Prologue: But Yuki was still a child.

She was in pain.

“…! Cough!”

The moment Yuki awoke in bed, a deep cough tore from the depths of her chest. She continued coughing several more times, each hacking breath scorching her throat as throbbing aches shot through the back of her head.

She instinctively curled up, trying to endure the pain, but even the slightest movement triggered aches in every joint. Even when she finally managed to fight through the agony and turn onto her side, her shoulder and arm protested once trapped beneath her body, driving her to roll back onto her spine. But then she felt as if her lungs were being pressed down on by an unbearable weight.

I know…this feeling…

Memories from the past resurfaced in her mind, which was still hazy with fever.

They were memories of her lying helplessly in bed, trapped in unending pain. It felt like drifting through a water-worn cave without a map—a feeling of confinement and despair. She never knew when the flood would rise again and steal her breath, but the fear of its return never left her. And no matter how hard she fought or how loudly she cried, she could never escape.

How far would she have to go to be freed from this hellscape? Did an exit even exist? Whenever she pictured a future like this, panic crept in, threatening to unravel her mind.

I need…to calm down…and get my breathing…under control…

She shut her eyes and drew in slow, steady breaths, but each time she inhaled, she could feel the blood slowly drain from her fingertips. She was cold. Alone. She longed for someone—anyone—to hold her hand, but solitude seemed to stretch endlessly around her.

Why…? Ayano? Mom? Natsu, at least, should be here…

Surely they had only stepped out for a moment. Her smartphone was beside her, and if she used it, someone in the family would certainly come rushing in within seconds…but she did not.

It wasn’t the fever clouding her judgment. It was the fact that she could not fathom why no one was already there by her side when she was suffering so much. How could they just leave her alone like this? She despised every last one of them, and she wanted them to see her in this terrible state, crying and broken. She wanted them to panic and drown in guilt.

It was spiteful immaturity, but she was furious, resentful, scared, in pain, and lonely.

“Mn… Ngh!”

She sobbed like a small child, ignoring the pain in her throat. This caused her breathing to become erratic, and with her brain deprived of oxygen, her mind grew even hazier.

“Hff! Hffk! Uuu…”

Soon, Yuki’s thoughts began to lose focus, drifting aimlessly, until she no longer knew why she was crying. Was she crying because she was sad, or was she sad because she was crying? The anger was gone. All that remained was the chilling loneliness and a crushing anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her. How long would this suffering continue? When could she finally go outside? What if she stayed like this forever? The thought terrified her. She didn’t want to be there. She wanted to play with her brother. To tease Ayano. It hurt. She was lonely. She was scared. Utterly, overwhelmingly scared.

“Ahhhmn!! Ngh…! Guh…aaahhh!”

Just then, the door clicked open, and two familiar voices drifted in.

“Lady Yuki?! What’s the matter?!”

“Lady Yuki…!”

It was Natsu Kimishima, a maid of the Suou family, and her granddaughter Ayano, who served as Yuki’s attendant.

“Are you in pain? Did you have a nightmare?”

Natsu rushed over to the bed, barely taking time to set down the tray she was holding. She grabbed Yuki’s hand, worry etched across her face, and reached to touch the sick girl’s cheek…only for Yuki to shake her head and turn away, rejecting the woman’s touch.

“What’s wrong?! Do you need me to bring you something?!”

Ayano spoke in an unusually panicked voice, but Yuki ignored her as well and just continued to weep. She didn’t know why. If asked what hurt, she’d say everything, but that wasn’t why she was sobbing. And yet, Yuki herself still didn’t know the reason for her tears. Not knowing made it even worse, and all she could do was cry as if she were trying to push the whole world away.

“Ayano! Call the doctor!”

“…! Okay!”

“You’re going to be all right, Lady Yuki. The doctor will be here shortly.”

Natsu was saying something, but the words were already slipping past Yuki, fading into nothing but noise.

“Hff! Mn… Brother…”

Natsu froze at the words that slipped out between Yuki’s sobs.

“I want…my brother… Waaah!”

Was it really a cry for her brother’s help—or just a cruel way to burden Natsu with something she could never fix?

“Ah! Kuh…! Ngh… Brother…”

Yuki kept crying, not knowing the answer.

Chapter 1. And then, it all came down to thighs.

The park’s cold night air stirred with Masachika’s voice.

“In the end…I couldn’t do anything for Yuki.”

He had failed to make her happy, to give her freedom, to always be a big brother she could rely on. And yet, unlike her pathetic and inadequate brother, this little sister, who had once been so small and fragile, had grown into someone so big and strong.

“I abandoned her. I ran away from my responsibility as her brother.”

He couldn’t bear it. His sister was too radiant—too bright—to look at.

“But even then…she was still nice to her pitiful older sibling.”

Yuki always charged straight up to her brother, even as he looked away. As his silly, nerdy little sister, she swept his guilt aside as if it were a joke.

“She would always cling to me like a little animal, always expressing how much she loved me through both her words and actions, as if it were never enough…”

To an outsider, it might’ve looked like Yuki was just being spoiled by Masachika, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“I—I…! I took advantage of that kindness of hers!”

It was in fact the other way around. It was Masachika who was being spoiled by Yuki all along. She saved him. Only when he was indulging his little sister could he forget his guilt. Only when he was humoring her selfishness did he feel like an amazing and dependable big brother again.

However…deep down, he had always felt it—the cold gaze of his former self, the Masachika Suou from before he had lost his way, watching him with disapproval. He could clearly hear the higher-pitched voice of his younger self as he asked, “How can you smile like that after ruining your sister’s life?”

He pretended not to notice the voice and smiled, but he despised that part of himself.

“I realized I had sacrificed my little sister Yuki’s freedom for my own sake, yet I’ve refused to face that fact while squandering my days as the pathetic, self-absorbed failure that I’ve become. That’s who I am… That’s Masachika Kuze in his entirety.”

No matter what excuses he told himself, the truth remained the same. In the moment his sister had needed him most…he couldn’t move. He said he loved her more than anyone. Said she was the most important person in his life. But in the end, the only one he truly cared about was himself. How arrogant—to speak of love and importance with such empty weight.

Oh… It all makes sense now…

Suddenly, Masachika understood why he couldn’t return Maria’s feelings. It wasn’t about confidence, or the fleeting nature of love, or even his parents’ divorce…all of which he now understood was merely an excuse. After all, he already knew the bond they shared was unbreakable. In other words, the real reason lied elsewhere entirely…

I just…

He simply couldn’t believe the strength of his own feelings.

He told a girl he liked her, yet he failed to recognize her as his first love when they were reunited. He said his sister was important, yet selfishly abandoned her.

He had realized how shallow and fragile his feelings and love were compared to theirs. Filled with disappointment and self-loathing, Masachika buried his face in his hands, trying to squeeze out the emotions that swelled in his aching chest.

“I have nothing… I have absolutely nothing to be proud of… I’m a worthless scumbag…”

He even felt disgusted with himself for acting so pathetically. Simply trying to repent felt arrogant as well. There was nowhere for him to seek forgiveness or comfort.

“I made a mistake.”

A low voice, saturated with darkness, spilled from him.

“It was all just one big mistake…from the very beginning.”

The day he walked out of the Suou household, leaving his sister behind, was the moment he veered off course; even now, he was still lost on that same misguided path, none the wiser.

“Masachika Kuze was a mistake.”

“I realized I had sacrificed my little sister Yuki’s freedom for my own sake, yet I’ve refused to face that fact while squandering my days as the pathetic, self-absorbed failure that I’ve become. That’s who I am… That’s Masachika Kuze in his entirety.”

In a daze, Alisa listened as this confession, steeped in self-loathing and regret, poured out of the boy across from her as he hung his head like a sinner awaiting judgement. It was a confession that had started with the stunning truth that Yuki was actually his sister, and it was honestly…far too much for Alisa to process right now, but some things were finally starting to click.

Oh…

Masachika’s smile always bore a hint of a shadow, even in moments of success. He shied away from praise, seemed to resent recognition, and quietly avoided the spotlight. And now Alisa fully understood why. Beneath it all was a deep-rooted self-denial, and a belief that his current self only existed at the expense of his sister’s sacrifice.

“I have nothing… I have absolutely nothing to be proud of… I’m a worthless scumbag…”

It was impossible not to wonder what that must have felt like. Alisa, too, understood the pain of being unable to defend her own way of life, the ache of not knowing if it was truly right, yet being unable to live any other way.

Nevertheless, Alisa couldn’t even fathom how it would feel to outright reject her own way of life, and so she had no words to comfort him. All she had was sorrow.

“It was all just one big mistake…from the very beginning.”

Watching the boy drown in self-torment was heartbreaking. Alisa was frustrated by her own helplessness, unable to say or do anything to help him. However…

“Masachika Kuze was a mistake.”

Something inside her chest burst the instant she heard those words.

“…A mistake?” The words fell from her lips before she even realized it. “Do you really mean that? That everything was one big mistake?”

Her voice trembled as the words and tears spilled out. Without bothering to wipe the streams of sorrow cascading down her face, Alisa fixed Masachika with a piercing glare and seized his shoulders. And as he raised his chin, she cried out:

“You—! You met me, didn’t you?!”

Through blurred vision, she saw his eyes widen suddenly. Their gazes now undoubtedly met—though his had been off in a dark place—and that alone made Alisa’s heart flutter with joy.

Even if Masachika had stayed with the Suou family, they might still have met one another. But if the Masachika she met that day in class had been the polished, perfect gentleman he’d intended to become…then surely, she would never have been so drawn to him.

The one she had fallen for and truly loved was the Masachika Kuze right in front of her. He was far from perfect, and full of flaws she could list ad nauseam, yet now she adored everything about him, including those faults. Therefore, she absolutely could not allow that person to be called a mistake.

“You said earlier that you were grateful that we met. Was that—?! Was that…all just a lie…?” she muttered. Her head was lowered and she was still gripping his shoulders.

Her tears continued to rain upon the ground, and it dawned on her that she must look like a total mess. This wasn’t what she had intended. All she’d wanted to do was comfort him, but instead, she had spoken selfishly and emotionally, almost as if blaming him.

I’m… I’m a terrible person for doing this…

Once the storm of emotion had passed, regret settled in. She felt pathetic, crushed beyond words as she sank to the ground, curling inward as her tears silently fell. But immediately, a hand was gently placed on her shoulder.

“Thanks, Alya.”

Alisa lifted her head, taken aback by his gratitude. Their eyes met again. There was still pain in his eyes, but they narrowed as he smiled faintly. He chose his next words carefully, concerned about the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You’re right. Meeting you…and becoming partners—all of that happened because of the mistake I made.”

Masachika closed his eyes, as if facing his inner self, then slowly nodded before opening them once more.

“Yeah, now that I think about it, it wasn’t all a mistake. I really feel that way now,” he exclaimed with sincerity, then lowered his head.

“And I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I mean…”

He lifted his head again and looked Alisa straight in the eyes.

“Meeting you was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I mean it.”

Those words made Alisa’s heart pound wildly. The sadness and regret that had weighed her down only moments ago melted away and were replaced by joy and affection…yet she felt too shy to show those feelings openly.

“<…Me too.>”

She murmured softly with her head down and her lips pressed against one knee. But before Masachika could even ask what it was she had said, she wiped away her tears, stood up, and extended a hand to her partner, who was still sitting on the bench.

“Come on.”

“Huh?”

She stared straight into his bewildered gaze and simply replied:

“We’re going to see Yuki…so you can move past your regret.”

Fear flickered in Masachika’s eyes and his expression stiffened…but before he could look away again, she firmly declared:

“I’ll be there for you. It’s my turn to be right by your side and support you…so don’t say a word and just take my hand!”

Masachika’s shoulders twitched, but his eyes met Alisa’s once more. His distress melted away as he placed his hand in hers.

Gripping his hand tightly, Alisa tugged and pulled him up. Then, without letting go, she spun around and began to head toward the road.

“Huh? Uh. Hold on. Are we seriously going to do this? Now? Your birthday party isn’t even over yet. You can’t just leave in the middle of your own party!”

“My parents and Masha can handle the rest. I’ll make sure to apologize to the others later, too.”

“Come on, you can’t just—At least go grab a jacket. How do you plan on getting there, anyway?”

“Taxi, bus…we’ll find a way. Just get moving! Let’s go!”

“Taxi? Do you even have money for—”

“Let’s go already!”

Alisa pressed forward without giving Masachika a chance to refuse, tugging him along by the hand…as a lone figure watched them from the shadows.

Hmm… Looks like I’m too late.

Nonoa had deliberately lost during the werewolf game early on to excuse herself and search for the missing birthday girl. Ayano had filled Nonoa in on Yuki’s situation, inspiring her to orchestrate a scheme that would bring Masachika to visit the Suou household to see his bedridden sister. The plan was to shatter him with grief, then sweep in to comfort him, thereby worming her way into his heart.

“You totally listened to me when I wanted to talk, so now, I’ll listen to you. Like, I’m pretty sure I know a lot about you, like with Yuki and Yuushou, that nobody else does, so I think I could give you the least-biased opinion here.”

“Thanks… But I’m fine right now.”

“…You’ll survive?”

“Yeah, I can handle it. Thanks.”

“A’ight.”

It was a conversation that she’d had with Masachika in the Kujou’s living room. At the time, he didn’t express his concerns because there were others around, but Nonoa was certain if they had been alone, Masachika would have undoubtedly confided in her.

Tsk. I was this close to getting Kuze to open up to me.

She had long been kept at a distance, unable to approach his guarded heart, but it had felt like she was almost there, close enough to touch his raw, unfiltered emotions.

However, Alisa had beaten Nonoa to him, causing her plan to instantly fall apart.

“…”

Even from afar, the murky turmoil within Masachika was palpable, and she was supposed to get her hands on his vulnerability tonight. After that, she could have done whatever she wanted with her hold on him.

She could’ve whispered tender lies and gently stolen his heart. Or she could’ve shattered it, mocked him coldly, and then feasted on the resultant despair. Simply imagining it made the lifeless heart in her chest stir with a strange excitement.

Ah, this is exhilarating… I legit can’t believe someone other than Saya could ever make me feel this way.

And that was exactly why she was filled with disgust: the realization that the perfect opportunity had been snatched right before her eyes.

Ugh… She’s ruining everything… This is so annoying. Wait. Am I, like, jealous?

It wasn’t just the usual discomfort a person might feel toward someone unpleasant. It was a sticky, stinging kind of unease. Her lips twisted involuntarily and she felt the urge to kick the ground in frustration. Yet it wasn’t all bad. In fact, this was an emotion she wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t crossed paths with Masachika.

Still sucks, though.

It was better than being bored, but it wasn’t an emotion she wanted to experience. At any rate…Alisa was in the way.

There’s nothing I can do about it, though. I don’t want to hurt my friends.

That was an outright lie. When it came to hurting her friends, Nonoa felt nothing. She only cared because her parents had told her to cherish her friends—and since she couldn’t break their rules, she merely did the bare minimum to make sure she didn’t damage those relationships. However…

Yup, nothing I can do… Then again, all’s fair in love and war.

Her mother had once said that love was a battle, and that anything would be forgiven if done in the name of love. Therefore, Nonoa decided to define the feelings she held for Masachika as love. Which also meant that whatever happened, happened.

“Friendship is a fragile concept when compared to love…or something like that. Ha-ha.”

After she muttered those vaguely familiar words, Nonoa turned on her heel and used the key she’d borrowed from Maria to go back into the apartment. Once inside the Kujou residence, she opened the living room door, where she then met Maria’s gaze and noticed a smartphone in her hand.

“Ah, Nonoa. I’m sorry. I know you went looking for them, but Alya just called and said she was going to Yuki’s house…”

Nonoa immediately processed the information and decided to speak honestly about what she had witnessed.

“Ohhh. Yeah, I saw Alisa and Kuze run off together. So that’s where they were going…”

“Really? She didn’t go into detail…but apparently, they suddenly had to go see her for some reason.”

Maria tilted her head in confusion, so Nonoa promptly clarified:

“Like, they seemed like they were panicking. Or desperate, maybe? So I guess something must have happened?”

Touya slowly opened his mouth to speak after listening to their exchange.

“Yeah… Well, it must have been a pretty big deal for Little Kujou to suddenly ditch her own party.”

“Exactly… Hold up. I thought Yuki had some sort of urgent business she had to take care of?”

Chisaki glanced around in search of an explanation, but no one could give a satisfactory answer. Nonoa, the only one who knew what was going on, kept them in the dark, not wanting to betray Ayano’s trust.

“Eh, there’s no telling what happened, but I’m sure she has a good reason and will fill us in next time we see her!” Takeshi chimed in, with an overly cheerful voice, trying to clear the heavy atmosphere that had begun to settle over the room.

“Yeah, good point. Masachika’s with her, too, so everything’s going to be okay,” Hikaru added promptly, as if to back him up.

“Now that I think about it…I feel like something similar happened at the summer festival, too. You know, during the fireworks show,” Touya said with a grin.

“Hmm? Oh yeah! Kuze suddenly grabbed Alya’s hand, and they took off together!”

“Wait! Seriously?! He did?! That lucky little…!”

Takeshi jumped in right after Chisaki’s comment, quickly lifting the mood as they laughed over memories from the festival. Despite how absurd it was that the birthday girl herself had disappeared in the middle of her own party, not a single soul criticized her for it, perhaps because Alisa had always been such a genuinely good person.

Everyone really trusts her… It’d probably be pretty hard to break their trust in her.

Nonoa was apathetically analyzing the scene behind her usual listless expression…when Sayaka suddenly spoke up with a somewhat puzzled tone.

“Nonoa?”

“Hmm? What’s up, Saya?”

“…”

“What?? Come on, you’re making me blush.”

Nonoa smiled blandly back at her friend’s intense stare until Sayaka eventually averted her gaze.

“Never mind… Want anything to drink?”

“Oh! Yeah, can you get me some soda?”

“Really? Again? How many glasses have you had already? You’re going to get fat.”

“I basically can’t get fat. I’ll be fine. See? You feel that?”

Nonoa then nestled sweetly against Sayaka’s arm, her demeanor radiating pure innocence—a far cry from someone harboring dark intentions.

Meanwhile, the talk of the party—Alisa and Masachika—were on a bus, heading toward the Suou residence. They sat side by side in a double seat, exchanging no words, yet Alisa’s right hand was clutching Masachika’s left as if she was trying to hold something intangible together.

“…”

She stole a glance at Masachika, and though his profile revealed nothing, his distant gaze suggested he was deep in thought, confronting his inner self.

I probably shouldn’t bother him right now.

He no longer seemed consumed by regret, and if that were the case, then it was probably best to let him be. After all, Alisa’s earlier words had barely landed well, since eloquence had never been her strength. In other words, if Masachika didn’t need to be consoled right that moment, her silence would probably serve him better.

Once she reached that conclusion, Alisa turned toward the window and surrendered to her thoughts. With the storm finally dying down, only one matter demanded her attention. Put simply…

What do you mean, she’s your biological sister?!

That. Now that she had regained her composure, Alisa’s mind was plagued by this one question. Memories of past interactions with Yuki surfaced one after another, playing back in her head like a reel on loop.

Then what was that all about?!

One memory stood out most vividly: Yuki confronting her in the empty classroom at nightfall.

“I told you that I love him, so you have to tell me exactly how you feel, too!”

Overwhelmed by Yuki’s intensity, Alisa had boldly declared that she wouldn’t give her Masachika. It was a retort born from rivalry—a reaction to Yuki being his childhood friend and his student council partner back in middle school. And she’d feared that without that decisive declaration, Yuki would take him away from her. However…

She’s his sister?! His sister?! What? That means I told his little sister I’m not going to let her have him? Like some crazy stalker? No… Noooooo!!

Alisa wanted to writhe and bury her face in both hands, and she was doing everything she could to keep a straight face… Then she imagined Maria’s crush—Sah, or whatever his name was—suddenly storming over to her and shouting, “I won’t let you have Masha! She’s mine!”

There was no mistaking it. He would sound completely unhinged. It would be plain weird, and it would have made her tell her sister to really reconsider who she dates. And yet, the person who’d behaved that way was none other than Alisa herself.

Ngh…!! Aaaggghhh…!!

“Alya?”

“…!”

Startled by Masachika’s voice, Alisa quickly turned to face him, only to find him studying her with mild bewilderment.

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh, uh… No. Nothing…”

“You sure?”

“Positive,” she assured him. Then she immediately turned away from him. And so Masachika, perhaps sensing her reluctance to pursue the topic further, said nothing more and looked the other way.

Alisa let out a quiet sigh of relief as she watched his reflection in the window.

Thank goodness he left it at that… I should probably put it out of my mind for now. I mean, it’s only going to get worse the more I think about it…

With that, she decided to put her thoughts on hold, since there was just a bit too much to process at the moment.

And I’m holding his hand, so he’ll be able to tell if I get nervous…

That was when it suddenly hit her.

I—I’m holding hands with Masachika?!

A jolt shot through Alisa like a lightning strike. Holding hands in itself wasn’t that big of a deal. She had even held his hand a few times before, but this time was different. After all, she knew she had feelings for him now, and holding hands with someone you had feelings for was completely different from holding hands with a friend! And to make matters worse…

Wait. Calm down and think for a second…

She had taken his hand at the park bench, but they had let go once they arrived at the bus stop, only to clasp hands again the instant they got on the bus… Yes, there was no denying it.

It was me?! I held his hand?!

Of course, she had no ulterior motive, and she definitely hadn’t used this opportunity to sneakily hold his hand, either. She was simply making sure he didn’t run off. That was it.

Y-yeah, I just wanted to help him find his way…like he did for me… That’s all this is!

