Learning Curve (ch. 10) — Matsuyama Ryuji, Alice In Borderland
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 (you are here) | Chapter 11 (coming soon…)
A/N: hey y’all! I thought i’d cook up a longer one for you today, hope you enjoy :P
Ryuji gets to the seminar room twenty minutes early.
Not because he needs to. But because sitting in his office felt worse.
The air smells like old carpet and chalk. He wheels to the far end of the table, sets his laptop down, opens it. Closes it. Opens it again.
He sighs loudly, hoping it will be louder than his stupid heart.
Doesn’t matter. It’s at ninety percent. That’s enough. Surely.
He pulls out his notebook instead—the one with the agenda he wrote last night, then rewrote this morning. He glances at the door, just to make sure it’s shut.
He smooths the page flat even though there’s no crease.
The door is still shut. Outside it’s busy—of course it is. It’s midday at a university. If he stayed still, he could probably hear little snippets of conversations from the hallway.
But he doesn’t stay still.
His hand moves to the brake on his chair. Clicks it. Unclicks it. Clicks it again.
He exhales through his nose.
Except he hasn’t. Not like this.
Not with someone who wrote his name in her pink little notebook like that. Drew him over and over and over again. Not with someone like you.
But the thought’s already there.
Your handwriting. The little heart next to your name. The way you underlined “I did it” three times, and how he still doesn’t know what it was—except he does, he’s pretty sure he does, and that’s the problem.
And if it’s what he thinks it is, he did it too.
He opens his eyes and stares at the door again.
Professional. That’s all this is.
He reaches for his water bottle. It’s almost empty.
He drinks the last bit and reaches to put the bottle into his bag.
His hand freezes halfway to his bag, and his eyes flick to the door. “Yes?”
The handle moves down and—
“Hello, Takao.” He sounds almost disappointed.
He watches as the young student bows and pulls back the chair next to him. “Thank you so much for this opportunity again,” Takao says, bowing again, then sitting down.
“Of course. You’re qualified, so you don’t have to thank me.” Ryuji manages a small smile.
Another knock on the door. “Yes?” he chokes out, and the door opens.
Another student enters the room and bows quickly, then straightens and fixes his glasses. “Hello, Mr. Matsuyama and—” he nods to Takao with a smile.
“Takao. Hello to you too…” Takao bows slightly in his seat, returning the smile as he tilts his head out of curiosity.
“Koji.” The student moves to sit down next to Takao, then does the same as him: thanks Ryuji. Ryuji repeats the same answer.
Then he looks at his wrist, but his watch isn’t there. God, what is up with him? He never forgets his watch.
He pulls out his phone. 13:57.
He reaches for his water bottle again. Shit—right.
He looks at his wrist again. Oh my god.
What is he even doing right now?
He opens his notebook again and reads over the agenda. The words blur together.
Another knock. He flinches slightly, straightens. “Yeah?”
The door opens and Mina enters—and behind her, you.
Ryuji stiffens immediately.
“Hello…” Mina starts, but Ryuji barely hears her.
Because you’re standing there in the doorway, and the entire room feels smaller.
You’re holding your bag in front of you with both hands, fingers tight on the strap. Your eyes meet his for half a second, then dart away—toward the table, the chairs, anywhere but him.
“Hi,” you say, and your voice does something to his chest he doesn’t have a name for.
“Hello,” he says back, and it comes out steadier than he expected.
Mina moves into the room first, pulling out the chair across from Takao. You follow, slower, like you’re not sure where to sit.
Ryuji’s eyes track you without meaning to.
You choose the seat at the far end—farthest from him.
He clears his throat and folds his hands on the table. “Thank you all for coming,” he says, and his voice sounds almost normal. Professional. Like he practiced.
Takao and Koji nod. Mina and you smile.
Ryuji opens his notebook, flips to the agenda, and tries to pretend his pulse isn’t hammering in his ears.
“So,” he begins, “let’s start with introductions. I know some of you already, but for the sake of the group—”
He gestures to Takao, who introduces himself confidently.
