The Sawamura Household
Because both daughter and husband had been working and studying from home lately, mornings at the Sawamura residence had become more relaxed. Breakfast time was no longer a rushed affair before everyone hurried out the door—it had shifted later into the morning.
Mrs. Sawamura, despite being a wife and mother, still held on to a few remnants of her girlish habits—like staying in bed too long.
It was well past eight when the three of them finally gathered around the dining table.
Mrs. Sawamura had a naturally bubbly personality. She reined it in a little when outside, but at home, with just family, it came out unfiltered.
Listening to her mom animatedly chatter with her dad about the latest BL anime she'd gotten hooked on, Eriri swallowed down a bite of bread and yawned lazily.
If she were honest, the reason she was so invested in ACG culture—and eventually became a doujinshi artist—was because of these two. Their influence had been enormous ever since she was a kid.
Not that she minded. She liked who she was now. Whether it was supporting the childhood-friend characters in anime and games, or even drawing risqué doujinshi with corruption themes, it was all undeniably part of her.
It's just… lately, in certain areas, she'd started to feel like she couldn't quite keep up.
Ever since middle school began, so many things had changed—some for the better, like meeting Saeko-senpai. But other changes… she wasn't so fond of.
"Eriri, what's wrong? Still half-asleep?"
Seeing her daughter's sluggish face, Mrs. Sawamura poured her a glass of milk and handed it over.
"Or is it that breakfast isn't to your taste? Bear with it, okay? I'll make something you like for lunch."
"It's not the food, Mom."
Mrs. Sawamura watched her for a moment, then exchanged a shrug with her husband.
A girl's heart at this age was as unpredictable as drifting fluff in the wind. Sometimes, even parents couldn't guess what she was thinking.
If she didn't want to talk and they couldn't figure it out, then there was no point forcing it.
Mr. Sawamura cleared his throat. "Oh, by the way, Eriri. I stopped by your Uncle Minamoto's shop the other day, and I mentioned inviting their family over for a meal. If I'm not mistaken, Senya should be back home today, right? If you have time, why don't you ask them when they'd be free?"
At that, the morning gloom clouding Eriri's face lifted a little, her interest piqued. "Senya came back yesterday. But he just got home, shouldn't we let him rest a bit? Wouldn't it be too soon to bother him now?"
Mrs. Sawamura sighed in exasperation. "What do you mean, too soon? Why are you overthinking this at your age? He's been stuck in isolation for two whole weeks! Don't you think he's rested enough already? If it were me, the very first thing I'd want to do once I was free would be to go out and enjoy myself."
Her mom had a point. Eriri nodded reluctantly. "I guess that… kind of makes sense."
Mr. Sawamura chuckled. "Maintaining relationships is a lesson you'll need to master, Eriri. Sometimes achieving a goal isn't about taking the most direct path—looking at it from another angle can lead to surprising rewards."
Eriri stared at him blankly. "Dad. Please speak human."
His head drooped in defeat, then he looked back up with a wry smile. "What I mean is, this time I'll host, and next time your Uncle Minamoto will return the favor. Little by little, our families will become closer."
Eriri blinked, as if a realization had just dawned on her.
Mrs. Sawamura chimed in, "Oh, and your grandmother sent over some dried persimmons she made. Take them along when you visit. You've been cooped up at home all this time anyway—go get some fresh air."
Her parents had everything planned out for her already. What else could she say?
"Okay! I'll go change now—and I'll call Yukino to come too!"
Stuffing the rest of her bread into her mouth so her cheeks puffed out, she washed it down with gulps of milk, pounding her chest halfway through to help it go down.
"Bang!"
Her glass hit the table with a thud, and she scampered back to her room with an excited bounce in her step.
Her parents were left at the table, watching her retreating figure with complicated expressions.
That last part… was completely unnecessary.
Should they say she was just too kind and guileless, or simply too straightforward for her own good?
Mrs. Sawamura sighed quietly, then gave her husband a knowing look. "Honestly, I always thought you'd be the one most worried about a situation like this happening. And yet here you are, not only inviting the Minamotos over, but being so supportive about it. Don't tell me this is only because Senya helped you make money on stocks?"
Under his wife's scrutinizing, suspicious gaze, Mr. Sawamura coughed awkwardly. He knew he couldn't bluff his way out, so he confessed. "Well… actually, that's exactly why. Thinking back now, when Senya gave me that advice, it was like he knew my stocks were about to crash. That's what convinced me to change my whole strategy."
Mrs. Sawamura laughed. "Are you saying Senya can tell the future?"
She was joking—but he nodded seriously. A diplomat by profession, his instincts were sharp. "Honestly, it felt like that. That boy isn't ordinary. With what he's already accomplished, he's destined for great things. So making sure Eriri keeps a good relationship with him is definitely the right move."
