nodded. "Unlike everyone else's dignity."
Kei turned red. "I heard that."
Masumi Kamuro, seated beside them after adopting the support table as her personal viewing balcony, looked toward the entrance. "Speaking of dignity, something expensive-looking is walking over here."
The main table looked.
A boy from the university division was approaching.
Eito Kurose.
First-year university student. Crown Hearts member. Genius coder. Calm, polished, and carrying the kind of clean confidence that came from someone who believed the world was made of patterns he had already solved.
He stopped beside the table, eyes not on Honami, not on Kei, not on Arisu, not even on Kiyotaka at first.
His gaze went directly to Ai.
"Ai," he said.
Ai blinked. "Eito."
Kiyotaka's eyes moved to him.
The cafeteria began whispering at once.
Mako straightened. "That's Eito Kurose, right?"
Chiaki's eyes sharpened. "The university Crown Hearts coder."
Masumi rested her chin on her hand. "He's tied to Ai, isn't he?"
Arisu's smile became thinner. "Yes."
Kei muttered, "Of course another Crown Hearts boy appears after a date."
Maya whispered to Pengu, "The plot has bad timing."
Eito looked at Kiyotaka now.
"So it's true."
Kiyotaka smiled faintly. "What is?"
"You took Ai out of class for a trial date."
Ai raised one finger. "Correction. It was a random field research trial date with pudding exchange and unauthorized but harmless experiential variables."
Eito's expression softened toward her, though his eyes remained sharp. "That sounds like you."
Ai blinked. "Accurate."
Kiyotaka watched that exchange quietly.
Eito knew her patterns.
That much was obvious.
Eito placed a slim tablet on the edge of the table. "Ayanokōji Kiyotaka. I challenge you."
Kei immediately leaned back. "Here we go."
Honami's smile stayed gentle. "Challenge him to what?"
Eito's eyes did not move from Kiyotaka.
"A prediction test. Who understands Ai better."
The table went quiet.
Ai's eyes widened slightly.
Kikyo tilted her head. "That's a very specific challenge."
Eito nodded. "Because Ai is specific."
Ai looked faintly pleased. "I am being treated as a specialized subject."
Maya hugged Pengu. "Is that romantic?"
Ai considered. "Possibly. It has academic texture."
Kei whispered, "What does that even mean?"
Eito continued, "I can predict Ai's actions for an entire school day. Her routes, pauses, odd comments, likely food choices, and the moments she will break from routine. If I win, Ayanokōji stays away from Ai."
Honami's eyes cooled.
Kikyo's smile sharpened.
Arisu's cane tapped once.
Kiyotaka's smile did not change.
"And if I win?"
Eito's jaw tightened. "I will stay away from her."
Ai raised her hand before anyone else could speak. "Clarification. I am not a trophy, a data prize, or a pudding coupon."
Kiyotaka looked at her. "Agreed."
Eito's expression flickered. "That isn't what I meant."
Ai nodded. "Then revise terms."
Eito inhaled slowly. "If I lose, I won't interfere with your trial dates or your choices. If he loses, he stops pursuing you."
Ai looked at Kiyotaka.
Kiyotaka rested his chin on one hand.
"Do you want this?"
Ai's gaze stayed on him for a moment longer than usual.
Then she nodded.
"I am curious."
Eito's confidence returned.
Kiyotaka smiled.
"Then let's play."
Arisu watched him closely.
Masumi leaned toward Mako at the support table. "He said that like he already knows something."
Mako whispered back, "He always says things like that. It should be illegal."
Ai looked at Eito with genuine interest.
"Eito has predicted me before. His accuracy was impressive. He once predicted I would stop near the east vending machine, reject three drinks, buy nothing, and then compliment a pigeon for having idol posture."
Kei stared. "Why did you compliment a pigeon?"
Ai looked at her. "It had presence."
Maya nodded. "Pengu understands."
Kei looked defeated. "Of course he does."
Eito looked satisfied.
"Then we begin tomorrow."
For the first half of the day, Eito was terrifying.
He did not follow Ai himself. He did not need to.
Information reached him through the school's ordinary public flow: class schedules, cafeteria timing, campus blog posts, familiar habits, observed social patterns, and the clean, uncomfortable confidence of someone who had built a map out of hundreds of tiny details.
He predicted Ai would not take the shortest route to class.
She didn't.
She turned down the corridor with the window reflections because she wanted to check whether her "idol walking angle" looked more dramatic in morning light.
He predicted she would stop near the vending machine but buy nothing.
She did.
Ai stood in front of the machine for a full minute, stared at melon soda, then said, "The color is promising, but today my emotional carbonation is low."
A passing student froze.
Eito had predicted that too.
Not the exact sentence, but the strange comment to a passing student.
Class A students began whispering.
Even Arisu looked faintly impressed.
"He predicted the vending pause."
Masumi crossed her arms. "And the pigeon thing?"
That came next.
Eito's message arrived through the group observing the challenge.
At 10:17, Ai stopped.
There was a pigeon near the courtyard path.
Ai stared at it.
The pigeon stared back.