But still…Alisa had been the one to initiate it with the boy she liked, and it wasn’t exactly subtle, either. She had essentially grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bus. It was as if…

I’m acting like some sort of alpha female wannabe!

Alisa inwardly buried her face in her hands and let out a silent, frustrated roar. In her opinion, normal girls didn’t reach out to hold hands with the boy they liked. Even if they mustered up all their courage, they still would not be so forward. Instead, they would offer their hand timidly and hope the boy would take it. She thought that was what ordinary girls should do.

But nonchalantly taking a boy’s hand? That was something only some promiscuous hussy would do! Only aggressive, flirty girls went after their crushes like that!

Modesty! A lady must have modesty and self-discipline!

Alisa writhed on the inside, feeling her sense of propriety being scraped away bit by bit. Hmm? She had done much bolder things before? No, that was simply teasing her smug, aggravating male friend so she could gain the upper hand. She hadn’t been trying to seduce him in the least… She definitely wasn’t trying to seduce him now, either, of course!

“S-seduce”? How scandalous! That is absolutely not something that a proper lady would do!

She truly felt that way…and yet…why did it make her heart race? She imagined herself tempting Masachika and seeing him, usually so composed, lose his cool and desire her desperately. It stirred something from her stomach up to her heart…causing her to almost immediately scold herself.

You idiot! What are you daydreaming about?! And at a time like this?! Masachika is about to face his estranged family! He’s fighting his inner demons! So stop daydreaming, stupid, love-crazed brain!

When she glanced to the side, she noticed that Masachika’s expression held a subtle hint of melancholy. It was clear that he wasn’t in any state of mind to be worrying over who held whose hand first or why.

See? Masachika doesn’t have time to worry about stupid stuff like this!

…Okay, calling it “stupid” is kind of harsh, don’t you think?

After criticizing her own opinion, she found herself somewhat annoyed. She knew he had bigger things to worry about, but as a girl in love, the fact that he seemed completely oblivious left her both irritated and a little anxious.

He could at least be a little embarrassed or nervous. What? Is holding hands not even special to him? A little hand holding doesn’t make his heart race? I can’t stop thinking about it, yet…

Driven by the swirling mix of frustration and anxiety, Alisa ended up gently squeezing his hand, causing Masachika to blink two or three times in surprise before turning to face her.

“…? Alya?”

“Oh, uh…” His expression was filled with curiosity as he gazed into her eyes. Alisa hesitated, scrambling for something to say, and then blurted out the first plausible thing that came to mind. “It’s all going to work out.”

“…Yeah. Thanks.”

Though her reassurance was baseless and merely on-the-spot improvisation, Masachika smiled faintly, thanked her, and turned to face forward once again, still not showing even a hint of embarrassment or nervousness.

…Hmph.

Frustration and anxiety swelled inside Alisa. She couldn’t let it go—not unless he noticed her, even just a little. But how? Flashing her chest or clinging to his arm like before was obviously out of the question. Too overt. And besides, they weren’t exactly alone. Whatever she was going to do, it had to be subtle, casual, and—most importantly—seem free of any deeper meaning.

What can I even do…?

Caught up in her thoughts, Alisa suddenly remembered their joined hands. They were loosely clasped on the seat between them, her hand resting on top of his…and the observation made her realize just how cramped the space really was.

That’s it…!

A sudden idea came to her. Right as the bus rounded a curve, she exaggerated her shift in weight, pretending to be thrown off balance by the centrifugal force. Sliding both legs to the side, she casually let their joined hands slip beneath her, gently pinning them under her thighs.

“Ah! Sorry.”

“Hmm? Oh.”

While briefly apologizing, she watched Masachika’s face closely, just to make sure he hadn’t noticed anything strange. Then, once the bus began to straighten out, she casually—ever so casually—lifted their joined hands under the guise that she didn’t want to crush them again. Obviously, there was no other reason why she would lift their hands, since she had absolutely no ulterior motive… Then she placed their hands on top of her thigh.

Eep!

The cool back of his hand rested firmly on Alisa’s thigh, sending a faint shiver down her spine. But she maintained her composure, looking casually out the window while observing his reflection in the glass.

How do ya like that?!

Masachika’s expression hadn’t changed a bit. He was still staring straight ahead, completely oblivious to his left hand resting on Alisa’s thigh.

“…”

Alisa’s spirits instantly deflated before being replaced by an indescribable wave of embarrassment.

What am I even doing? she wondered. Seriously, what is all this about? Am I stupid…? Actually, that shouldn’t even be a question. I’m an idiot. What am I doing? He’s obviously not even thinking about me right now… This is ridiculous…

Crushed by the weight of her own foolishness, Alisa was left drowning in shame and regret. All she wanted now was to quietly move their hands back to where they had been a moment before and pretend none of it had ever happened. Doing that, however, would be far too unnatural, and it would ruin the whole casual act she had been working so hard to perform. And so…she had no choice but to add another page to her ever-growing anthology of humiliation.

Ugh. I want to disappear… Can this bus go any slower? Hurry up already…

Behind a blank expression, Alisa silently prayed to disappear, fighting back welling tears. Meanwhile, Masachika…

I need to face my past…then what? What do I even want to do? He pondered. I’m sure Yuki’s—thigh… I’m sure she’s in bed with the flu and—so soft. So soft…! Th-thigh! Skirt! Knee-high socks! Thigh!

Alisa’s efforts had been far more effective than she could have ever imagined. The sensation alone was enough to scramble his brain as he fought to keep a straight face. He tried desperately to pull his attention away from his left hand, but no matter what, his eyes kept drifting back, inevitably drawn to the spot where his hand rested.

…!!

Catching a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, Masachika quietly gasped as he recalled something he had seen online. It was a video of a self-proclaimed connoisseur of knee-high socks fervently rambling about his obsession.

“The real focus is right above the knee-high socks! Do you see this? I’m talking about the soft, somewhat squishy, part of the thigh right here! The part that spills over the edge of the tight socks! This! This is what it’s all about!”

And that spot was exactly where his hand was resting: the sacred land between the hem of her skirt and her sock.

Gaaah!

His index finger brushed against the rough texture of the skirt’s fabric, and his pinky touched the silky smoothness of her socks. But underneath his middle and ring finger was her soft, supple, bare skin. Ah, if only it was his palm and not the back of his hand resting on her thigh—

What is wrong with you?! Get out of the gutter, stupid filthy brain! Just end yourself! I don’t have time for these dirty thoughts right now!

Just moments ago, he had been seriously pondering his next steps, yet after one fleeting moment of luck, his mind was back to being depraved. He couldn’t help but despise how shameless he could be.

See?! Look at Alya! She’s acting completely normal! It was clearly an accident. She’s not grinning or whispering in Russian either! She probably just didn’t want her hand to get crushed, so she put it somewhere safe… Ugh! Begone, lewd thoughts!

Masachika clenched his teeth, struggling to appear unaffected. Meanwhile…

Maybe he’s just not interested in me that way…?

Though she felt like curling up in a ball of despair, Alisa desperately fought to maintain her composure; there were still seven more stops until they reached their destination.

Chapter 2. And then, the mother and her child locked eyes.

After about twenty minutes on the bus and a ten-minute walk from the bus stop, Masachika finally stood before the Suou estate for the first time in years.

Ah…

Old memories of the home he thought he would never return to—that he thought he could never return to—came flooding back. Nevertheless, one thought in particular plagued Masachika’s mind as he intently stared at a grand gate leading to an impressive garden and the intercom that stood between him and the entrance.

I really wish I didn’t have to push that button…

Of course, he intended to go inside. He wouldn’t have come all this way if his resolve wasn’t firm… However, he wondered if he had to be so bold as to make a grand entrance through the front door. Wouldn’t it be perfectly reasonable to just call Ayano and have her quietly let me in? After all, she was the one who had invited him to the Suou household in the first place, so it wouldn’t come off as strange. And more importantly, it might help him avoid running into his grandfather or mother before seeing Yuki.

They’re the last people I want to run into with Alya here.

He didn’t know how he would react if he ran into either of them. He might end up blurting out something that would completely weird Alisa out. And besides, coming back to his childhood home for the first time in years—with a girl at his side, no less—was just plain awkward.

I’ll just call Ayano and have her take us to Yuki’s room. That way,I can go talk to my grandfather while Alya waits in Yuki’s room. All right, let’s do this.

But just as he reached that conclusion and was about to pull out his phone, a snow-white hand reached out from beside him and pressed the intercom button.

“Hey?!”

“What? You were taking too long.”

“I was coming up with a—”

“Master Masachika…?”

The person who answered was Natsu Kimishima, a Suou family maid whom he hadn’t spoken to in several years. Masachika’s breath caught, and he was frozen for a few moments before finding his voice.

“…Long time no see, Natsu.”

“Oh my. Oh my! Yes… Yes…! It has been too long! Oh, uh… I see you brought a young lady with you as well…”

“Oh, this is…”

While Masachika struggled to find an explanation, Alisa chimed in and smoothly introduced herself.

“I apologize for the intrusion this late at night. I’m Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou. I’m Masachika’s classmate and work with Yuki in the student council. We heard that Yuki got the flu, so we thought we would come check up on her, if that’s okay.”

“Oh my. What a polite young lady… Understood. Could you please give me a moment?” replied Natsu, perhaps having regained her composure thanks to Alisa’s courteous greeting. Once the intercom cut off, Masachika exhaled softly, then turned his gaze toward Alisa, staring at her intently.

“…What?” She asked.

“Oh, uh… It’s just…you sure know how to keep calm. I can really count on you.”

“…Of course. I told you already… I’m going to be here for you…,” Alisa replied bashfully while averting her gaze.

“Yeah… Thanks,” said Masachika with a weak smile.

“…No problem.”

She turned her head to face away even more, nervously fidgeting with her hair…when suddenly Masachika lifted her right hand gently into the air.

“But maybe we should stop holding hands while we’re inside?”

“Huh? Oh…”

As Alisa looked down at their joined hands, a flicker of irritation knitted her brow before she looked away in a huff.

“I’m fine staying this way.”

“Wait. What? There’s a security camera right over there, you know? It’s going to look like I came all this way to introduce my fiancée to the family. And we especially don’t want Natsu to catch us like this, either!” Masachika protested fervently, his eyes flicking nervously to the camera on the wall. He knew that Natsu could act as giddy as a schoolgirl at times—a striking contrast to her granddaughter, Ayano.

Alisa also shot a quick glance at the camera, then turned away with another huff, tightly squeezing Masachika’s hand as she whispered:

“<I’m fine with that.>”

Stop being fine with everything!!

Masachika screamed inwardly at that utterly explosive statement. Joke or not, it made him momentarily forget what they were even doing there.

You’re fine if there’s a misunderstanding? Seriously? Wait. Do you really want me to introduce you as my fiancée? You’d be fine if I was like, “Hey, guys! We’re getting married”? Natsu would be thrilled. That’s for sure. But you were just joking, right? Right?!

Though Masachika was staring at Alisa with disbelief, he couldn’t quite make out her expression with her face turned away. Still, even in the darkness of the night, he could see that the tip of her ear was bright red.

You were joking…right…?

Sweat began to gather in his palm where their hands were clasped. He panicked. A part of him wanted to pull away, but doing so now would be terribly rude. But even then, as they stood there in silence, he couldn’t help but imagine Natsu quietly consulting with Gensei, perhaps even heading to the front door together to greet them…

Hold up. I can’t just not say anything, or she’s going to get suspicious.

Masachika managed to maintain his composure, suddenly reminding himself that he had been pretending he didn’t understand Russian.

“I don’t know what you just said…but we should probably stop holding hands. I mean it. I don’t have time to go into detail right now, but the head of the household here would probably be pissed if he saw me stroll through the front gate with your hand in mine.”

Alisa shot her rambling partner a dissatisfied glare before abruptly releasing his hand. However, just as Masachika began to taste relief, she started fidgeting with her hair and muttered:

“<You could have at least blushed a little.>”

…Huh? Wait. Is that why she’s mad? Because I didn’t react to us holding hands? How adorable could one girl be? The thought rose unbidden as Masachika quickly looked in the other direction to hide his expression. He was startled by a sudden loud, metallic clang. The gate in front of them began to groan as it automatically slid open with a rumble. He exhaled, realizing the sound that had startled him was nothing more than the lock disengaging.

No. This is not the time to relax.

He was about to deal with his greatest karmic burden. He had always imagined that he would need tremendous resolve if the time ever came to confront his past. And yet…

Of all the ways I pictured coming back, I never expected to feel this way while walking through the front gate.

It was a surprisingly strange feeling, deflating Masachika the instant he walked past the gate.

“Alya,” he called out to his partner, his head still facing forward.

“What?”

“Thanks.”

“…Yeah.”

Her usual curt response made him smile as he walked toward the mansion’s entrance. Then, as if on cue, the front door swung open, revealing the man himself, Gensei Suou—head of the household and grandfather to both Masachika and Yuki. The very man who, when Masachika left this home, had ordered him to never call himself Yuki’s brother again.

“…”

Though Gensei’s unchanging, coldly calculating eyes pierced into him, he felt strangely calm, much to his own surprise.

I had no idea how I was going to react up until a few seconds ago…but I’m fine. I guess it’s all thanks to Alya.

Masachika truly felt that way as he continued walking ahead, looking straight into Gensei’s eyes, before stopping a few steps away from him and taking the initiative to speak.

“I apologize for stopping by this late at night. I heard my friend Yuki got sick, so I stopped by to check up on her, if that’s okay.”

Gensei glared at both Masachika and Alisa before responding to the impersonal, somewhat formal greeting.

“You stopped by to check up on her? Without bothering to call in advance or even bring her a gift?”

“I apologize. I rushed over the instant Ayano told me she was sick.” Masachika apologized sincerely, unfazed by Gensei’s cold remark. But as his grandfather narrowed his eyes further, Alisa stepped forward, positioned herself beside Masachika, and bowed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou, and I work in the student council with Yuki Suou. I realize this isn’t an appropriate time to come over, especially unannounced, but would it be okay if I checked up on Yuki?”

Gensei shifted his gaze to Alisa, stared her right in the eye, and replied:

“I’m Yuki’s grandfather, Gensei Suou… You made sure to tell your parents you were coming over, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Uh…”

Masachika, who had entirely forgotten to contact Kyoutarou, grunted. With his mind tangled in countless thoughts and because he’d essentially lived on his own, the thought of calling his parents had never occurred to him.

Both his and Alisa’s jaws dropped slightly, prompting an increasingly sharp glare from Gensei, but just as Masachika braced himself for the scolding he knew was coming, ready to apologize—

“Just come inside,” Gensei said unexpectedly, and turned his back to them. He opened the door and stepped back inside. “We have guests. Take them to Yuki’s room,” he instructed Natsu, who was waiting nearby.

“As you wish. This way, please.”

After Natsu bowed politely to Gensei, she turned to welcome Masachika and Alisa inside. But as they stepped through the entryway, Gensei disappeared deeper into the house.

“…”

“This way, please.”

Once Gensei was out of sight, Natsu quietly set out a pair of slippers for each of them, which they promptly put on.

“Thank you for coming over today. Oh, Miss Kujou, allow me to introduce myself. I am Natsu Kimishima, Ayano Kimishima’s grandmother, and I work for the Suou family.”

“Oh, you’re Ayano’s grandmother? Allow me to introduce myself again. I’m Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou. I apologize for stopping by so late at night.”

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for. I am sure Lady Yuki will be thrilled. She does, however, have the flu, so please wear these masks.”

“Oh, thank you so much.”

“Thank you.”

“You are very welcome. Now please, follow me.”

After accepting the masks from Natsu, they followed her deeper into the mansion.

“You really surprised me, you know? I never expected to see you here, Master Masachika…and with such a lovely young lady as well,” gushed Natsu, still facing forward.

“…Yeah, I’m really sorry about this. I know it was sudden.”

“Not at all. I am just so happy that—oh dear. I think I’m going to cry. I suppose this is a sign that I’m getting old.”

Natsu sniffled, making Masachika feel awkward. Fortunately, they soon arrived at Yuki’s room, where Natsu knocked three times. The door opened from the inside almost immediately.

“Yes?”

Ayano emerged, and her eyes went wide the instant she noticed Masachika standing behind Natsu.

“Master Masachika…”

“…Sorry I’m late.”

Ayano’s eyes glistened slightly as she lowered her head.

“Not at all… Please, come in,” she replied briefly, stepping to the side to make way for Masachika and Alisa.

I probably should have done this much sooner…

Natsu’s and Ayano’s emotional reactions made that clear, but those sentimental thoughts were instantly swept away the moment he saw Yuki.

“Ah…”

The small girl with long, braided black hair was lying weakly in a large bed. The faint scent of soap filled the air, and he could feel the humidity on his skin; all of it evoked memories of the past, stopping Masachika in his tracks.

“Masachika…”

Snapped back to reality by Alisa’s worried voice, he resumed walking until he reached the bedside where a chair was placed, likely where Ayano had been sitting moments earlier. His hand hesitantly landed on Yuki’s forehead, its gentle warmth against his palm making him bite his lip. Then Yuki slowly opened her eyes.

“Mngh…”

Her dim, vacant gaze stared at the ceiling before slowly moving toward Masachika. Then, in a dry, hoarse voice, she whispered:

“Big Brother…?”

“…!”

She addressed him just like she had when they were children, and Masachika swallowed the surge of emotion welling up deep within his chest.

“Yeah, it’s me… Are you okay?”

He realized how stupid the question was the instant the words left his mouth, yet seeing Yuki’s face scrunch up still took him by surprise.

“Yuki…?”

“Uuu…waaah…! Big Brother…!!”

Tears slipped from her tightly shut eyes as she wept like a child, her voice hoarse as she sobbed and hiccupped.

“Ngh…! It hurts… It hurts so bad…! Make—make it stop.”

This childlike behavior was worlds apart from the graceful poise she showed at school or the playful mischief she displayed with him. Her pitiful sobs were slowly tightening around Masachika’s heart until it felt like it was going to burst.

Why didn’t I come sooner…?!

He was unable to keep holding back, and his tears broke free. No longer aware or even concerned that Alisa was watching, he wrapped his arms around Yuki’s frail body and embraced her.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Masachika apologized repeatedly, tears streaming down his cheeks, while Yuki continued to whimper, perhaps not even hearing his voice.

“I can’t take it anymore… Why…?! Why do only I have to feel this way… H-help me…,” Yuki said between sobs.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry…! If only I could take your place, I would…!”

“Mn… Hic! Uuurgh…”

“I’m so sorry…”

He gently rubbed her back. Through the fabric of her pajamas, he could feel the sharp edges of her bones beneath her skin, and the frailty of her body only deepened his sorrow as the tears continued to fall.

Alisa’s eyes fixed on their embrace as a stinging warmth welled up behind her nose, blurring her vision while she blinked and sniffled softly.

Oh… They really are…

Only now did Alisa truly process that these two were siblings. She wasn’t sure how she had she mistaken them for lovers. The way they wept together and held each other could only be seen as familial.

Ah…

It all made sense to her now. Everything Masachika had said was true: there was nothing between them beyond familial love or sibling bonds. Yet this realization brought its own cruel clarity, for Alisa realized that Masachika felt no deeper affection for her than what he showed Yuki. Yuki wasn’t her romantic rival, but she was someone Alisa could never compete with because, for Masachika, Yuki would always be more special than anyone else—incomparable and irreplaceable.

What Masachika needs right now…is to be loved by his family…not me…

A chill spread in her chest. She wondered why she was even there. The thought drifted through her mind as loneliness consumed her, and, disgusted by her own selfish emotions, Alisa lowered her head.

“Alisa, there’s a seat right here if you want it,” Ayano quietly suggested, but after blinking a few times, Alisa shook her head.

“Thank you, but I’m fine,” she assured Ayano, lifting her head back up. Yuki had stopped crying and had drifted back to sleep, so Masachika gently lowered her onto the bed. He positioned her head on the pillow and drew the blanket to her shoulders, then dabbed away the sweat and tears with a damp towel, every movement radiating pure tenderness and care.

“…”

And then there was silence. Only Yuki’s soft breathing filled the air as Masachika gazed down at her while Alisa and Ayano watched from behind. Time stretched indefinitely, until a sudden knock broke the stillness. Ayano moved swiftly and silently to the door, and then a familiar, middle-aged woman stepped inside.

“Yuki—”

But the instant she saw Masachika sitting beside the bed, she tensed up and froze where she stood.

Is that Yuki’s mother…?

Recognizing Yuki’s mother, Yumi Suou, from the sports festival, Alisa glanced at Masachika, who was watching her with a somewhat stern expression, then immediately shifted her gaze back to Yumi…when it suddenly it hit her.

Oh… Right.

She couldn’t believe she hadn’t considered it until then. It was actually obvious when she thought about it. If Masachika and Yuki were siblings, then obviously, by extension, Yuki’s mother was also Masachika’s mother. In other words, the two facing each other now were none other than a biological mother and her child.

Uh… What should I do? Uh…

As the air grew tense, just like it had at the sports festival, Alisa, not understanding the reason, opened her mouth to speak despite the confusion. But before she could get a word out, Natsu spoke up from behind Yumi.

“Oh, Lady Yumi. Have you washed your hands? I understand you are worried about your daughter, but maybe you should go wash up, first?”

Yumi flinched in response to the older woman’s bright tone, and she awkwardly turned around.

“Yes… I suppose I should,” she muttered softly, before exiting the room.

Feeling somewhat relieved, Alisa shifted her gaze toward Masachika, who was already looking back at her, wearing a troubled smile.

