As a hopeless siscon, Kawasaki Saki's obsession with her little sister was clearly on another level—something Nishimiya Shouko could never possibly compete with.
If there was anyone who could stand toe-to-toe with her in this field, it would probably have to be someone extreme, like Yukinoshita Haruno.
After her excitement finally settled down, Kawasaki remembered why they were even talking in the first place.
The eager shine in her eyes dimmed.
"So… Nishimiya-san, you really know I've been using underwear as a hair tie, don't you?" she asked quietly.
"Y-Yes, sorry. I just happened to notice it by accident," Shouko replied carefully.
"That's not something you'd notice 'by accident.' I've worn this hair tie on my wrist every single day, and no one else has figured it out—only you…"
"But if you don't want people to know, why keep wearing it on your wrist?" Shouko tilted her head in confusion. "Doesn't that make it more likely someone will find out? Unless… it's some kind of special hobby?"
"…"
Kawasaki turned her head to the side as she slipped her phone back into her pocket, trying to keep her expression unreadable.
"You must be curious about why I use underwear as a hair tie, right?" she muttered, her voice heavy, as if she'd already resolved to confess everything.
"Eh? Not really. I wasn't curious about that. Honestly, what I want to know more is—"
"Poverty. For a high schooler, money is a merciless enemy."
Ignoring her, Kawasaki cut in and started her confession.
"I have a happy family. My parents are loving and work hard. My little brother's grades are excellent. My little sister is thoughtful, obedient, and adorable—always so considerate, even from a young age. But even in a family like this…"
"Um… Kawasaki-san, you don't have to force yourself to say all this," Shouko interrupted gently, her small face tightening with discomfort.
Weren't people supposed to endure their bitterness instead of forcing it onto others?
No matter how hard she tried, she could never swallow bitter melon without grimacing.
It wasn't that she didn't want to listen—she just thought this wasn't the right time, the right place, or the right kind of relationship for this conversation.
Confessing these kinds of burdens should be done like she and Kyousuke-kun once had—standing together on the little bridge by the school gate, crying and embracing as worries and tears spilled out.
But now?
Just a moment ago Kawasaki was literally chasing her around like a villain.
Even if their bond had softened a little thanks to their talk about sisters, they were hardly at the level of best friends who could bare their souls.
Shouko's words made Kawasaki freeze.
"But… you looked like you really wanted to know," Kawasaki said hesitantly.
"Well, I was a little curious…"
Shouko faltered.
It was true—she did wonder why a stylish, fashionable girl like Kawasaki would do something so risky.
But letting curiosity about someone else's private matters show on her face was rude in itself.
So she bowed her head and said apologetically:
"I understand now. I'm sorry, Kawasaki-san. I won't make such an expression again."
Sliding her legs beneath her, Shouko straightened up properly, bowed seriously, and apologized.
Kawasaki blinked, startled by the sudden formality.
And in that moment, she remembered—this girl she had mistaken for some devilish manipulator… wasn't she originally someone she thought had a really kind personality?
"Ah—n-no, it's not like that. I was just overthinking. Honestly, I figured anyone would be curious about something like this, right?" Kawasaki stammered, waving her hands frantically.
She tried to bend her back in a deeper bow, but unfortunately Shouko had already taken up all the available space by bowing first, leaving Kawasaki no room to show off her own flexibility.
And in Japanese society, flexibility in one's bow was no small matter.
Whether you were a mere office worker or a company president, the depth of your bow determined your sincerity.
A ninety-degree bow was standard.
A hundred degrees showed real resolve.
If you could fold yourself until your head touched your legs, you'd rise through the ranks no matter how incompetent you were.
That was why secretaries to CEOs were often praised for their supple postures.
Seeing Kawasaki panic like this, Shouko couldn't help but smile.
"Looking at you now, Kawasaki-san… it feels a lot like looking at my old self," she said softly.
Then she stood up and offered her hand across the small space between them.
"…?"
Kawasaki raised her head, eyes wide with confusion.
The faint tear stains under her eyes connected perfectly with her beauty mark, making her look less like a delinquent gyaru and more like a fragile, soft-hearted girl.
