"Then you should come along too."
When the words hit her ears, Takahashi Mio felt like a stone dropped into her chest. She froze, unsure what to say.
His tone was as flat as water—no hint of emotion.
But that very plainness made her uneasy. It sounded like agreement, yet the refusal inside it couldn't be more obvious.
Mio snapped back to reality: she and Shiratori Kiyoya had no emotional foundation. Never mind his history with Hojo Shione—even her sister would be closer to him than Mio was now.
She was just a stranger he'd known for not even two weeks.
An unnamed feeling welled up— not quite jealousy, but infuriating all the same.
Her hands, clenched on her thighs, left no gap for air to slip through.
Damn it.
They already broke up…
Her sudden silence tipped Kiyoya off. He turned to study her face. "What's wrong?"
"Ah…"
She recovered, a brilliant smile blossoming as she tucked hair behind her ear. "I was only joking. Since you already planned it, dragging an outsider like me along would be way too abrupt, right?"
No matter how carefully she tried to modulate her voice, the forced phrasing was even more awkward than tagging along to meet Hojo Suzune.
Kiyoya gave her a long look. "Do you actually want to go?"
Caught out in an instant, her eyes wavered; panic fluttered in her chest; cold sweat slicked her clenched palms. She kept the stiff smile. "Huh? I don't."
All she got back was his silent stare. In seconds she couldn't bear it; her head dropped.
She suddenly regretted saying he shouldn't see Hojo Suzune.
Damn it!
"I really don't recommend you come meet Hojo Suzune," Kiyoya said, watching her profile. "That kid's got personality issues. Not much of a temper either— even her sister can't handle her."
That explanation surprised Mio. Her pale, lively ears twitched; the tangle in her chest loosened, and she looked up. "Then… she's willing to go out with you?"
"Yeah." He nodded, plain as day. "She likes me."
"…"
Staring at his calm face, Mio had no idea what to say. So bluntly telling your girlfriend another girl likes you—what a jerk.
And yet she didn't hate it. Her rosy lips parted; she asked softly, "And you'll still go? Aren't you afraid she'll cling to you?"
"I'm not."
"If I avoided her, that would mean a guilty conscience. 'Impossible' means impossible. Otherwise I wouldn't have posted our status—she can see it."
"Oh."
Her scrambled thoughts settled with his words.
"You don't have to worry about friends spotting us. It's just a photo; they've never seen me in person. I change my clothes and no one will recognize me."
"Oh."
"Alright, that settles it."
He zipped his backpack, slung it over one shoulder, and met her eyes. "But more than this messy stuff, I want you focused on the tasks I gave you. If you don't hit the targets, you don't get a yen."
He shut off the AC, turned crisply, and left the classroom.
"…"
Watching him go, Mio's eyes filled with conflicted light. She bit her lip.
How over the line.
Going on a 'date' with another girl and talking about it with such a clear conscience…
She grumbled inwardly. Still—no matter what, she was the girlfriend now.
Turning over what he'd said, the more she thought, the better she felt. Soon her satisfaction peaked.
She let out a sudden giggle.
Her bright smile bloomed like fireworks.
…
Noon, the Hojo home.
Hojo Suzune stood before her bedroom mirror, holding outfits to her body one after another, critiquing her reflection while muttering:
"This one's okay, but a little too soft? Not my style at all…"
"This one's way too loud—when did I buy that?"
"This one's ugly…"
Try one, toss one: the chair, the bed, the floor—clothes were everywhere. She even dug out her junior high uniform to try on—surprisingly still fit after all this time.
Suzune stared a second, then angrily flung the uniform into the trash and pulled on a white dress instead.
But once it was on, the fabric at the chest hung conspicuously empty.
"Sis! Why is your dress in my closet?!"
"…"
Who knows how long she fussed, but in the end she packed three barely acceptable outfits into a suitcase. The kimono had been bought with Mom last month.
Sweat slicked her back—about as tiring as her hardest piano practice, really. She wiped her brow and flopped onto the bed.
Clothes: check. Now for tomorrow's plan…
For her birthday in Tokyo, Shiratori Kiyoya had asked where she wanted to go so he could prepare. She flatly refused to tell him.
How could she let him plan everything? What would be the fun in that?
She narrowed her eyes and smiled, curled on her side with her pale legs tucked in tight.
She opened her phone's notes app to scan her plan for holes one more time—tonight she and Sis were heading to Tokyo…
She'd just gotten halfway when a notification banner popped up.
[Shiratori Kiyoya: …]
Suzune blinked, surprised. He's posting a status? If it wasn't necessary, Shiratori never posted.
She tapped in. A caption—"Please take care of me from now on"—and a cozy photo of him with another woman stabbed at her eyes.
?
A needle prick to the heart. Her pupils shrank; she sprang off the bed.
She bolted toward the living room, shouting:
"Sis!"