You'd think receiving a homemade lunch from a beautiful girl would be a blessing.
A reward.
A sign that, maybe, just maybe, your high school romcom life was finally kicking off.
But when that lunch is made by Rika Kurose, the coldest, most stoic girl in school—a girl who once filed a complaint because someone sneezed too loudly in the library—and it happens immediately after you imagined her doing that exact thing?
That's not a blessing.
That's a curse.
A cosmic threat.
And I am not equipped to deal with this kind of power.
The lunchbox sat on the table like a live bomb.
I stared at it for a full five minutes, unmoving, while Aya sat across from me, drying her hair with a towel and watching a cooking show like nothing was wrong.
Nothing was fine.
Everything was cursed.
My entire existence had become a gacha pull for awkward fanservice situations.
"She really came all the way here?" Aya asked casually.
"She did," I muttered.
"To bring you a homemade lunch?"
"Yep."
Aya paused, then looked at me like I'd grown a second head.
"You don't even talk to her."
"I know."
"She literally told the PE teacher to mark you absent because your tie was crooked."
"I know."
"So... why?"
I sighed and slumped forward.
"Because I thought about her this morning."
"...Okay, you're gonna need to explain that before I start throwing things."
I gave her the shortest, dumbest explanation I could manage:
"Whenever I have a lewd or romantic thought, it keeps... becoming reality."
She blinked. "Like... literally?"
I nodded solemnly. "Natsuki-sensei. The button. You. The towel. Now Rika. The lunchbox."
She stared at me. Then the lunchbox.
Then back at me.
Then she said the most chilling sentence of the day:
"So what happens if you imagine something really extreme?"
I froze.
So did she.
We both stared at each other like two kids who just realized they'd found a loaded weapon in the toy chest.
"Don't," she said quickly.
"I wasn't going to!" I snapped.
"I can see it happening in your face right now. You're picturing something!"
"I'M NOT. I'M THINKING ABOUT NOTHING. I'M PURE."
"Your face is not pure, Kazuki."
To protect the universe from my own brain, I went back to my room and locked the door.
I placed the lunchbox in the middle of my desk like it was an ancient artifact.
What if this was some kind of test?
A trap?
Maybe if I opened it, Rika would magically appear behind me in an apron.
Worse—what if I imagined her doing that just now, and that's enough to trigger it?
I covered my eyes.
No. Control. Calm. Rationality.
I sat on the bed and started deep breathing.
One breath in: I am a rock.
One breath out: I am emotionless.
In: I am an honorable, clean-minded—
"Hey, Kazuki," came Aya's voice from the other side of the door. "Did you imagine me in a maid outfit just now?"
My soul evacuated.
I leapt to the door.
"I didn't!"
"You totally did."
"It was a reflex hallucination!"
"That's not a thing!"
I dropped to my knees, hands clasped in prayer.
"Please, Aya. You're my only defense against this madness. Don't feed the curse."
"I'm not the one summoning anime tropes into the house!"
"That's fair."
Ten minutes later, I opened the lunchbox.
Very slowly.
Very carefully.
Inside, it was... normal.
Rice. Egg. Rolled omelet. Neatly cut vegetables. Some kind of meatball shaped like a heart.
...
Why.
Why the heart.
WHY THE HEART.
This was textbook dere-dere bento presentation.
Did she do this on purpose?
Or worse...
...did I accidentally make her do this?
The terrifying part was that I didn't even remember imagining heart-shaped food. But my brain? It runs on autopilot. Who knows what kind of stray thoughts I've dropped into the void lately?
My phone buzzed.
A message.
From Rika Kurose.
[Kurose Rika]: Did you eat it?
I stared at the screen.
What was the correct answer here?
Was this a trap?
A second buzz.
[Kurose Rika]: I followed a guide. The heart meatball is optional. Delete it with your chopsticks if it embarrasses you.
...
She knew.
I typed back:
[Me]: No, it's fine. It's good. It's... edible. I mean, good. Sorry. Brain lag.
Then, a third buzz.
[Kurose Rika]: You're strange. But I don't dislike that.
My heart stopped.
I dropped the phone.
I was too scared to think anything else.
So I turned off the lights, sat in the corner of my room, and tried to recite the multiplication table until my brain calmed down.
Unfortunately, the universe had other plans.
Because that's when my window slid open.
And Natsuki-sensei, wearing casual clothes and holding a bag of groceries, peeked her head in.
"Haruma-kun," she said, utterly calm. "I forgot to return your umbrella the other day. Also, your fridge is depressingly empty."
My soul began to ascend.
Not in peace. But in fear.