"My father and I both graduated from top universities. Logically, you should've inherited our intelligence too, but somehow it seems you've ended up with the opposite…"
Mrs. Sawamura muttered this as she drove, her tone half complaint, half lecture.
In the passenger seat, Eriri pouted, lips pressed tight, eyes turned stubbornly toward the window. She didn't like hearing this—but she couldn't exactly argue back either.
Twenty minutes later, the car pulled over at the side of the road, hazard lights blinking.
Mrs. Sawamura took off her sunglasses and looked across the street at a small bar called March Seventh.
On either side of the entrance stood two white funeral-style wreaths.
Yes, white wreaths.
Unlike China, where grand openings were celebrated with gaudy flower baskets, in Japan it was common to send wreaths. White, in particular, carried a meaning of purity and good fortune here.
Just like the traditional bridal attire shiromuku—pure white from head to toe—worn at weddings.
"Alright, you can get out here. Remember to grab the orchids from the trunk—the ones I just picked up from the florist. When you give them to Uncle Minamoto, be polite, say something sweet. Don't just stand around mute like you did at New Year's, lips zipped shut like a broken doll."
Mrs. Sawamura was thoughtful as ever. Orchids were a common gift for business openings, symbolizing happiness taking flight and success in work. A blessing for prosperity and good fortune.
"I knooow, already!"
It was such a small thing, but her mother had nagged her the whole ride.
So what if her English grades were bad? That didn't mean she was stupid!
Eriri pulled the orchids from the trunk, then leaned down at the driver's window. "Since we're already here, Mom, are you really not going in with me?"
Her mother reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I know what you're thinking. I'll stop by Senya's father's bar eventually, but not today. Once the place is settled, I'll bring your father and some friends, maybe even open a tab to show support. That'll raise your standing a little in Senya's eyes."
"That's not what I meant…"
Caught off guard, Eriri's face flushed red. She had been thinking exactly that, but… her mother didn't need to say it out loud! She shut her mouth, nodded reluctantly.
"You can stay late if you want—I'll have your father pick you up. Or… do you have some other plan for tonight?" Her mother smiled knowingly. "Our guest room hasn't been used in a while, you know."
"Mom, what are you even talking about?" Eriri blinked in confusion, missing the teasing glint in her mother's eyes.
"Really… you're already in middle school, but still so dense. When I was your age, I understood these things perfectly. That boy is so talented—if you don't do something soon… Well, anyway, call when you're coming home."
Without explaining further, Mrs. Sawamura stepped on the gas and drove off.
"Meow…?"
Eriri tilted her head, completely lost. But her personality was carefree, still innocent at heart. Since she couldn't figure it out, she simply tossed her mother's words aside and skipped happily across the street, orchids cradled in her arms.
She really was grateful, even if she hadn't shown it in the car. Not only had her mother let her come, she had even prepared the orchids for her.
When Rikka had told her Uncle Minamoto was opening a bar, she hadn't thought about bringing a gift. She'd just shared Rikka's excitement without thinking ahead.
Fine. To keep Mom happy, I'll actually study English a bit tonight… Maybe get at least thirty points. No, forty!
Smiling at the thought, she pushed open the bar's door.
"Excuse me—"
Her voice trailed off as her eyes locked with another pair—deep blue against wine red.
Eriri and Utaha Kasumigaoka froze.
Utaha was the first to recover, smiling as she rose gracefully from her seat at the bar. "Why, Sawamura-san. Long time no see."
What's she doing here?!
Annoyance bubbled in Eriri's chest, but she forced it down. Smiling faces shouldn't be met with scowls, after all. And it wasn't like their relationship was that bad.
"…Long time no see, Kasumigaoka-san. When did you get here?"
"I just arrived."
"I see…" Eriri looked around awkwardly. "No one else here?"
"Uncle Minamoto went shopping, Senya is handing out coupons to nearby shops, and Rikka and Toka are at the back door signing for deliveries."
Almost as if on cue, Rikka and Toka walked in, carrying a heavy case of liquor between them. Seeing them struggle, Eriri quickly set the orchids down and ran to help.
Utaha moved too, but Toka shook her head firmly. "Kasumigaoka-san, please stay by the bar. Our phones and the cash register are there. Better to have someone keep watch."
Tokyo's crime rate had been strangely rising in recent years—petty thefts, muggings, even arson. It was better to be cautious.