Then Koji. Polite, articulate, maybe a little nervous.
Ryuji’s eyes move to you.
You glance up, finally, and the air between you feels like static.
“Um,” you start, and your voice is quieter than the others. “I’m—” You say your name. “I’m a third-year psychology student. I’m… really interested in behavioral analysis and, um… yeah.”
You trail off, fingers twisting the strap of your bag again.
“Thank you,” Ryuji says, and his voice comes out softer than he meant it to.
Your eyes flick to his again—just for a second—and then away.
Mina leans forward slightly when Takao finishes talking, chin resting on her hand. “So you’re working on cognitive dissonance models?” she asks, eyes bright. “That’s really cool.”
Takao grins. “Thanks. It’s been interesting so far.”
Ryuji notices the way Mina’s smile widens. The way she tilts her head just a little.
He glances at you. You’re watching them too, but there’s something almost amused in your expression—like you’ve already clocked it.
Koji adjusts his glasses and flips open his own notebook. “I’d actually love to hear more about that later,” he says to Takao. “I’m working on something adjacent—decision-making under social pressure.”
“Oh, for sure,” Takao says, and when their eyes meet, something shifts. Just barely. A beat too long.
Your lips twitch, like you’re holding back a smile.
Ryuji looks back down at his agenda and tries not to think about why he noticed Koji sitting close to you in the first place.
“Right,” Ryuji says, clearing his throat. “So let’s talk about the project structure.”
He goes through the agenda point by point—research goals, timeline, division of tasks. His voice stays even, controlled. Professional.
“Most of the work will be transcription and analysis,” he explains. “I’ll be conducting interviews over the next few weeks, and I’ll need help organizing the data. Some of you will transcribe audio files, others will help code responses and identify patterns.”
Takao nods. “Sounds straightforward.”
“It is,” Ryuji says. “But it’s detail-oriented. Accuracy matters.”
He glances around the table. “I’ll also need help with visual summaries—charts, diagrams, anything that makes the findings easier to present.”
Your pen pauses on the page.
“Takao,” Ryuji continues, “you’ll handle the bulk of the transcription. You’re quick and thorough—I’ve seen your work before.”
“Koji, you’ll help with coding the interview responses. I’ll give you the framework, but I’ll need you to flag any recurring themes.”
Koji adjusts his glasses. “No problem.”
Mina leans forward. “What about me?”
“You and—” He hesitates again, eyes flicking to you. “—you’ll both work on organizing the data and creating visual summaries. Graphs, comparison charts, anything that makes the report clearer.”
Mina is still watching Takao, who’s nodding along to something Koji just said.
He clears his throat. “We’ll meet weekly to check progress. I’ll send out a shared folder with the initial materials tonight. And I’ll also organize a room where you can work on this project in peace.”
“Sounds good,” Takao says.
Koji stretches slightly. “This is gonna be interesting.” When he glances at Takao, a smile is on his face.
Ryuji looks at you again but you’re already looking at him.
He looks down at his notebook.
Professional, he reminds himself.
But when he glances up again, you’re biting your lip, staring at the table like it might swallow you whole.
Ryuji closes his notebook with a soft snap. “That’s everything for today.”
He gathers his papers, stacking them with the same careful precision he always uses. “If you have questions, you can come to my office. As I said, I’ll send the shared folder later tonight.”
He wheels toward the door, then pauses, turning back.
His eyes sweep over the four of you—but they catch on you.
You all bow slightly. He returns it, then leaves.
The door clicks shut behind him.
For a moment, no one speaks.
Then Takao leans back in his chair. “So—do we wanna exchange numbers?”
“Sure,” Koji says, already pulling out his phone.
Mina does the same. You follow, fingers moving on autopilot.
A moment later, your phone buzzes. You’re in a group chat now: Mina, ‘Takao :)’, and ‘Kojii :P’.
“Cool.” Takao glances at Koji, then at you and Mina. He pushes his chair back. “Wanna grab something to eat?”
“Sure,” Koji answers immediately.
