Under One Roof: Riku's Romantic Ruckus

The storm that had been simmering all week finally erupted on Wednesday, crashing down with all the grace of a runaway train. Riku hadn't slept much, his mind stuck on Emi's coffee invitation and Aiko's frosty glares replaying like a broken record. By the time he slumped into school, he was a bundle of nerves, and spotting Emi by his locker didn't exactly calm him down.

"Morning, Riku!" she said brightly, though her eyes flickered with uncertainty. "So, about that coffee—did you think it over?"

Riku froze, trapped between courtesy and the looming threat of Aiko's wrath. And there she was—Aiko—leaning against the next locker, arms crossed, her face a perfect mix of disinterest and danger.

"Uh, hi, Emi," Riku mumbled, scratching his neck. "I, uh—"

"He's swamped," Aiko interjected, her tone velvet-smooth but edged like a knife. "Homework, projects, saving the universe—you get it."

Emi's smile wavered. "Oh. Maybe some other time, then?"

"Maybe," Riku blurted before he could stop himself. Aiko's eyes sharpened into daggers, and he cursed his own stupidity.

"Great!" Emi said, bouncing back. "I'll text you later." She skipped off, unaware of the arctic chill rolling off Aiko.

The moment Emi was gone, Aiko rounded on him. "*Maybe*?" she hissed, her voice a quiet storm. "What happened to 'no way'?"

"I panicked!" Riku whispered, glancing at the students milling around. "She's relentless, alright? I'll sort it out."

"You'd better," Aiko said, her smirk cold. "Or I'll handle it my way."

Riku gulped. Aiko's "way" usually meant trouble, and he wasn't sure he'd survive it.

---

Lunch was a battlefield waiting to ignite. The gang took their usual table, but the vibe was electric with tension. Haruka poked at her food, her usual sparkle dulled; Mika hid behind a book, her silence screaming; and Yuna, ever the troublemaker, grinned like she'd just lit a fuse.

"So," Yuna said, leaning in, "Emi's still circling. You gonna let her snag your guy, Aiko?"

Aiko's spoon froze midair, her smirk turning lethal. "She can try. Won't get far."

Riku squirmed, his lunch untouched. "It's not a thing. I said I'm busy."

"Busy," Yuna repeated, snickering. "That's your big move? No wonder she's texting."

Haruka frowned at Yuna. "Can we not? It's Riku's call."

"*Our* call," Aiko corrected, her eyes pinning Riku. "Right, knight?"

He met her gaze, throat tight. "Right," he said, firm despite the pit in his stomach. "I'll deal with it."

Mika peeked over her novel, voice calm but sure. "Be straight with her. She'll get it."

"Or not," Yuna chimed in, grinning. "Then it's popcorn time."

Aiko's spoon hit her bowl with a clink. "Popcorn for who?"

"Me, duh," Yuna said, winking. "I thrive on chaos."

Haruka tugged Yuna's sleeve. "Enough. Eat."

The table fell into a brittle quiet, the storm clouds still hovering.

---

After school, the tempest hit full force. Riku was shoving books into his bag when Emi popped up again, her smile tentative but hopeful. "Hey! I'm café-bound—wanna come? Just a quick stop?"

He opened his mouth to say no, but Aiko swooped in like a hawk, her arm sliding through his with territorial finesse. "Sorry, Emi," she said, voice syrupy but eyes glinting. "Riku's booked. With me."

Emi blinked, her smile faltering. "Oh. I didn't know—"

"Now you do," Aiko said, her smirk cutting. "Next time, check his schedule."

The hallway went dead quiet, students gawking at the showdown. Riku's face heated, torn between embarrassment and awe at Aiko's nerve. Emi's cheeks reddened, her eyes dropping.

"Right," she mumbled, backing off. "Sorry. See you later." She fled, shoulders slumped, as whispers rippled through the crowd.

Aiko let go of Riku, her smirk shifting to a scowl. "That's how you say no."

He glared, keeping his voice low. "You didn't need to crush her."

"She didn't need to keep pushing," Aiko shot back, arms folding. "Someone had to stop it."

"Not like that," he said, irritation rising. "Now she's upset, and the rumors are back."

"Let them gossip," she snapped, jaw tight. "I'm done being subtle."

He stared at her, the gap between them growing. "This isn't you, Aiko. You're not this harsh."

Her eyes flared, anger mixed with something raw—maybe guilt. "Maybe I am," she said, spinning away. "Figure it out, knight."

She stalked off, leaving him in the empty hall, her words ringing like thunder.

---

That night, home was a standoff. Aiko locked herself in her room, and Riku paced downstairs, his head a mess. His mom cast worried looks but said nothing, sensing the rift. Finally, he couldn't stand it—he climbed the stairs and knocked.

"Go away," Aiko grumbled through the door.

"No," he said, pushing it open. She was on her bed, clutching a pillow, eyes red but tearless. "We're talking."

"About what?" she muttered, avoiding his gaze. "Your sweet little Emi?"

"About us," he said, sitting beside her. "This jealousy—it's tearing us apart."

She sat up, glaring. "It's not jealousy. It's me fighting for you, and you're letting her in."

"I'm not," he said, voice rising. "I said no—twice! What else do you need?"

"Prove it!" she yelled, chucking the pillow at him. "Stop being everyone's hero and start being mine!"

He caught it, anger sparking. "I am yours! I'm here, arguing, aren't I?"

"Are you?" she snapped, voice breaking. "Or are you just scared to cut the others loose?"

That hit hard, and he winced. "I don't want to hurt them," he admitted, quieter. "But I don't want them like I want you."

Her breath caught, her glare softening. "Then prove it. Make me feel it."

He didn't hesitate—he pulled her into a tight hug, his face in her hair. "I'm yours," he whispered, raw and honest. "Only yours."

She gripped him hard, almost painfully, and for a second, the storm outside faded.

Then Yuna's voice pierced the moment. "Aww, adorable! Room for me?"

They jumped apart, Riku blushing as Aiko lobbed the pillow at the door. "Buzz off, senpai!" she shouted, but a laugh slipped out, shaky but real.

Yuna's laughter echoed down the hall, leaving them alone again. Aiko rested her head on Riku's shoulder, smirking. "We're a disaster, knight."

"Yeah," he said, kissing her hair. "But we're *our* disaster."

The thunder had struck, but they were still there—battered, but holding on.

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