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Saiki curses under his breath, a rare use of his vocal chords, but the situation truly calls for it. Nendou is just around the corner, blocking his path out of the school building. He’s hovering, like an NPC in a video game, just in front of the door. Saiki is certain that he’s waiting for him, and if Saiki crosses his path, just like in a video game, he’ll trigger a cutscene and be forced out to ramen with the guys.
Normally, Saiki can tolerate this, but not today. Today, he has a television program he wants to watch. It’s a special feature from famous chefs all over Japan, each well traveled and highly sophisticated, sharing the restaurants wherein they ate their most favorite dessert. Saiki likes sweets of all kinds, but to get recommendations from Japan’s most skilled foodies would be particularly inspiring. He has to know where the best tiramisu in the world is. Then he can teleport there and try it. He’ll save his allowance for the next four months if he has to. But in order to do any of that, he has to get home and watch that program!
“Yo, what the hell are you doin’?” a chirpy voice asks from over his shoulder. It’s Aiura, a fellow psychic.
“I’m trying to get out of here,” Saiki says, his irritation mounting. “I have a show to go home and watch, but Nendou’s in the way.”
“I’ll go, like, distract him so you can get outta here,” Aiura says, sagely understanding the importance of TV scheduling. She walks in Nendou’s direction, twirling her neon hair around her finger.
Saiki watches with bated breath, waiting for his opportunity to rush to his shoe locker and out the door without being noticed.
But even as Nendou speaks to Aiura, his beady and stupid-looking eyes never meet hers. He is still scanning the area, hoping to catch Saiki walking by.
“Good grief! Try something else!” Saiki requests, communicating privately via direct telepathy.
Geez, fine, Aiura says, reaching under her bust and adjusting the underwire of her bra. Through this subtle manipulation, she manages to lift her cleavage even more from the neckline of her sloppily worn school uniform. She folds her arms in front of herself, pressing her breasts together in a rather lazy attempt at seduction.
For a second, it seems to work. Nendou’s eyes catch on the edge of her cleavage, lingering for a moment past polite.
“I just remembered that the ramen shop has started sellin' pork buns,” he says, still looking at her breasts.
Aiura nearly groans. Great. My tits look like pork buns.
And with that comment, Nendou is refocused on inviting Saiki out to the restaurant.
Aiura gives up and trudges back to Saiki, pulling him around the corner. “When’s your show supposed to start?”
Saiki checks the clock on the wall. “Twenty minutes.”
“Let’s just go up to the empty classroom on the third floor. We can watch in my crystal ball until the big guy finally gives up and leaves, kay?”
Saiki nods and follows along, not feeling particularly optimistic. His walk home is long enough that even if leaves in the next five minutes, he won’t make it in time without jogging. And jogging always looks weird and attracts attention. He also knows that Nendou doesn’t give up easily. He could always teleport home, but then what if someone notices that he never left the school? Plus, he wouldn’t have his street shoes.
When they reach the classroom, Aiura pulls two tables together and extracts her crystal ball from her bag. She watches in the little window she left between rhinestones as Nendou continues to circle the small area in front of the door. “Damn, there’s, like, no way to dodge the guy!”
“He’s devoted,” Saiki deadpans, leaning his cheek onto his fist as he slumps at the desk.
Minutes pass with little development. Aiura’s frown sags lower. “I don’t know if we can get you outta here in time.”
I should have figured, Saiki thinks to himself. If he’s ever looking forward to something, he should just assume it won’t work out.
“Well, I have something I can try. What show are you trying to watch?” Aiura asks, turning off the Nendou vision in her crystal ball.
“The dessert feature on the documentary channel seven,” he answers.
“LOL, I shoulda figured,” Aiura says. “I think I saw a commercial for that show flipping channels the other day. Like, seems kinda boring, but I like sweets, so whatevs. It’ll probs just make me hungry.” She starts blinking her eyes rapidly toward her crystal ball until the image of a person filters in. It’s Yumehara, who had been at home sick that day. But she’s in bed, asleep. “Guess she wasn’t fakin’ it,” Aiura remarked.
Then, she blinks again and it’s a vision of Saiki’s grandma, working in her garden. Saiki’s mom, putting away groceries. Someone Saiki doesn’t recognize, playing tennis. Saiki realizes she is flipping through people she knows, trying to find someone, anyone, who is watching the same show that he wants to see. She continues flicking through visions of people until she lands on a winner: Mera. Of course, she’d be interested in a show about food. Sadly, she’d never be able to afford any of the sweets mentioned on the program, but she can dream.
“It’s not, like, the best picture quality,” Aiura says, and it’s true. Mera is watching on a twelve inch TV in her family’s living room. “But we’re lucky that Mera’s at home today and not at work!”
“We’re lucky that her family was able to pay the cable bill,” Saiki adds.
“Sad, but true.” Aiura settles back in her seat and crosses her hands behind her head.
It’s not great, but it’s better than nothing, Saiki thinks. “Can you hear it?” he asks.
“Oh, yah,” she says. “I can actually hear it.”
If Saiki crossed his eyes and used clairvoyance to spy on Mera, he’d be able to hear the program too, but then he’d have to sit with his eyes crossed for the duration of the hour-long broadcast. So instead, he reaches over to touch Aiura’s arm. With psychometry, he can experience what she experiences, including sound.
“If you wanna cuddle, just say so, Kusuo,” Aiura teases, scooting her chair closer to him as they huddle together in front of the little makeshift screen.
Saiki chooses not to complain and tries to enjoy this little three-person viewing party. Tomorrow he’ll have to bring a treat for Mera for being their unwitting host. But for now, he’ll accept the company of Aiura, grateful that she would give up her afternoon to watch a show that she’s not that interested in. Her thoughts give playful commentary on each dessert. While it should be annoying, it isn’t, and by the end of the hour long broadcast, the two are exchanging opinions and agreeing that they absolutely must try the cannoli first.
Meanwhile, Nendou is still waiting. Oh well, at least Saiki got to watch his program first.