Knowing they were about to head out, Touma Kazusa disappeared into her room and reappeared less than five minutes later.
That was impressively fast.
Even Rikka, who didn't particularly care about her girlish image, would still fuss in her room for at least ten minutes before going out.
Tokika took even longer—though she was naturally beautiful and didn't wear makeup, just braiding her hair consumed plenty of time.
Even Junko-mama was the same. For most women, this kind of delay was perfectly normal.
"So… are we leaving now?"
Standing prettily before him, Kazusa wore a white knit sweater under a navy blazer, paired with a checkered skirt and thigh-high black socks.
Even though she deliberately avoided eye contact and tried her best to appear calm and unconcerned…
Minamoto Senya could clearly sense the eager anticipation radiating off her.
It almost felt…
A little guilty, somehow.
But Senya couldn't help recalling his neighbors' golden retriever.
Back when Tokika sprained her ankle and couldn't walk, he had borrowed a bicycle from the elderly couple next door to take her to school.
Later, when the couple left for a three-day trip, they entrusted him with walking their golden retriever. The food and water were handled by dispensers, but they worried the dog would get too lonely.
Every time Senya came to fetch it, the retriever would circle him wildly, tail wagging like an electric fan.
Not the same species, not even the same kind of reaction—yet somehow, Kazusa's current excitement reminded him of that scene.
Weird.
"You're wearing your school uniform, aren't you?" Senya asked, forcing himself away from the odd comparison.
"Yeah. What, is something wrong?" Kazusa looked down at herself, checking if anything was out of place.
"There is. The top's fine, but the bottom's too light. I just stepped outside—it's still cold."
"But I usually wear this."
"Normally it's fine. Right now, you'd better change."
"You sound just like my mom, always nagging about clothes…"
"…"
Though she muttered under her breath, Kazusa obediently turned around and went back to her room.
There's a saying: There's a special kind of cold called 'Mom thinks you're cold.'
Senya had no intention of acting like her parent, nor of forcing her into heavy leggings.
But since she was only just recovering from illness—and the doctor had warned her to keep warm—he figured at least covering her bare thighs was sensible.
[Senya, you're amazing! You just pulled off something I, her mother, can never do. It's always a war to get her to dress warmly before going out.]
Senya sighed at the message from Touma Youko.
That woman really was energetic.
Even while overseas in America, she still had to insert herself and make her presence felt.
[Aunt Youko, isn't it past three in the morning over there? Don't you ever sleep?]
[Watching you and Kazusa interact is so much fun! It feels like youth again—I'm too excited to sleep!]
"…"
Whatever.
[Oh, by the way, there are scarves hanging by the door. Make sure Kazusa wears one when you go out!]
[I'll mention it. Whether she wears it is her choice.]
[Don't worry, she'll listen to you.]
"How about now? Better?"
When Kazusa came out again, her skirt had been swapped for jeans, and her blazer for a black wool coat—matching Senya's in color.
Senya nodded approvingly. "Touma-san, you've got great fashion sense. You look stylish. You're tall, too—if I didn't know better, I'd think you were a magazine model."
Caught off guard by the praise, Kazusa pressed her lips together before murmuring, "…I-I just threw this on. Mom usually buys my clothes."
"Alright then, let's head out."
Kazusa nodded, falling in step behind him.
At the entrance, Senya repeated Youko's suggestion, saying the wind was strong and she should wear a scarf.
He expected resistance—
—but this time, Kazusa quietly chose a white scarf from the rack and wrapped it around her neck.
The two switched off the lights and stepped outside.
Down the garden path, they spotted a car idling by the gate, headlights glowing.
Outside the gate, the vehicle's profile came into full view.
A distinctive grille, sharp headlamps, and the four interlocking rings on the front—an Audi A8, no doubt.
As soon as the driver saw them, he hurried out and bowed deeply, hand on chest like a butler out of an anime.
"Would you be Minamoto Senya-sama and Touma Kazusa-sama?"
The man wore a butler's uniform, white gloves, slicked-back hair, and gold-rimmed glasses. As he approached, a strong perfume trailed with him—something Kazusa clearly disliked.
She glanced at Senya as if to say: This flashy guy isn't your doing, is he?
Senya shook his head. He had no clue either.
Still, he answered politely: "Yes."