You and Mina exchange a look.
She shrugs. You shrug back.
Takao grins. “Great. There’s a ramen place like two blocks from here.”
The four of you gather your things and head out into the hallway. It’s quieter now—most classes are done for the day. The light from the windows is softer, almost golden.
Mina falls into step beside you as Takao and Koji walk ahead, already deep in conversation about something you can’t quite hear.
“They’re cute,” Mina whispers, nodding toward them.
You glance up. Takao’s gesturing with his hands, animated. Koji’s smiling, head tilted slightly as he listens.
“I think Takao’s really smart,” Mina adds, a little too casually.
You bite back a smile. “Uh-huh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” You grin. “Just—uh-huh.”
She elbows you lightly. “Shut up.”
You laugh, and for a moment, the tension from earlier loosens. Just a little.
Outside, the pavement glistens under the streetlights, and the sky is that strange in-between color—not quite day, not quite night.
Takao leads the way, Koji beside him. Mina trails just behind them, stealing glances.
You’re at the back, phone in hand, staring at the group chat notification.
‘Project Team’ is what Takao named it.
You scroll up. There’s already a message from him:
Takao :): excited to work with u guys! this is gonna be fun
Everyone glances at him and laughs.
Kojii :P: same! lmk if anyone needs help with anything
You start typing, then delete it. Start again. Delete again.
You slip your phone into your pocket and glance up—just in time to see Takao holding the door open for all of you at the ramen shop.
“After you,” he says with a grin.
Mina smiles. Koji thanks him quietly.
The warmth hits you immediately—steam rising from bowls, the low murmur of conversation, the smell of broth and garlic and something savory you can’t name.
It’s crowded, but not uncomfortably so. You find a booth near the back, and the four of you slide in—Takao and Koji on one side, you and Mina on the other.
Menus are passed around. You pretend to read yours, but the words blur together.
Your mind is still in that seminar room.
The way Mr. Matsuyama’s voice softened when he said your name.
The way his eyes lingered just a second too long before he left.
You blink. Mina’s looking at you, eyebrows raised.
“Oh—uh…” You glance down at the menu. “Probably just the miso ramen.”
“It’s classic,” you defend.
Takao laughs. “I’m getting the spicy tonkotsu.”
Mina hums. “I’ll do the shoyu.”
The waiter comes by, and you all order. Takao orders an extra side of gyoza “for the table,” which makes Koji smile.
When the waiter leaves, conversation picks up again—easier now, more relaxed.
Takao asks Koji about his previous research. Koji asks Mina and you about your classes.
Subject: Project Materials
You unlock your phone, hands suddenly unsteady.
Hi everyone, Attached is the shared folder with the initial interview transcripts and coding framework. Please review them before our next meeting. Let me know if you have any questions. R. Matsuyama
It’s professional. Polite. Completely normal.
But your eyes catch on the sign-off.
You stare at it longer than you should.
You look up. Mina’s watching you, concerned.
“Yeah,” you say quickly, locking your phone. “Just an email from Mr. Matsuyama. He sent the folder.”
“Oh, already?” Takao leans forward. “Damn, he’s efficient.”
Koji checks his phone. “Got it too. I’ll look at it later.”
The food arrives, steaming and perfect. Everyone digs in, and the conversation shifts.
“So what was your worst dating experience?” Mina asks Takao.
He looks surprised. “My worst dating experience? Woah, let me think…” His eyes trail off, then light up after a bit. “One time I was drinking with a girl, must’ve been our 3rd date or something.”
Your eyes catch Koji’s expression. He looked interested just a second ago, but now he’s staring into his bowl, not even really listening.
“Anyway we kissed and yeah then she threw up.” Takao continues.
Mina can’t help but laugh. “What?”
“Right in my mouth,” Takao adds, grimacing. “It was—god, it was so bad.”
Mina covers her mouth, half-horrified, half-laughing. “Oh my god, no.”
“Yeah. Never saw her again after that.” He shrugs. “Can’t really blame her.”