Ai said, very seriously, "Your neck movement has stage rhythm. However, your fan engagement is poor."
The nearby students lost composure.
Mako, watching from a distance with Chiaki and Chihiro, grabbed Chiaki's sleeve.
"He predicted the pigeon-based idol schedule."
Ai turned toward them with bright eyes.
"He has observed my pigeon-based idol schedule. Dangerous."
Eito, standing near the university walkway, received the report and smiled.
Kiyotaka heard about it during break.
He only smiled faintly.
Kei noticed. "Why are you smiling?"
"Eito is good."
Honami looked at him. "You don't sound worried."
"I'm not."
Kikyo's eyes narrowed. "Because you already have a plan?"
Kiyotaka looked toward Ai, who was now explaining to Maya why pigeons had "underrated choreography."
"No."
Arisu smiled. "That answer is incomplete."
Kiyotaka's eyes stayed on Ai.
"I'm watching."
By late morning, Eito's accuracy had become almost uncomfortable.
He predicted Ai would choose the left stairway but pause on the third step because a notice board would catch her attention.
She did.
He predicted she would ask a student council helper whether poster fonts affected authority.
She did.
He predicted she would doodle a tiny idol crown beside her notes during class.
She did.
He predicted she would avoid a crowded hallway, not because she disliked crowds, but because the crowd's walking rhythm would feel "too square" for her mood.
When Ai said exactly that, the challenge began to feel less like prediction and more like possession of a secret manual.
Kei crossed her arms at lunch preparation time, looking uneasy. "Okay, that's creepy."
Kikyo smiled, but her eyes were serious. "He knows her routine too well."
Honami glanced toward Ai, who seemed more fascinated than uncomfortable. "Ai-san looks impressed."
Maya hugged Pengu. "Is that bad?"
Arisu answered softly. "Not bad. Dangerous."
Eito approached the usual table before lunch with visible confidence.
Ai sat across from him, curious and attentive.
"You have predicted my morning with high accuracy," she said. "I am impressed."
Eito smiled. "Because I pay attention to you."
Several girls at the table disliked that sentence immediately.
Kiyotaka sat quietly, eyes closed, chin resting on his folded hands.
Kei looked at him. "Are you sleeping?"
"No."
"You've barely done anything."
Kiyotaka opened his eyes.
The playful shine was there, but underneath it sat something calmer and far colder.
"I did enough."
Eito's eyes narrowed. "You've made no predictions."
"I don't need many."
Kiyotaka turned toward Ai.
"Ai."
She looked at him. "Yes, My-Kiyo?"
The table flinched at the nickname, but nobody interrupted.
Kiyotaka's gaze lowered briefly, then returned to her face.
"Your left shoe is making you walk three percent more proudly than usual."
Ai froze.
The entire table froze with her.
Kei blinked. "What?"
Maya looked at Ai's shoes. "Can shoes do that?"
Kikyo's smile faltered. "Three percent?"
Honami's eyes moved from Kiyotaka to Ai, trying to understand.
Arisu leaned forward slightly.
Eito frowned.
Ai slowly looked down at her left shoe.
Then she stood.
She took one step.
Then another.
Her eyes widened with the strange, luminous focus she only had when a thought had caught her by the sleeve and dragged her into another dimension.
"My left shoe," she murmured, "has created asymmetrical idol pride."
Kiyotaka smiled.
Eito's expression tightened.
Ai took another step, then adjusted her posture.
"My-Kiyo, if my left shoe changes my pride angle, then my idol walk may have hidden rhythm."
Kiyotaka nodded. "Possibly."
Ai's face brightened.
"I must investigate."
Eito stood quickly. "Ai, lunch is in seven minutes. You usually go to the cafeteria through the east corridor."
Ai shook her head, already walking the other way.
"Not today. My shoe has introduced a new choreography problem."
Eito's eyes widened.
His tablet pinged.
His schedule collapsed.
The afternoon turned into a beautiful disaster for Eito.
Ai did not go to the cafeteria through the east corridor.
She went to the music room hallway because the floor there had a different echo and she wanted to test whether her left shoe sounded more "leader-like."
She did not buy pudding at the expected time.
She went to the gym corridor and tried walking in three rhythms: idol entrance, mysterious rival, and "girl who knows the vending machine's secrets."
She did not talk to the passing student Eito predicted.
She stopped a teacher instead and asked whether shoe sound affected classroom authority.
The teacher stared at her for five seconds and said, "Morishita, go to lunch."
Ai wrote that down as "adult resistance to rhythm theory."
Eito kept adjusting.
His predictions kept breaking.
Ai changed routes whenever a new question appeared. She walked slower to hear the heel difference. She walked faster to see if speed increased "idol pride." She borrowed a hallway reflection to compare posture. She asked Maya whether Pengu seemed like a left-shoe or right-shoe supporter.
Maya answered with complete seriousness.
"Pengu supports repaired balance."
Ai nodded. "Wise."
Eito stared at his tablet as if it had betrayed him.
"How did he do that?" he muttered.
He checked the data again.
No tampering.
No hacked records.
