If routines are walls, then Aiko Tanaka was a professional wall-breaker.
The day after our second conversation, I foolishly believed things would calm down.
I assumed she had simply been bored that afternoon and decided to talk to me on a whim. Popular students often do that—treat quiet people like temporary entertainment.
I expected her to forget about me by the next day.
Once again, I was wrong.
Lunch break arrived.
I followed my usual path to Class 2-B, stepped inside, and headed toward Daichi's desk.
Before I could even sit—
"Haruto-kun!"
Her voice reached me like a homing missile.
Aiko was already waving enthusiastically.
"You came again!"
"…I come here every day."
"Exactly! That's why I waited."
I stopped mid-step.
Waited? For me?
The idea felt so strange that my brain rejected it immediately.
She walked over and, without hesitation, pulled a chair beside us.
"Let's eat together again!"
I looked at Daichi, silently asking for help.
He only shrugged, clearly enjoying the situation.
Traitor.
"So," she began while opening her lunchbox, "did anything interesting happen in your class today?"
"No."
"Nothing at all?"
"Nothing worth mentioning."
"That's impressive in a boring way."
"I take pride in that."
She laughed softly.
Every answer I gave was short and dull on purpose, yet she responded as if I were saying something fascinating.
I couldn't understand her at all.
Around us, the classroom buzzed as usual.
Some students were playing on their phones, others discussing upcoming tests.
Yet, strangely, it felt like a small invisible circle had formed around the three of us—Daichi, Aiko, and me.
A circle I never asked to be part of.
"Haruto-kun," she suddenly said, "do you walk home alone every day?"
"Yes."
"Isn't that lonely?"
"No."
"Not even a little?"
"No."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"I feel like you say 'no' to everything automatically."
"That's not true."
"See? You just did it again."
Daichi burst out laughing.
"Wow, she's got you figured out already."
"I don't appreciate that," I muttered.
Aiko leaned forward slightly.
"You know, talking to you is fun."
"That's probably because you do most of the talking."
"Exactly! You're a very good listener."
I had no idea whether that was a compliment or an insult.
The more she spoke, the more I realized something important.
Aiko Tanaka didn't have the usual social boundaries.
Most people sense when someone is uncomfortable and back off.
She didn't.
If she was curious about something, she asked.
If she wanted to talk, she talked.
If she decided to sit next to someone, she simply did it.
It was like she lived in a world where hesitation didn't exist.
At one point she asked,
"Haruto-kun, why do you always sit in the back row in your class?"
"It's quieter."
"But you have good eyesight, right?"
"Yes."
"Then why the glasses?"
"…Because I need them."
She studied my face carefully.
"You'd probably look better without them."
That sentence made me freeze.
"Please don't say unnecessary things," I replied quickly.
"I'm just being honest!"
"Well, don't."
She pouted playfully.
"You're surprisingly sensitive."
"I'm not."
"You definitely are."
I sighed internally.
Talking to her felt like trying to walk in a straight line during an earthquake.
Unpredictable and exhausting.
Still… it wasn't completely unpleasant.
That was the most confusing part.
When lunch break ended, she packed her things and stood up.
"Okay! See you tomorrow, Haruto-kun."
"You don't need to come every day," I said.
"Too late. I've already decided."
"You can't just decide things like that."
"I just did."
And with that, she walked away happily.
I stared at her back as she returned to her friends.
Daichi nudged me.
"You're in trouble."
"I'm not."
"You definitely are."
As I walked back to my own classroom, I replayed the conversation in my head.
It was only the third time we had spoken.
Yet somehow, she had already:
learned my name,
memorized my habits,
and inserted herself into my routine.
Like a bright, cheerful storm.
I adjusted my glasses and let out a quiet breath.
For years I had carefully kept my world small and predictable.
Now, without asking permission—
Aiko Tanaka was slowly expanding it.
At that time, I still believed I could keep everything under control.
That I could remain the same quiet, invisible boy.
I had no idea—
This was only the beginning.