“Sorry about that. It’s…”

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” mumbled Alisa while Masachika stood up from his chair and quietly approached her. Then, taking her hand in both of his, he gazed straight into her wavering eyes.

“Thanks for everything today. You gave me the courage to come here, and for that, I am truly grateful.”

“…! I didn’t do anything…”

In fact, she was well aware she had only acted selfishly. She wondered how many times she had thought only of Masachika and acted solely for his benefit.

I told him I’d be there for him and support him, and yet…

Disgusted with herself, Alisa lowered her eyes in shame, but Masachika simply shook his head and replied:

“You have done so much for me. I feel like I can get back on the right path thanks to you.”

“The right path…?”

He just smiled slightly and bowed without clarifying.

“Thank you. I mean it. I’ll be okay. I can face my past now…and I don’t want your family to worry about you, either.”

Alisa hesitated for a moment before slowly nodding, realizing what he was trying to say.

“…All right, I’m going to start heading home.”

“Sorry for putting you through all this. I’ll explain everything next time we hang out and make it up to you.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Masachika lifted his chin back up with another faint smile, then shifted his gaze toward Natsu.

“Natsu, do you think you could take her home for me?”

“Of course. I’ll go get the car.”

“Thank you.”

“I appreciate it. Sorry about this,” Alisa said.

“Oh, not at all. Please stop by again soon so I can give you a proper welcome and show you some real hospitality.”

“Oh, wow… Thank you.”

“No. Thank you. Anyway, follow me.”

And so, Alisa departed from Yuki’s room with Natsu leading the way. But just as they were heading toward the entrance, she suddenly made eye contact with Yumi, who was approaching from the other end of the hallway.

“Oh, you’re Masachika’s…”

“Yes, I’m his classmate and his partner in the student council, Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou. I apologize for stopping by so late at night.”

“Not at all… Are you leaving already?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, well…have a safe trip home.”

“Thank you, goodbye.”

After they passed each other, Alisa, filled with curiosity, glanced back at Yumi walking toward Yuki’s room.

She seems like a very timid person—someone who avoids conflict… I wonder why Masachika always acts so hostile toward her?

Although she didn’t know why he acted the way he did, she was sure that he would explain everything to her one day, when the time was right.

“<…I know you can do it.>”

Alisa left her partner with those soft, encouraging words as she exited the Suou household.

A knock echoed through the room, and Yumi entered. Masachika had organized his thoughts while waiting, understanding the rift between them ran even deeper than his issues with Gensei. Rising calmly, he offered his chair to Yumi. She seemed to have steeled her resolve, stopping a few steps away before slowly opening her mouth to speak.

“It has been quite some time, Masachika.”

“…Hi, Mom.”

She lowered her gaze, perhaps having mixed emotions over being called that, yet Masachika remained strangely calm even as she essentially looked away from him again.

“…Yuki’s asleep. She woke up briefly a little earlier, though,” he mentioned, gesturing for her to sit in the chair before turning his gaze toward Ayano.

“Sorry, Ayano, but do you think you could get us something to drink?”

“Ah… But of course. Would black tea be okay?”

“Bring us a pitcher of barley tea if you can.”

“Very well. I will be back shortly with your tea.”

After watching Ayano bow before leaving the room, Masachika faced Yumi, who was checking on Yuki.

…She looks dead inside.

His mother’s face, which he observed closely for the first time in years, bore shadows far deeper than his memory held. Though she had always been reserved and quiet, a profound melancholy now seemed to cling to her. Yet her gaze for Yuki remained untouched: pure, unwavering concern. That alone hadn’t changed one bit.

No… That’s not the only thing that hasn’t changed.

The love Yumi showed Yuki had never faltered, just as her feelings for Kyoutarou likely remained unchanged even now. The tender mother Masachika had once cherished wasn’t some illusion… Rather, it was the woman who had screamed at Masachika that one time who was—

“Stop! Just stop!”

“…”

He shut his eyes tightly as the memory played back in his mind.

Relax. Stop thinking only about the bad memories. It wasn’t all bad, right?

It was going to be okay. He could now look back at that day without getting upset. He could recall the remorse that had flickered across Yumi’s face after her outburst that day. He could remember how, save for that single moment, Yumi had been nothing but a loving mother to him.

“…Mom.”

“…Yes?”

Perhaps guilt kept her from looking him in the eye…but then, what emotion had driven Yumi to avoid Masachika’s gaze even before then?

I have to know the truth.

To end the regret and return to the right path—this was something that could not be avoided.

“I want to talk.”

“…”

Masachika’s resolute words slowly drew Yumi’s gaze toward his, and their eyes met. Perhaps Yumi, too, felt she could no longer run away.

“I want to know why…”

He swallowed thickly, licked his lips, and then, bracing himself, finally asked:

“You stopped looking me in the eye when I was living here.”

Yumi’s gaze wavered before darting away, but after a moment, she closed her eyes, then shifted her gaze back at him.

“Why did you…get so upset when I played the piano?” he asked, meeting her gaze. Yumi lowered her eyes and fell silent for a while before looking straight at Masachika and replying:

“Even if I told you…it would only hurt you.” In a voice tinged with resignation and regret, she continued, “All I can tell you is that you did nothing wrong. Your father didn’t do anything wrong, either… Everything that happened was because of my selfishness…and I feel bad for what I did to you.”

As she spoke and hung her head like a criminal…she reminded Masachika of himself from only an hour ago, when he had confessed his sins to Alisa.

She’s like a small child…

Strangely, the mother before him now seemed like a child his own age—a small, wounded child, frightened and trembling.

“I want to hear it. I want you to tell me everything.”

He knew he was ready. The mother etched in his mind, shaped by sorrow and bitter memories, was gone. Only the timid and gentle mother he had always known remained.

“I want to know what you were feeling that made you snap. I feel like I can accept it now, whatever it is.”

His mother remained silent with her face cast downward for a few moments. Before long, there was a gentle knock, and Ayano entered with a tray bearing two glasses and a pitcher of barley tea.

“…Shall we go somewhere else to talk?” Yumi suggested quietly, standing up from her chair and taking the tray from Ayano’s hands.

“Ayano, please take care of Yuki for me.”

“But of course.”

Yumi headed out of the room, switching places with Ayano, while Masachika hurriedly followed behind.

“Sorry about this. I’m counting on you,” Masachika said to Ayano.

“You can count on me.”

Leaving Ayano with that task, he followed Yumi down the hallway to her room, then took a seat on the couch at her suggestion while she placed the tray on the low table and picked up a framed picture from atop the chest. Once settled in the seat across from Masachika, she held the photo out to him.

“…?” Unsure of his mother’s intent, he glanced down and inclined his head slightly at the unfamiliar boy and girl in the picture. “Is that…?”

What struck him first was how much the girl resembled Yuki, enough to be mistaken for her at a glance. Yet her drooping eyes and the mole beneath one eye revealed this was not Yuki, but Yumi. Beside the teenage girl stood a boy with his arm around her shoulder, laughing with unbridled joy.

“Uncle Naotaka…?”

After he pulled that name from his vague memories, Yumi quietly nodded.

“Yes, that is my late brother.”

Then, as Masachika lifted his chin once again, she revealed with a faint, sorrowful smile:

“Your eyes and Yuki’s…look exactly like his.”

Chapter 3. And in the end, I was still a nobody.

My older brother was a very capable person—the kind of person one would call a genius. He excelled at everything he touched, yet he never showed off. He possessed a bright, spirited personality and could also get along with anyone.

“Yumi! You have got to see this! I just put a ton of dry ice in the bath, and it is insane!”

“What is wrong with you…?”

“Yumi! I just made the most amazing mud pie! Here!”

“Ew. No… Is that really even mud?”

He would constantly dote on me, even though I was three years younger than him. I sometimes felt I was at the mercy of his whims, but I adored my brother dearly. However…as I grew older, I found myself unable to openly adore him anymore, for the gulf between us had become far too vast. What came effortlessly to him was impossible for me, and what he mastered in three days took me a month to grasp. Against my brother’s overflowing talent, I was painfully ordinary, bereft of any gifts at all.

“You seem to have no problem when it comes to basic conversation, Naotaka.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good. Come with me next week when I go to America. It’s time for you to practice using English with native speakers.”

Perhaps my father had recognized this early on. Being someone who valued talent above all else, he only ever had eyes for my brother and had never once turned his gaze toward me.

“Oh my. Naotaka is so smart. It’s hard to believe he’s still in elementary school.”

“Yes, it really is. He’s already at the top of his class, and he’s going to start school at Seirei Academy in spring, right? You must be so proud of him.”

“We don’t have to worry about the Suou family’s future, now! By the way, what about Yumi…?”

Family gatherings were always unbearably uncomfortable. Adults would always praise and exalt my brother while regarding me with contempt. Even my father would never speak much about me around them.

“Yumi’s a woman, and women have their own roles to fill.”

“Ha-ha! Yeah, good point. She’s beautiful, too. She definitely won’t have trouble finding a husband.”

Looking back, that might have been my father’s way of protecting me, but at the time, I couldn’t see it that way.

Being a woman is all I’m good for?

The only thing I was ever praised for was my appearance, which I was born with. No one expected me to accomplish anything. They assumed I couldn’t even if I tried.

“No, Yumi’s just a late bloomer! Trust me! I’m her brother!”

Even my brother’s kindness only made me feel more miserable. Tormented by my inferiority complex toward him, I hated myself for even sometimes wishing he weren’t here.

“You can’t let these things bother you. You’re special in your own way,” my mother would always say as I hung my head, enduring the shapeless malice.

Unlike my strict father, my mother was very kind and easygoing, always wearing a cheerful smile. Despite being a diplomat’s wife, she rarely accompanied my father abroad or engaged in social activities in Japan. She was always at home, watching over us siblings with that warm smile.

Besides, my mother didn’t understand English. She would often joke that she could hardly even speak Japanese, which made her a target for our relatives’ mockery when my father wasn’t present as well. Yet even when mocked, she would simply smile cheerfully without a care in the world. Some would even wonder out loud if she understood sarcasm because of her demeanor, so one day, I asked her about it.

“Doesn’t it frustrate you?”

I was frustrated, so my mother must have been frustrated, too. That was what I had assumed, but she simply shook her head without a worry in the world.

“Not at all. They just don’t know how amazing I am. That’s all.”

“…? You’re amazing?”

“Yep. And they don’t know this, which is why they say those things. But I know that I’m an incredible person, so I don’t care what they say,” she boasted, puffing out her chest with a laugh.

“I am amazing! I mean, look at the wonderful, admirable man who chose me! And look at the two adorable, talented children I gave birth to! Both you and Naotaka are amazing, too, and I know that better than anyone else, so you can’t let it bother you when these ignorant people speak ill of you.”

Seeing my mother’s confidence made me wonder if perhaps she truly was remarkable, but in the end, I couldn’t think the same way she did, so whenever something bad happened, I would always flee to the piano. The piano was my only forte, and the one thing I was confident I wouldn’t be outshined in by my brother. My father remained indifferent, as always, but my mother and brother often praised my playing. And one day, they even exclaimed:

“Yumi, you are so good at piano. Maybe you’ll become a professional pianist one day.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’d be awesome! She’s beautiful, too, so she’d look great in a gown!”

“What? Giggle… I don’t know.”

A professional pianist. Up until that day, I had been playing piano with no real ambition, but those words felt incredibly enticing. I couldn’t follow my father in his footsteps and become a diplomat, working actively across the globe, but perhaps I could become a pianist who performed worldwide. Surely, I would no longer feel inferior to my brother, and my relatives probably wouldn’t look down on me, either. With piano, the only thing I was ever good at, I was sure of it…

“I hear you want to become a pianist.”

When my father brought it up a few days later at the dinner table, I jumped in my seat. I figured he would say it was an unsuitable profession for a Suou daughter, or dismiss it as an unrealistic dream. However…

“If you need anything, you tell me. If you want to study abroad to learn piano, then I’ll arrange for it.”

“Oh…!”

“Give it everything you’ve got.”

For the first time, I felt my father had expectations for me. He was actually supporting my dream. This had to be the only path where I could truly shine, so from then on, I devoted myself entirely to the piano. Through my father’s connections, I found an exceptional teacher, excelled at domestic competitions, and entered a prestigious girls’ school with a music program.

Although I went to a middle school that wasn’t academically prestigious, which earned me more mockery from my relatives, I no longer hung my head in shame and endured their negativity. I learned that having something to rely on, or a place to call your own, naturally granted people confidence and peace of mind. I was amazing. One day, I was going to truly become a great pianist and show them all. Therefore, I could smile and brush off their ridicule. But when middle school started, it was filled with people aspiring to make a living as a musician, and my grades eventually stagnated.

“Don’t worry about it. Slumps are completely normal.”

“You’ve got this. Mom loves it when you play piano, and one day, everyone’s going to feel the same way.”

My mother and brother would always tell me that, but I was in my rebellious teenage phase, so I found both comments extremely annoying. My increasingly talented brother’s words sounded condescending to me, and my mother’s baseless encouragement only made me irritated.

“Get out of my room! I can’t concentrate when you’re here!” I would always say to my mother, driving her away whenever I played piano at home. At that time, everything about my mother annoyed me for some reason. Because her husband was amazing, because her children were amazing, she was supposedly amazing, too? Didn’t that mean she had nothing to be proud of except being a wife and mother? Because she had nothing to take pride in about herself, she took pride in her husband and children. Wasn’t that exactly the kind of person whose only value was being a woman?

That’s not the kind of life I want.

I didn’t want to parasitize other people’s worth and delude myself into thinking I had value. I wanted to become someone admired for their own achievements, like my father and brother, and I actually believed I could do it. After all, the exceptional blood of the Suou family flowed through my veins as well.

Therefore, I spent my days desperately devoting myself to the piano. It was about a year after that when my mother suddenly died. It was one week before my fourteenth birthday. My mother had gone out alone to buy me a birthday present, and she was mugged by two people on a motorcycle. When she resisted, she was dragged alongside their motorcycle until she fell, striking her head on the curb. When we received the call from the police, my brother and I rushed to the hospital, but my father was away on business overseas.

“M-Mom is…!”

Though I had found her so irritating, seeing my mother lying there, connected to those machines and unconscious, I could only think about how kind she always was to me. Why couldn’t I have returned even a fraction of that love? Regret swallowed me like waves as endless tears ran down my cheeks.

I desperately wanted to apologize to my mother. I wanted the chance to be kinder to her from now on. Clutching her hand with that desperate wish, I called her name over and over, pleading with her to wake up and sending countless prayers skyward, begging that she not be taken from me. But two days later, she passed away without ever regaining consciousness, unable to await my father’s return.

I was consumed by such sadness, such frustration, that I cried until I couldn’t breathe, and my brother, who held me as I wept, was crying just as much. My father was the only one who didn’t shed a single tear, not even when he saw her body. He arrived at the hospital hours after my mother’s passing, only to indifferently give the hospital the go-ahead to perform mortuary procedures. Even when he presided over my mother’s funeral, my father never wept. Superficial condolences seemed to be unnecessary for him as well.

“What happened was truly unfortunate…but you’re still young, Gensei, and Yumi still needs a mother, so what are you going to do? Any plans on getting remarried?” someone asked him.

“That’s right, you’re a diplomat. You need a partner who can support you, right? I actually know someone who would be perfect…,” said another.

Some relatives began brazenly suggesting a new wife before my mother’s funeral was even over. Unable to believe such callousness, I wept in frustration while clutching my mother’s portrait. My brother, however, suddenly stood up, approached those relatives surrounding our father, and without hesitating for even a moment—

Whack!

The raw sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the funeral hall as one of the relatives fell hard on his backside.

“What is wrong with you?! You people aren’t our family! Never show your faces to us again!” shouted my brother, hurling the funeral money back at our stunned relatives’ faces before literally throwing them out of the funeral hall. It was the first time I had ever seen my brother so enraged, and I stopped crying in pure shock until he gently embraced me.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to put up with all that until now. I know they hurt you so many times… I should have done that a long time ago,” my brother confessed, his voice tinged with regret, before shifting his gaze toward our father.

“Dad, let’s cut ties with them. I’ll take such good care of the Suou family that we won’t need these branch families anymore.”

My brother was so radiant, and truly someone you could depend on. I knew instantly that he would take over the Suou family with dignity, just as he’d promised.

Don’t worry, Mom… Naotaka—The Suou family is going to be okay. Naotaka’s going to take care of me, too, so I’ll be fine…

I inwardly spoke to my mother, holding her portrait to my heart. I wanted to let her know that we were going to be okay so she could rest in peace. It was also a vow to myself to recover together with my brother. But life was never that easy and could be quite unpredictable.

“All right, Yumi! I’ll be back before you know it!”

Two months later, my brother died in an aviation accident while traveling to our father’s workplace. I never even saw his remains. The coffin that supposedly held my brother was sealed tight, its lid concealing whatever lied within. Perhaps that was why his death never felt real; even after he was gone, for many days, I felt like I was floating in a dream.

However, I finally snapped back to reality the instant I saw several men visiting the house one day—the same relatives who had been thrown out of my mother’s funeral. Their timing was surely no coincidence, either, arriving not too long after my brother’s—the family successor’s—funeral.

If I don’t do something, they’re going to steal everything from us and take over the family!

I couldn’t allow it. I wouldn’t let those people who had insulted my mother and me seize control of the family my brother had died investing in. The thought was unbearable. Driven by anger and a sense of duty, I stormed straight over to my father the instant they left.

“Dad! I’m going to become a diplomat! I’m going to become a diplomat and take over for the Suou family in my brother’s place!”

But my father…

“That’s not what I need from you.”

He turned me away as if my newfound dream was not even worth considering.

“Don’t even think about trying to replace Naotaka. All I need from you is to find a husband worthy of the Suou family name. That’s it. You’re free to do whatever you want as long as you do that.”

Even then, I felt my father still only saw me as a woman destined for a wife’s role. It was so maddening that I gave up the piano as well. Only after having lost everything could I clearly see how much my mother and brother had shielded me from the world, but I could no longer depend on them anymore. I stopped being content with simply being a prodigy’s little sister—a position with no responsibilities. I needed to push myself until I, too, became a skilled diplomat. I had to. With my brother gone, I was the only one who could protect our family.

So, to cut off any escape route, I abandoned the piano completely. Every hour I had once spent at the keys now belonged to my books. I transferred from music to academics at school and buried myself in my studies, day after relentless day. But the sacrifice paid off: I passed the external entrance exam to Seirei Academy—the same school my brother went to.

“I did it… I did it!”

I felt a sense of accomplishment and a faint hope that I, too, could conquer anything I put my mind to…but that was short lived. I was immediately confronted with reality following the first academic test after enrollment. I scored fourth lowest in my grade.

Desperate to salvage my pride, I told myself it was only because the test favored internal students who knew what questions would be on it. But once classes started, that excuse no longer worked. Even among the other transfer students, I was clearly the only one falling hopelessly behind while everyone else sailed ahead.

Why…? We all took the same test, and I passed, too, so why is there such a big difference? Why am I so far behind?

And that was when it hit me: Seirei Academy’s entrance exam had an interview in addition to the written test. That was the answer.

Oh, that’s why. I only passed…because of the Suou family name…

In the end, I couldn’t even claim the entrance exam as my own victory, and that realization made every day miserable. The constant ache of feeling inferior to everyone around me was unbearable enough, but then came the shadow of my brother’s legacy, especially since his fame as a middle school student council president was well known. Once word got out that I was his sister, the unwanted attention began.

“Your brother used to take such good care of me—”

“You’re not really like your brother at all. Oh, no, it’s not as if that’s a bad thing—”

“Hey, Yumi. Maybe we could go out sometime together—”

People praising my brother’s brilliance, people drawing comparisons between us, people trying to cozy up to the Suou family’s sole heir—they all felt like predators circling me, so I fled. I ran and ran, until I came to my senses and found myself standing before the music room door.

“Ah…”

There it was: the piano I hadn’t touched since losing my brother—the same instrument that had once been my refuge from pain.

“…”

Even though I had decided not to run away anymore, I found myself drawn to the bench. My fingers found the keys, and with the first note, my mother and brother materialized before me, their voices of praise echoing in memory, and I cried. Tears blurred my vision as I played, streaming down my cheeks and onto the keys, but when I finished playing the piece, I suddenly heard applause coming from behind me and quickly jerked my head up, startled.

“…?! Huh?!”

Only then, did the boy applauding seem to notice I was crying. With a startled expression, he stopped clapping and hurriedly took a handkerchief from his pants pocket, but after looking at the handkerchief and frowning slightly, he pulled out a pack of tissues from the opposite pocket.

“Uh… Here. Use this…”

When the flustered, stammering boy offered me a tissue, I quickly buried my face in my hands, mortified at being caught in such a vulnerable moment.

“Oh, uh…! Sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you… I was just walking by…and your playing was so beautiful that I couldn’t help myself…”

This was the first time since losing my mother and brother that anyone had praised my playing.

“Uh… I’m Kyoutarou Kuze. What’s your name?” he uttered, his eyes wandering nervously when I involuntarily looked up.

“…Yumi Suou.”

“Suou… Suou… Hmm? Where have I heard that name before?”

I thought I was going to be asked about my brother again, and I reflexively bit my lip, but the boy started waving his hands frantically, apparently misinterpreting my reaction entirely.

“Ah, sorry! I come from a pretty ordinary middle-class family, so I’m not familiar with wealthy, prestigious families! I can pick out names that match major corporations, but…”

He had clearly been scolded before by people offended that he didn’t know their family. His desperate, misguided explanations struck me as oddly endearing, and I found myself laughing a little despite everything, and his lips curled awkwardly.

