After finishing his video call with Tōma Yōko, Minamoto Senya closed the dust cover of the electric piano and stepped back behind the bar counter.
Yōko's request was obvious—just like before. She couldn't stop worrying about leaving her daughter home alone.
She wanted someone to be with her. She didn't want the girl to sit by herself in an empty house, like a puppy abandoned on the roadside.
In exchange, Yōko offered him a professional environment to practice, a piano teacher who was practically born a prodigy, and access to a top-of-the-line Steinway.
That Steinway alone was worth as much as a small apartment. Even renting practice rooms with an instrument like that would cost at least ten thousand yen per hour.
And what did Senya have to give in return? Well, technically… nothing.
He wanted to improve his piano skills anyway. His growth formula—[effort + the goodwill of his study partner + proximity]—just happened to align perfectly with Yōko's wishes.
She probably thought this was a win-win arrangement. But in Senya's mind, he was clearly the one getting the better deal.
"Senya, if you've got somewhere to be, go ahead. Don't worry about me—I'll manage. Worst case, I'll just serve drinks and coffee today, no meals," his father said, polishing a glass.
The bar counter wasn't far from the piano, so he'd overheard the entire conversation. He didn't want the shop to become a burden on his son's progress.
But Senya only shook his head. He'd just hung up with Yōko. That kind of invitation was clearly a spur-of-the-moment decision—she'd need time to talk it over with her daughter first. There was no need to rush.
Besides, it was New Year's Eve. The shop would close around evening. He'd have plenty of time to leave after that.
By two in the afternoon, when business picked up, his older sister Toka arrived at the café.
She seemed to be in a good mood today, a faint smile resting on her lips the entire time.
Senya suspected it was thanks to the two thousand yen he'd given Rikka before leaving yesterday. It must have worked—Rikka had listened to her sister and behaved for once, sparing Toka unnecessary stress.
After changing out of her turtleneck in the backroom, she returned wearing her work uniform, and immediately, Senya noticed the choker around her neck—the same one he'd given her.
She wore it every day. She really must have liked it.
And with her graceful swanlike neck, the accessory looked like it had been made for her.
Senya decided he should get her a few more in the future.
By four o'clock, Toka put out the chalkboard at the entrance: "Closing at 6 p.m. tonight."
Their father mentioned the arrangement with Yōko, and so Toka hurried over to Senya's side, urging him to take care of his plans early. After all, they'd be having New Year's dinner together later.
Senya glanced outside. The sky was already dimming. He gave a small nod.
Leaving the café in their care, he changed clothes, pulled on a mask, and stepped outside.
A message had already arrived from Yōko.
First, a sticker of a hand making an OK gesture, followed by text:
["I've already talked to Kazusa. She's happy to teach you. You can come over anytime you like."]
Senya replied with a thank-you sticker.
But instead of heading straight to the Tōma household, he detoured to Kazusa's favorite patisserie and bought one of each signature cake.
Then he stopped at a doll shop—a specialty store he often visited.
The middle-aged shopkeeper greeted him warmly, "Oh, you're here. That limited edition plush you asked me to hold is ready. Want to take it now?"
"Thank you. How much is it?"
Senya paid with a smile, then left carrying armfuls of bags before heading to the Tōma residence.
He barely had to press the doorbell once before a familiar cool voice came through the intercom.
"…Who is it?"
"Sorry to intrude, Tōma-san. It's Minamoto Senya."
Click.
The gate opened.
Senya walked through the garden with practiced ease.
It had only been a few days since they'd last seen each other, but Kazusa Tōma's complexion looked noticeably better than before.
Her cheeks held a healthy flush—though maybe that was because she'd just stepped out of the bath.
The first thing he noticed was the damp ends of her hair and the faint fragrance of her body wash.
Unlike last time, she wasn't in loose pajamas but dressed in casual clothes she could wear outside: a loose-knit sweater and cropped jeans that showed the smooth white of her ankles.
It was as if she had expected a guest and prepared for it—washing up, changing into clothes she liked, all to look proper.
Senya bowed politely. "Thank you for having me, Tōma-san. I'll be relying on you."
Kazusa avoided his gaze, fingers twirling a strand of hair. "It's fine… Mom told me everything. You saved her life. Compared to that, this is nothing."
They entered the living room, where Senya offered the cakes.
Kazusa thanked him, though she didn't open the boxes right away.
Back at the entrance, when Senya had bent down to change his shoes, she'd stolen several glances at him, inspecting every detail.
Now, sitting side by side on the sofa, she found it harder to meet his eyes directly.
On the coffee table stood the bouquet Senya had given her on Christmas Eve, still fresh and vibrant.
Though, the water in the vase had grown cloudy.
Noticing his gaze, Kazusa explained, "The housekeeper changes it every day with rice water. That way the flowers last longer."
"Oh, that's clever. A neat trick."
"Mm."
"How's your health now? Does your stomach still hurt?"
"After drinking the porridge you made, I've been completely fine."
"That's good. Don't go binging ice cream like that again."
"…Mm."
"…"
Seriously? What kind of conversation ender was that?