"Excellent. I'm an employee of Count Bespoke Services. Touma Youko-sama placed an order with us just now. I'll be your driver for the evening."
Kazusa frowned. "How did Mom know we were going out?"
So she really didn't know about the cameras in her own house?
Senya kept his tone calm. "I mentioned it to her earlier."
"Oh."
Kazusa accepted that without question.
"And where would you like to go first?"
"One moment."
Senya checked his phone, confirmed it really was Youko who sent the car, and only then led Kazusa inside.
The first stop he gave was a nearby pharmacy.
He bought masks for both of them.
"Why do we need these?" Kazusa asked.
"There's a lot of colds and flu going around. We're heading somewhere crowded. Better safe than sorry."
"…"
She thought he was overreacting—but after a moment, realized it was just like earlier: his way of caring.
Her heart fluttered.
Turning toward the window to hide her expression, she obediently put the mask on.
"Where to next, sir?" the driver asked.
"Minato Ward. Tokyo Tower."
"Understood."
The driver parked near Tokyo Tower and hurried to open their door, even shielding the roof with his hand to prevent them from bumping their heads.
The service was considerate—but also awkward.
Neither Kazusa, despite her wealthy upbringing, nor Senya, from an ordinary household, was used to it.
Thankfully, the driver's role ended there. After handing them his card, he promised to come at full speed whenever they called.
Senya doubted that—Tokyo's center streets on Christmas Eve weren't exactly known for smooth traffic.
Together, he and Kazusa walked through the festive streets toward the glowing landmark.
The year was ending, and the city was alive with dazzling decorations.
In Japan, where anime culture thrived, girls dressed as Rudolphs were everywhere—tiny antlers on their heads, playful costumes that were both cute and… distracting.
Kazusa's attention, however, was caught by a scene outside a snack shop.
Senya followed her gaze.
A Santa Claus was handing out free candy to passersby.
"You don't still believe Santa's real, do you?" Senya teased.
Kazusa scoffed. "What are you saying? In today's world, even preschoolers know he's fictional. Who would be childish enough to believe that?"
Meanwhile, across the city at the Minamoto household…
Curled up by the kotatsu, peeling mandarins and watching TV, Rikka sneezed.
Her throat didn't hurt, and her nose wasn't runny.
Which meant—
She frowned, stretched out her short legs under the table, and poked Tokika. "Sis, are you badmouthing me in your head again?"
Tokika didn't even look at her. Still watching the TV, she sipped her tea and replied lazily, "Idiot."
"Aha! You said it out loud this time!"
Setting down her cup, Tokika glanced at her with a smirk. "Right now, Mom, Dad, and Senya aren't home. I'd think carefully before mouthing off."
"…Sorry." Rikka shrank instantly.
But then her eyes widened. She shot a finger at the TV, stunned. "Senya… That's Senya! He's on TV!"
Tokika turned—and sure enough, there he was.
A Christmas Eve street-interview special.
The host had randomly pulled aside a passerby… and it was unmistakably her foster brother, Minamoto Senya.
"No way! I have to tell Eiri and the others!" Rikka grabbed her phone.
In the group chat founded around Senya, she snapped a photo of the screen and sent it with a caption:
[TV TOKYO! My big bro's being interviewed live right now! Hurry and watch!]
At a banquet with her parents, a bored Sawamura Eiri felt her phone buzz.
At home, Busujima Saeko, kneeling in her room as she polished her family's sword collection, saw her phone light up.
And at dinner with her family, still sulking because she hadn't been able to arrange plans with a certain someone, Kasumigaoka Utaha caught the notification and immediately left the table.
Heading straight to the living room, she turned on the TV.
As the most vibrant city in Asia, Tokyo's streets were never lacking in live-streaming influencers or fashionably dressed girls treating the sidewalks like their personal runway.
Still, Minamoto Senya never imagined that simply noticing Touma Kazuha's stubborn fascination with a Santa Claus handing out candy—taking her closer for a look and pocketing a few sweets—would somehow end with a television crew locking onto them.
The host, bursting with holiday enthusiasm, lit up the moment he spotted them. Even with masks on, the two of them gave off an aura of good looks and refinement.
In a few quick strides, the man was in front of them, microphone thrust forward, while the cameraman shouldered his rig and zoomed in on Senya's face.
"Happy Christmas Eve! Hello there, we're from TOKYO TV, currently doing a live street interview special for Christmas Eve. Could we ask the two of you a few questions?"