That was how Kyoutarou and I met, and from then on, we began meeting regularly in the music room.

“I’m not trying to brag or anything, but my grades were good. It was basically the only thing I had going for me… My father was strangely enthusiastic about it all as well. He was like, ‘You could even get into Seirei Academy with those grades!’ and he made me take the entrance exam. But ever since I started going to school here, I’ve felt so alone. I mean, everyone’s obscenely rich, right? We have absolutely nothing in common. Of course, it’s my fault for taking the entrance exam before actually researching the academy, but still.”

Kyoutarou and I were both outcasts at school, though for different reasons. He knew nothing about my background, so I felt like I could finally breathe when we were together, allowing me to completely forget how suffocating the classroom felt. Even after he learned the truth about me, his attitude remained unchanged…

“Oh… So you’ve been working so hard for your brother’s sake as well. You’re amazing.”

And just like that, he praised me from the bottom of his heart…

“Mom, I’m sorry…”

“What?”

“I’m really sorry. I genuinely planned on listening quietly until the end, but…”

“…?”

“…Hearing about my parents’ mushy love story is seriously hard to stomach.”

“…”

It was the winter of my first year of high school when Kyoutarou confessed to me, and we started dating. By then, he already knew everything about my family situation, and he said that he wanted to formally introduce himself to my father.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Kyoutarou Kuze. Yumi and I have been dating for the past month.”

Kyoutarou was honest with my father about everything—even that he came from a middle-class family.

“Yumi, I want to speak with him alone. Please give us a moment,” my father said to me after Kyoutarou finished talking.

I was sent out of the room, and even now, the details of their conversation remain a mystery to me. However, I suspected my father had demanded that Kyoutarou pursue a career as a diplomat. Having written off his mediocre daughter, he had found a new prospect in her talented boyfriend. The evidence was clear, because from that day forward, Kyoutarou abandoned his dream of becoming a police officer and devoted himself to his diplomatic studies. Yet, despite feeling that my father had given up on me, I still had no intention to cede taking over for the Suou family in place of my brother.

“I think that’s a great idea. Let’s study and become diplomats together!”

Kyoutarou never dismissed this dream of mine, and we made a promise to become diplomats together…but studying side by side only highlighted a brutal truth I could not ignore: We were completely different in terms of intellectual ability. Even when we studied together, he had to teach me essentially everything, and I constantly felt like I was holding him back. Still, I couldn’t give up, so I continued to desperately study as hard as I could. However, Kyoutarou was the only one who passed the national civil service exam in the end.

“Congratulations. You really are amazing, Kyoutarou.”

On the surface, I congratulated him from the bottom of my heart, but looking back, I felt that this was when I began harboring a dark sense of inferiority. I wouldn’t allow myself to let it show, though. He remained as kind to me as ever, and more importantly, he had abandoned his own dreams to instead become a diplomat for the sake of our future. And that was why…

“You studied so hard, Yumi, and it wasn’t all for nothing. Maybe you didn’t become a diplomat, but I want you to continue to be there for me…as a diplomat’s wife.”

I buried those dark feelings deep in my heart and accepted his proposal. Our married life was happy, yet as Kyoutarou had warned, being a diplomat’s wife proved challenging. Overseas, every interaction with other diplomats awakened that familiar sting of inadequacy—the reminder of what I could never become. Therefore, when I became pregnant, I seized the chance to retreat to Japan’s familiar comfort. Kyoutarou even indulged this selfishness of mine, telling me that it was okay. But for some reason, that kindness of his only deepened my misery.

It was very peaceful for a while after our children were born. They were precious, and raising them was exhausting yet fulfilling, even with Natsu’s help. Being a competent mother finally quieted my inferiority complex toward Kyoutarou…until the children began revealing their own brilliance.

“Masachika? You can read that? That’s a really difficult book.”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Our two children, with eyes exactly like my brother’s, possessed the same genius that had defined him, and once my father recognized this, he became obsessive. He lavished them with the same elite education he had given my brother, only more intensely. My daughter, perhaps due to her fickle personality, often fled mid-lesson, but my son absorbed my father’s instruction at a tremendous pace, and people started calling him a child prodigy.

“…”

I had an accomplished husband and children with prodigious talent. In this house, I alone remained invisible to my father’s gaze—the only one destined for nothing. My husband and children had luminous futures stretching before them, lives filled with grand stages where crowds would shower them with respect and praise. I, however, would spend my days watching from the shadows, forever relegated to the wings. That future crystallized before me with absolute clarity.

Why can’t I be on stage?

I could feel the inferiority complex I had suppressed swelling deep within my chest, becoming harder to contain with each passing day. I wondered why I was the only one cursed with mediocrity. No matter how hard I tried, I could never reach my brother’s heights. Despite studying so hard since my second year of middle school, I couldn’t become a diplomat, yet my husband started studying in the winter of his first year of high school and passed the exam on his first try. And my children—they were born with gifts that might even eclipse my husband’s brilliance or my brother’s genius.

Why? It’s not fair.

That voice echoed in my mind, but I frantically shook the thought out of my head. Resenting my own children’s gifts and feeling jealous of them made me a failure as a mother. I couldn’t allow it. Those weren’t my true feelings. It was merely a momentary invasion of wicked thoughts. I told myself that and pushed those thoughts back deep into my heart again. But…

“Mom! I get to start studying middle school–level material today!”

“Mom! I got a black belt in karate!”

Every time my son innocently shared his accomplishments, that familiar misery of inadequacy surged through my chest like poison, making me want to scream. So I turned away to make sure he would never see those ugly feelings reflected in my eyes. Instead, gradually and without realizing it, I began channeling all that venom I couldn’t unleash on my child toward my husband.

“Work?! Again?! You’re never home!”

“I’m sorry. I really wish I could spend more time with the family…”

“You’re always like this! An apology isn’t good enough anymore!”

I didn’t know why he apologized. I was the one in the wrong. This was all senseless, cruel lashing out. The reason my husband wasn’t by my side was because he was busy with his diplomatic work—work that he had taken on for my sake, and staying in Japan was my decision as well. My husband had done nothing wrong, so I didn’t understand why he wasn’t angry with me. That kindness only made me feel more miserable. The pain became unbearable, so I fled to the piano yet again.

“Mom, that was amazing! Play another piece!”

“Play again! Again!”

Only while playing piano and receiving the innocent praise of my children did my inferiority complex fade slightly. I still felt like this remained my one redeeming quality.

If my brother had never died that day…

What would have happened if I had continued pursuing becoming a pianist? I might never have reached the world-class heights I had once dreamed of, but perhaps I could have become a first-rate pianist who truly moved people’s hearts.

Yeah, right…

All of it was meaningless speculation—fantasies without foundation—but for me, it was my one precious escape. Perhaps I, too, could have become someone remarkable—someone others respected. Perhaps I, too, could have claimed a place on stage. Such sweet, gentle fantasies consoled me…but even those crumbled into dust the moment I heard my son play piano that day, forcing me to confront the truth I had been hiding from.

“If you need anything, you tell me. If you want to study abroad to learn piano, then I’ll arrange for it.”

“Oh…!”

“Give it everything you’ve got.”

It finally made sense. My father’s words weren’t expectations at all, but pity for a daughter clinging to impossible dreams. My father never truly believed in or expected anything from me.

I was ordinary to my core, destined from birth to amount to nothing, but I didn’t want to know this crushing truth. So, I couldn’t stand him shattering my last illusion. I lamented that he made me so miserable. With that innocent smile of his—with the same eyes as my brother when he praised me…!

“Stop! Just stop!”

It would be a few moments before I even realized that scream had come from my own mouth, but when I saw the emotional strain on my son’s face, I realized what I had done…and by that time, it was already too late.

Chapter 4. And then, Masachika made his decision.

“My father was right. In the end, the only thing someone ordinary like me could do was fulfill my role as a wife and mother.”

Yumi’s tone as she spoke was no longer one of sadness or resignation. Instead, she sounded detached—as if simply recounting facts.

“Yet I wanted more. I envied others. I couldn’t simply be a nice daughter or a cute little sister.”

A faint bitter regret seeped into Yumi’s voice as she spoke while looking at the photograph in Masachika’s hands.

“I couldn’t simply be a good wife or a good mother…and I ended up hurting you and everyone else because of it.”

However, her matter-of-fact tone remained throughout, revealing how that regret had corroded her over the years and clung to her like rust. Most likely, a day hadn’t gone by when she didn’t regret what she had done, and the repeated self-denial had eventually become an established fact within her until she was numb to any emotion. She was constantly tormented by guilt, yet the person she should ask forgiveness from was no longer by her side, leaving her no option but to continue blaming herself…

Yeah… I know how you feel.

To his surprise, Masachika found her emotional state painfully familiar, and now knowing the full story, he felt he had no right to judge her, either. How could I? Just as Yumi couldn’t bear to look directly at her gifted son, Masachika, too, couldn’t face his sister’s brilliant radiance. The only reason the relationship between Masachika and Yuki hadn’t fallen apart was entirely due to Yuki’s efforts.

If…

He wondered what would have happened if he had refused to give up on being a family with Yumi like Yuki had done with him. Even facing envy or rejection, he tried to imagine how things would have played out if he had told his mother that he loved her. If he had kept reaching out to her…things might have been different.

I don’t even need to think about it.

That was how Yuki was still able to maintain her mother-daughter relationship with Yumi—unlike Masachika, who simply lashed out, rejecting her even more harshly than she had rejected him. He never even attempted to understand what drove his mother’s actions. If only, on that day, he could have believed a little more in the kind mother he had always known, then…

“I’m sorry you have a mother like me.”

He at least could have spared his mother from having to say that.

“…!”

He trembled, his throat constricted, and before he knew it, tears were streaming down both cheeks. Masachika couldn’t even identify what triggered them. Was it his mother’s tragic past, the pain in her words, or his regret at forcing her to voice such things? If anything, it was probably all of it.

No!

A strong refusal echoed in his mind. Despite all his resentment toward his mother, Masachika’s heart was now completely rejecting her self-deprecating words and apologies.

No! My mother was always nice to me! Don’t apologize for being my mother!

He had been unable to recall what his mother was like before that day, and only knew her as the woman who awkwardly averted her gaze. But now, memories of the mother who had gently watched over him and his sister came flooding back.

“Nnn…!”

He wanted to deny it. He wanted to reject his mother’s words right then and there, but his lungs and throat wouldn’t allow it. As Masachika clenched his teeth, only sobs escaping, his mother apologized repeatedly.

“Masachika? I’m sorry. I truly am.”

Yumi likely still believed she was unconditionally at fault, despite not even knowing why he was crying, and Masachika now understood why.

Yeah… Grandpa was right.

Masachika’s paternal grandfather, Tomohisa, once said that Masachika and Yumi were alike, and Masachika now understood what he meant. They were similar. Tormented by inferiority toward those close to them, averting their eyes from radiant individuals, denying their own worth—every single thing Yumi had described resonated deeply with Masachika.

But it’s not exactly the same.

Because Masachika had talent and people who believed in him. He was blessed with a kind father and sister who were always on his side as well. But Yumi was different. Because she lacked raw talent, she was scorned by those around her. One after the other, she lost the kind mother and supportive older brother who had always been there for her. In their place, greedy individuals came swarming, targeting the Suou household and its wealth. But even then, Yumi did not run.

And I…ran…

He chose the path of self-preservation, discarding everything that mattered to spare himself pain. His mother, on the other hand, never ran away even after repeated misfortunes and hardships. She continued to push herself, grasping for any thread of hope she could find, even though her efforts were never rewarded. Instead, she was worn down, beaten, and utterly exhausted.

It’s not the same at all…

How many people had truly empathized with and understood Yumi’s suffering? Kyoutarou had claimed that he couldn’t be there when she needed him most, and perhaps there was some truth to that. Those blessed with talent remained blind to the struggles of the ordinary, just as the strong could never fathom the pain of the weak. If so, then Yumi had been truly alone all this time.

And that’s why I can’t truly understand her.

Masachika belonged to the ranks of the talented, yet precisely because he could feel even a glimmer of empathy for Yumi, there must have been words he could offer her, just as Alisa had done for him when he was drowning in regret and denying his entire self-worth.

“…!”

He took a deep breath, regaining control of his lungs and throat, then accepted the tissue Yumi handed him. After wiping his tears and blowing his nose, he took a sip of barley tea, which seemed to sharpen his mind somewhat.

“…”

Masachika gazed into the distance, organizing his thoughts.

“I’ve also…felt nothing but regret ever since I left this house,” he slowly began, his gaze still directed upward.

He could feel Yumi’s gaze turn toward him, but he continued looking upward as he continued to speak.

“I left this place in a fit of emotion, pushing all my responsibilities onto my sickly little sister. I really believed that I was worthless garbage who spends every day in idleness, without any goal or purpose.”

Even now, that feeling remained. Looking back, it felt as if his life had been nothing but a string of shameful moments tied together.

“I sacrificed my own sister’s happiness to get this life, and now, no matter what I do, I can’t even feel proud of myself. I didn’t feel like I deserved to be happy…but then, when I told all that to my student council partner, Alya…”

After lowering his gaze, he looked into Yumi’s eyes and smiled faintly.

“She got mad at me. She told me that I couldn’t regret everything I did…because it led me to her.”

Yumi’s eyes widened slightly.

How long has it been since she truly looked her son in the eye? The thought flickered through Masachika’s mind as he continued.

“I genuinely do feel like I was wasting my life doing nothing…but I met so many people because of what I did, and I learned that I needed to acknowledge that.”

He paused for a moment, then asked with quiet resolve:

“I’m sure it’s no different with you, either, right?”

Though Yumi’s gaze wavered, she didn’t look away.

“Sure, you didn’t become a diplomat…but you never gave up, which is how you met Dad, right?”

Masachika confronted his inner self while he slowly began to weave his words.

“A lot has happened…but I’m happy…because I think I would have never met so many wonderful people, otherwise.”

He had connected with his peers because of what happened. His first love who he only met after fleeing home. His precious sister who was now outgoing and vivacious. His two closest friends from Seirei Academy. His upperclassmen and underclassmen from the student council in middle school. His dependable upperclassmen from the student council in high school. His irreplaceable partner.

Thanks to them, he somehow managed to fill his days with laughter. Even if he had been living a lazy, self-indulgent, shameful life, that still didn’t change how happy he was because of them.

Masachika then offered a small smile, met Yumi’s eyes, and clearly pleaded in a calm voice:

“Please don’t apologize anymore. I need to apologize to you for not understanding what was really going on. Thank you for giving birth to me…and allowing me to meet so many wonderful people.”

“…!”

“Whoops.”

As Masachika stepped out of Yumi’s room, his eyes met Kyoutarou’s in the hallway, and he froze for a moment. However, he swiftly regained his composure, pulled the door shut behind him, then addressed his father curtly, with a touch of awkwardness coloring his tone.

“…I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah, Natsu called me.”

“Oh.”

When he thought about it rationally, it was inevitable that someone would contact his father, since it was clear that he didn’t. It was only natural Kyoutarou would come to pick him up.

“Sorry for worrying you,” apologized Masachika, lowering his head, but he was immediately met with Kyoutarou’s usual gentle smile.

“It’s okay. You needed this, right?” Masachika felt uncomfortable with the trust and tolerance his father showed him—which Kyoutarou seemed to pick up on—shrugging as he added, “But it’s already late…so we should probably stay the night. What do you say?”

“Huh? Oh…”

He wondered how long he had been speaking with his mother and glanced at his phone, only to find that it was already past ten PM. It wasn’t that he couldn’t go home at this hour… In fact, the Masachika of mere hours ago would have made sure he got back home, no matter what. However…

“…Yeah, let’s do that.”

Masachika glanced briefly at the door behind him before nodding. Perhaps sensing something from that gesture, Kyoutarou responded with a tender smile and motioned toward the stairs.

“Great. Nobody’s using your old room, so you can use that. I’ll do the same.”

“Oh… All right.”

“See you soon.”

“…Yep,” Masachika briefly replied, realizing that they were going to have some sort of talk later. As he made his way to the stairs, the sound of Kyoutarou knocking on Yumi’s door echoed behind him, but he didn’t look back as he continued to descend to the first floor where Natsu was surprisingly already waiting.

“Oh, Master Masachika.”

“…Natsu.”

“Have you finished talking with your mother?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Allow me to take you to your room, then.”

Although he obviously knew where his room was, he kept his mouth shut and followed her.

“You don’t have to worry about Lady Yuki. Ayano and I will take good care of her.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank us. This is our job, after all.”

Their conversation carried them to the room, and Masachika stepped inside at Natsu’s gentle insistence. His former bedroom, untouched by his presence for years, remained…exactly as he remembered it, perfectly preserved in the state it had been in years ago.

“Please make yourself at home. You can use the bath whenever you want, and you have a fresh change of clothes waiting for you as well, thanks to your father.”

“Oh, thanks…”

“Not at all. Just let me know if you need anything,” Natsu replied, before exiting the room, leaving Masachika alone to look around one more time.

“…”

The room had muted wallpaper and furniture in subdued tones. The bookshelves weren’t lined with picture books or comics but various study materials. It was a space drained of childhood whimsy and joy. By contrast, Masachika’s current room was far more childlike.

“…I wonder why they left the room like this?”

The room would have served perfectly as a guest room, yet the elementary and middle school textbooks on the bookshelf, along with the small step stool positioned before them, revealed it had remained untouched.

“Maybe for Yuki’s future children?” he muttered, voicing an assumption that he didn’t even believe as he settled onto the bed. The urge to collapse backward tugged at him, but he hesitated to completely relax just yet, because he still couldn’t quite bring himself to see this room as his own.

Everything happened so fast…

First, he went to Alisa’s birthday party and formally introduced himself to her parents. Then, he unexpectedly shared his past with Alisa, and what began as simply visiting the Suou family household led to his first conversation with his mother in years. Before long, he even found himself spending the night.

“If you told me that this was going to happen this morning, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

It didn’t actually feel real. A dull heat pulsed through his head while his body drifted in a restless weightlessness. He wondered if this was because he had cried, or if his mind had simply buckled under the day’s whirlwind of events.

“I guess it’s only natural to feel this way. So much has happened in just a few hours,” muttered Masachika, surrendering to exhaustion as he toppled backward onto the bed, where he was embraced by the firm mattress and soft duvet. It was as if his room had been frozen in time, even though it was clearly being cleaned, seeing as there wasn’t a single speck of dust.

“…”

The cool sheets touching his neck felt strangely pleasant as he found himself gazing up at the ceiling he had known so well in his childhood.

“I’m really back…”

The familiar scent, the familiar sights, the familiar touch—his entire body was immersed in those familiar sensations, their reality slowly seeping into his consciousness. He couldn’t help but marvel at how much had changed in a mere few hours.

But…

In other words, Masachika could have transformed everything in those same few hours if he had simply found the courage to take that first step. His lifelong feud with his mother, one he had assumed would never be mended, could have been resolved at any time and in less than half a day if he had simply put in the effort.

“Well…it hasn’t exactly been resolved.”

Masachika himself hadn’t completely put to rest his lingering resentment toward Yumi. His earlier words of forgiveness and gratitude weren’t lies, at least in his mind, but his heart still didn’t align with his mind’s decision to forgive yet. His negative impression of her had hardened over years, so it appeared that it was going to be a while before it went away.

And Yumi likely hadn’t rid herself of her guilt yet, either. He knew she wasn’t the kind of person who could be told to stop apologizing and simply agree—as if she could forget everything that had happened. If anything, she was most likely wondering how she could have done something so horrible to such a nice person. Masachika understood she probably did feel this way, because that was the kind of person he was, too.

It’s in Dad’s hands now, I guess…

He closed his eyes, contemplating these thoughts…picturing his father, who was likely talking with his mother at that very moment.

“Oh… So Masachika…”

After listening to Yumi’s account of her interaction with Masachika, Kyoutarou slowly nodded. Yumi sat across from him, face downcast, speaking haltingly and with a touch of self-deprecation.

“He has grown to become such a sweet, intelligent young man… You raised him well…”

“Ha-ha! I don’t know if I deserve any credit. You know how I am. I’m pretty hands-off when it comes to parenting.” Kyoutarou chuckled, a stark contrast to Yumi’s somber tone.

“I believe that parents should simply watch over their children and support them, and all we really need to do is take responsibility for whenever they cause trouble. The reason Masachika grew up to be such a nice young man is because of how he chose to live…and because of the great people he surrounds himself with.”

“…Really? I suppose you’re right… Yuki’s also…” Yumi paused, then lifted her head and looked out the window. “Why couldn’t I have been more like my mother…? Why couldn’t I just think like she did…?”

She let out the whisper filled with regret while gazing into the distant past.

“Being blessed with such wonderful children, all I needed to do was feel proud to be their mother and enjoy watching them grow. That’s all I needed to do, so why…?”

“It’s not too late,” Kyoutarou stated, clearly and with conviction.

“…Do you really think so?”

“I know so. Even Masachika has forgiven you. And I don’t need to tell you how much Yuki loves you.”

“B-but…,” Yumi stammered, before glancing at Kyoutarou, but he knew exactly what she wanted to say and gently smiled.

“I’ve never resented you, not even once.” He held Yumi’s hands on her lap, gazing into her eyes, and declared, “Besides, you keep saying that I’m an incredible person…but I’m really not. I’m just a little better at studying than the average person. That’s all. That’s why I worked as hard as I could to become the kind of man you deserve. I wanted to be good enough for you.”

“Good enough for me? I was just born into a wealthy family. There’s nothing particularly special about me, though…”

“Ha-ha-ha. You’re the only one who thinks that, Yumi. You have no idea how many guys wanted to ask you out back in high school.”