She hadn't been this withdrawn when they went out together last time. Could it be that Kazusa was the type whose personality shifted with the situation, like she had multiple "systems"?
Wasn't that supposed to be a skill reserved for office workers?
Sensing the awkwardness, Kazusa quickly stood up. "Anyway, let's begin."
Her straightforwardness caught Senya off guard. "Eh? Right away?"
"Did you have something else in mind?"
"Well, not really…"
He'd just thought they could chat a little to ease into things. But if she was this decisive, he wasn't about to complain.
Honestly, he liked people like that.
Senya shook his head. "No, I'm fine."
"Then let's start."
Barely three minutes after arriving, he was already seated in the heart of the Tōma household: the piano room.
Kazusa spent at least eight hours a day here, and her presence had seeped into the room, mixing with the scent of fine wood. A faint sweetness lingered in the air.
She hurriedly closed a half-finished box of sweets on the piano.
Catching his glance, she blushed and stammered, "I… I get hungry while practicing. If I don't eat something sweet, I can't focus."
Well, if the piano prodigy said so, who was he to argue?
His look of agreement clearly pleased her. Kazusa wasn't the smiling type, but for a second, the corners of her lips almost lifted.
"Alright," she said, regaining her composure. "Mom said you want to improve your piano skills. I'll do my best to teach you, but honestly… in some areas, I can't compare to her. So don't expect too much."
Senya shook his head as he sat at the Steinway, worth half his family's entire café. "Don't be ridiculous. I have full confidence in Tōma-sensei's skills."
Her eyes widened. "Tōma… sensei?"
"You're teaching me. That makes you my teacher."
Kazusa fought to hide the rush of warmth in her chest, inhaling deeply. "…Call me whatever you want."
"Alright, Tōma-sensei. How should we start? I'll follow your lead."
(You could start by making me that porridge again…)
"Do you know how to read sheet music?"
"Of course."
"Then play this." She opened a worn beginner's book to a page and set it on the stand. Just like her mother, her words carried the same precise authority. "I need to hear where you're lacking."
It was Bach's Minuet in G major—not too long, not too difficult.
Just as Senya placed his hands on the keys, Kazusa interrupted, arms crossed. "You haven't adjusted the bench height."
"I think it's fine as is."
"No. You'll be sitting here for hours. Proper posture is essential."
She was already slipping into the role of a teacher, and oddly enough, it seemed to satisfy her.
Which suited Senya perfectly.
Even if she claimed she wasn't her mother's equal, she was still an excellent instructor. She pointed out the same issues Yōko had mentioned, but with the advantage of being there to correct him in real time, demonstrating the proper fingerings.
"…Your hands are too low. That weakens your force. Raise your wrists like this—see? It lets your fingers press with more strength. Difficult at first, but once it becomes habit, it'll help you in advanced pieces."
She demonstrated fluidly, her hands gliding over the keys.
When she looked up, Senya was leaning close, watching her intently.
"Your hands move like butterflies… beautiful." His voice carried no hint of flattery—just pure admiration.
"…!"
"Tōma-sensei?"
"S-such nonsense!" she sputtered, jumping back, hiding her hands behind her.
She had never once thought her hands—larger than most girls'—were beautiful.
"I meant it. No one's ever told you that before?"
"J-just practice already! Do it the way I showed you!"
Geez. Can't even accept a compliment gracefully. A second Eriri…
Senya obediently returned to the bench, adjusting his playing as instructed.
Kazusa, standing beside him, hid her flushed face, her cheeks burning red as she watched.
Time flew. Two hours passed, and before either realized, it was nearly eight.
When Senya finally said he should head home, Kazusa blinked in surprise. Had it really been that long?
It felt like he'd only just rung the doorbell. Had someone pressed fast-forward on time itself?
After days apart, she didn't want their reunion to end so quickly. This was her only real friend—the one person she wanted to spend more time with.
"…Mom said you don't have a piano at home. So… whenever you need to practice, you can come here. She's already given her approval."
At the entryway, she glanced sideways at him as she spoke, her toes fidgeting against the floor.
Senya nodded. "Thanks. Oh, by the way—aren't you coming out?"
"Coming out?"
"Didn't Yōko-san tell you? You're invited to dinner at my place tonight. It's New Year's Eve. I'll bring you back afterward."
By instinct, Senya wanted to say she could even stay the night—it wasn't unusual to house guests on New Year's. But their home didn't have spare rooms, and offering his own bed to a girl would've been… inappropriate.
Besides, he'd invited another girl who would've otherwise spent the evening alone.
Still…
Kazusa froze. His words seemed to stop her heart entirely.
"Tōma-sensei?" Senya waved a hand in front of her face.
After a moment, her eyes refocused, her heartbeat pounding in her chest. "You're… inviting me to your house?"
Senya smiled. "Of course. If you'll honor us."
"It won't be a bother? At this hour?"
"It's New Year's Eve. Everyone eats late tonight."
"…Then… can you wait a little?"
"Of course."
Thump thump thump.
Kazusa turned and walked quickly toward her room. Once she was out of sight, her walk turned into a run, fists clenched, hair flying behind her.