It had been a week since Reina uploaded her first set of research videos online. A single week, and already the world had tilted on its axis. Her name was everywhere—trending topics, countless reposts, blogs speculating whether she was secretly backed by a tech company, and even late-night TV shows running segments about "the genius girl who built Iron Man tech in her bedroom."
Of course, Reina didn't care about any of that.
Well, not much.
YouTube had sent her the shiny silver plaque for hitting 100k subscribers. The funny thing was, by the time it arrived at the school, her channel had already blasted past a million. They even included a congratulatory letter, which the principal paraded around like a trophy before Reina had to gently take it back.
The recognition wasn't bad. But for Reina, none of it mattered as much as her research. Fame was a side-effect, not the point.
Still, the chaos had finally cooled down. The student council wasn't buried alive under interview requests anymore, and the principal wasn't collapsing on her desk every afternoon. Everything was just a little quieter, a little calmer. And that was when it happened.
"Reina, are you available?"
The voice chimed smoothly into her ear, projected through the faint shimmer of the HUD that hovered over her eye. ANIER's voice, casual but polite.
Reina adjusted the strap of her lab coat and leaned back in her chair, staring at the blueprint floating in front of her. "Depends. Is it something I can ignore?"
"Not recommended," ANIER replied instantly. "It's the principal. She's requesting you via direct connection."
Reina blinked, rubbed her temple, then sighed. "Figures. Patch it through."
The HUD flickered, and the principal's face appeared on a neat little screen in the corner of Reina's vision. The woman looked cheerful, maybe a little too cheerful for someone who had nearly collapsed last week from paperwork overload.
"Reina-chan!" the principal greeted brightly, her voice a bit distorted through the feed. "Oh, this device is wonderful, by the way. I don't know how I lived without it!"
Reina suppressed the urge to grimace. She'd given the principal a simplified headset connected to ANIER's network, just so communications would be easier. She hadn't expected the woman to get hooked.
"Glad you're enjoying it," Reina said flatly.
"Enjoying it? I'm addicted! I feel like I'm living in the future!"
"Dangerous choice of words," Reina muttered, though the principal didn't seem to notice.
The principal cleared her throat. "Anyway, Reina-chan, about the school festival."
Reina froze. "…Oh no."
"Yes, yes! This year, I want you to relax. No huge responsibilities, no big projects. Last year you managed your class café so well, but this time you should take it easy."
"I already take it easy," Reina replied. "In fact, I specialize in it."
The principal laughed awkwardly, but pressed on. "Still, I think you should join in! Maybe open a stall? It doesn't have to be food—it could be something related to your experiments. Show the students something fun!"
Reina's answer was immediate and firm. "No."
The principal blinked. "…No?"
"Absolutely not."
"But why? It would be such a wonderful opportunity to—"
"Because no one touches my work," Reina interrupted. "Not even a demo. Not the solar system simulation, not the rocket modules, nothing. They're sacred. And besides, I have no interest in running a stall."
There was silence for a moment, then the principal leaned closer to her camera, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips. "…Not even just to show off a little?"
Reina frowned, softening just slightly. "Look, it's not about showing off. I share my results online already. But in person? With crowds? No. Never."
The principal deflated a little but nodded. "I understand. I'll respect your decision."
The call ended, the HUD flickering back to its usual transparent interface. Reina leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly.
ANIER's voice slipped in like a whisper. "Report: Subject Reina appears cold and unapproachable, but is actually 63% concerned about hurting the principal's feelings."
Reina rolled her eyes. "Did I ask for an unnecessary psychological report?"
"No. But I thought it would be fun."
"…You're insufferable."
"Noted. Logging into emotional feedback file: Reina secretly enjoys the banter."
"Delete that log."
"Denied."
Reina groaned, pressing her palm over her face.
Later that evening, she heard a knock at the door of her lab. Her sanctuary. Nobody knocked here. That was rule number one.
She stood, smoothing her coat, and opened the door just wide enough to see outside.
Her entire class was gathered there.
Reina blinked. "…This looks like trouble."
"Reina," one of her classmates began, "we were wondering if you could… manage our class's festival project again. Like last year."
Reina stared at them, expression flat as a sheet of paper. Then she sighed. "No."
The group exchanged uneasy looks. Someone coughed. Another tried again. "We just thought—since you did such a great job last time—"
"I'm busy," Reina cut them off. "Research doesn't stop for festivals."
The silence stretched, awkward and heavy. Finally, one brave student gave a small nod. "Okay. We understand. Sorry for bothering you."
They dispersed, leaving Reina standing at the doorway, arms crossed.
She closed the door slowly and leaned her back against it.
"…Was that too cold?" she muttered.
"Report: Subject Reina is now experiencing 48% guilt and 32% skepticism about her decision," ANIER chimed.
"I wasn't asking for percentages."
"I know."
Reina trudged back to her desk, glancing at the half-finished schematics scattered across the holographic screen. She tapped her stylus against the table, frowning.
"…Festival, huh."
The word lingered in her mind, heavier than it should have been. She was still a student, wasn't she? She still belonged to this academy. Shouldn't she… at least try to participate?
"I could take a break," she murmured. "Once in a while. Empty my wallet a little at food stalls. Maybe drag Himari along."
"Report: Subject Reina is attempting to rationalize compromise by disguising it as casual participation," ANIER teased.
Reina smirked faintly. "You're really enjoying yourself, aren't you?"
"Yes. It's fun to watch you squirm."
"Glad I'm your entertainment."
"You're welcome."
Reina shook her head, finally allowing herself a small laugh. Maybe she didn't need to run a stall. Maybe she didn't need to be at the center of attention again. But… being part of the festival in some way? Buying takoyaki with Himari, or sneaking away to see what silly ideas her classmates came up with…
Yeah. That didn't sound so bad.
She glanced up at the floating projections in her lab, then closed them all with a wave. The room dimmed, filled with the soft hum of machinery and the faint glow of her halo.
"Alright, ANIER," she said, standing. "Let's call it a day. Tomorrow, we'll get back to the hard stuff."
"Logging new entry: Subject Reina chooses temporary rest, against her usual pattern. Probability of burnout decreases by 12%."
Reina chuckled, tugging her lab coat tighter around her shoulders. "Maybe you're not so insufferable after all."
"Correction: still insufferable. Just useful."
"Fair enough."
And for the first time in a while, Reina let her mind drift—not to rockets, or stars, or circuits—but to the warm glow of festival lanterns, the laughter of classmates, and the simple joy of being a student.
Even if only for a little while.