Utaha accepted, returning to her seat. Her eyes fell on the orchids Eriri had left carelessly on the counter. Poor flowers, already a little bent.
She picked them up gently, found an empty vase behind the bar, filled it with water, and placed the arrangement by the entrance where guests would notice.
Just then, Minamoto Sanada—Senya's father—returned with a bag of fruit. He immediately noticed Utaha arranging the flowers.
He knew enough to recognize orchids and their meaning. His impression of the girl brightened. "Thank you, Shiha-chan. These look wonderful—you really went out of your way."
Utaha blinked. A misunderstanding! She hadn't brought the flowers.
Quickly, she shook her head. "No, Uncle, these were from Sawamura-san—"
The door opened mid-sentence. A man with an armband and clipboard walked in. "Hello, we're with the fire safety committee. Just a routine inspection."
Sanada nodded, putting the fruit aside. "Of course, right this way."
Conversation cut short, Utaha sighed helplessly.
At that moment, Senya returned from handing out coupons. Utaha smiled warmly. "Senya-kun, welcome back. Good work."
"It's nothing. Thank you for watching the place."
Her little efforts had paid off—the way he addressed her had grown closer, more natural.
"It's the least I could do, compared to what you've done for me," she said softly, handing him a tissue. It was a hot, heavy day; rain was surely coming.
Senya wiped his forehead, accidentally glancing down. …She really does love stockings, huh. Even in this heat, she wore black tights with loafers. Probably hadn't even gone home after school.
Utaha misread his gaze as appreciation. Flustered yet pleased, she subtly shifted, angling her legs for him to see better.
"Oh, and those orchids were from Sawamura-san. But Uncle mistook them for mine. Maybe explain later, if you can."
"…Got it."
Before they could say more, Toka called Senya over to help with the deliveries.
Though lean under his clothes, Senya's wiry frame hid surprising strength. His sisters knew this well; he could do push-ups with Rikka on his back without breaking a sweat. Perfect for heavy lifting.
Once the work was done, everyone sat. The girls, too young for alcohol, received coffee or fruit drinks. Sanada chatted with them, Utaha's sweet words making him laugh openly.
She had a gift for speaking, her flattery refined, almost poetic. By the end, Sanada promised to treat her parents someday, his mood soaring.
Utaha felt equally elated. She'd always thought of herself as withdrawn and gloomy, but maybe she just hadn't met the right people before.
By evening, more familiar faces arrived. Saeko Busujima came to apologize again for her father's earlier rudeness. Sanada waved it off with kindness, though inwardly, he understood perfectly. These girls… they weren't circling him. They were circling his son.
Senya's charm was undeniable. Even as a child, he'd drawn Yukino and Eriri close. Now, in middle school, girls like Saeko and Utaha gravitated toward him as well. His future… well, Sanada could only hope it was fortune, not misfortune, that followed.
The night wound down quietly. The bar's opening was modest—just a few customers, as expected. But with patience, word would spread.
Still, Sanada's worries surfaced when profits came to only a few thousand yen. That night, he nearly lit a cigarette for the first time in years… until a phone call from Senya stopped him.
"Dad, the bar just opened. It's normal to be slow at first. Don't stress over what you can't change."
Sanada chuckled, tossing the cigarette away. Somehow, his son always knew just what to say.
Senya, watching through his "god's-eye view," smiled in relief. Cigarettes weren't worth it. But if his father was this troubled, then maybe it was time he did something to help the bar grow.
The next day, during class breaks, Senya received a message from Saeko.
"Senya-kun, could you come to the kendo club at lunch? There's something I'd like to discuss in person."
He agreed, curious.
At noon, he arrived to find the club training unusually hard under Yusuke Ushiyama's stern eye. Wooden swords balanced bottles of water, trembling arms straining. Punishment, apparently, for careless words comparing him to a disgraced foreign player.
Senya chuckled. Ushiyama's pride wasn't in victory—it was in integrity. He'd never stoop to dirty tricks.
Beside him, Saeko lowered her voice. "…I wanted to talk about my father. He'll be leaving for overseas again soon. Before he goes, he wants to visit your father's bar one more time. To apologize properly. And to say goodbye."
Senya blinked, momentarily caught by the faint sheen in her eyes. She looked so vulnerable. He shook his head quickly, pushing down the odd warmth rising in him.
"Understood," he said gently.