April 22 (Sat), 11:58 AM
If the aquarium's first floor was a marine wonderland, the second was a tribute to river and stream life. Beavers, crayfish, frogs, and salamanders filled the tanks—fewer species than downstairs but still a lively bunch.
"So cute!" Karen gushed, starry-eyed at a beaver building its dam.
Ryuji, hands in pockets, watched with a relaxed grin, clearly enjoying himself.
"Ryu-chan! Look at this frog! Isn't it wild?" Rika squealed, distracted by a speckled amphibian, forgetting our spy mission.
"Yeah, cool," I humored her, scanning the area. Unlike the dim first floor, the second was brighter, mimicking riverbank habitats with artificial grass and shrubs. Getting too close to Karen and Ryuji risked exposure, so we hung back, observing from a distance.
About 15 minutes into their second-floor tour, they seemed to have seen it all and headed down the spiral staircase to the first floor. They'd spent roughly 40 minutes in the aquarium—perfect timing for lunch.
"Let's go, Rika," I said.
"Wait, just one more—" she protested, glued to a feeding beaver.
"No time." I tugged her arm.
"Noooo!" she wailed, reaching for the beaver as I dragged her out.
April 22 (Sat), 12:20 PM
Karen and Ryuji left the aquarium and strolled 10 minutes to Minami Ikebukuro Park. "Wow, tons of picnic folks," Karen remarked.
"No kidding," Ryuji agreed.
The park buzzed like Central Park or Seoul's Han River—families and couples sprawled on blankets, laughing over lunch. In Korea, we'd order delivery, but Japan's all about homemade bentos. I pulled a glossy black three-tier lunchbox from my bag, and Rika's eyes sparkled.
"You packed a bento?!" she gasped.
"Gotta fuel up for a stakeout," I said, opening the first tier.
"Gimbap and inari sushi!" Rika clapped.
"Went all out today." The gimbap wasn't standard—stuffed with katsu and tuna—while the inari sushi had furikake and beef. I packed extra, figuring leftovers would be my dinner.
Next, the second tier. "Tempura! Tamagoyaki! Nikujaga!" Rika listed off.
"Picnic classics," I said. This tier was Japan-inspired: karaage, shrimp tempura, tamagoyaki, nikujaga, and tsukemono for balance. Protein, carbs, vitamins, fiber—perfectly rounded.
I didn't need to open the third tier yet, but Rika's eager stare guilted me into it. "Amazing! Even dessert?!" she cheered. Cherry tomatoes, oranges, melon, and watermelon filled the box—convenience store cups repacked for variety and value.
We settled on a park bench, no blanket needed, and dug into the bento while watching Karen and Ryuji's date unfold.
Karen Tojo was a nervous wreck, her heart pounding harder than ever. This was her first time cooking for someone—her crush, no less. After three sleepless nights practicing my recipes, she'd crafted her ultimate bento, now destined for Ryuji's mouth.
"Did you make all this, Tojo?" Ryuji asked, eyeing the spread. "Thanks, I'll dig in."
Karen nodded, voice steady. "Eat as much as you want. I made plenty."
"Alright, onigiri first." Ryuji grabbed a triangular rice ball, stuffed with umeboshi, pickled salmon, or mentaiko mayo—not my recipes but tips from her mansion's chef. Smart move; plain rice would've been dull.
"Wow, this is good!" Ryuji said, chomping happily.
Karen's confidence surged. "Try this next," she said, offering a golden karaage, her masterpiece after dozens of tries.
Ryuji hesitated at the sudden chopstick-feeding but caved under her fierce gaze, accepting the bite. Munch munch. "Tasty," he said.
"Right? Now the tamagoyaki and Vienna sausages."
From there, it was smooth sailing. Karen fed him like a doting girlfriend, piling on sides. Ryuji, initially flustered, gave in, accepting each bite like a tamed puppy. Halfway through the bento, he paused. "Hey, don't just feed me. You eat too, Tojo."
Karen blinked, chopsticks frozen. "I'm full just watching you, so I'm good."
"Nah, it's weird for me. Here!" He held out an onigiri.
She stared, then nodded, taking a big bite. That broke the dam—she devoured it with both hands, manners out the window. Ryuji, amused, poured oolong tea from a thermos and handed it to her. Choking slightly, she gulped it down. "Pwah!"
Her unfiltered gusto made Ryuji grin. "Better eating together, huh?"
Karen, realizing her tomboy slip, blushed tomato-red but nodded. "Yeah."
Their lunch passed in a warm, cozy glow, pure rom-com magic.
After lunch, Karen and Ryuji strolled along the park's tree-lined path, sipping vending machine green tea. I watched from afar, nursing my own tea, when Rika mumbled, "I wanna go on a date like that someday…"
I raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you call yourself a love doctor?"
Rika froze, slapping a hand over her mouth, then laughed nervously. "Okay, fine. I've never dated. I learned it all from manga."
"…" So her "expertise" was just comic book trivia?
"But I've totally counseled friends! For real!" she insisted.
I had a lot to say but let it slide. More pressing was Karen—she and Ryuji had chemistry. Wasn't it time for her confession?
Then, out of nowhere, trouble struck. "Yo, nice view, huh?" a sleazy voice called.
"Took us forever to find you, pretty boy."
"You snatched a girl we were hitting on last time, and now you're with a new one?"
"What a player!"
In a blink, a gang of manga-stereotypical punks surrounded Karen and Ryuji. Where'd they come from?
"Should we call the cops?" Rika whispered, panicked.
"Hold off. They'd take too long to show. If it gets bad, I'll step in," I said, watching closely. If this was a Scramble Love event, interfering might mess up the plot.
Ryuji stepped forward, recognizing the punks. "What's your deal, showing up like this?"
"Aw, scary! Gonna beat us again? This time we'll be in the hospital for a month," one sneered, clutching his casted arm and neck dramatically.
"Dirty cowards," Ryuji growled.
The exchange clicked for me. These were the kendo club freshmen Ryuji thrashed—the ones Karen confronted him about, sparking her crush. They'd been kicked out of the club after lying about the fight.
"We got canned from kendo 'cause our lie got busted!" one spat.
"We can't ogle Fuma-senpai's epic rack anymore, and it's your fault!" another whined.
Then, Karen snapped. "You idiots!" she roared, stepping up. "You still don't get why you were kicked out, do you? It's your pathetic attitude!"
This park picnic just turned into a showdown. Karen's bento game was A+, and her chemistry with Ryuji screamed endgame, but these punks were straight out of a shonen arc. Her dad's yakuza goons are probably nearby, ready to flip tables. Rika's manga-fueled "love doctor" confession threw me, but she's still ride-or-die.
I gripped my tea, ready to jump in if fists flew. Karen's about to unleash her kendo fury, and Ryuji's no slouch either. But with Naoto's mob and maybe cops lurking, this date's one spark from a rom-com disaster. I'm just an extra—why's my Saturday a gang brawl waiting to happen?