Chapter 9: Are All Aliens Angels?
....
"Quiet. Lala-san, your seat is the empty one over there — please go sit down."
"Yes, teacher!"
The homeroom teacher pushed his sunglasses up his nose. The sweep of his gaze across the classroom — delivered from a face that suggested he had, at some point in his past, made decisions that required that kind of face — produced immediate silence. The image was complete: shaved head, built like someone who had opinions about posture, sunglasses indoors.
"There's nothing remarkable about an alien. We have youkai and witches at this school. Discussion ends here. Homeroom begins now."
Yanami Anna spent the homeroom period in a state of cognitive static so dense that she couldn't have told you when it ended. She surfaced to find several shadows arranged on her desk in a pattern that could only be described as deliberate encirclement.
She looked up.
Four or five girls she had never spoken to directly were standing around her with the grave expressions of people who had convened an emergency session. Their eyes moved periodically toward Lala, who was receiving an identical treatment from a different group across the room.
The one with braided pigtails and glasses leaned in and lowered her voice to a register appropriate for classified briefings.
"Yanami-san. Regarding the matter of Kihara-kun's fiancée — would you be willing to provide a full account to the Kihara Prince Support Association?"
Oh no. Yanami Anna recognized the situation she was in. The dedicated fan contingent. The kind of people who treated his schedule as public infrastructure.
She had exactly zero options for escape — they had positioned themselves with the thoroughness of people who had done this before. She was going to have to talk her way out of this very carefully.
Across the room, the situation around Lala had taken a different shape.
"Lala-san, can I touch your tail?"
"Sorry, only family can touch the tail~"
"Oh wow, that's such a great rule. Has Kihara-kun touched it yet?"
"Not yet — I only became his fiancée yesterday!"
Several girls registered this information simultaneously. The temperature in the surrounding area changed.
They're not that close yet. There's still time. While there's no ring there's hope.
Lala, for her part, found the girls of Class 1-B delightful. She made friends quickly and without complications, the way people did when they had no ulterior motive and genuinely found other people interesting.
The friendship accelerations reached a peak when, during a contact-exchange session, several girls caught a glimpse of Lala's phone wallpaper.
Kihara. Wearing an apron. Making breakfast. Morning light. Expression of someone who had not yet been informed the camera was out.
The physiological responses in the immediate vicinity were varied but consistent in direction. Handkerchiefs were produced.
"It's too much."
"He's too much."
"Could you send that to me?"
Lala sent it to everyone who asked.
Being Kihara's fiancée and actively distributing his photos to other girls — the goodwill this generated was, by any objective measure, extraordinary. Several girls experienced internal revisions of their entire threat-assessment model.
Lunch. The rooftop, ringed by its tall chain-link fence.
Three picnic mats, three bento boxes, afternoon sun making everything slightly more appealing than it probably was.
Lala finished her lunch with elegant efficiency, crossed her legs, and stretched — the full extension of someone working out the kinks of a morning sitting in a chair, curves doing what curves did when someone stretched.
Yanami Anna's chopsticks tightened.
"Earth food is delicious!"
"Lady Lala, I believe the superior quality is attributable to Kihara-sama's considerable culinary skill."
"Mm mm! Thank you, Kihara!"
"Glad you liked it. What do you want tomorrow?"
"Anything you make!"
Crack.
The chopsticks submitted to the force being applied to them and broke cleanly in the middle. The bamboo splintered at the break point and several fine slivers embedded themselves in Yanami Anna's fingertips.
"Anna — are you alright?"
Kihara had already taken the broken pieces from her hand. He brought her finger to his mouth without particular ceremony and held it there, applying the relevant treatment.
She immediately began pulling her hand back. "Don't — don't do that — my finger's dirty—"
"'S fine... almost done..."
Yanami Anna sat with the fact that thirty seconds ago she had been generating enough jealousy to fill a mid-sized lake, and was now sitting here being fed warmth through her fingertips like someone had dropped a piece of candy directly into her chest cavity.
This is embarrassing, she thought. I'm embarrassing.
She let her gaze slide sideways toward Lala with the unspoken challenge of someone who had just received evidence she wanted witnessed.
You're his fiancée and you still can't get this.
What she found instead of jealousy or calculation was: concern. The emerald eyes were watching her finger with genuine worry, no competitive subtext visible anywhere in them.
"That must have really hurt. Are you okay, Anzu?"
"Anzu?"
"Is something wrong with that?"
Yanami Anna wanted to say that they hadn't reached the nickname stage. She didn't, because doing so in front of Kihara would make her look petty. She let it stand.
Lala took out her phone, tapped something, and a bandage slid out of the screen.
"I have medical nano-bandages. Kihara, can you put this on her?"
"Mm, thanks."
"It's nothing. As long as it helps Anzu."
Yanami Anna looked at her.
She had been broadcasting I don't want you here in every available frequency since this morning. Lala had received all of it and sent back I hope you feel better.
Do all aliens actually have this kind of personality?
For a moment — just a moment — she thought she saw something behind Lala, a quality of light that wasn't quite natural, the way artists drew halos around figures they meant to be read as good.
She looked away quickly.
Kihara finished applying the bandage and picked up his own bento's spoon. He loaded it and held it out toward her mouth.
"Stop using chopsticks until that heals. Eat like this."
"...Huh?"
She looked at the spoon. She looked at him. The food smelled exactly the way she'd hoped it would when she'd made it at six this morning specifically for him.
"Don't just stare. Lunch ends soon. Open up. Ahhh."
"A... ahh~ nom nom."
Yanami Anna discovered something she had not known about her own cooking: it tasted considerably better when administered by someone else.
"Kihara-sa—"
"Shh, Peke. Not now."
"...Understood."
Lala watched Kihara feed Yanami Anna with the quiet smile of someone who had understood something. She had seen Peke start to point out that the nano-bandage would have healed a splinter injury in approximately fifteen seconds. She had chosen not to say this herself, and she had stopped Peke from saying it either.
Yanami Anna was happy.
When someone was happy, you didn't interrupt it.
I think this is what Risa and Kujo were talking about at break — "reading the room." I did that successfully!
Lala felt quietly proud of herself. The planet Earth was going to be manageable. She was already learning.
The bento boxes were empty. Three or four minutes left before the bell.
Kihara stood and moved toward the door.
Yanami Anna spoke up. "Can I have a moment alone with Lala?"
He looked between them. "No fighting."
"I would never."
"Alright. I'll be in the classroom."
The rooftop went quiet after the door closed.
Yanami Anna stood with her right hand behind her back, fingers twisted in the hem of her skirt. She took a breath and bowed — not a casual bow, a deliberate one.
"Lala-san. Thank you for the bandage." She straightened. "But — regarding you becoming Kihara-kun's fiancée. I still can't accept it."
Lala tilted her head, green eyes soft and curious.
"Anzu — do you like Kihara too?"
....
Thank you for reading.