“That was only because I was the sole heir to the Suou family…”

“That was only a small percentage of them. You may have not realized this, but you were way out of my league back then.”

At least for Kyoutarou, that was the truth. He met a girl playing the piano, tears streaming down her face in the music room, and was captivated at first sight. Yet what he learned from his peers was that he had no chance with her. As the daughter of the esteemed Suou family, Yumi’s cultured, graceful, and elegant demeanor truly lived up to her reputation. Her feminine figure and melancholic beauty stirred endless desire among young men, igniting both protective and possessive instincts in them. And among all of those suitors, Kyoutarou had the least to offer her.

“I was a boy from a small, middle-class family, and the only thing I had going for me was my grades. I didn’t have status or money. I was average looking. I wasn’t even very good at sports, and I didn’t have any skills to be proud of. You were way too good for me. I only became a diplomat because I felt it was the bare minimum that I was able to do to be worthy of you…”

In truth, he had once set his sights on joining the First Light Committee, just like Gensei, but that ambition never came into fruition. Therefore, for Kyoutarou, becoming a diplomat represented a basic requirement to earn his place at Yumi’s side.

“So you don’t need to feel guilty about anything, because everything I did, I did it so I could marry you.”

“K-Kyoutarou…”

He knelt before Yumi, who sat frozen with her eyes opened wide. Then, looking directly up at Yumi in the moonlight, he said:

“Yumi, I—”

Knock, knock, knock.

“…!”

Masachika’s eyes snapped open at the sound, and he immediately realized he had fallen asleep. A sudden surge of awkwardness and embarrassment sat him straight up, prompting him to quickly reply.

“Yes?”

“I’m coming in, okay?” Kyoutarou announced, before he opened the door and stepped inside.

He noticed Masachika sitting on the bed with the bedding behind him indented in the shape of a person but said nothing. Instead, he simply took a seat in the chair in front of his son’s study desk.

“Your mother told me about your talk. Thank you for forgiving her.”

“…Yeah,” Masachika curtly replied, then pondered for a moment.

“…I guess, after talking, I realized Mom was just an ordinary person like me. I know that sounds weird, but you know what I mean.”

He narrowed his eyes, gazing at the ceiling and recalling the days he had spent in this house.

“You can reason with anyone if you simply talk to them. I knew that, but…”

That was what his grandfather, Gensei, had taught him, preparing him to become a diplomat in the future, and that was exactly why he couldn’t help but wonder why he had assumed his own mother was any different.

I never even considered working things out with her. Trying to talk things through wasn’t even an option. But then…what about Gensei? If that logic held, it would mean there was room for discussion with even his grandfather, who seemed nothing more than a stubborn rationalist to Masachika.

I need more than just some room for discussion, don’t I?

After all, Masachika was not interested in chatting with Gensei but negotiating and coming to a compromise.

“…Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“From your point of view…what kind of person is Grandfather?”

Though his son’s question was sudden, Kyoutarou didn’t question him. Instead, he thought for a moment before clearly stating his answer.

“He’s a man with conviction, I guess you could say.” He paused for a moment, then continued with certainty. “He cherishes the prosperity and survival of this family more than anything else…and he continues to walk this path like it’s his destiny.”

That was something Masachika could understand…or rather, it perfectly aligned with his own impression. However, in his mind, it carried the negative connotation of being a cold rationalist who prioritizes upholding that belief above all else. Kyoutarou, however, furrowed his brow slightly, as if he could read his son’s mind, and added:

“Don’t get the wrong idea, though. It’s not that he doesn’t love his family. Far from it. He cares about his family in his own way… He wouldn’t let Yuki come over to our place as often as he does, otherwise, right?”

“…”

That was something Masachika had considered as well. Despite forbidding Masachika himself from claiming to be Yuki’s brother, Gensei tacitly allowed Yuki to treat Masachika as her brother, which Masachika found to be a surprisingly lenient response from his grandfather.

But…

He couldn’t help wondering if this was the “carrot” in some calculated carrot-and-stick strategy to keep Yuki on track, but Masachika dismissed that cynical notion for now. This was his father speaking, after all, and he wanted to cast aside his prejudices and trust him.

“But even then…he still cares about the family name more than anything else, right?”

“…Well, yeah. I can’t deny that.”

“Got it.” Masachika nodded. It wasn’t that he was disappointed. Rather, it was quite the opposite, since this would be far more convenient for him at the moment.

“Dad.”

“Hmm?”

“I—”

Masachika took a deep breath, gathered his resolve, and shared his intentions with his father: what he was planning to do from there on out and what he truly wanted for his future. It was a pivotal choice—one that would shape the course of his life—and Kyoutarou listened in silence until the end.

“So… What do you think?”

After spilling his heart out, Masachika looked at his father, his gaze full of anxiety and tension. Kyoutarou, however…

“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea. Don’t worry about me. Just do what you think is right.”

…accepted his son for who he was and gently smiled, just like he always did.

Chapter 5. And then, the pretense became the real thing.

The next morning, a peculiar tension lingered over the breakfast table in the Suou family’s antique dining room. Seated at the long table were Gensei Suou, the head of the household; his daughter, Yumi; her ex-husband, Kyoutarou; and Masachika, their son who had practically been disowned from the family by his grandfather. Anyone familiar with their relationships would have stared in disbelief at the sight. Yet ten minutes in, the meal had been unfolding surprisingly calmly without any particular drama.

“By the way Gensei, I used the advice you gave me at last month’s meeting, and it really helped. The discussion went very smoothly after that.”

“Really? Glader is still the same?”

“If anything, he was in an even better mood than usual, now that he has a grandson.”

However, only Kyoutarou and Gensei had been conversing; Masachika and Yumi simply ate their meal in silence. Natsu and Ayano were similarly subdued, quietly serving the family and performing their duties while blending into the background.

“Would you like another slice of bread, Master Masachika?” Ayano offered.

“No, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

“As you wish.”

It was a quiet, seamless inquiry that didn’t interrupt the flow of the conversation. Her movements were graceful and efficient as she managed to stay out of sight as well. It was the mark of a true professional, thoroughly erasing her presence while perfectly fulfilling her duties. No one could have guessed she had spent the night tending to Yuki alongside Natsu; at only fifteen years old, Ayano had already reached a remarkable level of grace and competence. However…

“…! ♡”

If only she hadn’t faintly trembled after exchanging words with Masachika…

Ayano really can’t hide her “excitement,” huh? I can smell it from here.

Ayano’s face remained as expressionless as ever, yet to Masachika, her entire presence radiated a silent, overwhelming joy that practically declared, “I’m serving Master Masachika right now!” Even now, he could vaguely sense her sparkling eyes behind him, lost in the afterglow while staring into space. To Ayano, the chance to fully devote herself to Masachika right then seemed far more important than the historic fact that Gensei and Masachika were sharing a meal together for the first time in years.

But, well, I guess I’m kind of grateful that she never changes. Blank expression. Devoted. Silent. Maid. Once a subservient maid, always a subservient maid, I guess.

Masachika chuckled to himself at the fleeting thought, then immediately composed himself.

Whoops. Getting a little too relaxed there, Masachika. Eh, nobody’s looking though, so I guess I’m fine.

He shrugged slightly while watching Gensei and Kyoutarou converse. However…

“Masachika? What’s going on?”

The sudden address made Masachika’s eyes widen, and he turned around. He wasn’t the only one caught off guard, either. Gensei and Kyoutarou momentarily paused their conversation. Though they quickly picked back up where they left off as if nothing had happened, their exchange now carried a faintly strained, unnatural tone. Masachika, however, didn’t have the mental energy to care about their demeanor right now as he stared intently at Yumi, tilting his head.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You… You looked like you were kind of smiling for a moment,” replied Yumi, her eyes still drifting somewhat as she tried to return her son’s gaze. Masachika was so taken aback he fell speechless for a moment, but with no time to put up a front, he honestly replied:

“Oh, it’s just… Ayano is acting so giddy that I couldn’t help myself…”

“…?!”

He sensed Ayano tense up behind him as Yumi’s gaze shifted in her direction.

“Ayano? Really?”

“Yes. I’m just so happy to get the chance to serve Master Masachika here that I guess I was acting a little strangely. I apologize.”

“No, it’s nothing to apologize for…”

Yumi wore a slightly awkward expression as Ayano earnestly bowed her head, prompting Natsu to suddenly speak up as if to smooth things over.

“Ayano? It’s okay to take your duties seriously, but you shouldn’t apologize. You should show that you’re embarrassed.”

“‘Embarrassed’…? Okay.”

Maintaining her usual impassive expression, Ayano placed both hands on her cheeks, but after a brief moment of contemplation, she struck a slightly more flirty pose.

“Po…” She made a popping sound with her mouth.

“Who are you, Lady Hasshaku?”

“Who?”

“Nothing.”

“…??”

Ayano looked as if a question mark were floating over her head, drawing a quiet chuckle from Kyoutarou.

“You two get along so well.”

“…Well, we did grow up together,” replied Masachika as he stole a glance at Gensei, but his grandfather showed no sign of displeasure as he continued eating in silence. That alone brought Masachika a sense of relief, since it seemed like a little joking around didn’t bother him.

Still, Masachika remained alert, waiting for just the right moment to speak, and when the post-meal coffee arrived, he started to brace himself. What mattered now was not losing sight of his role. He wasn’t here as Gensei’s grandson, but as Yuki’s schoolmate. With that in mind, he carefully began to choose his words.

“Mr. Suou.”

The way Masachika addressed Gensei caused a subtle shift in the room’s atmosphere. Yumi and Natsu frowned at his formal tone, their eyes darting between Gensei and Masachika. Kyoutarou, however, remained composed.

“What is it?” asked Gensei, his expression unchanged.

“I apologize, because I know this is sudden, but could I have thirty minutes of your time?”

“…Very well.” Gensei nodded as he stood up without even touching the coffee he had been served.

“Let’s go somewhere else to talk. Bring the coffee to my office,” Gensei demanded, glaring intently down at Masachika while Natsu picked up the tray.

“As you wish.”

“Come.”

And with that, he turned and briskly walked away without even waiting for a reply. Flustered, Masachika rose quickly, but carefully so as not to appear poor-mannered. However, as he passed behind his father, he felt a light pat on his lower back.

“…!”

When Masachika glanced down, he was met with Kyoutarou’s usual kind expression and a reassuring nod. He immediately replied with a grateful nod of his own, then exited the room, following Gensei.

Oops. I probably should have left the door open for Natsu.

The thought struck him the instant he heard Natsu leaving the room with their coffee a few moments later. His usual thoughtfulness had abandoned him entirely, a telltale sign that he was nervous.

But the fact I realized that means that I’m still not completely panicking…

Analyzing himself from this detached perspective, Masachika trailed Gensei into the study, then held the door open for Natsu.

“Thank you, Mr. Masachika.”

“No problem.”

“Pardon me.”

After bowing at the doorway, Natsu looked toward Gensei, then placed the two cups of coffee on the desk he was standing behind.

“I’m going to place your coffee here, okay?”

“Thanks,” muttered Gensei, his back turned to them.

“My pleasure.”

A few seconds after Natsu exited the room with the empty tray, Gensei slowly turned to face Masachika.

“So? What do you want?”

His grandfather’s cold eyes shone with a hard glint, utterly devoid of even a sliver of affection for his own grandson. Yet Masachika also sensed no hostility or revulsion for the one who fled this house, either, so he was mollified.

“I’m going to get straight to the point. I want to be reinstated as the Suou family successor,” he announced, his voice filled with resolve as he uttered the words that would determine his future.

It was a firm decision Masachika had made the night before as he held his sick little sister in his arms. No more could he sit back and watch her suffer because of his selfishness. No more would his sister have to bear the responsibilities that rightfully should have been his. After all, it didn’t matter if someone like him, empty of passion and dreams, became shackled to this place. If his sacrifice could set Yuki free, then binding his life to within these walls was a small price to pay.

“…” Gensei’s eyebrow twitched at the demand as the atmosphere around him shifted. The polite host who had welcomed his granddaughter’s school friend into his home had vanished, replaced by the iron-willed head of the Suou family. Then, with a voice clearly gaining weight and intimidation, he said, “I have treated you as a schoolmate of my granddaughter’s since you stopped by yesterday. Are you making your demand with a full understanding of what that means?”

“Of course,” Masachika replied, straightforward and unfazed. Gensei, however, took a few steps closer, his gaze boring down on Masachika while radiating an intense aura.

“Then I will start treating you as a boy who has abandoned his family. You realize that you have no right to complain, even if I kick you out right now?”

Masachika endured Gensei’s crushing presence at point-blank range—the kind that would make even a grown man crumble—yet he didn’t flinch as he returned his gaze. In fact, he was actually relieved, because this confirmed that there was no lingering animosity or disgust in his grandfather’s eyes. This intimidation was mere theater. The man towering over him was first and foremost a calculating realist, and that meant there was nothing to fear.

“But even then, you’re not going to kick me out, because you understand that my proposal could benefit the Suou family.”

Gensei studied him in silence, taking in the young man’s unwavering stance and bold declaration. The seconds stretched taut between them before Gensei finally turned on his heel, circled to the far side of his desk, sat down in his creaking chair, and clasped his hands over the desktop. Then, slightly softening his intimidating aura, he said:

“All right, let’s hear it. How could the Suou family possibly benefit by accepting you back into the family?”

Masachika approached the desk, then plainly stated:

“It’s simple. With me, you get a more talented successor than Yuki to take over the family.”

Gensei narrowed his eyes at the young man’s audacity, leaning back in his chair before quietly and matter-of-factly replying:

“Yes, in terms of natural talent, Yuki cannot even compare to you.” He genuinely acknowledged Masachika’s genius, then coldly declared, “But that’s your only redeeming quality. For the past six years, Yuki has consistently exceeded my expectations. But you? What have you accomplished since leaving this house?”

It was like he knew of Masachika’s lazy, self-indulgent lifestyle, and he relentlessly continued as if he could see right through his grandson.

“You, who have learned nothing, refined none of your skills, and improved nothing about yourself? You, who have let the talent you were born with go to waste while you continued to neglect your duty as someone gifted? Does this sound like someone who is going to become a more suitable successor than Yuki? The arrogance,” barked Gensei dismissively, before changing his demeanor and speaking in a more indifferent manner.

“In addition, you already abandoned this family once. Inviting you back into the family would be disrespecting Yuki—the current successor—and my decision as the head of the Suou family, and I would never do anything to tarnish the Suou family name.”

But Masachika’s reply was simple, brief, and to the point.

“Now, that’s a lie. If you really felt that way, then you would have immediately kicked me off the property and never even taken the time to hear me out.”

Once he directly refuted Gensei’s assertion, he proceeded to explain his reasoning.

“Inviting me back into the family isn’t going to tarnish the Suou family name, because this family is known as a meritocracy that believes in rationalism.”

Masachika’s assessment of Gensei as a cold rationalist wasn’t mere personal observation. Not only Gensei, but the entire Suou clan was regarded by the nation’s elite as brilliantly calculating yet ruthlessly detached—a family that didn’t allow personal feelings to cloud their judgement, even within their own ranks.

In fact, after Masachika left home, Gensei had treated him as though he had never even existed. No matter how much he had doted on his grandson long ago, he ruthlessly erased his very existence the instant he became an outsider. This cold-bloodedness was the essence of the Suou family, so even if the successor’s position shifted from Yuki to Masachika, the act itself wouldn’t tarnish the Suou family’s reputation. All that mattered was if the decision was logical.

“I abandoned this family once? What’s important to you—to the Suou family—is who is a more suitable successor.”

Neither affirming nor denying the assertion, Gensei flatly replied:

“Even then, that still doesn’t mean you’re qualified to become my successor. You have accomplished nothing. You are not even worth considering.”

“While I admit I have been wasting my life away ever since leaving this house…it’s not like I haven’t accomplished anything, and I produce results that even you’ll be impressed with.”

Masachika then placed his hands on the desktop, met Gensei’s gaze firmly, and asserted:

“I will use my experience and connections from supporting Yuki as the vice president in middle school to get Alisa Kujou elected as the student council president. Then, I will take Yuki’s place in the First Light Committee. That’s how I’m going to prove to you that I’m worthy.”

He wasn’t going to appeal to emotion, since that would be pointless with Gensei.

“I’m going to win the election a second time with a different partner, which will secure my spot in the committee. Meanwhile, Yuki will fall short in the election without my support and thus lose her spot in the committee. Once that happens, it should be plain as day which of us is more suitable to take over the family.”

He wouldn’t grovel, either, since that wasn’t how Gensei had taught him to negotiate. Instead, he kept his head high, met Gensei’s gaze directly, and repeated:

“So again, I want you to make me your successor once I defeat Yuki in the election and am accepted into the First Light Committee.”

Gensei held his grandson’s gaze as silence stretched between them, then slowly responded:

“…Very well.”

“…!”

“If you claim victory over Yuki in the election and prove you are worthy for the First Light Committee…then I will welcome you back into the Suou family.”

Masachika nearly surrendered to relief…until Gensei uttered a single, devastating word, “However,” instantly forcing his grandson to brace himself once more.

“I will still not make you my successor just yet, though. This will merely put you on equal footing with Yuki.”

In other words, he was only being placed at the starting line of the succession race, but that was fine. Yuki likely had no interest in leading the Suou family, nor any burning desire to become a diplomat. And with no reason to compete, it would simply be a matter of Yuki willingly withdrawing herself from the race.

“That’s fine.”

Masachika truly felt relief this time, but he didn’t let it show as he comfortably sat up straight and nodded. However, the conversation wasn’t over yet.

“In addition, you cannot run for vice president.”

“…What?”

“If you want to defeat Yuki, then you have to fight for the same position as her. That much should be obvious.”

Gensei’s demeanor made it clear to his speechless grandson that this was non-negotiable.

“If you win the election, successfully manage the student council as president for one year, and are able to be accepted into the First Light Committee, then and only then will I acknowledge you as a candidate to become my successor.”

“…”

The steady ticking of a clock echoed through the quiet room. After his conversation with Gensei, Masachika stopped by Yuki’s room and quietly checked up on his sleeping sister. According to Ayano, who, alongside Natsu, had stayed up all night caring for her, Yuki had briefly woken at dawn, and her fever had apparently subsided enough for her to be able to think clearly. Her complexion did seem much better than yesterday as well, and her breathing had settled into a peaceful rhythm.

The medicine seems to be working…

But just as gratitude for the now-napping Ayano warmed his chest, Yuki’s eyes suddenly fluttered open.

“…”

She gazed vacantly at the ceiling, her dry lips slowly forming words.

“And that’s the dream I had.”

“What?”

“So I was training to be a shrine priestess to exorcise demons, and what appeared to be just a regular bamboo broom that they gave me turned out to be one of the spears of Longinus that had been used to execute the underground Christians.”

“All right, now I’ve gotta hear more about this dream!” Masachika jested, leaning forward. Yuki, however, ignored his remark as she continued to gaze intently at the ceiling.

“…I know this ceiling.”

“That’s it?!”

Masachika was completely thrown off by his sister’s sudden return to form, momentarily even forgetting his conversation with Gensei as he got caught up in her theatrics. With a mischievous grin, Yuki tossed off her covers, sprang to her feet, and unraveled her braided hair, dramatically sweeping it back like a jet-black cloak. Exuding an air of grandeur, she then placed her hands on her hips, puffed out her chest, and declared in a defiant stance:

“The seal has been broken!!”

“No, some of your powers are still sealed away, so you need to lie down.”

“What am I? Some sort of demon?”

“You’re a malevolent god.”

“Hmm. Okay, I’ll take it. Now, go fetch me a glass of water, peasant.”

“Don’t push it. I can seal your powers away again if I have to.”

“Heh! I’d like to see you try.”

Yuki scoffed, gazing down at him from her lofty perch, but in one swift motion, Masachika snatched up the comforter and wrapped his sister into a human sushi roll in three seconds flat. She blinked once in stunned confusion, then immediately began thrashing about like a caterpillar on its back.

“Gaaah!! How dare you, an inferior being, do this to—!”

“It’s a common trope for godlike beings that look down on humans to lose in the end.”

“Grrr! You’ll pay! I’ll make you pay… Even if it takes eons, I will rise again, and when I do, the world will—”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s enough.”

“Mmmph?!”

He promptly smothered his sister with a pillow to silence her continued theatrics. However…

“‘Eek! He’s going to kill me! He’s going to suffocate me and make it look like an accident! You’re not going to get your hands on my inheritance even if you kill me!’”

“When did this turn into a thriller?”

Yuki started yet another performance, prompting Masachika to yank the pillow away. Then, with a long sigh and a hint of exasperation, he muttered:

“Seriously, though, you’re still sick, so you need to lie down. Your throat is hurting, right?” Masachika asked earnestly.

“Mn… Yeah.” Yuki stuck out her lower lip and nodded, then let out a sigh of resignation. “Fine. I’ll be good, so can you unwrap me already?”

“Nope. Because if I do, you’ll just start jumping around again.”

“Then are you fine if I do it here?”

“Do what?”

“Hint: golden shower.”

“No!”

Masachika began yanking the comforter back, causing Yuki to cry, “Oh, myyy” as she spun across the bed before gracefully landing by the bedside, where she planted her feet and stood up with her arms slightly angled in the air. She then glanced back at him over her shoulder, clearly fishing for a reaction.

“…I’m not going to give you a score. It wasn’t even that impressive.”

“Tsk. Would it have been better if I undressed while spinning, then posed completely naked?”

“You’d have been immediately disqualified. Now, hurry up and go pee.”

“In your room?”