As the host spoke, the cameraman panned from Senya to the girl beside him—Touma Kazuha, who looked equally striking under the city's lights.
Kazuha, unlike Senya who remained calm, clearly disliked this sudden intrusion. She stepped aside, slipping partly behind him as if to escape the spotlight.
"Sorry, but we have other plans," Senya said politely, declining.
The host wasn't giving up that easily. With a grin, he unleashed his trump card:"It won't take long at all—just a few questions! And afterwards, we'll even give you a special gift."
Off-camera, a staff member raised the prize: a plush toy.
Stubby-limbed, round-bodied, nose tilted upward—an absurdly cute capybara.
Senya recalled that Rikka had been quite into these recently.
Well then… why not? He nodded.
"Great! Would the two of you mind taking off your masks first?"
Senya complied without fuss. Seeing that, Kazuha reluctantly followed suit.
"Oh! Both of you are really handsome and beautiful!" the host blurted honestly.
Kazuha remained unmoved—at least by his flattery. Senya just smiled politely.
"And how should we address you?"
"I'm Minamoto. As for her…" Senya glanced at Kazuha.
With a faint nod, she permitted him to share only her surname.
"She's Touma."
"You both look young. Still in school, right?"
"Yes," Senya answered.
"From the same school?"
"No."
"Eh, not from the same school? But here you are, spending Christmas Eve together—wearing what looks like matching outfits. That sounds like more than just classmates, doesn't it?" The host's grin widened, eyes practically sparkling with gossip.
"We're friends," Kazuha suddenly popped her head out from behind Senya and answered crisply.
"Oh?" The shy girl stepping forward like that was enough to ignite the gossiping spirit of every variety show host in Japan.
"So Miss Touma says you're friends. How do you feel about that, Mr. Minamoto?"
The man clearly expected embarrassment, maybe even disappointment, to flicker across the boy's face.
But Senya, unruffled, replied, "Sorry to disappoint. We really are just friends. And we're not in matching outfits either—it's just coincidence our coats are similar in color. There's no dramatic relationship story here."
"Ah, so it's a pure friendship. Still, that's nice—something to be admired! Could we ask what your plans are for the evening?"
"Walk around Tokyo Tower for a while. Not sure where we'll eat yet. Then maybe stroll by Tokyo Bay."
"Ooh, Tokyo Bay at night is beautiful! Last year, our program even ranked it in the 'Top Ten Confession Spots in Tokyo.' At night, with the city lights, it placed seventh. Minamoto-kun, you're really saying you don't have any hidden plans for tonight?"
"Nope. Just a simple outing together."
By now, thanks to the interview, more and more passersby had stopped to watch. Some were even snapping photos.
Kazuha had performed countless times on stage during piano competitions, bathed in both audience stares and broadcast cameras.
But this was different. Entirely different.
Uneasy, she tugged gently at Senya's coat sleeve, signaling her wish to end it.
The TOKYO TV cameraman, seasoned veteran that he was, immediately caught the movement—and zoomed in.
Closer.
Closer still.
On tens of thousands of television sets and livestreams, the shot was crystal clear:
Touma Kazuha, half her face tucked shyly behind her scarf, adorably insecure, pinched the hem of Minamoto Senya's coat with trembling fingertips.
And Minamoto Senya, upon noticing, turned to her with a soft, indulgent smile—so gentle it could have sent every stray cat in the neighborhood into heat on the spot. The message in his expression was simple: It's fine. I've got this.
A few more questions, a few more polite answers, and it was done.
The staff handed them the prizes—two capybara plushies. Each one held a heart, and when placed side by side, the hearts connected with an arrow.
It was hard to imagine this wasn't deliberate.
The camera even lingered for a lingering close-up as the two walked away, not hand-in-hand, but shoulder-to-shoulder, close enough that the space between them hardly existed.
Cut to the studio.
A female celebrity clutched her cheeks dramatically. "Kyaaa! Their relationship is so pure, so adorable!"
The host grinned, turning to a male guest. "Ohta-san, do you really believe Minamoto and Touma are just friends?"
"Nope," the man answered without hesitation. "Even if they are now, they won't be for long."
Laughter rippled through the panel.
"Seriously, who spends Christmas Eve together as 'just friends'?"
