They stepped out of the ramen shop into the 7 p.m. twilight. Though it was mid-May, the evening air still carried a chill.
Fujiwara Chika, who had been perfectly comfortable inside wearing just her tank top, shivered as the cold breeze hit her.
"Brr, it's cold!" She wrapped her arms around herself.
Masao knew what a gentleman should do.
"Here, Fujiwara-senpai, you can wear my—" He stopped mid-sentence, realizing he only wore a single shirt himself.
Chika had also noticed the same wardrobe limitation. An awkward silence descended between them.
"Um... do you still want it?" he offered weakly.
"No, thank you," Chika mumbled, the words tumbling out in a rush as she stared at the pavement.
The brief exchange was so awkward that Masao felt he'd mentally acquired a fully-furnished three-bedroom apartment from the sheer force of his embarrassment.
Despite the social discomfort, they couldn't just stand there freezing. Since he couldn't offer his shirt, Masao settled for the next best thing—positioning himself upwind to shield her from the breeze.
The tactic worked remarkably well. Chika could barely feel the wind now. While the air remained cool, it was far more bearable.
'Masao-kouhai might not be conventionally handsome, but he gives off a strangely reassuring and dependable energy. Even if he isn't handsome.'
The thought drifted unbidden through Chika's mind.
(Masao: Noting "not handsome" twice was unnecessary.)
As they walked, Chika found the quiet oppressive.
"Masao-kouhai, don't be so quiet. Let's talk about something."
"What should we talk about?"
"Anything is fine!"
"Alright then. Well... what's your dream?"
"Starting with profound questions right from the start? I see you're not very skilled at casual conversation, Masao-kouhai."
"You're the one who said 'anything'! It was so sudden my mind went blank!"
"Fine, fine, we'll go with that. It seems like a topic with potential." Chika decided not to be difficult and ran with it. "My dream is actually to become Prime Minister."
For most people, this would be a fantasy. But for Fujiwara Chika, it represented a genuine career path. Her family wielded significant political influence—they'd produced a former Prime Minister, providing the perfect pedigree.
Combined with her own capabilities and popularity, Fujiwara Chika could realistically win a popular vote based on approval ratings alone.
"Prime Minister... That's incredible. You're so outstanding, Fujiwara-senpai, I'm sure you'll succeed," Masao remarked with genuine respect.
Hearing Chika's political aspirations suddenly triggered memories of his past life.
As a child then—whether ambitious or just naive—his own dreams had been similarly grand. He'd decided the UN Secretary General sounded impressive and chose that as his ambition. But by the time he understood his limitations, his aspirations had evolved elsewhere.
The memory brought a wry, slightly bitter smile to his lips.
Since Masao walked ahead of her, Chika missed his expression.
"So what's your dream, Masao-kouhai? Tell me," she asked curiously.
Masao collected himself.
His ordinary previous life had faded from memory in many ways, though certain regrets remained. But in this life, blessed with the System, he was determined to live with purpose and color.
Hearing her question, an idea sparked.
"Actually, I have an idol—someone I want to emulate. Care to guess who, Fujiwara-senpai?"
"Hmm, this is tricky... Let me think..." Chika placed her index finger against her temple, rotating it in the universal gesture of intense concentration. Remembering his earlier praise, she ventured with uncertainty, "Could it be... that I'm your idol? You want to follow in my footsteps and become Prime Minister too?"
Masao turned, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
"As expected of Fujiwara-senpai! You've connected it to the correct answer. You're getting very warm!"
"Alright, Masao-kouhai, stop with the suspense. Just tell me!" Chika had exhausted her patience for guessing games.
Under her expectant gaze, a mischievous grin spread across Masao's face as he said a devastating name:
"Yamagami Tetsuya."
Chika's expression cycled through emotions like a slot machine: expectation -> confusion -> shock -> terror -> flight response...
She immediately turned to leave, as if executing a strategic retreat.
"Wait, Fujiwara-senpai! Let's continue our discussion about dreams!" Masao caught her wrist before she could take a second step.
Hearing what sounded like demonic whispers in her ear, Chika shook her head frantically.
"Let me go! Nooo!"
Seeing her genuine panic, Masao quickly relented.
"Okay, okay, Fujiwara-senpai, I was just joking!"
If this continued any longer, he'd be reported as a public nuisance. Besides, he couldn't be sure whether Chika had an undercover security detail watching from the shadows.
True to form, his reassurance stopped her struggles. She peered back at him cautiously.
"Really?"
"It's true."
The realization that she'd been tricked ignited her temper. Her cheeks puffed out as she pummeled his chest with ineffectual fists.
"Masao-kouhai, you're horrible! How could you tease me like that? You're not cute at all!"
Though her punches lacked any force, Masao played along with the surrender.
"Alright, I was wrong. It was just a joke—I didn't realize you'd be so easy to tease."
Seeing his contrition, Chika withdrew her fists, crossing her arms in a huff.
"That's not something you joke about! Do you have any idea how much psychological damage that name could inflict?"
That man's name carried terrifying weight in certain circles.
For every Japanese Prime Minister and aspiring statesman, he represented the ultimate nightmare. When the incident first occurred, Chika had been too frightened to leave home for days. She still steered clear with anyone sharing that surname.
She fixed Masao with a stern glare.
"Masao-kouhai, you are forbidden from ever saying that name in my presence again, or else... or else I'll ignore you!"
"Understood. Then when I'm with you, I'll refer to him as 'You-Know-Who' or 'That Guy'."
"That's even worse!"
Their laughter and bickering soon drowned out the chill night air, filling the street with warmth despite the cool breeze.
—
Meanwhile, in Chiba...
Yukinoshita Yukino stretched at her desk after long hours of studying.
Her gaze drifted toward the window. Having spent the day alone, she found herself anticipating tomorrow's tutoring session at Masao's home—a faint, unacknowledged flutter of expectation stirring in her chest.
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