“In the toilet!”

Watching his sister cackle her way out of the room, Masachika sighed in a mixture of exasperation and relief, then took out his phone to text Ayano that Yuki had woken up. After that, he poured some water from the pitcher into the glass he had brought earlier and waited until Yuki quickly returned, apparently having washed her face as well.

“Ah, I feel like a new woman.”

“Here. It’s water.”

“Thanks.”

Yuki took the glass from his hand and downed it in one gulp.

“Ahhh, that hit the spot… Hmm?” Then, looking at her brother’s face, she blinked and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“You’re just now wondering that?! We talked last night, you know?!”

“In the bathroom?”

“Here! Why would we be talking in the bathroom?!”

“Maybe to pee?”

“I’m not sure a guy and a girl could manage that with only one toilet.”

“We did (suggestive).”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s enough already.”

“Heh. You gotta keep quiet, Bro, or someone’s going to hear us.”

“Enough already!”

“Uh-huh. Now, have a seat right there… Heh. Good job. That’s a good boy.”

“Listen—”

“Heh-heh! I think you’re ready to graduate from your diapers.”

“Oh, is this some sort of potty-training session for toddlers? My apologies.”

“What’d you think this was?”

“…Caregiving for the elderly.”

“Now, that’s a stretch, Bro.”

“Just shut up, or I’m going to turn you into a burrito again.”

“Heh! Do you really think I would fall for the same trick twice? Don’t you dare underestimate—”

Burrito-ed.

“…I’m hot.

“Well, you need to sweat a little. You just had some water, too.”

“Interesting. You’re trying to make me sweat so that you can trigger the sponge-bath scene, huh?”

“Could you at least turn off your otaku brain when you’re sick?”

“Wish I could, but I already asked Ayano to bring us a warm bucket of water and a towel!”

“Did you hit your head when you left for the bathroom?” Masachika replied, followed immediately by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he responded, prompting Ayano to come inside carrying a basin of hot water and a towel.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting, Lady Yuki.”

“Ayano, perfect timing.”

“My pleasure.”

“Hold up. I thought you were taking a nap.”

“I already finished. I’m okay now.”

“No, go back to sleep. You only slept for four hours last night, right? I’ll take care of Yuki,” assured Masachika as he took the basin and towel from her hands and placed them by the bed. Ayano’s eyes, however, began to wander in a troubled manner.

“But…”

“Ayano, my brother said he wanted to wash my body all by himself.”

“…! Very well. I will return to my room, then.”

“How can you even think I’d ever say something like that?!”

Ayano swiftly left the room as if she hadn’t even heard Masachika’s retort, but as he stood there in disbelief at her swiftness, he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve. Immediately, he turned to the side to find Yuki perched on the bed in a coy pose, looking up at him while bashfully tilting her head.

“Dear brother? Could you wash my back?”

“How long have you been free?”

“Heh! My resistance went up after the second time, so I was able to break free even faster. I’m pretty sure this is common sense.”

“Yeah, in a video game. Since when did you stop being human?”

“What? I’m so cute that it’s hard to believe I’m human?”

“Nah, you’re no Alya or Masha. You look human.”

“Hmm? Did you just bring up other women in front of me?”

“Yeah? So what?”

“Groin punch!”

“Hey—?!”

A light tap to the groin instinctively sent Masachika lurching back, bending at the waist. Though there was no force behind it, the chilling sensation of having such a sensitive area smacked still made him shoot Yuki a resentful glare, but her eyes immediately began to well with tears as she clutched the comforter tightly, trembling.

“Big Brother? What’s wrong…? You’re scaring me… This isn’t you… Please go back to being the nice big brother I used to know…”

“‘What’s wrong’? You punched me in the groin, you punk.”

“The what? What’s that? Cough! Hack! You’re not making any sense…”

“So now you’re playing the sick card, huh?”

“I have no idea…what you’re saying… Cough, cough…”

Masachika closed his reproachful eyes, sighed at his overdramatic sister, then slowly muttered:

“A character who was described as the ‘little sister’ in the synopsis and her profile, but once the story begins, it’s revealed that she’s actually the protagonist’s stepsister.”

“Do you wanna die tonight, ya little punk?!”

Yuki instantly dropped her innocent little girl act and lunged at Masachika. Kneeling on the bed, she seized her brother’s collar with both hands, staring at him with crazed, wide eyes, and menacingly whispered in his face:

“Listen, scum… There’s nothing wrong with stepsisters. They’re fine. If she’s a stranger who became a stepsister after the protagonists’ parents got remarried, then that’s fine. If she was adopted by the family when she was young and raised as family but ends up wanting to get married to the protagonist still, then that’s fine, too. But…you need to clearly write ‘stepsister’ in the synopsis right off the bat. Don’t go out of your way to make us think she’s the main character’s biological sister, only to reveal she’s not.”

“All right, you’re getting way too worked up. You’re starting to scare me.”

“Tsk. If you’re lookin’ for a fight, I’ll give ya one.”

“What are you threatening me for?”

As Masachika met her intense stare with calm indifference, his collar still gripped in her hands, Yuki suddenly murmured:

“A companion monster character that suddenly starts speaking fluent human tongue the moment it evolves or gains some sort of telepathy skill.”

“I’m gonna rip your head off!!” He immediately grabbed his sister’s collar in return, rose to his feet, and glared down into her wide eyes as he menacingly muttered, “Listen, scum… Dragons and the like are fine. They usually end up speaking at some point and might even take human form from time to time, so they’re acceptable. But small- to medium-sized creatures, like mascot characters that sit on the protagonist’s head or shoulder, are off limits. If they’re going to end up talking, then make them talk from the very beginning. Don’t start making some creature that could originally only squeak start talking like a person. Making everything human-like isn’t always a good thing. Smart, cute pets and familiar companions are two completely different categories. Know your place!”

“Take a breather, Bro. I got it already.”

Masachika and Yuki, each bringing up the other’s pet peeve, glared intensely at each other.

“Hey, Sis.”

“Yeah, Bro?”

“I know I started this, but I feel like this exchange isn’t going to benefit either one of us.”

“True that.”

Immediately, they simultaneously released their grips and straightened their collars. Then, after exhaling a long breath to compose themselves, they resumed their conversation as if nothing had happened.

“Anyway, yeah. You’re right. Alya and Masha are cute…and they’re getting prettier every day. It’s getting to the point that it’s hard to believe they’re even human.”

“Hmm? They’re getting prettier? You really think so?”

“How can you not tell? Everyone’s talking about it at school.”

“Wait. Seriously? I honestly had no idea.”

But Masachika stopped himself just after saying that and began to trace his memories.

Now that she mentions it…

He actually had recalled hearing rumors that Alisa had gotten more beautiful lately. However, he had assumed that meant she had become somewhat more approachable, since she was smiling more and seemed more cheerful—something along those lines. But…

I guess Alya and Masha…have been getting even cuter lately? Maybe?

However, he had assumed that was all in his head—that he only saw them this way because he was strongly aware of their affection and because he started to view them differently as well…

“People are saying that they must have started dating someone or, at the very least, are in love.”

“…!”

“Of course, they’re only rumors… What do you think, though?”

“Beats me,” replied Masachika with a straight face, causing Yuki’s eyes to snap open wide as she slapped the bed.

“Don’t play dumb! You let the cat out of the bag long ago!”

“Can I pet him?”

“No! You realize I’m the only person who can play along with your stupid jokes like this, right?”

“Sounds like we’re two peas in a pod to me.”

“Oh, stop. You’re making me blush.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re so cute,” muttered Masachika in a monotone voice while his sister covered her cheeks, squirming from side to side. Yuki then flashed a triumphant grin and sprang to her feet.

“Heh! Of course, I am! The power of love makes people cuter? A pathetic buff like that is meaningless before me! It doesn’t matter how much cuter Alya gets! She stands no chance against my perfectly calculated cuteness!”

“So you admit it’s calculated.”

“Of course, I do! I’d be terrified if I ever met someone that naturally acted like this.”

“I met someone like that once. She’s actually right in front of me now.”

“Yes… Habits are incredible things, aren’t they? It was all an act at first, yet before I knew it, this became the real me…”

A touch of sorrow clouded Yuki’s gaze as she stared into the distance. Masachika frowned a bit, perhaps realizing who she had done that for, and wrung out the towel soaked in hot water.

“Anyway, come on. Let me clean you up.”

“Hooray!” squealed Yuki as she turned her back to Masachika and sat down with a soft thump. She then removed her pajama top, leaving her upper body bare. With her left arm draped modestly across her chest, and her right hand lifting her hair to reveal her nape, she cast a glance back at him over her shoulder and snickered, “Oh, myyy… This is so scaaandalous. So sexyyy!”

“Until you opened your mouth, at least.”

With a note of exasperation creeping into his voice, Masachika began wiping Yuki’s back with the damp towel, but the moment it touched her skin, she jolted upright with a sudden shiver.

“Hyah! Oooh!”

“Are those supposed to be animal sounds?”

“Ahn! ♡ My back…is really sensitive…you know…! Ahn! ♡”

“Stop moaning.”

“Ahhh! That’s the spot! Yes…! Yesss, deary!”

“Stop acting like an old lady.”

“Ahhh… That feels so good…”

“Stop melting.”

“H-hey! Don’t touch that!”

“Stop dodging.”

“I—I hate to admit it…but this is heaven…!”

“Stop dying.”

“Ah! I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before…”

“Stop feeling that way.”

“Ha-ha! You’re hilarious.”

“Really?”

“You’re supposed to say, ‘Stop laughing!’ Idiot!” Yuki reprimanded sharply, prompting her brother to immediately apologize.

“Sorry!!”

She glared at her sibling, then snatched the towel right from his hand and began wiping down her left arm herself.

“As your punishment, I’m not going to let you wash my front side.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You say that, yet I caught you glancing at my armpit. Check it out.”

“Ew. No.”

“By the way, do you know anything about Alya’s and Masha’s love interest?”

“I told you already. No.”

Though caught off guard and slightly flustered, Masachika doubled down on pretending he didn’t know anything. But when he felt the weight of Yuki’s unwavering stare boring into him from over her shoulder, his heart skipped a beat.

“All right, if you say so.”

“…”

As if she could see straight through him, Yuki’s demeanor left Masachika unable to even question her behavior. Instead, he fell silent…until he abruptly changed the subject.

“Oh, hey. Speaking of Alya…”

“Hmm?”

“…Could you not just casually take your pants off like that?”

“Why? How am I going to clean myself with my pants on?” Yuki replied as she slipped off her pants and got on her knees to wipe her backside and thighs, then sat back down and cleaned her legs as well.

“Here. Pass.”

She immediately tossed the used towel over her shoulder at Masachika.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what the other person’s supposed to say,” he pointed out, effortlessly catching the towel that came flying at him, then dropping it into the washbasin. When he looked up again, however, Yuki had already turned completely around to face him on the bed, grinning mischievously while covering her chest with both arms.

“Secret technique: conceal the chest, reveal the stomach.”

“What kind of move is that?”

“The naive young lady was so desperate to hide her chest that she failed to realize her stomach was completely exposed, immediately stimulating the man’s carnal desires.”

“‘Naive’? More like ‘degenerate.’”

Yuki immediately and furiously slapped the bed with both hands.

“Who are you callin’ a degenerate!”

“You.”

“And yet, you’re the one who can’t take his eyes off my chest.”

“Just shut up, and put some clothes on already.”

“Fiiine,” Yuki replied cutely, slipping on her slippers before she headed over to the closet wearing nothing but a pair of panties.

“At least pretend you’re embarrassed.”

Without making the slightest effort to cover herself, Yuki confidently walked past her brother. She seemed genuinely unbothered as well, despite the fact that Masachika was muttering his objections while averting his gaze. And just like that, she casually slipped off her last piece of clothing and began changing as if it were the most natural thing in the world, neither teasing her brother nor putting on an act.

She has the shame of a kindergartener…

But Masachika felt like overthinking it meant defeat, so he simply kept looking away while forcing himself to bring up another topic.

“Oh, so about Alya…”

“Hmm? Yeah?”

“…Sorry, but I told her we were siblings.”

“Really? So you finally spilled the beans, huh?”

“Yeah… I couldn’t hide it from her anymore.”

“Eh, it was probably about time. She’d have figured it out sooner or later anyway, so you probably made the right call.”

“…That’s it?” he tentatively asked, noticing that his sister didn’t really even react.

“Hmm? Well, I mean, it’s too bad I can’t tease her anymore about being your childhood friend and your ex-partner, but that’s about it.”

“By ex-partner, you’re talking about the student council when we ran together in middle school, right? Because the way you phrased it kind of makes it sound like we were dating. In fact, why were you even teasing her to begin with? Stop messing with her.”

“Hold up. This just means I need to be the suggestive biological sister heroine, right?”

“I said stop.”

“But the idea of standing in Alya’s way as a little sister, innocently attached to her older brother and willing to do anything to keep him to herself sounds promising as well.”

“Stop ignoring me.”

“Fooo. ♪ The possibilities are endless. ♪”

“…I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

Having changed into fresh pajamas, Yuki danced lightly over to the bed, then tossed herself backward onto the mattress with a bright, carefree grin.

“Oh, wait. So Alya’s the reason you managed to come home, huh?”

“…! Yeah, I guess.”

“Ohhh. Interestiiing. As your little sister, it makes me sooo happy to see you blessed with such a wonderful partner.”

“…”

Her comment embarrassed Masachika for some reason, and he averted his gaze, which made her smirk.

“I really am grateful for what she did, because you wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for her,” she sincerely added.

It was a completely innocent observation without any hidden meaning…but it was something that still stung Masachika with guilt.

“…I’m sorry. You must have been so lonely because of me.”

“Wh-what? Where did that come from all of a sudden?” Yuki awkwardly laughed, a hint of surprise in her smile as she sat up.

“What’s wrong? Did Grandfather say something?” she asked in a playful manner.

Moved by his sister’s kindness, he lifted his head, a bittersweet smile on his lips.

“No… This has nothing to do with him. I should have told you this sooner. That’s all.” He bowed deeply once more. “I’m sorry for burdening you with everything. I know it’s too little, too late, but I’ll carry that burden from now on.”

“Uh… What? I’m sorry. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” replied Yuki with a troubled smile as she tilted her head.

“I asked Grandfather to make me his successor again,” revealed Masachika, his serious gaze fixed on his sister.

“…What?”

“This burden wasn’t yours to bear. This was my weight to carry. I can no longer just pathetically look the other way while you continue to sacrifice yourself for my sake.”

Yuki slowly lowered her gaze…and murmured softly:

“‘Sacrifice’ myself? Excuse me? Are you seriously saying that?”

He was immediately caught off guard by his sister’s serious, low voice.

“Yu—”

“I…!” She cut off her brother with a sharp bark. “I made the decision to stay behind! Because I wanted to do what I could for this family!”

Rising from the bed, Yuki shot her brother a fierce glare, her expression burning with undeniable anger.

“And that hasn’t changed! I’ve lived my life like this, and I will continue to as well because this is how I want to live my life! You’ve been the closest to me all these years, and yet you think—!” She momentarily choked on her words, then tightly clenched her teeth before screaming, “Do you see me as just some pitiful victim?!”

Her brother’s eyes widened in shock, but before he could utter a word, Yuki kicked him in the shoulder with her bare foot.

“Are you kidding me?! Get out! Out!!”

Without a hint of hesitation, Yuki unleashed a flurry of kicks, driving her brother toward the door, then propelling him into the hallway. After slamming the door shut, Yuki turned her back to it, breathing heavily.

“Hff… Hff… Mn! Cough! Hack!” Perhaps stirred by her excitement, her cough suddenly got worse, causing her to wince in pain. “Yech! Tsk!”

In truth, Yuki had been forcing herself to appear cheerful up until a few seconds ago. Though her memory of last night was hazy, she could still vaguely recall exposing her painfully vulnerable side to her brother, and it was exactly why she was pushing herself now to erase that impression.

It doesn’t matter if it’s an act. It doesn’t matter if I’m already pretending to be okay… If I pull it off, then it becomes real, right?

That was truly how she felt, and she had been working hard all this time for that very reason. Yet…her brother had just told her to give it all up.

“Getting all serious with me… Tsk.”

Anger flared within her again and she cursed under her breath. She knew her brother carried guilt toward her, but she had never imagined that even now he still saw her as some pitiful creature that needed his protection.

“Ugh! Really pisses me off. This all happened because I just had to get the flu.”

She stomped heavily toward the bed, but suddenly froze when she saw her reflection in the full-length mirror.

…No, it isn’t because of the flu.

Her small, slender, and frail body was reflected in the mirror—a figure that still bore the unmistakable mark of those bedridden days long past. That and her status as the “little sister” were undoubtedly the main reasons why Masachika saw her as someone he needed to protect.

Why did I have to be his little sister?

If given the choice, she wished she had been born as his older sister. Just because she was born around a year after him meant that Masachika saw her as someone he had to protect unconditionally. However, if Yuki had been his older sister, then perhaps he wouldn’t have carried such heavy guilt. Perhaps he wouldn’t despise everything about himself, either.

I guess it’s pointless to speculate, though.

Yuki shifted her gaze from the mirror and staggered toward the bed, collapsing onto the mattress face-first, where she remained buried until she heard a knock followed by Ayano’s voice.

“Lady Yuki? May I come in?”

“…”

Ayano seemed to assume she was asleep, since she didn’t respond.

“Pardon me,” she quietly murmured, slipping silently into the room, where she found Yuki sprawled face-down without a blanket. But when Ayano approached to cover her with a blanket…

“Lady…Yuki…? Are you awake?”

She noticed Yuki’s eyes were wide open, staring intently at the mattress, causing her to hesitate with her hand hovering awkwardly in the air.

“Uh… Did something happen? Mr. Masachika seemed to be really out of it when I passed by him a second ago…”

The moment that name left Ayano’s lips, Yuki’s irritation blazed anew, and she pushed herself up with both hands and glared ahead into empty space.

“Ayano.”

“Yes?”

“…We’re going to win the election next year, no matter what.”

“Huh? Oh yes. As you wish.”

Ayano nodded back hesitantly, clearly still puzzled by the sudden declaration. Yuki, however, didn’t glance in her maid’s direction at all as she whispered through her tightly clenched her teeth:

“I’m going to show him that I’m no longer some weak, pitiful, little girl.”

She then firmly declared to her absent brother:

“I’m going to be the one who defeats you, Big Brother.”

Chapter 6. And then, Alisa peacefully passed away.

After being kicked out of his sister’s room, Masachika rode home with his father in a daze that lingered long after. He did neither chores nor any studying. He didn’t even surf the internet. He simply watched the sun continue to sink from his room until his father called him to dinner.

“What do you think? I feel like I did a pretty good job…”

“…Yeah, it’s good.”

Kyoutarou had confidently served dinner, boasting he had recreated the dishes of a certain famous British restaurant. However, Masachika ate mechanically, offering only terse responses as Yuki’s words churned endlessly in his mind. Everything that had consumed his thoughts before, even the one condition that Gensei had made, had dissolved beneath the weight of his sister’s unprecedented anger. The shock of witnessing her fury for the first time had left him utterly shaken.

I’ve never seen Yuki that angry before… I do feel bad for forcing her to take on that burden, because it has clearly been too much for her… I mean, she was crying in my arms last night like a child… There’s no denying that I sacrificed her dreams for my own, either…

He knew what he said had hurt Yuki’s pride, and it was only natural that she was taken aback after serving the Suou family for years to become the next successor. Put simply, he was essentially telling her, “You worked hard. Good job. Now leave the rest to me.” Nevertheless, he still couldn’t comprehend why she was that angry—furious enough to kick him out of the room. In fact, he thought she would be happy about living together again.

Obviously, I was in the wrong. She wouldn’t have been so mad, otherwise…but I have seriously been putting a lot of thought into this, and it took everything I had to do that…

Self-reproach and defiance flickered in and out of existence in his mind.

“What’s wrong? Did you and Yuki have a fight or something?” asked Kyoutarou with a warm smile, having noticed that his son was visibly distracted.

“…!”

Masachika’s eyebrow twitched, telling Kyoutarou everything.

“You did, huh? Nothing wrong with that. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Rather than accepting everything about each other, sometimes it’s better to just let it all out and have a good fight. Relationships work better that way.”

“…Really? Wouldn’t it be better to solve things without fighting?”

Though Masachika was skeptical, his father still spoke calmly, not admonishing him in the slightest.

“When two people both feel strongly about something, it’s not uncommon for them to clash over even the smallest thing, even if those feelings come from a place of love.”

“…Really?”

“Really. They say the opposite of love is indifference, right? And there wouldn’t be any conflict if you’re indifferent. The most peaceful people in the world are probably those who are indifferent and unconcerned about everything.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

“Right? So in a way, a fight between siblings is an expression of love. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Nah, I think that’s a bit of a stretch,” Masachika calmly jested, chuckling softly at his father, who was playfully shrugging.

“But…I guess they do say that people who are close to each other fight a lot…”

“Exactly. It means that, just like how Yuki means so much to you, you mean that much to Yuki as well.”

As his son’s eyes widened in surprise, Kyoutarou gently added:

“So it’s going to be okay.”

The next morning, Alisa stood before the entrance of Masachika’s apartment building, having left her house over an hour earlier than usual.

…It’ll be fine. This isn’t weird at all. Yeah, I just want to know what happened at Yuki’s place. That’s all.

Alisa nervously adjusted her bangs while making excuses in her head, holding the compact mirror that Nonoa had given her the day before yesterday. She likely would’ve kept fussing for another five or ten minutes if not for suddenly noticing someone, probably a resident of the building, at the entranceway.

