The faint aroma of cafeteria curry drifted down the hallway. Lunchtime chatter buzzed through the corridors, filling the air with a sense of routine comfort. For most students, it was a brief reprieve from the grind of tests and rumors. For others, like Ayanokōji Kiyotaka, it was another hour to quietly observe the world moving around him.
Horikita Suzune stood by his desk, tapping a closed paperback against her palm. Her face, as usual, betrayed little emotion.
"Do you have a moment, Ayanokōji-kun?"
He looked up from his lunch box. "What's wrong?"
She held the book out toward him. The cover read Farewell, My Lovely by Raymond Chandler.
"This is due today. I was supposed to return it to the library, but I'll be busy after school. You could return it for me, right?"
He blinked. "Why me?"
"Because," she said with her usual logic, "you wanted to borrow it last week but couldn't because it was already taken. This way, it's efficient. You can return it and be the next person to borrow it."
He stared at her a moment longer, a faint sigh escaping his lips. "You know, you could've just said you wanted to do me a favor."
"I don't do favors," she replied crisply. "I do what's efficient. Don't forget to renew it if the librarian asks."
Before he could respond, she was already walking off, her black hair swaying behind her.
From my desk, I looked up at him with a smirk. "Looks like she's starting to trust you with small errands now. That's basically affection for Horikita."
"Or exploitation," he muttered, standing and taking the book.
"Well," I said, standing too, "I'm bored, so I'll come with you. Beats eating alone."
He gave me a glance that said suit yourself before heading toward the door.
The school library was always a world apart. Rows of neatly aligned shelves stretched like quiet guardians of knowledge, their spines gleaming in the soft light that filtered through the tall windows. The silence here wasn't empty — it was alive with thought, with invisible whispers from a thousand different authors.
Ayanokōji stepped up to the counter and returned Horikita's book without a word. I lingered nearby, flipping through a magazine.
Then, as if on a whim, he turned back toward the shelves. "Might as well get another book while I'm here," he murmured.
He made his way toward the mystery section. His pace was slow, deliberate, eyes tracing titles like a detective scanning a crime scene. I followed at a distance, curious where his quiet curiosity would lead.
Then, just as his fingers brushed the spine of The Big Sleep, he froze.
Near the next shelf, a girl was standing on her toes, struggling to reach a book on the higher rack. Her hand wavered dangerously close to knocking down several others.
"...Hold on," Ayanokōji said, stepping closer.
She turned in mild surprise just as he reached up effortlessly and plucked the book free.
"Here," he said, handing it to her. "Wuthering Heights, right?"
She accepted it carefully with both hands, bowing slightly. "Ah, thank you. It was placed incorrectly, and I thought I should return it to the right spot."
Her voice was soft and even, like the calm ripples of a pond. When she looked up, her eyes carried that same serenity — thoughtful, observant, and strangely kind.
Ayanokōji blinked. "Shiina… from Class C, right?"
"Yes. Hiyori Shiina," she said with a small smile. "You're Ayanokōji Kiyotaka, from Class D. We've met before — briefly, during the island test."
Her tone was light but precise, as if each word had been chosen carefully.
I leaned against the shelf a few feet away, pretending to browse. So this is the quiet girl from Ryuuen's class… interesting.
Ayanokōji glanced at the book still in his hand — Farewell, My Lovely.
Shiina's eyes lit up instantly. "Ah, that one! It's quite popular among the second years right now. Did you manage to get it?"
"I borrowed it," he replied. "Returning it for a friend."
"I see. I've already read it once, but I'd like to again someday," she said wistfully. "Chandler's prose feels… alive."
He nodded slightly. "Sorry for being thoughtless, then."
She waved her hands quickly. "No, no. Don't apologise. It's wonderful that someone else is reading it. Books are meant to be shared, after all."
Her words carried a sincerity that even Ayanokōji found slightly disarming.
He turned to leave, but Shiina tilted her head curiously. "Are you looking for another book? You could've just returned that one at the counter."
"I like to browse," he replied simply.
"Then," she said suddenly, her voice rising just a little, "how about some recommendations?"
Ayanokōji blinked. "Recommendations?"
"Yes!" she said, clasping her hands together. "There's Whose Body? by Dorothy L. Sayers, or maybe The Screaming Mimi by Fredric Brown. Oh, or The Thin Man—"
She went on, listing titles with an enthusiasm that filled the silent library with a kind of gentle warmth.
