Hikari's arrival was a whirlwind of carefully orchestrated chaos. She descended on Kuro's spartan dorm room like a force of nature, filling it with a warmth and energy it had never known. She claimed the "Juilliard masterclass" was "inspiring but draining" and insisted on being a normal tourist for a day.
Her definition of being a tourist, of course, was a meticulously planned operation.
"We should get lunch," she announced, her tone leaving no room for argument. "And we should invite your project partner, Maya. It would be rude not to. She seems nice."
Kuro knew he had been outmaneuvered from the moment she had booked her flight. Arguing was futile. He sent a curt, awkward message to Maya, extending the invitation. To his surprise, she accepted immediately.
The lunch, at a small, quiet cafe off campus, was the most stressful social engagement of Kuro's life. He sat in silence, processing the conversation like a malfunctioning server, while Hikari and Maya talked with an ease that baffled him.
Hikari, in her role as the "charming, prodigy little sister," was a master. She spoke about her music, about traveling, about her supposed life in Switzerland. She was building a persona for Maya, a picture of a normal, if exceptionally talented, family.
"It must be amazing having Kuro as a brother," Maya said, taking the bait Hikari had so expertly laid. "He's so brilliant."
"Oh, he's a nightmare!" Hikari laughed, a light, tinkling sound. "He once tried to optimize our cat's sleeping schedule for 'maximum energy efficiency.' The cat was not amused." She leaned in, her voice becoming conspiratorial. "And don't ever ask him to order a coffee. You'll be there for a week while he analyzes the barista's blinking patterns."
Kuro felt his face flush. The data was accurate, but the context was mortifying.
Maya laughed, a genuine, warm sound. "That actually explains a lot." She looked at Kuro, not with judgment, but with a new, deeper level of understanding.
Hikari watched the exchange, her empathic senses registering a critical success. She had transformed Kuro from an intimidating, unknowable genius into an awkward, relatable human being. She had given Maya permission to see past the intellect and connect with the person behind it. The bond between them, which had been purely intellectual, was now becoming personal.
Later, as they walked back to the dorm, Maya fell into step beside Kuro. "Your sister is amazing," she said.
"She is… a significant variable," Kuro replied, the most sentimental compliment he could muster.
"She's right, you know," Maya said, a playful glint in her eye. "You do overthink things." Before he could process her statement, she did something completely illogical. She quickly reached out and squeezed his hand, a brief, warm touch. "Sometimes you just have to go with it."
She smiled and walked away, leaving Kuro standing frozen on the sidewalk. He looked down at his hand. His internal sensors were going haywire. Heart rate: 120 bpm. Skin temperature: elevated. A cascade of conflicting emotional data flooded his brain. For the first time, he was faced with a variable he had absolutely no desire to analyze. He just wanted to feel it again.