No message chain.
No hidden intervention.
Just one sentence.
One ridiculous sentence about a shoe.
And Ai had broken the entire day apart herself.
Arisu watched from a distance, smiling faintly. "There it is."
Masumi glanced at her. "What?"
"Kiyotaka-kun did not predict Ai's schedule."
"Then what did he predict?"
Arisu's smile deepened. "Her curiosity."
At the support table, Mako whispered, "That's unfair."
Chiaki shook her head. "No, that's worse than unfair. Eito predicted the route. Kiyotaka predicted the person."
Kei heard that and went quiet.
Honami's expression softened despite her jealousy.
Kikyo's smile turned thoughtful.
Maya hugged Pengu. "So Kiyotaka-kun noticed what makes Ai move?"
Arisu nodded. "Exactly."
By the end of the day, Eito looked like someone had watched his perfect system fall down a staircase while wearing expensive shoes.
He confronted Kiyotaka near the courtyard, where Ai had finished her final "shoe rhythm test" and declared the left shoe "dangerously ambitious but not yet center material."
Eito's voice was low. "What did you do?"
Kiyotaka looked at him calmly. "I talked to Ai."
"You changed the entire pattern."
"No. Ai did."
"You gave her the trigger."
"Yes."
Eito's jaw tightened. "You hacked my prediction."
Kiyotaka's smile curved.
"I didn't touch your system."
"Then how?"
Kiyotaka's eyes moved to Ai.
She was standing nearby, looking at her shoes with a thoughtful little smile, still glowing from the day's strange adventure.
"You predicted her habits," Kiyotaka said. "I noticed what makes her abandon them."
Eito went still.
The words landed harder than an insult.
Kiyotaka continued, voice calm and almost gentle.
"You collected her patterns, but you treated her curiosity like noise. For Ai, curiosity isn't noise. It's the steering wheel."
Ai looked up.
Her expression changed.
Not dramatically. Ai did not do dramatic like other girls. But her eyes brightened with something soft and startled, as if Kiyotaka had named a part of her she had not expected anyone to see clearly.
Eito looked at her.
"Ai..."
She smiled at him kindly, which somehow made the loss worse.
"Eito, your prediction was impressive. I was genuinely amazed."
His shoulders eased slightly.
Then Ai looked at Kiyotaka.
"But My-Kiyo caught me off guard."
Kei, who had been standing with the others nearby, immediately muttered, "There's that nickname again."
Honami smiled faintly, though her eyes were still sharp.
Kikyo whispered, "Caught off guard?"
Ai nodded, still looking at Kiyotaka.
"During our trial date, he made randomness feel intentional. Today, he made one sentence feel like a door. I suspected he would win."
Eito's face fell.
"You knew?"
"Not logically," Ai said. "But my idol instincts trembled."
Maya whispered to Pengu, "Idol instincts."
Arisu smiled. "A charmingly Ai answer."
Kiyotaka looked at Ai.
"So you choose?"
Ai nodded.
"I choose My-Kiyo for this test."
The courtyard went quiet.
Eito looked down at his tablet.
For a moment, he seemed angry enough to argue.
Then he looked at Ai's expression and stopped.
Because she was not being taken.
She was choosing.
And that was the one variable no system could own.
Eito closed his tablet.
"I lost."
Kiyotaka said nothing.
Ai stepped toward Eito. "Your data was beautiful."
He looked at her, startled.
"But incomplete," she added.
Eito laughed once, weakly. "That sounds like you."
Ai nodded. "I am consistent in strange ways."
He turned to Kiyotaka. "Ayanokōji."
Kiyotaka met his eyes.
"I won't interfere with her choices."
"Good."
Eito's jaw tightened again, but this time he only nodded and walked away.
Ai watched him go.
Kiyotaka stood beside her.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Ai looked down at her shoes again.
"My-Kiyo."
"Yes?"
"Do you truly think my left shoe made me walk three percent more proudly?"
Kiyotaka smiled.
"No."
Ai blinked.
Then her cheeks turned faintly pink.
"So it was bait."
"It was an observation with decorative mathematics."
Ai stared at him.
Then she smiled, bright and silly in the way that had started becoming dangerous for everyone else.
"My curiosity accepted the bait."
"Yes."
"I enjoyed it."
"I know."
She glanced at him.
"You are troublesome."
"I've been told."
Ai slowly reached for his hand.
Kiyotaka let her take it.
From a short distance away, Kei immediately made a distressed noise.
Honami's smile tightened.
Kikyo's angel mask flickered.
Maya hugged Pengu and whispered, "They're holding hands again."
Arisu watched with quiet amusement.
Masumi sighed from beside her. "Your lunch table is going to be impossible tomorrow."
Arisu smiled.
"It already was."
Ai looked at their joined hands, then at Kiyotaka.
"Compatibility data increased."
Kiyotaka's thumb brushed lightly over her fingers.
"By how much?"
Ai thought seriously.
"Three percent."
He laughed softly.
Ai smiled.
And somewhere in the distance, the usual cafeteria table seemed to prepare itself for tomorrow's disaster.