Case Study

You opened the classroom door, breathing heavily and apologizing before your feet had even crossed the threshold. Dozens of heads turned in your direction, including the teacher's, whose annoyed gaze filtered through the reflection in his glasses.

Trying to catch your breath, you approached his desk and handed over the medical certificate, a simple check-up that unfortunately took longer than expected.

“You’re late,” the professor said sternly, examining the document exhaustively. “Take a seat, but don’t let this happen again.”

You nodded, feeling a bit more relieved, and walked towards your usual spot, moving down the central corridor under the curious gaze of your classmates.

When you finally sat down, Mina Myoui, the girl who sat right next to you in class, looked up from her immaculate notes and gave you a small, almost imperceptible, but comforting smile.

Mina was the kind of girl anyone would want next to them in class. Quiet, reserved, and absurdly intelligent. Even though your interactions were mostly limited to borrowing something the other needed or sharing the results of a previous assignment, you still got along well with her. She exuded a peacefulness that was always pleasant.

However, the peace lasted exactly three seconds. The professor banged on the table to get everyone's attention.

“Okay, as I just explained before this interruption, the next research project will be done in groups of four.” The professor looked directly at you. “You’ll have to join the only group of three left. The one with Misses Myoui, Hirai, and Minatozaki… Momo, are you eating in my class?”

Your brain froze for a moment. You slowly turned your head toward the back rows of the classroom.

There they were, sitting together, watching you with completely opposite reactions, the dynamic duo of faculty chaos: Momo Hirai and Sana Minatozaki. Along with Mina, they formed an inseparable trio of friends, but academically they were like fire and ice.

Sana waved at you energetically, flashing a bright smile, completely oblivious to the serious atmosphere of the classroom. Beside her, Momo tried to hide the remains of the potato chips she'd been eating in her backpack, a guilty smile playing on her lips. Her eyes found yours, and she gave you a thumbs-up, though you could swear she had no idea what the assignment was about.

Their reputation on campus was notorious. It wasn't that they were mean girls, it's just that they tended to live in their own universe, a parallel dimension where attention deficit was the norm and comical situations seemed to haunt them like a curse. They were fun, likable, and yes, highly attractive, but if you could have voluntarily chosen a group to stake 40% of your final grade on, they'd be at the bottom of the list.

Mina, beside you, let out a soft sigh of resignation and looked at you with a mixture of sympathy and apology in her eyes, as if to say: “Welcome to my life.”

You sighed heavily and slumped back in your chair, notebook still open, though you weren't paying attention to anything related to the class anymore. You were going to have to deal with this somehow, while your grade, your sanity, and your heart rate depended on Mina's infinite patience and your prayers to the gods.

Days later, you realized that no deity had answered your prayers.

The lab was completely empty except for the four of you. There was an extreme smell of chemicals and various disinfectants, but what hung most in the air was your growing sense of despair.

On the table, the sheet of paper with the project guidelines and instructions remained blank after more than two hours. You read the proposed topic one more time:

Research topic: “Analysis of the physical and psychological responses of humans to a pleasant, external physical stimulus.”

“Let me see if I understand…” Momo broke the silence. She was sitting across from you on a high stool, swinging her legs forward and holding a lab thermometer in one hand. “We need to find a volunteer, put them in a giant test tube, and see if they survive a massage?”

“No, Momo. We don’t all fit in test tubes,” Sana replied with complete seriousness, while trying to build a tower out of three beakers. “Besides, it says ‘pleasant physical stimulation.’ What if we tickle their feet? That’s physical stimulation. And some people like it. It makes me laugh. Laughter equals happiness, happiness equals pleasant. Science.”

You rubbed your temples hard, feeling the onset of a migraine that would last for weeks. You turned your head to the right, desperately searching for an anchor of sanity. Mina. She stood there, with a pen between her fingers and her eyes fixed on the sheet of paper, analyzing the proposal with a frown.

“Just ignore them,” Mina advised softly, leaning slightly toward you. “Based on the bibliography the professor recommended, the psychological approach is easier to measure if we isolate the stimulus. We could structure the theoretical framework by measuring heart rate, skin conductance, and immediate verbal response.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Bless Mina Myoui.

“What do you think?”

You nodded in agreement, bringing your notebook closer to hers to share your notes.

“It’s perfect. If we formulate a hypothesis based on the release of endorphins and dopamine, we would only have to design a simple experiment.”

She seemed to consider it for a second.

“The problem is the stimulus. It has to be something easy to replicate in a controlled environment, something harmless but that generates a clear and immediate response in the nervous system.”

You both stared at the paper, lost in thoughtful silence, trying to find a variable that fit.

“Ah, I’ve got it!” Sana’s voice cut through the air abruptly.

You looked up and saw her hand raised as if she were in the middle of a real class, her eyes shining with pure excitement at having had an idea.

“Come on, Sana, enlighten us.” You said, caught somewhere between curiosity and fear.

“What if the stimulus was a kiss?” she suggested, tilting her head with a radiant smile.

“A kiss?” You and Mina asked at the same time, quite confused.

“Yes. It’s something physical, it’s external, and it’s generally very pleasant. It meets all the project requirements.”

You thought about it for a moment, and surprisingly, it actually met all your expectations perfectly. Considering everything you could have hoped for, it wasn't a bad idea at all. Except for one small detail.

Momo, who was now playing with an eraser on her side of the table, stopped dead, her eyes widening as she processed the scant information she had received.

“But for the project we need real results, right? Field data. We should test it right now to see if it works.”

That was the only slight drawback you saw to the idea; it was as if Momo had read your mind. How were you going to test it?

Before anyone could argue or raise their voice in protest, Sana leaned over Momo, planting a loud kiss on one of her cheeks. Your eyes widened at this, and noticing how the laboratory had fallen completely silent.

Sana stepped back and looked at her friend with a tender smile on her lips.

“What did you feel?” she asked, like a scientist awaiting the results of her experiment. “Was there any stimulation?”

Momo blinked, completely expressionless, and shrugged.

“I’m so used to you kissing me all day long that this means nothing to me anymore. It’s pointless.”

Sana pouted, visibly disappointed.

“That’s sad… You’re right. The test subject can’t be immune to the stimulus.”

“The problem is that neither of you is a suitable subject for the experiment. You know each other too well.” Mina interjected, already blushing herself as she noticed the red creeping up your neck.

Sana paused for a moment, her gaze sweeping around the empty laboratory. Momo mirrored her gesture. And then, as if they had rehearsed it, they both fixed their eyes on a single object.

You.

Mina, noticing the path of their gazes, looked up from her notebook and looked at you too. In an instant, you found yourself under the scrutiny of three pairs of eyes.