"…Honestly. Stop using politician logic on your own daughter."
"Ahaha, sorry… But isn't the intention what matters?"
The Yukinoshita Household
It was past nine. The sun was bright, warming the Yukinoshita garden.
Mr. Yukinoshita was out, so Mrs. Yukinoshita and her two daughters set up a small tea table outside, enjoying both sunlight and tea.
Their mother asked about their studies, the three of them chatting in a relaxed, peaceful way.
That was one of the upsides of remote learning.
Yukino and Haruno didn't have to rush to school every day—they could stay home. Rationally, their mother knew this was an unavoidable response to the times, and that it wasn't ideal for children's development, especially when it came to social skills and cooperation.
But emotionally… she found it wonderful.
Her daughters had grown up so fast. It had been years since she'd spent this much time with them. Even her husband seemed more energized lately, coming home each night to see the girls.
Yes… this was nice.
The warm sunlight made Mrs. Yukinoshita's eyes drift half-shut. She even found herself daydreaming of many years from now—when Yukino and Haruno were independent, when she was retired, when she'd be looking after grandchildren in a garden just like this…
It was an image that filled her with anticipation.
But the moment she thought of Yukino, Minamoto Senya's face surfaced in her mind.
Heh…
Haruno noticed her mother's odd smile and tilted her head. "Mom, what are you thinking about? You look way too happy."
"Hmm… that's a secret." Even someone as composed as Mrs. Yukinoshita had her playful moments around family.
At that moment, Yukino's phone buzzed.
Closing the book in her hands, she picked it up. Seeing that it was Eriri, she didn't bother to hide it from her mother and sister, answering openly.
Her casualness killed Haruno's curiosity—after all, Haruno was the kind of person who only enjoyed eavesdropping if she wasn't supposed to.
After a brief exchange, Yukino ended the call.
Placing her book on the table, she said softly, "Mom, Eriri's coming to pick me up later."
"Oh? Will she be eating here?"
"No. Her mother's driving her to Senya's place, and she said she'd bring me along."
"Eh~ So little Senya's finally home from quarantine." Haruno perked up. "Then take me too!"
Yukino didn't respond, but her mother spoke first, sounding resigned. "And why do you need to tag along?"
"Because I've been stuck at home forever, and I want some air too! Besides, it's on the way—I can stop by Toka's place while I'm at it."
Mrs. Yukinoshita thought for a moment. Her daughters really had been cooped up for weeks. She nodded.
Haruno hugged her arm and pouted playfully, delighted.
Yukino, meanwhile, quietly began clearing away the cups and snack trays.
Her mother mused aloud, "With the flu outbreak, so many shops are struggling. If I remember right, Senya's parents run a beauty business and a bar, don't they? Their family must be having a rough time."
Haruno nodded. "Yeah. Toka told me her dad used to work the bar until one or two in the morning, but lately he's been closing early. People are avoiding crowds now."
She paused, then blinked. "Wait. Yukino, didn't you warn us ages ago to wear masks when going out?"
Yukino tilted her head slightly. "Yes. Senya mentioned it very seriously, before winter break last year. So I reminded you and Mom."
"…But back then, there wasn't even a hint of this flu in Japan. Why would he bring that up?"
"I don't really know," Yukino admitted.
A pebble Senya had tossed long ago finally hit the water, sending ripples outward.
Listening silently, Mrs. Yukinoshita's face gradually softened.
Half-joking, she said, "Well, the only explanation is that Senya was so concerned about you studying abroad that he immediately warned you of anything happening overseas."
She looked at her elder daughter as she said it.
Haruno played along perfectly, widening her eyes in mock revelation.
The two of them shared a knowing glance and a subtle nod.
"…I'll go change," Yukino muttered, eyes cast downward, escaping the garden.
Her mother's gaze returned to calm warmth. "Don't tease her about this outside, Haruno."
"I know, I know." Haruno picked up the teacups. "I'll go get ready too."
"Bring something with you. Your father bought some high-grade roasted tea. Take a couple of boxes to give to them."
"…You mean the stash he begged his friends to get, the one he doesn't even want to open?"
"Yes. It's fine."
"Got it."
Poor Dad. But for the sake of the family's future, sacrifices had to be made.
After dropping the dishes off in the kitchen, Haruno swiftly changed clothes and then waltzed right into her sister's room without knocking.
As expected, Yukino shot her a frosty glare. "How many times do I have to tell you—knock first."
Haruno pressed her palms together apologetically, promising she'd remember next time.
Just another routine sisterly exchange.