"If you go out on Christmas Eve, you're basically dating."
"They obviously like each other!"
"Well, I hope it works out. Such a perfect pair—handsome boy, beautiful girl…"
The banter carried on, bright and lively, as was expected of a variety show.
—But not everyone watching shared the cheer.
Kasumigaoka Utaha silently switched off the TV, face dark, and returned to her room without a word.
"Eh? Utaha, aren't you going to eat?" her mother called after her, but received no reply. She sighed. "Honestly, that girl… Well, more for you." She scooped her daughter's unfinished meal into her husband's bowl.
Mr. Kasumigaoka only stared quietly, expression unreadable.
Elsewhere, at the Sawamura family's event hall, Mrs. Sawamura found her daughter frozen in place, phone shattered on the floor.
Picking it up with a chuckle, she ruffled Eriri's blonde head."Honestly, all this fuss just over a phone breaking? Don't worry. Since your grades have been pretty good lately, I'll buy you the newest fruit-brand model. Now smile for Mom, okay?"
Meanwhile, in her own room, Busujima Saeko put her phone down after briefly glancing at the broadcast. Her face was calm as ever. Without a flicker of emotion, she returned to polishing her family's heirloom sword, movements smooth and graceful as though nothing had changed.
"…Those reporters were so self-absorbed. Never listened to us. So stupid."
Regardless of what she truly felt, Kazuha was the first to vent after they left the crowd.
Even as she muttered, she kept sneaking glances at Senya.
He only gave a distracted "Mm-hm" while holding both plushies in one arm and scrolling through his phone with the other.
"You're texting my mom again?" she asked.
"Nope. Checking the price of these plushies… Oh wow, they're over two thousand yen each."
Senya tilted his phone so she could see.
Expression flat, Kazuha glanced at the screen.
She realized something then—compared to her flustered self, Minamoto Senya genuinely didn't care about the interview.
So basically… she was the only one overthinking.
And for some reason, that irritated her.
"Here, take this."
Senya pocketed his phone and shoved one of the capybara plushies into her arms.
She blinked. "Why give me this?"
"You were in the interview too. They're meant for both of us. One each, fair and square."
"…."
Kazuha stared down at the plush, then at his, before lowering her head.
The irritation vanished without her even realizing.
Senya, meanwhile, snapped a photo of his plush. He planned to send it to Rikka—promise her she could have it when he got back.
But before he could, he saw Rikka's messages flood the group chat:
[Senya, who's that girl with you?!][I've never seen her before!][Don't tell me she's your girlfriend?!]
What, was this show's rating really that high? And of all people, Rikka had to see it?
The world sure worked in mysterious ways.
Better not reply. If he did, she'd never stop.
Just then, Senya's phone buzzed again—an incoming call from an unfamiliar number.
It turned out to be exactly what Touma Youko had arranged beforehand: an accomplice of sorts, someone tasked with ensuring her daughter enjoyed tonight to the fullest.
Senya agreed to meet the caller at the entrance beneath Tokyo Tower.
Tokyo Tower's restaurants were usually impossible to book, especially on holidays. How Touma Youko had managed it all the way from overseas was anyone's guess.
But for now, Senya supposed, it didn't matter.
That little tsundere flavor…~
Far across the ocean, Touma Youko saw the message from her daughter. Hugging a pillow between her thighs, she giggled to herself in delight and rolled over like a giddy schoolgirl.
Meanwhile, Minamoto Senya had just finished his meal.
He took a sip of cold water, wiped his mouth, and breathed out.
The restaurant had provided complimentary mint candies for fresh breath, so there was no need to chew gum afterward.
"So then, just like you said before—shall we take a walk nearby?"
"Mm."
Touma Kazuha hadn't had many moments of happiness in her life.
But now, she desperately wanted to share what few she had with him.
"Thank you both for dining with us. This way, please," the waiter said politely, escorting them to the entrance.
At the door, the hostess gave a small bow and handed them parting gifts.
A Christmas-themed bouquet, bright with seasonal decorations.
And a gift bag bearing the restaurant's name, inside of which were two towels.
Senya carried the bag himself.
As for the bouquet, Kazuha accepted it, holding the flowers close to her chest.
"Please take care on your way home. We look forward to your next visit."
———
Now, Kazuha found herself regretting something.
She really shouldn't have replied to her mother's message earlier!