Slowly, she reached out and grasped Shouko's hand, letting herself be pulled up to her feet.
Shouko guided her over to a polished wooden bench, where the two of them sat down side by side.
Running her hand across the smooth surface of the seat, Shouko whispered silently in her heart.
'Sorry, Kyousuke-kun. Looks like you won't be able to nap here at lunchtime today.'
Then, after a pause, she added mentally: 'Oh, right—I'll also have to apologize to Yukari-sensei. She won't be able to have lunch with Kyousuke-kun here today either.'
"This bench… Hojou bought it, didn't he?" Kawasaki asked suddenly.
"Mhm. Kawasaki-san, do you feel the sun is too harsh? If so, there's a parasol over by the door," Shouko said, pointing toward the stairwell.
Inside, they kept all sorts of things for Hojou Kyousuke's midday breaks—parasols, tables, lounge chairs, you name it.
"…Wow. It's like something straight out of a novel about some rich heir." Kawasaki's voice carried a trace of genuine admiration.
"Kyousuke-kun isn't a rich heir," Shouko said with a smile.
If Kawasaki ever met Eriri, she'd realize what a real young lady looked like—afternoon teas brewed only with leaves from Nuwara Eliya, tea cups from royal luxury collections, and an obsession with adding milk and water at precisely the right second.
Of course, that was just her school persona.
At home, she happily downed chilled bottled teas like a regular kid.
'Kyousuke-kun only seems this extravagant because Kisaki-san's around,' Shouko thought.
'I don't really think Kisaki-san's some conniving schemer… but let's be honest, ninety-nine percent of the bad rumors about Kyousuke-kun definitely trace back to him.'
But Kawasaki didn't push back against Shouko's denial.
She only lowered her gaze to the sun-warmed bench, wondering silently how many part-time shifts it would take to buy something this nice.
"…Before school started, I used to dream of eating lunch alone on the rooftop. But that fantasy was crushed on the very first day," she said quietly.
"Eh? Why?" Shouko asked in surprise.
Wasn't high school supposed to be about making friends and enjoying lunch together?
Even she didn't cling to Kyousuke and Sakura every single day.
"…Because I didn't want anyone to see me eating nothing but plain umeboshi bento every day." Kawasaki's tone was calm, almost detached.
"…"
Shouko stayed quiet.
Still, when she reached out her hand to Kawasaki earlier, she had already prepared herself—prepared to listen.
She knew that no matter how strong someone looked on the outside, everyone needed a chance to let things out. After all…
'Even I, once embarrassingly let myself get interviewed on TV and said all those mortifying things…'
'Ughhh, I want to die.'
Why hasn't Suimon TV gone bankrupt yet?!
Seriously, how does a channel that just ambushes random pedestrians with interviews still stay in business?
Don't tell me they're funding themselves through shady underground deals!
Just remembering that social-death-level moment made Shouko's cheeks flare hot.
Sure, the aftermath turned out… sweet.
That was when she got her very first hug with Kyousuke-kun.
But still—so embarrassing!
Kawasaki, who'd been waiting for some kind of response, turned her head… only to find Shouko's chubby baby cheeks puffed up red like a steaming kettle.
'Wait, huh? Shouldn't I be the embarrassed one spilling all this stuff?'
'Why's Nishimiya the one blushing?'
The silver-haired "almost-a-slave" girl tilted her head in confusion—but then she softened.
'As expected of Nishimiya-san. Her ability to empathize is… kind of touching.'
After a long moment of huffing and puffing, Shouko finally came back to herself.
"But… didn't you just say your parents' jobs were going well? How could money still be so tight?"
She knew Kawasaki's tuition had already been covered by scholarships.
It shouldn't be that desperate.
"…But I'm not the only child in my family."
Kawasaki leaned back on her palms, tiptoes tapping against the ground as she gazed at the sky with a soft sigh.
"My little brother, Taishi, is in his second year of middle school. It's about time he starts going to cram school. Once my parents set aside money for his fees, there's no way they can afford to pay for mine too."
The blue sky and drifting clouds reflected in her eyes—free and unbound, unlike her, who felt chained firmly in place.
