Lunchboxes and the Peak of Social Energy Expenditure

A week had passed since the entrance ceremony.

Class D's classroom had formed a stable ecosystem. The three girls led by Karuizawa Kei occupied the front-center area, and breaks were always filled with conversations about cosmetics and gossip. Ike Kanji, Yamauchi Haruki, and Sudou Ken formed a noisy boys' alliance, discussing games, girls, and how to spend points every day. Hirata Yosuke and Kushida Kikyo, meanwhile, were like two magnets, naturally drawing in students who needed help, wanted to fit in, or simply did not want to be left alone.

Even Horikita Suzune and Ayanokoji Kiyotaka occasionally exchanged a few words now—though Ayanokoji usually just brought up some trivial topic and Suzune answered coldly with a word or two. A week ago, the two had been complete strangers.

Orikasa Yuu sat in the center of the last row. Horikita Suzune was to his left—she had just finished speaking with Ayanokoji and was looking down at a hardcover book. Sakura Airi was to his right, curled up in her seat as usual, a camera resting on her knees, as though the classroom's clamor were separated from her by a pane of transparent glass.

An Energy-Saving Ideology follower's daily routine: lower his presence and avoid participating in the energy exchanges of any clique.

"Hey, don't you think our class has a lot of weirdos?" Ike Kanji's voice came from the front row. He turned around and leaned against the back of his chair. "That Koenji spends all day looking in the mirror and admiring himself. He doesn't even talk like a normal person. And then there's Orikasa, who just sits there all day like some machine running in power-saving mode. He's too lazy to even load an expression."

"Stop it. That's kind of creepy," Yamauchi Haruki said, shrinking his neck.

"And Horikita's a freak too..." Ike Kanji's voice abruptly died when Suzune swept him with an icy glance. He chuckled awkwardly and turned back around.

Orikasa Yuu did not look up.

Weirdo. Not a bad label. It meant low attention and low social expectations. A perfect energy-saving environment.

The lunch bell rang.

The classroom atmosphere changed instantly. Some students headed for the cafeteria, some pulled out bread they had bought at the convenience store, and some arranged to visit the school shop. Sakura Airi, however, did not move. She remained in her seat, nervously twisting the hem of her clothes between her fingers, her gaze occasionally slipping toward Orikasa Yuu.

Orikasa Yuu noticed, but did not respond. The third rule of Energy-Saving Ideology: do not follow up, do not seek confirmation.

"Um..."

A voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz came from his right. Sakura Airi lowered her head and took a tightly wrapped lunchbox from her bag, holding it in both hands as though it were something fragile.

"Orikasa... this is for you."

Orikasa Yuu turned his head.

The lunchbox was pale pink, printed with a tiny rabbit design and tied with an exquisite ribbon around the edge. Judging by the packaging, its contents had clearly been carefully prepared.

"A thank-you gift." Sakura Airi's voice grew even quieter. "For... the camera on the bus. And the room key card. Thank you for telling me those things..."

Orikasa Yuu looked at the lunchbox and fell silent for a second.

Accepting it meant owing her a favor, possibly creating future emotional maintenance costs.

Refusing it meant she might feel awkward or disappointed, perhaps even attract the attention and questions of those around them—which would consume even more energy.

Of two evils, choose the lesser.

"Thank you." He reached out and accepted the lunchbox, his movements steady and his expression unchanged.

Sakura Airi's eyes widened slightly, then curved into the faintest smile. She quickly lowered her head, unconsciously winding a strand of hair around her finger. The tips of her ears had turned red enough to bleed.

"Y-you're welcome..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Airi!"

A loud voice cut in from nearby.

Hasebe Haruka—Sakura Airi's friend, a straightforward girl with long blue hair—had somehow appeared in the aisle. With both hands braced against Sakura's desk, her eyes darted between Orikasa Yuu and Sakura Airi, gleaming with gossip.

"You actually made a lunchbox for a boy? Is this really the Airi I know?" Hasebe smirked and deliberately raised her voice. "Could it be that you two... are dating?"

The words were like a stone thrown into a still lake.

The students at several nearby desks all turned to look. Ike Kanji's mouth fell open, Yamauchi Haruki stopped chewing, and Karuizawa Kei even turned around to inspect the three people in the last row from head to toe. Even Hirata Yosuke looked surprised.

Social energy expenditure: rapidly rising.

Orikasa Yuu expressionlessly opened the lunchbox. Inside were neatly arranged tamagoyaki, fried chicken, octopus sausages, and heart-shaped rice balls, brightly colored and fragrant. He picked up his chopsticks, grabbed a piece of tamagoyaki, and put it in his mouth.

"It's just a thank-you gift." After swallowing, he spoke as flatly as if commenting on the weather. "She owed me a favor. She paid it back, that's all."

"Ehh—just like that?" Hasebe was clearly dissatisfied with that answer and leaned closer. "Airi got up at five in the morning to make it, you know? Would a mere thank-you gift need that much care?"

Sakura Airi's face instantly turned bright red. "H-Haruka! Stop talking!"

Up at five in the morning. Orikasa Yuu silently filed away the information while calculating the energy expenditure of the current situation.

A denial that was too forceful would look suspicious; admitting it was even more impossible. The optimal strategy: end the topic quickly and physically remove himself.

He closed the lunchbox and stood up.

"I'm used to eating alone."

With that, he carried the lunchbox out of the classroom under everyone's watchful eyes. His steps were steady, and he did not look back.

Behind him came Hasebe Haruka's laughter. "Wow, how cold! Airi, your taste is really weird!"

Along with Sakura Airi's tearful protest: "I told you, it's not that kind of relationship!"

The hallway air was much fresher than the classroom's. Orikasa Yuu leaned against the railing by the window, opened the lunchbox, and continued eating.

The tamagoyaki tasted good. The sweetness was just right, and it had been cooked perfectly.

He watched the cherry blossoms drifting down outside the window and sighed inwardly.

Social energy expenditure: beyond expectations.

But the lunchbox really did taste good.