Hitagi was not desperate.
She was… moderately motivated.
"I am not desperate," she muttered to her reflection while adjusting the ribbon on her uniform. "I am statistically delayed."
She narrowed her eyes at herself. Second-year high school student. Sixteen years old. Zero confessions. Zero dates. Zero "our fingers brushed and the universe exploded into cherry blossoms" moments.
So far, the universe had exploded into absolutely nothing.
She leaned closer to the mirror.
"Hitagi, you have good posture. That's worth something," she said in a thoughtful tone. "And your hair is acceptably shiny. You do not look like someone fundamentally incapable of inspiring romantic feelings."
Her cat stared at her from the bed with an expression that clearly translated to: *please leave me out of this.*
Hitagi sighed. She wasn't desperate. It just felt like everything lately was conspiring against her.
At the bakery line, the girl in front of her answered a call with, "Yes, love, I'm on my way."
On the train, two girls shared earphones and quietly laughed together.
In class, even Takemi—who had once confused "ecosystem" with "echo-system"—had a girlfriend.
Hitagi did not judge.
She simply observed.
And documented.
In the back of her notebook, between literature notes and a poorly solved equation, she had written:
**Project: Acquire a Girlfriend Before the End of Second Year**
Subtitle: *A Reasonable, Emotionally Stable, Minimally Humiliating Plan.*
Below it, three strategies:
1. Improve social skills.
2. Increase exposure to potential candidates.
3. Avoid looking like someone who wrote strategies to acquire a girlfriend.
Point three was essential.
On her walk to school, she reviewed the plan mentally. Today she would begin with Step One: improve social skills. This meant initiating a casual conversation without sounding like she was conducting a background check.
It didn't sound difficult.
Until she entered her classroom.
"Good morning, Hitagi," Mei called from her seat by the window.
Mei had been her friend since first year. Calm, soft-spoken, and always tilting her head slightly when listening, as if whatever you were saying genuinely mattered.
Hitagi paused.
No.
She would not consider Mei.
The childhood-friend-turned-true-love route was too predictable. Too structured. Too narratively convenient.
She had standards.
"Good morning," Hitagi replied smoothly. "The weather is… weather-appropriate."
Mei blinked.
"It usually is."
Hitagi nodded. Conversation initiated. No sweating. Acceptable delivery. Partial success.
She took her seat and mentally recorded: *Social interaction without collapse. 7/10.*
"You've been strange this week," Mei said, organizing her pencils. "More than usual."
"I'm optimizing my life."
"Does that include eating something other than coffee for breakfast?"
Hitagi remained silent.
"…No."
Mei smiled faintly.
"I thought so."
Class began, but Hitagi's mind kept drifting back to the Project.
The issue wasn't that she didn't like girls. She absolutely did. Perhaps too much. The issue was that none of them had triggered that clear, undeniable shift—when the heart stops functioning as an organ and starts behaving like fireworks.
She'd had suspicions before.
A literature club senpai with a deep voice.
A third-year girl who wore her uniform slightly wrong, like rules were optional.
But nothing definitive.
Nothing worth writing a mediocre 2 a.m. poem about.
When the break bell rang, Mei stood up.
"I'm going to the library. Want to come?"
The library. Quiet. Potentially interesting readers. Low chaos probability.
"Yes," Hitagi answered with controlled speed.
They walked down the hallway amid the hum of students. Hitagi conducted subtle evaluations.
Girl A: attractive, but constantly surrounded by people. Difficulty level: high.
Girl B: oversized headphones. Possibly intense personality. Risk: unknown.
Girl C: running with papers. Admirable energy, but might require physical stamina.
Mental notes. No spark.
The library greeted them with silence. Mei headed straight for historical novels. Hitagi wandered toward philosophy, because it made her look layered.
She pulled a random book and opened it.
She understood nothing.
She held it confidently anyway.
That's when she noticed someone sitting across from her.
A girl she didn't recognize. Dark hair tied loosely back, rectangular glasses, focused expression. A pen rested between her lips as she read.
Hitagi felt something.
Not fireworks.
More like realizing you left something on the stove.
A small internal alarm.
The girl looked up, likely sensing she was being observed.
Their eyes met.
Hitagi reacted with elegance.
She closed her book upside down.
The girl glanced at the cover, then at Hitagi, then back at the book.
"It's… upside down," she said softly.
"I know," Hitagi replied, slowly turning it around. "I'm testing whether the content changes depending on orientation."
A brief silence.
Then, unexpectedly, the girl smiled.
Not loudly.
Just a small curve at the edge of her lips.
"And?" she asked.
"Dramatically," Hitagi said with solemnity. "It makes much more sense now."
The girl nodded thoughtfully.
"That's a relief."
Hitagi felt her pulse tick upward by half a degree.
This was not in the plan.
"I haven't seen you before," she said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere close.
"I transferred this week," the girl replied. "Class B."
Ah.
New variable.
"I'm Hitagi," she said, closing the book properly this time. "Specialist in incorrect text orientation."
"Rin," the girl replied. "Specialist in detecting misaligned books."
They held eye contact for a moment.
No dramatic breeze.
No cinematic soundtrack.
Just quiet comfort.
Rin returned to reading. Hitagi attempted to do the same, though she found herself glancing up occasionally. Strategically.
Rin frowned slightly when concentrating. Tapped her pen in small rhythms. Her focus felt almost physical.
That mild internal fire returned.
Not butterflies.
More like sustained curiosity.
Mei came back carrying three books.
"I found the one you liked," she said, placing it in front of Hitagi.
Rin looked up at the new voice.
"Hi," Mei greeted warmly.
"Hi," Rin answered.
Hitagi noticed something small.
With her, Rin had smiled first.
With Mei, it was polite.
Probably meaningless.
"Rin just transferred," Hitagi said.
"Nice to meet you," Mei said. "If you need help navigating school stuff, feel free to ask."
Rin nodded.
"Thank you."
And then something subtle happened.
Rin looked at Hitagi.
Not long. Not intense.
Just one second longer than necessary.
The controlled internal fire flickered again.
When the bell rang, Rin closed her book.
"I have lab next," she said. "It was… interesting meeting you."
She looked at Hitagi when she said it.
"Likewise," Hitagi replied, hoping she sounded normal and not internally reorganizing her life.
Rin left.
Hitagi stayed seated.
"You're thinking very loudly," Mei commented.
"Is it obvious?"
"A little. You look like a human calculator."
Hitagi exhaled.
"Do you believe in fate?"
Mei blinked.
"Is this about the upside-down book?"
"Indirectly."
Mei studied her for a moment, then smiled gently.
"I think interesting people show up when you're not holding a checklist."
Hitagi felt a small, uncomfortable twinge.
"I don't have a checklist."
"Of course you don't."
They walked back to class.
That mild internal alarm hadn't disappeared.
Worse—
She wasn't sure whether the Project needed revision…
or whether she had just encountered a variable she didn't know how to classify.
She wasn't desperate.
But for the first time in a while, the universe didn't feel entirely indifferent.
And that was mildly inconvenient.
Because if Rin smiled at her like that again…
The Project might stop being an experiment.
And start becoming something dangerously real.
That afternoon, Hitagi opened her notebook and added a fourth line beneath the Project:
4. Research Rin in an ethical and absolutely non-creepy manner.
She stared at it.
Then added:
(Extremely non-creepy.)
She closed the notebook.
For the first time, statistics felt less important.
Maybe love wasn't an academic goal.
Maybe it was more like reading a book upside down.
It doesn't make sense—
Until you turn it at exactly the right moment.