Yukino sighed. Her sister could be so capable in every way, and yet so childish at the strangest times.
Ignoring her, she turned back to her wardrobe, picking out clothes.
"That dress looks nice. Today's not too cold, and it'll really suit your pale skin. Tie a belt at the waist and it'll flatter your figure too—bring out the contrast in all the right ways."
"…!"
Yukino could tolerate her sister barging in. But when it came to comments on her figure—that was unacceptable.
Her glare was sharp as a blade, but Haruno only smiled serenely, utterly unfazed.
They'd lived together long enough for her to know exactly how to defuse Yukino's irritation—by changing the subject.
"You realize what Mom meant when she brought up the Minamoto family's finances, right?"
Sure enough, Yukino's anger dissipated in an instant.
Her face was still expressionless, but calmer. "What are you getting at?"
"I think Mom was hinting that, if you'd spoken up, she would've been willing to extend help. Just like… when she once begged Grandpa to help Dad."
Haruno even used their parents' past as an example to drive the point home.
Yukino turned her back, continuing to pick clothes, as though hiding her expression. "There's no need to worry. Senya's situation isn't comparable to Dad's back then. And their family isn't anywhere near needing outside help."
Notably, she didn't reject the comparison itself.
Haruno leaned back on the bed. "Maybe. But when you notice something, sometimes the right thing is to show a little concern. Just like he once did for you. Don't you think?"
"…If the Minamotos ever do need help, it won't be something I can offer right now."
"Back then, wasn't our mother about your age when she stepped into father's household? If you're willing, there's always a way to make it work. The difference is only whether or not you choose to."
Yukino couldn't answer. She just kept flipping through the neat rows of pretty clothes in her wardrobe, as though the rustle of fabric could drown out her sister's words.
Seeing this, Haruno didn't push any further. With a light "heave-ho," she got to her feet and left the room.
Out in the hallway, the elder sister let out a long sigh.
She really was worried for her slow and hesitant younger sister, desperate to find some way to guide her. But no matter what she said, the results were never satisfying.
It was probably her methods that were the problem. But what could she do? That was simply Yukino's personality.
Gentle, warm conversations? That wasn't her style. If anything, such softness might scare Yukino even more.
So in the end… perhaps it really was best to leave things to their own course.
Ugh… what a mess, what a mess.
Not long after, Mrs. Sawamura pulled up in her car, with Eriri in the passenger seat, to pick up the Yukinoshita sisters.
With Mrs. Yukinoshita's polite farewells and her gaze following them down the driveway, they set off. By ten o'clock, they had arrived at the Minamoto residence.
"Eh? You're here to see Senya?"
The one who opened the door was Toka. After struggling to peel off Haruno's overenthusiastic hug, she wore an apologetic smile. "But Senya and Rikka already went to Saeko's place to hang out."
Yukino turned her head toward Eriri, unimpressed. "You didn't contact him before we left?"
"I did!" Eriri blurted, fumbling to pull out her phone.
Sure enough, at around nine she had sent Senya a message. But the glowing characters beneath it read "Unread."
Yukino pinched the bridge of her nose, exhausted. "At least call him. A one-sided notice isn't communication. And you didn't even manage to notify him at all."
"Why don't you come inside first?" Toka said, stepping aside. "I'll call him and ask when he'll be back."
Still clinging to her best friend's arm, Haruno offered a different idea. "Or you could just go straight there. This Saeko girl's a friend of yours too, isn't she?"
Yukino handed over a bottle of high-end sake—one their father usually hoarded rather than opened—as a house gift, then pulled out her own phone. "I'll call him first."
At the Busujima residence.
In the family's training hall.
After several rounds of sparring, Busujima Saeko and Minamoto Senya were now sitting cross-legged at the edge of the polished wooden floor, catching their breath.
Together, they watched Rikka, wearing one of Saeko's old practice uniforms, brandishing a bamboo sword with great drama in the center of the hall. Her shouts echoed proudly, her stance brimming with vigor.
But in truth… her movements were sloppy. If she stepped onto an actual tournament floor, she'd be scored against in seconds—three, if she was lucky.
Still, it made her happy. And if playing at being a swordswoman brought a smile to her face, why not indulge her?
With only the two of them seated for the moment, Senya finally voiced the question he hadn't been able to ask earlier, back when Toka and Rikka had been present.
"Saeko-senpai, are you hiding something from me?"
Not suspicion—certainty.
He hadn't used the word "lied." That felt wrong. After all this time together, his trust in Saeko was absolute. He couldn't imagine her doing anything that would harm him.
Saeko's brows knit in surprise, her expression genuinely taken aback. "Senya-kun… what makes you say that so suddenly?"
