Kobayashi Aika Novels & Stories

“What will I do?” “I don’t know. What do you have in mind?” “Jerk! Go, buy me boba. I’ll crush your hero later.” Aiko started playing moba. She tuned up the volume to break the silence in the room. “Hmmm…Aiko, can you please get that shirt for me?” Aiko looked up at Kalli and scanned the room for the shirt he was referring to. “Oh, shit, my turret is under attack.” Aiko threw the shirt which landed on Kalli’s side.

*THIRD POV* "See if you don't want to talk to me it's okay it's just- I wanted to know and pull your name I will just leave sorry if I bothered you," Koishi said, getting up from his chair ready to walk away. "Watanabe Takeshi" making a smile appear over the face of Koishi turning around Koishi extended his hand towards him. Which only made Takeshi move back a little being taken back by the sudden then looking back at the face of Koishi.

“Overpriced, overdesigned… It’s bound to collapse under its own excess.” He flipped open his notebook and quickly drafted a Pencil Case Market Risk Assessment Chart: | **Evaluation Criteria** | **Kobayashi's Case** | **Ordinary Case** | |---------------------------------|---------------------------|----------------------------| | **Functionality** | ★★★★★（Overkill） | ★★★☆☆（Balanced） | | **Durability** | ★★☆☆☆（Fragile） | ★★★★☆（Reliable） |

I want to hear it more. “What’s your name, officer?” she cocked her head, shifting her hand in mine to properly hold it. “Konishi Hibiki. Does this mean I get to learn your name? Or do I get to continue just calling you the goddess?” I smiled. “Yoshida Akio.” she answered after a beat. “Akio.” I repeated her name. “It’s nice to meet you. And while I don’t want to assume, for all I know, one of those guys from your protest is your man, but are you free for lunch?” I asked, taking a chance.

Traditional wooden beams arched overhead, and low wooden tables with cushioned zabuton seats invited patrons to linger. Aiko Tanaka moved gracefully between the tables in her elegant uniform: a soft pink kimono-style blouse that hugged her petite frame, a crisp white apron tied neatly at her waist, and a pleated skirt that swayed just above her knees. At 24, she was the picture of demure Japanese beauty. Porcelain skin, long black hair pinned up with delicate kanzashi ornaments, and large, doe-like eyes that rarely met a customer’s gaze for long. Yet beneath that polished politeness burned something deeper.

“What’s its name?” “Aki,” I said. “He’s a Havanese. He found Toby first.” The woman got down to her knees and reached out to stroke Aki’s head. “Thank you for finding Toby.” Aki stuck out his tongue and wagged his tail. He looked damn pleased. When she stood again, she said, “I’m Sakura. What’s your name?” Sakura? As in the Japanese Sakura? As in cherry blossom Sakura? I must admit the name fit her perfectly.

Ayaka asked. “No one in particular. But I guess Ko is pretty cute though.” “Ko?” “Kogami.” “Kogami? As in Kogami Kobayashi, Vice President of the Student Council?” “Unless there's another Kogami Kobayashi I don't know about, then yes, that's the one.” “What, no way,” Atsumi said. “What's wrong with him?” “I can understand if you say Rengoku-san or Pres. Even Ichiya is acceptable, but Kobayashi-san? He's the most average of all average guys and a little on the scrawny side. You have a very weird taste in men.” Ayaka said.