"I guess… it's probably hard for someone like you to understand, Nishimiya. After all—"
"Eh?! Cram school is that expensive?!" Shouko's eyes went wide.
"…What?"
Kawasaki turned, baffled.
A student who made it into a prestigious private school like Soubu High, without cram school?
Impossible. And Nishimiya didn't exactly strike her as the genius type, either.
"Wait—you really didn't know? Is it just that your parents paid everything behind the scenes, so you never had to think about it?" she asked, a little envy curling in her chest.
"No, no, no, that's not it at all! I never went to cram school."
"You've… never been to cram school?" Kawasaki blinked, stunned.
"Wow. Must be nice, having a brain that actually works."
At that, Shouko scratched her head, giggling sheepishly.
"Actually, I don't think I'm smart at all. Honestly, I might even be worse than you, Kawasaki."
"Then how the heck did you get into Soubu High? By paying a sponsor fee?"
"Of course not! See, that's your problem, Kawasaki-san you've got Kyousuke-kun all wrong, and now you've got me all wrong too. My family isn't rich like you're imagining!"
Shouko sat up straighter, serious.
She had to set this record straight.
She can get into Soubu wasn't because of money.
"Then… how?"
"…Honestly, it's all thanks to Kyousuke-kun. He tutored me in everything. Every subject, every tricky question—I could always count on him.
Back in middle school, we'd study together after dinner almost every day. On weekends, we'd go to the park for picnics and review lessons.
Eating snacks Kyousuke-kun made himself… it felt like even my brain started working better."
Her voice softened, a shy smile on her face.
Watching that expression, Kawasaki suddenly felt a wave of discomfort twist in her chest.
A clear lake. A refreshing breeze. A brilliant spring day.
Tutoring from a guy more skilled than any cram school teacher, plus home-cooked sweets to top it off.
Compared to her own overpriced cram school, the picture Nishimiya painted was so dazzling it was almost nauseating.
Her nose flared, and she let out a sharp huff.
"Please. It's not the snacks—it's just that hearing Hojou's voice probably makes your study efficiency skyrocket."
The sourness in her tone was practically dripping off the words.
"Ah!" Shouko clapped her hands, face lighting up.
"You're right! When I listen to Kyousuke-kun's voice during morning readings, it feels like I memorize words way faster! It's like his voice imprints itself directly into my brain."
'So that's why he wanted me to go to the same high school as him?'
Of course, even if he hadn't said anything, she'd already been dreaming of attending high school with him.
But now that they actually sat in the same classroom together—this happiness was beyond anything she'd imagined.
"—Tch."
Kawasaki sucked in a sharp breath, goosebumps crawling up her arms as she stared at the pink-haired girl beside her.
The more she listened, the more nauseous she felt.
"Hey. I thought we were talking about my problems? If you wanna show off your lovey-dovey life, we can save that for a café after school."
She expected Nishimiya to finally dial it down.
But to her horror, the girl just blushed, lowered her head, and whispered something under her breath.
Kawasaki leaned closer—then nearly recoiled on the spot.
"…Lovey-dovey… love… ahh~ even Kawasaki thinks Kyousuke-kun and I are really lovey-dovey~"
"I—ugh! Enough already! So my misery just makes you even happier, huh?!" Kawasaki practically screamed, on the verge of collapse.
'Damn it, damn it, damn it!'
'How did I never realize Nishimiya was this kind of girl before?!'
And what was worse—she swore she could actually see it.
Pink, cotton-candy-scented mist seeping out of Nishimiya's body, sweet and suffocating, like it was about to swallow her whole.
Finally, Shouko snapped out of her lovesick haze, face a little red as she mumbled:
"Hehe… sorry, Kawasaki. I didn't think something this small would make it seem like Kyousuke-kun and I are being all lovey-dovey.
Ah, please don't get the wrong idea, I wasn't trying to brag! It's just… compared to other things, exam tutoring really isn't much. Like, when it comes to planning the future, Kyousuke-kun has actually…"
Before she could continue, Kawasaki's breathing hitched.
Watching the girl gear up for another round of love-sick monologuing, she acted on pure instinct.
She slapped her hand right over Shouko's mouth.