You snort, trying not to laugh too loudly. But when you glance at Koji again, he’s still just… staring. Jaw tight. Chopsticks frozen halfway to his mouth.
Mina’s oblivious. “That’s awful. Poor girl, though.”
“Poor me,” Takao laughs. “I had to brush my teeth like four times.”
“What about you, Koji?” Mina asks, turning to him with a grin. “Worst date?”
Koji blinks, like he’s only just tuned back in. “Oh—uh…” He adjusts his glasses, clearly scrambling. “I don’t really… date much.”
“Come on,” Mina presses. “Not even one bad experience?”
He hesitates. “I guess… I went to a movie once with someone. And they talked through the whole thing.”
Takao groans. “That’s the worst.”
“Yeah,” Koji says quietly. He still won’t look at Takao.
You take a sip of water, watching the two of them.
Mina turns to you, already grinning. “Your turn.”
You give her a look. “I literally have nothing.”
“Bullshit.” She kicks you lightly under the table. “What about that guy from last year?”
“We went on like one date and he spent the whole time talking about his ex.”
“See!” Mina points at you triumphantly. “That counts.”
Takao winces. “Ooh. Yeah, that’s bad.”
“Right?” You shake your head. “I left halfway through.”
Mina’s still looking at you.
“What?” you ask, already defensive.
“Nothing.” She grins. “You just keep checking your phone constantly. Are you going somewhere later?”
“You literally just did it like two minutes ago.”
You kick her under the table. “Shut up.”
She grins wider. “Is it a guy?”
“It is.” Her eyes light up. “Oh my god, who?”
“What was your worst dating experience, Mina?” you ask loudly, desperate to change the subject.
She thinks for a second. “Oh! One time a guy picked me up in his car to go get dinner, but on the way there he…” She covers her face with her hand. “He farted and—well, it sounded like more than that too…”
“Oh my God, ew.” Takao grimaces while Koji just stares at her, disgusted.
“Ew, why would you pick that story, Mina? We’re eating!” You feel the need to cover your nose.
“Well, it is my worst dating experience!” Mina protests.
“You could’ve picked the one where that guy’s credit card declined.”
You roll your eyes while biting back a laugh. “Or the time someone left you standing on the date because his ex showed up and he wanted her back.”
“Yeah, that one was pretty bad, you’re right. But fart guy was still worse for me.”
You just shake your head.
“Wait, did you still get dinner with the… fart guy?” Koji asks, genuinely curious now.
“Yeah, I wanna know too,” Takao agrees.
“No, I didn’t. The food was tempting, but my appetite was ruined after that.” She glances down at her ramen, then back up.
“Yeah, mine is now too.” You whine.
“And I also think he didn’t necessarily want to get out of the car,” she adds, ignoring you completely.
Takao bursts out laughing. “Oh no.”
“That’s so bad,” Koji says, half-laughing, half-horrified.
You’re trying not to laugh, but your shoulders are shaking. “Mina, I can’t believe you just told that story.”
“What? You asked!” She grins, unbothered. “Besides, it’s a good story.”
“It’s a traumatizing story,” you correct.
Takao’s still laughing, wiping his eyes. “That’s definitely worse than vomit girl.”
“Right?” Mina gestures at him. “Thank you.”
Koji shakes his head, smiling now. “I don’t know. Vomit in your mouth is pretty hard to beat.”
“Okay, can we please stop talking about bodily fluids while we eat?” you beg.
“Agreed,” Takao says, still grinning.
Mina just shrugs, taking another bite of her ramen like she didn’t just ruin everyone’s appetite.
The conversation shifts after that—thankfully to safer topics. Takao asks about weekend plans. Koji mentions a movie he wants to see. Mina suggests they all go together.
Back at home you phone buzzes again. The group chat.
Takao :): this was fun! we should do this again sometime
Taglist:@alliemaxie @rqchelszeglers @chxshiyax @kormoslena218 @sylviiana @azarashicutie @forgottensniper
bro i love y’all so much, i literally do this just for you (kidding i do it for me as well)