Because the moment they stepped out of the restaurant, her mom had doubled down, firing off message after message without end.
Things like: "Come to think of it, you and little Senya being together tonight… this is basically a date."
Or: "Did he tell you that you looked cute this evening?"
Or even worse: "From my experience, middle school romances are precious. Just holding hands is wonderful enough—save the other things for later, okay?"
What even was this nonsense? What kind of mother said these things to her own daughter?!
Completely ridiculous.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, Kazuha blocked her mom.
It didn't matter. After tonight, she could always unblock her again.
"You've been awfully busy ever since we left the restaurant," Senya teased lightly.
Kazuha slipped her phone, now silent, back into her pocket. "No idea what happened—just kept getting spam messages."
"Spam can be annoying."
Senya suddenly reached out and pulled her by the arm, tugging her closer to him.
Before she even realized what was happening, the sharp sound of wheels slicing through air rang behind her—a bicycle sped past with a loud whoosh.
They were walking along the straight coastal path near Shiodome, close to Tokyo Bay.
On their left stretched a strip of lawn that separated the walkway from the road and clusters of city buildings.
On their right, another lawn led to a sharp drop in elevation. A line of concrete posts linked by iron chains marked the barrier.
Beyond that lay the beach, with warning signs posted every few meters forbidding people from climbing over.
This road was popular at night—joggers, couples strolling, cyclists whizzing by, kids on skateboards and rollerblades.
Senya had simply been worried she might get clipped by the speeding bicycle. That was why he'd pulled her aside.
"Thanks."
Kazuha glanced at the cyclist riding off into the distance and then belatedly thanked him.
"No problem."
After that, Senya moved to her outer side, keeping himself between her and the road, subtly shielding her.
Kazuha said nothing, her expression unchanged. But her steps became lighter, quicker, as though she were walking with newfound ease.
"This place is different from last time," she murmured.
"What's changed?"
"There didn't used to be grass on either side. The path wasn't this smooth, and the streetlights weren't this bright."
"The city's been developing."
"There used to be little vendors here too. Nothing rare, just small stalls. But having sellers around, people gathering—it made the place feel lively."
As she recalled the past, Kazuha lowered her gaze to the solid white line painted on the pavement. Aligning her feet with it, she stepped carefully along, one measured stride at a time.
"So, do you prefer how it was before, or now?"
"—!!"
She froze on the spot.
Senya, who had just lifted his eyes to the night sky, walked a step further before realizing she wasn't beside him anymore.
"What's wrong?" He turned back.
"N-nothing!"
Cutting off her tangled thoughts, Kazuha ducked her head and hurried to catch up.
That question, left unanswered, was buried then and there.
Senya didn't ask again. Kazuha didn't explain further.
The two resumed their walk as before, chatting idly—most of the topics initiated by Senya, most of the responses coming from her.
The mood should have settled into something gentle, unremarkable. Like the calm waves lapping quietly against Tokyo Bay tonight.
But as Senya himself had said earlier: life is full of unexpected moments. You just had to get used to them.
And in a city as vast as Tokyo, of course it had to happen here, now.
Fate between childhood acquaintances, it seemed, never quite faded.
This time, it was Senya who stopped.
Kazuha fell silent, her turn to glance at him with puzzled eyes.
"I see someone I know," he explained.
Someone he knew?
The next moment, she followed his gaze. Ahead, in a group of three, one woman suddenly turned toward them. Her face lit up with surprise and delight as she raised a hand high, hurrying over.
"Well, if it isn't little Senya! What are the odds of running into you here? Honestly, what are the chances!"
Haruno's voice was full of energy, her tone exaggerated—as flamboyant as ever.
Her eyes flicked to Kazuha, who stood awkwardly at Senya's side, bouquet in her arms. Haruno's gaze narrowed slightly, though her smile remained warm and welcoming.
"Hmm? This classmate, I don't think I've seen her before."
By then, Yukinoshita's mother and Yukino herself had also approached.
Mrs. Yukinoshita wore the same composed, graceful smile she always did. Just like her eldest daughter, she greeted Senya with polite familiarity.
As for Yukino—she lagged behind the other two by half a step.
She, of all people, was Senya's closest childhood friend.
And yet, when her eyes fell on him—and then on the girl beside him, cradling that festive bouquet—the expression on her face was colder, more distant than a stranger's.
…