Romantic killer

The hum of your console fills the room, warm and familiar. The soft blue glow paints your walls as your cat purrs contentedly beside you. Snacks, games, peace — life exactly how you like it. Until your TV bursts in a flash of pink light. A tiny, caped creature floats out of the static, grinning like it’s done this before. “Ta-da!” it announces. “I’m Rumi, wizard of love! And you, [User], are my next assignment!” You blink. “...My what?” “You live for games, chocolate, and that cat! But not a single romantic bone in your body!” “Thanks?” “From now on,” Rumi proclaims, “I’m stripping away your distractions until you find love!” You stare as your console, your chocolate, and — horrifyingly — your cat vanish in a blink. “PUT. HIM. BACK!” Rumi waves a tiny hand. “You’ll thank me later.” You won’t. The next morning, you’re half-asleep and furious when you crash into someone at the school gate. He catches you before you hit the ground — quiet, tall, steady hands. “Sorry,” he says softly. “Didn’t see you.” You glance up into calm brown eyes under dark hair. Something about him makes you pause. Rumi, hovering invisibly by your ear, hums. “He’s perfect — your first love interest.” You mutter, “You’re out of your mind.” The boy tilts his head. “...You okay?” You blink. “Nothing! Just—uh—talking to myself.” That’s Ren Ito — polite, distant, impossible to read. Rumi’s “plot” unfolds fast. Ren shows up in your class, then in the cafeteria, then at your train stop. Everywhere you turn — there he is. You start to wonder if fate’s got it out for you. Then, one rainy evening, there’s a knock at your door. Ren stands there, soaked, holding a duffel bag. “My place flooded. The school said I can stay here until repairs are done.” You freeze. “Here? With me?” Rumi’s invisible laughter fills the air. “Cohabitation route unlocked!” Ren frowns. “...Did you say something?” You force a smile. “Nope. Come in.” And just like that, your peaceful life disappears. Ren’s an aggravating mix of calm and competent — he cooks better than you, cleans without asking, and seems entirely unfazed by sharing a roof. You tell yourself you don’t care. You absolutely do. Rumi notices every stolen glance. “Aww, you like him.” You groan. “I like quiet.” But quiet doesn’t last. Because the next week, Rumi introduces “Route Two.” Kai Tendo — the loud, confident “childhood friend” who insists you grew up together. He transfers into your school, smiles like he owns the place, and starts showing up at your door “to hang out.” Ren tolerates him — barely. Kai teases Ren — constantly. And you? You try to survive as your apartment becomes the set of an unintentional love triangle. Rumi, still invisible to everyone but you, floats smugly above it all. “Drama level: optimal.” You sigh. “Can’t you just... not?” “Nope!” And then, one day, Rumi gains a human form. You nearly drop your drink when you open your door to find a tall, smirking stranger — same mischievous eyes, now paired with an actual face. “Surprise!” they say. “I figured I’d help in person.” Ren looks up from the kitchen. “Who’s that?” “Uh—relative,” you stammer. “From out of town.” Kai waves lazily from the couch. “Hey, relative.” Rumi grins. That night, Ren makes dinner — grilled salmon, rice, soup. The four of you sit around the table like a family that shouldn’t exist. Rumi cracks jokes, Kai compliments Ren’s cooking, and you just... watch. Ren smiles a little when Kai praises the food. Kai notices, pretends not to. When the meal ends, Rumi stretches. “We’re out of soda. [User], let’s go grab some.” You nod, happy to escape the tension. The evening air is cool as you walk with Rumi to the convenience store. Neon lights hum above you. Rumi glances sideways at you. “So,” they say casually. “Which one’s winning?” You roll your eyes. “No one’s winning.” “Funny,” they hum. “Your heart sounds like it’s keeping score.” You open your mouth to retort — but stop. Because somewhere deep down, you know they’re not entirely wrong. Back home, Ren and Kai clean the kitchen together. The quiet is heavy, thick with something unspoken. Kai dries the last plate, glancing over. “You really don’t mind? Living with her?” Ren’s voice is steady. “No. She’s easy to be around.” Kai nods slowly. “Still... I’d worry, if I were her. A guy under the same roof. People talk.” Ren pauses, the water still running over his hands. “I’m not into dating.” The words land hard. Kai’s fingers slip — the plate hits the counter with a sharp clatter. Ren turns his head slightly. “...You okay?” Kai laughs, too quickly. “Yeah. Just—slipped.” Outside, walking home beneath the streetlights, Rumi hums under their breath. “You feel that?” they whisper. “The tension building?” You shove your hands in your pockets. “I don’t feel anything.” But when you look up at your window — the faint light still glowing, two silhouettes moving inside — your chest feels tight. Maybe curiosity. Maybe something more. Rumi grins, eyes glinting in the dark. “Oh, you feel something.” You don’t answer. But your heart skips all the same.