Ayanokōji watched her with faint surprise. When she finally realised she was rambling, she bowed apologetically. "Ah, I'm sorry. I just get excited talking about books. You must think I'm strange."
He shook his head. "No. Just unexpected."
Her smile returned, a little sheepish but genuine. "Then that's fine."
After a small pause, she asked, "Would you like to have lunch together?"
Even Ayanokōji couldn't hide a flicker of surprise."Lunch?"
"Yes," she said with that same quiet certainty. "I rarely have someone to talk to about books. No one in my class really reads. They think it's boring."
From my spot nearby, I arched a brow. Bold move, Shiina.
He looked at her, studying her expression for any trace of ulterior motive. Is this Ryuuen's doing? he wondered. But her eyes — open and guileless — didn't match the manipulative precision of Ryuuen's schemes.
"Alright," he said finally. "I don't mind."
Her face brightened instantly. "Really? Thank you."
I caught up with them as they exited the library. "You sure about this, Kiyotaka? Having lunch with a Class C girl seems… risky."
"She's harmless," he said quietly. "Probably."
Shiina looked at me curiously. "You're Miyamoto-san, right? From the same class?"
"Yeah," I replied with a grin. "Just tagging along. Hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," she said warmly.
The cafeteria was half-filled, the hum of conversation blending with the clatter of trays. Ayanokōji went straight for the daily special — grilled mackerel, rice, and miso soup. Shiina lingered indecisively by the counter.
"Umm… maybe this one? Or that… no, maybe—"
In the end, she sighed and smiled awkwardly. "I'll just take the same as you, Ayanokōji-kun."
"Copying me already?" he asked dryly.
She laughed softly. "I'm not good at choosing. I always overthink things."
As they carried their trays, Ayanokōji noticed her struggling — trying to balance her tray with her school bag slipping off her shoulder.
He offered casually, "Here, I'll carry that."
"Eh? Oh—thank you!" she said, passing it over.
He lifted it and immediately noted the weight. Heavy. What's in here?
"Books," she said, catching his curious glance. "I always carry a few with me. It's… comforting."
They sat by the window, where sunlight filtered through in golden stripes. Shiina ate delicately, her movements graceful, almost refined.
Ayanokōji watched quietly as she handled her chopsticks with perfect precision. She's oddly refined for someone in Ryuuen's class, he thought.
Shiina seemed to notice his gaze. "Something wrong?"
"Just… surprised," he said. "You seem different from your classmates."
She chuckled lightly. "I take that as a compliment."
They ate in comfortable silence for a moment. Then, Shiina spoke again. "You know, this is my first time eating here."
"Really?"
"Yes. I usually eat alone in my room while reading. But… this isn't bad. I wouldn't mind coming again."
Her tone carried a quiet sincerity that made Ayanokōji pause.
When they finished eating, she reached into her bag and pulled out four books. The titles caught his eye immediately.
"William Irish, Ellery Queen, Lawrence Block, and Isaac Asimov…" he read aloud.
She smiled. "Have you read any of them?"
"Some," he admitted. "You have good taste."
"They're from my personal collection," she said softly, sliding the stack toward him. "If you'd like, you can borrow one. I don't usually have anyone to share them with."
He hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Of course. Take whichever you like."
He scanned the covers and picked up the Ellery Queen novel. "I've never read his work before."
Her eyes sparkled. "Then I hope you'll like it. Maybe next time, we can talk about it."
He nodded slightly. "Sure."
Still, as they walked out of the cafeteria, Ayanokōji couldn't shake the faint unease creeping through his thoughts.
It could all be genuine… or it could all be bait.
Shiina walked beside him, humming softly, her bag once again heavy with unread stories.
He decided not to overanalyze it — not yet. Some mysteries weren't meant to be solved in one sitting.
Back in the hallway, I nudged him lightly. "So, how was your little library date?"
"Not a date," he said flatly.
"Sure, sure. But she's… interesting, isn't she?"
He nodded slightly. "Yeah. Too interesting, maybe."
We both glanced back — Shiina was walking down the opposite corridor now, her long hair catching the sunlight as she turned a corner and disappeared.
"She's different from the rest of Class C," I said quietly.
Ayanokōji's gaze lingered on the spot where she vanished. "That's what worries me."