Startled, she snapped the compact mirror shut and calmly slipped it into her bag. Then, standing before the intercom, she drew several deep breaths before pressing the button for Masachika’s place. Her heart hammered as the rings echoed—one, two, three, four, five—until the call finally connected with a soft click.

“…Alya? Good morning. What’s wrong?”

“Good morning, Masachika. Sorry for coming over all of a sudden like this. I was just wondering what ended up happening at Yuki’s place the day before yesterday, and I figured you wouldn’t be able to talk about it at school, so I thought maybe we could walk to school together this morning and talk about it.”

Alisa smoothly recited the rehearsed lines with a composed expression, then inwardly celebrated, imagining her fists raised in the air while she waited for Masachika to reply.

“Oh, I guess that’s cool… I’m about to eat breakfast, though. Is that okay?”

“Oh, really? That’s fine. I don’t mind waiting.”

“All right… Come on up, then.”

Once the entrance was promptly opened, Alisa slipped inside, silently pumping her fist in victory as she took her compact mirror out once again to check her hair in front of the elevator. What she had just told Masachika was only half the truth. The other half was that she had come all this way because she simply wanted to walk to school with him.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to simply walk to school together side by side? After all, that’s something people only do if they’re really close.

Swept up in her excitement, Alisa randomly began to sway her body from side to side, fighting to suppress the smile tugging at her lips. Her thoughts had taken a curiously girlish turn—and with good reason, too.

It had all started the moment she learned Yuki was Masachika’s sister just two days earlier, but it also made her realize that Yuki was someone special and irreplaceable to Masachika—someone she could never compete with. The realization was devastating at first, but after returning home and sleeping on it, an entirely different voice began whispering to her in her mind. Put simply…

But they are siblings, so what’s the problem? It’s not like I’ll be competing with Yuki for his affection. If anything, this is going to be better for me, since I’m the only one in the race now. I mean, could things get any better? Maybe I should start dancing?

That was what the little voice whispered to her. She had blindly assumed that Masachika and Yuki harbored secret feelings for each other—that her first love was destined to go nowhere. For Alisa, who had been trying to lock away her own heart by clinging to that misunderstanding, this voice was more than enough to break those chains. It was enough to make her want to dance and merrily hum alone in her room.

But the fact remained that Masachika’s heart wasn’t with her but with Yuki, and that thought alone sent Alisa’s spirits crashing down. Just imagining his gentle gaze and tender touch meant for someone else made her chest ache and stole any trace of joy from her body. She had no clue how she’d ever thought about dancing and could only ruminate on how stupid she was. His heart was undeniably with Yuki, and for now there wasn’t the slightest chance it would turn toward her…

But it’s love between siblings, right? It’s completely different from romantic feelings of love. And when it comes to romantic feelings, and if I’m not completely misreading the room…I’m pretty sure I’m Masachika’s number one pick, right? Wait a second. Is it time to dance? Let’s dance! Yeeeah! Party time!♪

…And so, after a whole day of her feelings soaring and crashing like a roller coaster yesterday, Alisa found herself on a bit of a high. The love she had long kept locked deep in her heart had transformed into countless tiny mini-Alyas, joyfully parading around and shouting, “Yay! We’re free!☆”

And from the sound of his voice, it sounds like he just woke up, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only girl who has ever stepped foot into his house this early in the morning. In other words, that makes me special, right? Giggle.♪

And now she was here. Apparently, some girl named Ayano had been trampled by the mini-Alyas parade and completely forgotten.

Each step she made was followed by rainbows and sparkles. It was a sight hardly befitting the so-called solitary princess, but it wasn’t long before the elevator arrived. Checking her full reflection one last time in the walls of mirrors around her, she confidently pulled something from her bag—the white gloves Masachika had given her just two days prior.

The morning temperature hardly called for gloves yet, but that was irrelevant. She slipped them on immediately to ensure Masachika would notice because that was the only thing that mattered. Fully equipped and brimming with determination, she curled her bubbly smile into a provocative grin, then pressed the Kuze’s doorbell—

“Be right there… Oh, hey. Nice to meet you.”

His father ☆ opened the door…and Alisa’s face instantly went blank. The parade of tiny, triumphant mini-Alyas that had been marching proudly through her heart came to an abrupt halt as they stared ahead in stunned disbelief.

“Huh?! Ah!”

She instinctively wondered if she had the wrong apartment and quickly checked the house number and nameplate…but they were correct.

“…??”

Kyoutarou bowed politely with a slightly troubled smirk at the utterly confused schoolgirl.

“I’m Masachika’s father, Kyoutarou.”

“Ah! Ahhh! Sorry! Uh… I’m Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou! M-Masachika has always been such a wonderful friend! Uh…! S-sorry for stopping by this early in the morning!”

She abruptly lowered her head, quickly stripped off both gloves, and swiftly crammed them into her bag. She wasn’t wearing anything on her hands, and nobody had witnessed a thing. At least, that was what she was going to tell herself.

“Uh… Today, I, uh…”

Alisa lifted her head back up, scrambling to come up with an excuse, but she immediately stumbled over her words before she could make a single coherent sentence. Seeing her obviously flustered, Kyoutarou gently smiled and stepped aside to give her some space to walk by.

“It’s okay. Come on in.”

Alisa bashfully hunched her shoulders and bowed repeatedly as she stepped inside, but her mind was still spinning in a whirlwind of confusion.

Why?! Why is his father here?! Why?!

Unexpectedly meeting the father of her crush had caught her entirely off guard, wiping her mind completely blank and leaving the parading mini-Alyas in her heart shouting, “Retreat!!” as they scattered about. And just like that, the flutter of excitement suddenly died…when Alisa came to an abrupt realization.

Hold on… Did I just make a horrible first impression?!

She calmly and objectively analyzed her current self. From Masachika’s perspective, who was well aware of everything that had happened, her sudden early-morning visit might seem like the act of a concerned partner. But how would Kyoutarou see her, especially since this was the first time they had ever met?

A female classmate just boldly invited herself to his son’s place early in the morning, knowing that he usually lived alone…?

There was no need to even put any thought into it. She had just showed up uninvited to a boy’s house early in the morning like it was nothing, so obviously, Kyoutarou must have pegged her as some shameless hussy who lacked both common sense and decency.

Nooo! That’s not what this is!!

Alisa desperately fought the urge to tear her hair out as she slipped her feet into the slippers Kyoutarou had put out for her.

No! Don’t get the wrong idea! I never invite myself over to boys’ houses like this! I’ve only ever been to Masachika’s place, and this is my first time coming over this early in the morning, and I have absolutely no intention of doing anything weird, and I only thought that maybe it would be nice if we could walk to school together while holding hands, and I had a few vague thoughts that maybe I could wrap my arms around his under the guise that I wanted to cheer him up because I wanted to see how he’d react, but that’s only because it’s Masachika, and it’s not because I’m some sort of overly promiscuous hussy! Aaaaaagh!

To Alisa, a perfectionist so meticulous in her dealings with the opposite sex that Masachika had jokingly called her a germaphobe, the mere implication of her chastity being questioned by the father of her crush was enough to make her inwardly shriek in silent agony. Yet loudly declaring her innocence here would be far too crass. Besides, protesting only made people look more guilty, and denying it too fervently might expose her feelings for Masachika. Therefore…

“Make yourself at home. Masachika will be here in a second after he changes.”

“All right. Thank you.”

No matter how frustrating it was, all Alisa could do now was remain silent.

Gritting her teeth and restlessly fidgeting with her fingers, she settled into the living room chair as Kyoutarou had suggested until Masachika eventually appeared, dressed in his school uniform slacks and white collared shirt.

Ah, I like him so much.

That was the first thought that came to mind as the mini-Alyas, who had scattered about, came back, filling her heart with their lively cheers and laughter.

He still looks a little sleepy. Ah, his hair’s sticking up and bouncing around in the back. He’s so cute.♡

The distracting thought crossed her mind…until she caught a glimpse of Kyoutarou out of the corner of her eye, prompting her to hastily banish the mini-Alyas from her heart.

“Good morning, Masachika. Looking as sleepy as always, I see,” she commented with her usual composed expression, trying to sound as normal as possible.

Only after the words left her lips did she realize that this was something you would say to someone at school, not after inviting yourself into their house early in the morning. It didn’t help that she said it in front of Kyoutarou, either.

Ugh! I just got here, and I already messed up big time! Ahhh!

Though Alisa was mortified and inwardly burying her face in her hands, she couldn’t take back what had already been said, so she simply fought to maintain her composed facade. However…

“Good morning… Yeah, that’s ’cause I am sleepy,” Masachika said with a yawn, seemingly unfazed as he took a seat beside Alisa.

Once everyone was settled, Kyoutarou returned with a tray and placed a glass before each of them.

“Here, I got you something to drink. I hope you don’t dislike cocoa.”

“Oh, I love cocoa. Thank you very much.”

“My pleasure. By the way, have you eaten breakfast yet?”

“Uh…”

Caught off guard by the question, Alisa hesitated, her eyes darting nervously. The truth was, she hadn’t eaten breakfast yet because she wasn’t able to come up with a good excuse to leave the house early that morning. Claiming she was on cleaning duty today would have been problematic since she was leaving far too early for that, and saying it was student council work wouldn’t hold because her sister was also a member. Therefore, she had no choice but to leave a note for her family saying that she had left early, then slip out the door before anyone woke up. She did, however, stop by a convenience store on the way and had bought a sandwich she was planning to eat sometime later.

But how can I even tell him that? It’s not like I can tell him I came over without even getting my parents’ permission. Should I just leave that part out of my story? Then again…I can’t lie any more and tell him I ate, since I already hesitated. It would be unnatural. Wait. Hold on… Hmm?

Blindsided by the sudden turn of events and reeling from her own blunder, her thoughts churned in useless circles, refusing to settle. But before long, Kyoutarou gently curled his lips and tilted his head, apparently having realized she hadn’t eaten.

“If you haven’t eaten yet, then how about you have breakfast with us? We’re having leftovers from last night if that’s okay…”

“…”

Honestly, it was a somewhat—no, quite—tempting offer. After all, the rich aroma of curry had been wafting through the air for the past few minutes, and the mention of leftovers just now confirmed her suspicions. The Kuze family’s breakfast that morning was definitely homemade curry that had been simmering overnight.

The wonderful smell has absolutely destroyed any interest I had in this sandwich.

Although Alisa’s stomach was fiercely stirred by the strong scent of curry, she lacked the nerve to impose herself on their breakfast.

“Thank you very much for the offer, but don’t worry about me. I ate a little before I left the house this morning.”

Even Alisa was impressed by her own swift, clever lie. She hadn’t exactly eaten breakfast, but she had eaten a little—enough that her hesitation when asked if she’d had breakfast wasn’t suspicious. Plus, it implied that she hadn’t come without her parents’ permission. Simply put, it was a very good lie—one she inwardly congratulated herself for. However, Kyoutarou, being a parent himself, wasn’t so easily convinced.

“You only ate a ‘little’ before you left? That’s no good. You’re a growing young woman. You need to eat.”

“Oh, no. Really, I…”

“Don’t be shy. We’re about to eat, too, and I’d feel terrible making you just sit there waiting while we ate. Besides, the more the merrier, so just eat what you can, okay?”

“Uh…”

There was no way she could bring up that she had bought a sandwich, either, since she had already claimed she’d eaten something, and faced with the overwhelming scent of curry, Alisa’s self-control began to waver…

“Okay… Thank you.”

Before she even realized it, she was nodding, and Kyoutarou smiled with evident satisfaction.

“Don’t worry. We’re having curry, so just scoop up as much or as little as you’d like and enjoy yourself. Oh, are you fine with having curry this early in the morning?”

I knew it was curry, Alisa thought as she nodded.

“Of course. I love curry.”

“I’m glad. Oh, hey.”

Kyoutarou then casually asked:

“Can you eat spicy food?”

Alisa was suddenly engulfed by a dread so overwhelming that her survival instincts began howling in alarm.

Ah, I can feel it. It’s still far…but it’s there.

Ever since she, Masachika, and Yuki had eaten that really spicy ramen together, Alisa had been regularly challenging herself with intensely hot dishes to build up her spice tolerance. And before she knew it, she could sense its presence—the presence of the grim reaper—wielding a crimson scythe and wearing a necklace threaded with countless habaneros as it waited to render her unconscious and steal her soul.

This is bad… Experience tells me that the fact I can already detect its presence means I’m in serious danger…

But no matter how loudly her instincts screamed, Alisa wouldn’t back down—not in front of Masachika. After all, what had she been working so hard for? For moments like this!

“…Yes, I love spicy food,” she replied with a determined smile, her fists tightly clenched in her lap. Kyoutarou smiled back, seemingly relieved.

“Really? I’m relieved because I made the curry a little spicy this time.”

Alisa was also somewhat relieved to hear it was only a “little” spicy, but even then, she needed to make sure just in case.

“Do you love spicy food, too…like Masachika does?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. I’m not particularly fond of spicy food.”

“Really? Interesting.”

Only then did Alisa finally feel true relief, and understandably so. After all, how could Alisa have possibly known of Kyoutarou’s unrefined palate, since this was the first time they had ever met? Unknown to her, his taste preferences were already somewhat peculiar, and his tolerance for sweetness, saltiness, sourness, and bitterness far exceeded the average person’s as well.

Masachika’s father could easily eat obnoxiously sweet desserts with a straight face—desserts that would make even someone with a sweet tooth wince. He could nonchalantly drink tea so bitter that even an entertainer on a travel TV show would involuntarily spit it out. This held true for spicy food, and even foul odors, which would result in him simply commenting, “Oh, wow. That’s really something, huh?” However, this broad tolerance for food was, in a way, an asset for him as a diplomat, enabling him to eat local cuisine without issue.

But that was beside the point, because right now, that unrefined palate of his had become a cruel trap for Alisa.

I guess the grim reaper’s presence was only my imagination… I’m probably being way too sensitive. But, yeah, it makes sense. If it really was super spicy, then Masachika would have said something like he did last time.

Seeing Masachika quietly sipping his cocoa, Alisa further relaxed her guard and brought her own cup to her lips. Unfortunately for her, Masachika was still dwelling on yesterday’s events and was completely distracted. Additionally, he was sleep-deprived, as well as having just woken up, so his mind wasn’t fully processing his surroundings. The fact that his father was offering Alisa curry for breakfast barely even registered.

“Anyway, come on over. Take as much curry and rice as you’d like.”

“Thank you very much. I guess I could eat a little more…”

“You too, Masachika.”

“Hmm? Yeah…”

And so, Alisa stepped into the kitchen with her guard completely down.

Wow, it smells even better close up. It has a slightly distinctive aroma to it that makes me wonder if it’s some sort of authentic, homemade dish that uses a ton of different spices.

Enticed by the appetizing aroma of the curry, Alisa took Kyoutarou up on his offer—still mindful that she had claimed to have “eaten a little” beforehand—and served herself only half a bowl of rice. However, as she lifted the lid of the curry pot, she narrowed her eyes at the rising steam and aroma…

What the…?

She immediately sensed the presence of the grim reaper. This wasn’t her imagination, either, for death was clearly closer than before. Though its scythe was still out of range, she could feel its gaze boring into her as the nape of her neck tingled.

Wait. You’re kidding, right? It looks so delicious…and I don’t see anything red or even dangerous-looking in it?

Inside the pot was something that resembled an extremely thick curry with a slightly dark tint. No obviously dangerous ingredients were visible, but…perhaps they could have seamlessly dissolved into the roux.

“…!!”

A shiver of dread ran down her spine, but it was too late since she had already served herself some rice. Masachika had also just placed the rice paddle down after scooping himself some and was waiting for her. In other words, there was no time for hesitation.

I’ll just take as little as possible…while making sure it doesn’t look unnatural…

Slowly and carefully, she tilted the ladle, pouring the curry onto the plate.

Is this enough…?

When the rice-to-curry ratio was roughly 5:3, she ceased her ladling and swiftly retreated with an air of innocence.

All right, that should do it! I’ve got a ton of rice, so I should be fine!

Satisfied with herself, Alisa waited for the others to join her at the table. Masachika promptly caught up with her and was followed seconds later by Kyoutarou, both carrying their own plates of curry. However…

“Oh, hold on.”

As soon as Kyoutarou placed his plate on the table, he immediately went back to the kitchen and returned with the pot of curry in hand.

…Hmm?

Alisa had a bad feeling in her gut, but Kyoutarou simply smiled.

“There’s still a tiny bit of curry left, so do you think you two could eat a little more?”

The moment he saw Alisa’s plate, his eyes widened in surprise, sending her into a panic. Uh-oh. I’ve been caught, she thought.

“Oh, you hardly got any curry. You don’t have to be polite.”

“Me? No, I’m—”

Though Alisa attempted to decline, Kyoutarou paid her no mind casually ladling the last of the curry onto her plate before serving Masachika as well.

Ah…!

And just like that, she was left with a plate of curry rice with a roughly 3:4 ratio of rice to curry. Her sneaky attempt to reduce how much curry she would eat had spectacularly backfired, leaving her with even more curry than she would have had otherwise. If she had simply gone with a 1:1 ratio, then Kyoutarou probably would have eaten the rest himself.

Ack! It’s getting closer… It’s getting even closer…

She could sense death lurking several meters behind her, but merely detecting its presence was meaningless. All she could do now was brace herself and face the challenge head-on.

I-I’ll be fine. It’s going to take a lot more than a single strike to take me out…as long as I prepare… I have my cocoa for backup, too, just in case.

Although Kyoutarou had brought her some water, it would do little against the overwhelming spiciness. Her half-finished cocoa was the only dependable lifeline she had, making her deeply regret already drinking so much of her only potion.

It’s going to be okay! This is only half a serving of curry, to boot! I can handle half!

Encouraging herself with seemingly logical yet fundamentally flawed reasoning, Alisa fortified her mental defenses while bringing her hands together.

“““Thanks for breakfast.”””

Finally scooping up the curry, she thrust it into her mouth with determination—and was immediately met with the sweet and spicy roux flooding her palate.

Huh? It’s not spicy? If anything, it’s really sweet and delicious…

It was an unexpectedly pleasant taste. In fact, she could sense the grim reaper she had felt lurking behind her turn around and start to leave.

Oh, thank goodness. I was getting all nervous for nothing. See? The grim reaper’s already leaving—

…When it suddenly came sprinting back!

Huh? Ah—

The instant she let her guard down, a fierce volcano erupted beneath the sweetness while the racing reaper’s blade swung straight for her neck!

“……!!”

Alisa was about to lose consciousness from a single blow in the blink of an eye—

Hmph!

But she managed to fight through the pain, albeit just barely. She was in front of the boy she had a crush on and his father, after all. Then again, perhaps that wasn’t a good thing.

Ow! Ow, ow, ow! Owww! Too…spicy…!!

That was all her brain could process. They were signals, relentlessly flooding her head. Surviving the initial shock didn’t make what followed any easier, either. Like the status effect of a deadly poison, the damage continued to build steadily each second that passed.

O-oh, gosh! I need rice!

Unable to bear the excruciating pain, Alisa instinctively extended her spoon toward the white rice…before abruptly stopping dead in her tracks.

Are you stupid?! You’re seriously going to waste such a precious resource this early in the war?! Stop worrying! The spiciness…will eventually…go away! Fight it!

She had come to understand, to some extent, how to approach extremely spicy food after having gone through several stages of hell since that day. Rather than fleeing straight to the rice, she focused all her tongue’s nerves on detecting the flavors of the ingredients. That way, she could at least taste the umami of the meat and the sweetness of the vegetables and rice beneath the extreme spice.

But they were so far away! Because the layers of lava were thick and acted as walls protecting the beef, vegetables, and rice from her!

“…! Mn!”

She managed to swallow what was in her mouth, but even the lingering heat left her tongue burning and in pain. Unable to take it any longer, she reached for the cocoa and took a sip, but it didn’t extinguish the fire at all…so she continued to drink in an attempt to overwhelm it with sheer volume, and only then did the spiciness become somewhat tolerable. That was also when she had realized her cup was now empty as well.

You dummy! I’m such a stupid idiot! I can’t believe I drank my most precious liquid resource in one gulp! How am I going to get through this now?!

But no matter how much she berated herself, it wouldn’t change a thing. There was no use crying over spilled milk…or cocoa, after all. All she had left for protection was the rice…which seemed like it wasn’t going to help much compared to how much curry was left.

Th-this is bad…

Volume-wise it was roughly half a serving, but if just one spoonful inflicted this much agony, then the road ahead looked impossibly bleak. She could only picture herself collapsing midway through, her soul seized by the grim reaper she sensed lurking just behind her, waiting with growing impatience for her inevitable fall.

“Hey, uh… Do you not like the curry?” asked a worried voice from the seat across from her.

“…!”

Alisa quickly lifted her head, which had unconsciously dropped, and noticed Kyoutarou’s concerned eyes gazing at her from behind his glasses.

“I tried to recreate a curry that’s quite famous for being spicy even in the UK…but maybe I made it a little too spicy? Anyway, don’t force yourself to eat it if it’s too hot…”

There was no way Alisa could simply take him up on his offer and place her spoon down now.

“No, I’m fine. This is delicious,” she responded with a confident smile.

After all, Kyoutarou might already have had the wrong impression of her—believing she was some kind of shameless hussy who would boldly show up at a boy’s house uninvited first thing in the morning. Therefore, she couldn’t afford to appear as some ill-mannered girl who would waste food after only taking a single bite, especially not in front of someone who might one day become her father-in-law. So—

What is wrong with me?! Get out of here! Scram!