He shrugged. "When you mentioned earlier that Nishiyamado wants to sign us for an endorsement contract, you said 'us.' But the thing is, I've received no message, no approach, nothing. If they were really sincere, they wouldn't only contact you while ignoring me. For a major company, that seems far too careless."
Which meant the truth had to be something else.
Maybe things were as she'd explained: win the upcoming Yulong Banner national kendo tournament, and they'd be guaranteed a lucrative contract.
But Senya suspected there was more beneath the surface.
Saeko met his gaze for a long moment before her eyes faltered. She turned her head aside, her shoulders dipping, her sight darting anywhere but his face.
It was strange—this Busujima Saeko, who could beat two grown men half to death without breaking a sweat, now looked like a child caught in wrongdoing, bracing for scolding.
Senya hadn't even raised his voice. He only wanted to know the truth.
"Senpai, I didn't mean anything harsh. I just… want to understand."
And then—
Riiing.
His phone vibrated. The sound made Saeko exhale in relief, as if rescued.
"I'll get it for you," she said quickly, rising to fetch the device from where his jacket hung.
She returned, offering it with both hands. The oddly formal gesture only made Senya's sense of wrongness grow stronger.
He accepted it, tamping down his unease. The caller ID read: Yukino.
A short conversation later, he pulled the phone from his ear and covered the mic. "It's Yukino and Eriri. They're on their way."
Saeko brightened instantly. "Then invite them straight here. I've wanted to have everyone over for some time."
Senya nodded, relaying the invitation before hanging up.
As Saeko moved to stand, he gently pressed his hand against hers, halting her.
She froze at the light touch.
Senya's tone was calm, but steady. "Just like in kendo—if all you do is avoid, you'll never score a single point."
Under his persistent questioning, Saeko finally gave in.
Her voice low and uncertain, she confessed the truth.
Nishiyamado really was searching for two endorsement figures—one male, one female.
For the female slot, she was their first choice.
It made sense. She'd shone since childhood, a recognized name in the kendo world, daughter of a renowned Busujima patriarch, with a spotless record and elegant looks. She embodied everything they wanted.
But for the male slot, it wasn't as she'd implied. They hadn't chosen Senya at all.
They were seeking someone with years of dedication, countless accolades, a boy whose passion for kendo was undeniable.
"Ah, I see!" Rikka had abandoned her wild swings and now squatted down beside them, eyes sparkling. "So that's why Saeko-neesan recommended Senya!"
This little fool—clueless about most things, but always showing up whenever snacks, games, or juicy secrets were involved.
Senya ruffled her hair, signaling her to hush.
His record—aside from his age and gender—didn't align with Nishiyamado's requirements in the slightest.
Saeko explained further. She could have signed immediately. But instead, she'd placed a condition: she recommended Senya.
Of course, simply suggesting him wasn't enough. So she had staked her own name on it.
If Senya could win the men's division at the Yulong Banner tournament, his honor and exposure would be undeniable. Nishiyamado would have no reason to refuse.
If not… she had sworn, on the Busujima name, to withdraw from selecting the male partner—and to sign her own endorsement with them free of charge.
"Wha—wait, isn't that a huge loss?!" Rikka yelped, horrified. "If Senya doesn't win, you're basically working for free!"
But Saeko only smiled, radiant with certainty. "He won't lose. I believe in him."
Senya was struck speechless.
That smile—more confident in him than in herself—made any protest he'd considered vanish.
She understood what he wanted, the goals he was racing toward. And she had chosen to gamble her own future on him.
Senya drew in a long breath. Pressing down Rikka's head with one hand, he straightened his posture. Then, in unison, the siblings bowed deeply.
"Saeko… thank you. I'll remember this."
Her heart leapt—not because of his gratitude, but because he'd spoken her name plainly, without honorifics.
"No need to thank me, Senya. Just don't blame me for acting on my own."
"How could I? You've done more than I could ever ask."
"Then let's both do our best."
"Yeah."
Later, when Yukino and Eriri arrived, they too learned the situation.
"The Yulong Banner?" Yukino frowned. "Isn't that a high school tournament? Middle schoolers aren't eligible."
Saeko shook her head. "The rules changed this year. It's the first time junior high students can enter."
Eriri's eyes widened in alarm. "Wait—then doesn't that mean you and Senya will be facing opponents much older than you?!"
Saeko remained unfazed. "Yes. But in a way, that's to our advantage."
Senya agreed, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Last time, the competition was barely satisfying. This time, we can finally go all out."
Their eyes met, both of them sharing the same spark.
The Yulong Banner—one of the most prestigious, most fiercely contested kendo tournaments in Japan.
Yet in their mouths, it sounded as light as a class trip.