Alisa stubbornly maintained her smile, chasing away the mini-Alyas that would show up from the depths of her heart at any opportunity they could. In reality, Kyoutarou didn’t think poorly of Alisa at all. He had heard about her from both Masachika and Yuki for some time, and he learned from Masachika that she was the one who had given him the courage to visit the Suou household the day before yesterday.

Therefore, he simply figured that she had stopped by because she was concerned for Masachika. In fact, Kyoutarou found her to be an even better person than the stories made her out to be. He was, however, completely oblivious to the feelings Alisa harbored toward Masachika, but that was because his palate wasn’t the only unrefined thing.

“Really? Because you don’t have to force yourself to eat it.”

“Thank you, but I’m fine. Really.”

Alisa scooped up some curry and took another bite, as if she felt that she had to prove herself. As expected, the sweetness came first…followed by the fierce blaze and devastating lava ravaging her mouth! The grim reaper’s combo was landing clean!

H-how can they eat this with a straight face?!

She somehow maintained her poker face while she glanced at Kyoutarou across from her and Masachika beside her.

“I think the flavors are even more intense after leaving it to settle overnight. Wouldn’t you agree, Masachika?”

“Huh? Yeah… Probably.”

“Come on, are you still half asleep? Did you not get much sleep last night?”

“Hmm? Yeah…”

Th-they’re eating it like it’s no big deal…

Kyoutarou was eating while properly savoring the flavor, and Masachika was silently cramming it in his mouth with a somewhat vacant expression. Alisa shuddered. There was something definitely off about these two.

And how is Masachika still half asleep?! How is something this spicy not waking him up?! Are his taste buds broken?!

Alisa couldn’t help but glare at her partner as if he were some kind of pervert, because this went beyond simply liking spicy food. She then shook her head, looked down at her plate, and began to devise a strategy.

Relying on my rice is only going to take me so far…and my first impression of the curry was that it was sweet…

Which meant that she had no choice but to use that fact to power through. Baffled by how she had made it this far, the only way to survive now was to outrun the grim reaper—who was still behind her with its scythe brushing against her neck. This wasn’t a marathon anymore. It was time to sprint!

Let’s do this!!

Internally rallying her courage, Alisa drove her spoon into the curry and then stuffed it into her mouth. Before the first impression of sweetness could fade, she took another bite, then another, her tastebuds gradually surrendering to the assault as the sweetness faded. Unable to stop now, she continued to power through with pure momentum, for the goal was just ahead! However…

You’ve got to be kidding me…

The grim reaper had called for reinforcements; together, they counted to three from each side of Alisa and simultaneously swung their scythes.

I can’t… I can’t do this anymore…

Even as she felt her consciousness being slowly reaped away, Alisa defiantly forced the final bite into her mouth. But even after having somehow conquered the entire plate, what slipped from Alisa’s lips weren’t words of triumph or gratitude for the meal…

“<I’m going to die…>”

But a soul-draining lament in Russian.

“Alya? Uh… You okay?” asked Masachika after they left the apartment and were heading toward the elevator.

“…”

The previous night, thoughts of Yuki had consumed him even after he had settled into bed, and he had no recollection of falling asleep—or if he actually had fallen asleep. Breakfast had passed in a fog, Masachika’s mind still elsewhere, until pitiful Russian whispers jolted his consciousness back to reality. He quickly turned to see the “shadow of death” hanging over her just like he saw that day, and only then did he realize Alisa had just finished eating the extremely spicy curry that his father had made the night before.

Masachika had rushed to the kitchen to grab her some milk, but even after drinking it, Alisa remained silent. She looked utterly drained…as though her very soul had been reaped, her expression disturbingly vacant.

Ugh… I know I have no right to complain since I wasn’t paying attention, but come on, Dad. Why would you think it was okay to offer her curry that spicy?

Though he recognized his anger was misdirected, he mentally berated his father for serving Alisa such spicy curry.

“I’m so sorry! I really am! You were just trying to be polite, and yet…”

Kyoutarou had been apologizing profusely ever since Alisa had “passed away” from her meal, even though he obviously had no ill intentions and had genuinely thought the curry was only “a little” spicy. Masachika understood that as well, having frequently been on the receiving end of some peculiar or excessively exotic snacks and dishes that his father brought back as souvenirs. Still, he felt it was high time his father acknowledged that his palate existed on a different plane from everyone else’s and that he should exercise a bit more restraint.

Then again, maybe he’s unconsciously searching for someone with a palate as unique as his…?

As these thoughts occupied his mind, the elevator arrived. Masachika got in with Alisa, and since he had been in contact with someone who had the flu, he put on a mask just in case. They descended to the first floor, walked out the entrance, and had begun their walk toward school when Alisa suddenly asked:

“…Do you always eat food like that?”

“Huh? Not always. I mean, you’ve seen what I bring to school for lunch, right? I usually eat plain, normal food. That curry was just my dad trying to cook up something special…”

“Oh…”

“I’m really sorry. He didn’t mean to do it, just so you know. His taste buds just don’t really work like most people’s…”

“No, it’s fine. I just need more training. That’s all…”

“What do you mean by ‘training’?”

Masachika began to worry that Alisa was seriously ill, given that she was starting to sound like Ayano. Then, he suddenly found himself wondering why Alisa had even come to his house in the first place, and he started retracing his memories.

“Good morning, Masachika. Sorry for coming over all of a sudden like this. I was just wondering what ended up happening at Yuki’s place the day before yesterday, and I figured you wouldn’t be able to talk about it at school, so I thought maybe we could walk to school together this morning and talk about it.”

Ohhh, right. So that’s why she came over.

Recalling that she had come to ask about what had happened at the Suou household, Masachika pondered how much he should disclose, eventually choosing to gloss over the details concerning his mother and focus instead on his conversation with Gensei.

“Oh, uh… Alya, about what happened at the Suou residence these past two days…”

“…!”

Alisa appeared startled and straightened her posture, leading Masachika to believe that she was ready to listen. He began to tell her about what happened. He told her about how he reconciled with his mother after their long-standing conflict. He told her about negotiating with Gensei so he could be reinstated as the Suou family successor…and about how Gensei would only do so under one condition: that he become the student council president.

“…Okay.”

“Sorry about using the election to negotiate, especially since we’re in this together. Of course, I don’t need to tell you that I’m not even considering switching places with you. I’ll find some other way to convince him.”

The last part was a slight fib. He currently had no idea how to persuade Gensei. He honestly didn’t think he could compromise with his grandfather any more than he already had, yet he genuinely had no intention of pushing Alisa aside to become student council president, either.

“No, it’s—it’s fine… But there is something I want to ask you,” Alisa replied haltingly, offering a half-hearted nod to his explanation that blended truth with deception.

“What’s that?”

Alisa came to a halt while lost in thought, prompting Masachika to stop and turn toward her.

“Did you talk to Yuki before you asked your grandfather to accept you back into the family and reinstate you as his successor?” she asked, wearing a troubled expression.

Masachika winced briefly the instant Yuki was brought up, then replied:

“No… I mean, I did tell her about it later, though.”

“…Did she get mad?”

He gasped at her spot-on assumption.

“I knew it,” Alisa murmured immediately, as if his reaction said it all.

“I know you didn’t mean any harm…but I’m not surprised she got mad.”

“…Yeah, I feel guilty about trying to steal her place as the successor without even talking to her about it first.”

“I get that, but…”

“‘But’?”

“Uh…”

“Don’t worry. Just say what’s on your mind. I’m not going to be upset, no matter what you say,” he assured, staring into her hesitant, probing gaze.

She pondered for a few moments, then replied:

“How should I put it…? You’ve made it sound like becoming the successor to the Suou family—like, becoming a diplomat—was a burden that you get stuck with…”

“…Yeah, but…it is. It’s not something you do because you want to do it.”

“For you, right?”

He closed his mouth for a moment, then quickly shook his head.

“No… Yuki doesn’t want to do it, either. I mean, I’ve never once heard her say that she wanted to become a diplomat one day.”

Yuki had spoken of many dreams since childhood, but curiously enough, she had never once expressed any desire to become a diplomat, which was precisely why Masachika had concluded that she was pursuing this path out of necessity. Alisa, on the other hand, skeptically tilted her head.

“Even so, that doesn’t mean you can’t find meaning in the work you do. How would you feel if you worked hard, took pride in what you were doing, and then someone just came along and was like, ‘Yeah, that must be tough. Don’t worry. I’ll take over from here.’ Would that not bother you at all?”

Masachika froze. The very idea that Yuki genuinely desired to become a diplomat and the head of the Suou family had simply never occurred to him.

“At the very least, if it were me…I would want to finish what I started, no matter how difficult it was, even if it wasn’t something I originally wanted to do. Plus, I wouldn’t want someone to take something from me just because they thought it was a burden. I’d be like, ‘Do I really look like someone who would push her problems onto others and run away? Is that how they see me?’”

Masachika was rendered completely speechless. To regard the responsibilities of the Suou family as nothing more than a burden would be an insult to Yuki, who had carried those very responsibilities. The thought had never even crossed his mind.

“Of course, this is only how I would feel. There’s no way of knowing how Yuki feels without asking her…”

“Yeah… But what you said makes sense.” Only now did he realize how self-centered and arrogant his actions had been, but even after realizing it, he muttered one lingering thought. “I… I just wanted her to be free.”

Yuki had been crying in bed like a small child. Even now, he felt tears welling up just thinking about how much that tiny body had carried. She had gained a relatively healthy body that could go anywhere, yet she remained bound to that house, and he just wished with all his heart to set his sister free.

“It’s clear that you really care about her.”

Alisa approached him and gently touched his right arm in a caring gesture, drawing Masachika’s gaze as he haltingly replied:

“But you’re right… Originally, it was about me accepting what I needed to do instead of running away…but to Yuki, I was essentially downplaying the hard work she has been doing all these years. In the end…it was my ego that wanted to set her free…”

“…Don’t beat yourself up over it. Your heart was in the right place, and Yuki knows that as well.”

Masachika recalled what his father said yesterday and his expression changed into a bittersweet smile.

“Ha-ha! My dad said something similar… He told me that everything was going to be okay because we care about each other,” muttered Masachika before suddenly lifting his head back up with a brighter smile.

“Sorry. I got a little too negative there for a moment. But thanks. You really gave me a lot to think about.”

“…Really?”

“Really. Now, come on. Let’s head to school.”

As he turned on his heel and began walking back toward their school, a hand slipped around his left arm from behind, drawing it into a snug embrace.

“…?!”

But just as he was taken aback by the sudden warmth on his arm, a soft whisper tickled his ear as she brushed against him.

“<I care deeply about you, too.>”

She immediately let go of his arm and briskly walked ahead while Masachika remained standing still, dumbfounded as he awkwardly rubbed his arm where she touched him.

…Was she trying to cheer me up?

Watching her rush ahead without so much as a glance back at him made him grin, and he whispered:

M e t o o

“И я тоже.”

He quietly chuckled at his partner who clearly didn’t want him to ask about the gesture, then lowered his gaze once more, resuming both his stride and his thoughts.

Taking over for the Suou family wouldn’t make her happy? Then I—

Meanwhile, Alisa, walking ahead, was lost in her own thoughts as well.

Masachika could return to his family…if I simply gave up trying to become the president?

That was the condition imposed by Masachika’s grandfather, Gensei, and something that he had to overcome to resolve his regret and realize his wish, so Alisa naturally wanted to help. However…

I want to be the student council president…but do I have any right to stop him from being accepted back into his family for a simple desire of mine? Shouldn’t we prioritize him and his family…?

Alisa pursued the student council presidency because she always aimed for the top. She was also seeking validation from all those around her to prove her way of life wasn’t wrong. Furthermore, she now felt compelled to meet the expectations of people who supported her, like Masachika and Sayaka. But was that truly something that should take precedence over Masachika’s wish?

I could be the vice president… No. But I…

Lost in thought, she mechanically continued to press forward.

Maintaining a steady distance between each other with their gazes lowered, Alisa and Masachika walked to school in silence, immersed in their thoughts as they approached school grounds and oblivious to the steadily growing crowd of Seirei Academy students who had their eyes locked on them.

“Whoa. Is that Masachika and Alisa?”

“Yeah, you’re right… Are they walking to school together?”

“I dunno. Doesn’t really look that way.”

“Uh? Yo, check it out.”

“Huh? Oh, it’s those two kids running in the election. They’re walking to school together… They’re dating, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know… I mean, look at them. They’re not even talking. And look at the distance between them.”

“Maybe they’re fighting? But if they were fighting, they’d be even farther apart from each other…”

“Hold up. Maybe it’s just a coincidence? Maybe they haven’t even noticed each other?”

“Seriously? There’s no way neither of them have noticed… Something’s up.”

“Weird…”

Drawing curious stares from every direction, they passed through the school gates, still completely oblivious as they proceeded to the shoe lockers at the main entrance, changed into slippers, and headed to Classroom 1-B.

…But right after Alisa slid open the door, she froze.

“Whoa. Alya. What’s wrong?”

Masachika, just about to follow Alisa into the classroom, screeched to a halt to avoid stepping on her heel, then leaned forward to peer over her head, his eyes widening at the unexpected sight.

“What is that?!”

Chapter 7. And then, the culprit was exposed.

“I mean, seriously, what is that?”

“…”

From the classroom entrance, Masachika’s face twitched as he witnessed the overwhelming presence by the window. In front of him, Alisa stood utterly speechless as well. Their eyes were fixed on what appeared to be a mountain of presents—easily more than twenty—stacked on Alisa’s desk by the window. “Appeared to be” because some of them lacked any wrapping or ribbons whatsoever.

“Oh, crap.”

“She’s already here.”

“Looks like we ran out of time.”

The voices quickly drew their gazes to three students at the blackboard using colorful chalk to draw party poppers, ribbons, what looked like was going to be cake, and large letters that read, Happy Birth.

“Wait. Is this for me?” Alisa mumbled inadvertently, seeing the presents on her desk along with the drawings and letters on the blackboard.

“Awww.” Her classmates chuckled immediately, including the three at the blackboard.

“When we got here this morning, we saw all those presents on your desk and noticed they said ‘Happy Birthday’ on them, so we thought we should at least do something…”

“Yeah… We didn’t finish in time, though…”

After two students at the blackboard explained what was going on, the third student set down his chalk and suddenly burst into applause.

“Happy birthday, Alisa!!”

Although it was obviously an attempt to bulldoze through the issue with pure enthusiasm, other classmates soon began to join in, until the entire class was clapping.

“Happy birthday!”

“Congratulations!”

“Happy b-day!”

“Happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday! Not sure today’s even your birthday, though!”

“How does a single one of you not know?! Her birthday was two days ago!” Masachika said jokingly, and noticed Alisa seemed torn—as if she didn’t know whether to be happy or to point out that today wasn’t her birthday.

“Congratulations! Happy belated birthday!”

“Don’t pretend like you knew, Maruyama! Your enthusiasm isn’t fooling anyone,” Masachika quipped once more as the boy who started the applause began clapping even louder. Their banter sparked laughter throughout the room while the applause only grew louder, some students even beginning to whistle with their fingers.

“Happy two-days-ago birthday!”

“Yeah, happy birthday!”

“Congrats, girl!”

Suddenly, a flurry of congratulations erupted in the classroom while Alisa, looking utterly bewildered, wore an uncertain yet unmistakably pleased smile.

“Thank you… Thank you all so much…,” she muttered, covering her mouth slightly with her hand.

“““…!!”””

The usually composed, extraordinarily beautiful girl was obviously trying to hide her embarrassment, and her expression pierced the hearts of both male and female classmates. The applause and finger-whistling continued to swell in volume until students from nearby classes began peeking in from the hallway, drawn by the noise.

“What the…? It’s her birthday today?”

“Whoa! Look at all those presents.”

“She have a fan club or something…?”

“I have no idea what’s going on, but happy birthday!”

“Again, it was two days ago!”

The excitement was escalating, so Masachika attempted to defuse the situation with a few humorous comments, but the classroom was clearly never going to settle down with Alisa bashfully blushing behind him. The circle of applause and well wishes continued to explode, drawing in even more people who had no idea what was happening when—

“What is going on in here?”

However, the commotion subsided somewhat when a disciplinary committee member, attracted by the noise, made her appearance. It was none other than Sayaka Taniyama, the first-year rising star of the disciplinary committee. Her glasses glinted beneath a set of blunt bangs as her piercing, unperturbed gaze forced the overly excited students to cower and lower their hands.

“Alisa…? Good morning. What’s going on?”

“Hey, Sayaka. I’m actually not sure myself… It was like this when I got here.”

Sayaka pushed up her glasses, noticing the writing on the blackboard and the presents on the desk.

“Are those birthday gifts…? I thought your birthday was two days ago. Why now?”

“Probably because we didn’t have school. I’m guessing one or two people must have brought her a birthday present today, and when others started noticing the pile, they quickly went out and bought something as well…and here we are,” Masachika presumed, before suddenly furrowing his brow.

“…Hold up. Who was the first person to leave a present?”

He turned his attention back to the pile of presents. While they were calling it a pile of gifts, it wasn’t like the towering pyramids of enormous gift boxes you would see in anime or manga. There was only one large box. The other gifts were thinly wrapped packages or small, palm-sized gift boxes. Scattered across the desk were snacks, drinks, and stationery that had obviously been purchased at the school shop as well.

“I mean, it’s obvious the stationery and drinks here are presents from people in our class.”

As Masachika’s eyes swept across the room, his classmates suddenly all wore identical sheepish expressions as if to say, “Guilty as charged.”

“Yeah, we couldn’t just sit here and get her nothing.”

“Like, I feel bad we couldn’t get her something better, but we figured it was better than nothing…”

“Oh, don’t feel bad. You have no idea how happy I am. If anything, I feel bad for not getting you all anything for your birthdays. Thank you so much. That said…I can’t help but notice all the cans of sweet red bean soup…”

A quick glance revealed over five cans of sweet red bean soup, drawing a somewhat conflicted look from Alisa. Without missing a beat, the entire class shifted their eyes toward Masachika, as if he were to blame. Feeling uncomfortable at suddenly being in the spotlight, he cleared his throat awkwardly and muttered:

“Yeah, well, uh… Let’s organize this stuff… How about we put all of it on my desk for now?”

Masachika then slid his desk alongside Alisa’s, and together they organized the non-wrapped presents: snacks, juice, and stationery. What remained were numerous carefully wrapped presents, presumably placed there by someone other than their classmates. They examined each one, checking the back and sides, but there weren’t any cards or really anything to identify who the gifts were from. There was only a single ribboned sticker with Happy Birthday!! written on it, which at least made it clear they were birthday gifts. However…

“None of the presents say who they’re from…”

“And now that I think about it, there aren’t really that many people who even know when your birthday is, right? Any idea who knows other than the people that went to your party?”

“…No.”

A stack of mysterious gifts, all from anonymous senders, without a single clue as to their origins… Both Masachika and Alisa were naturally hesitating about touching the increasingly suspicious pile…when Sayaka suddenly broke her silence.

“Hmm… This is starting to feel a little suspicious. I—the disciplinary committee—should hold on to these for now.”

“What? Why?”

“Because bringing non-school related items to school is a violation of the rules, and said rule is subject to enforcement by the disciplinary committee. Besides…”

Sayaka, after subtly glancing around herself, then stepped a little closer to Alisa and Masachika and whispered:

“There’s also the possibility that these were left here by one of your rival’s fans in order to sabotage your chances in the election, so it’d be better if we opened them together alongside the rest of the disciplinary committee.”

“…!!”

Her observation snapped Masachika back to reality. The high school hadn’t seen any sort of scummy election interference since the incident at the school festival, so he had grown completely complacent. However, Sayaka was absolutely right.

Yeah… This could easily be some kind of bad prank related to the election…

Finding needles or thumbtacks in the gifts would be downright charming compared to what some lowlifes might try. Nevertheless, this was Seirei Academy’s election—this was war. It was entirely within the realm of possibility that someone might have hidden a microphone or a camera inside the gifts, which they could easily exploit to expose their opponent’s secrets or weaknesses.

I wouldn’t put it past some motivated scumbag like Yuushou to do something like that…

After Masachika’s expression twisted slightly at the thought, he gave Sayaka a small nod of gratitude.

“Thanks, Sayaka. Things have been so peaceful lately that I let my guard down,” he said softly.

He thereupon turned toward Alisa and deliberately spoke in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

“We should do as Sayaka says. Who knows? Some sick fan of yours might have gotten you something really weird.”

“Good point. Thanks, Sayaka.”

“Not at all. Anyway, I’ll call for help.”

No sooner had she said that than Sayaka pulled a transceiver from her pocket.

“Is that…a two-way radio?”

But despite Alisa’s bewilderment, Sayaka just pressed a button and began speaking into the transceiver.

“This is Taniyama, year one. I need three first-year students to come to classroom 1-B to transport around ten suspicious items to the disciplinary committee room. Over.”

A few moments passed after she released the button before several voices began responding one after another through the transceiver.

“This is Fukunaga, year one. I’ll be there in ten seconds. Over.”

“Why even respond if you’re going to be here in ten seconds?”

“This is Fox. Be there in a minute. Over.”

“Uh… Why does he have a code name?”

“This is Maesawa, year one. I still have to finish my homework for first period, but I’ll be there. Over.”

“No! Finish your homework!”

Though Masachika couldn’t keep his mouth shut, nobody on the other end could hear him since it was a simplex transceiver. Regardless, it wasn’t long before the three reinforcements arrived one by one and helped cart the gifts out the door.

“You’ve become quite popular,” Sayaka remarked while they gathered the gifts.

“Huh?”

“All the birthday wishes you got earlier. The old you would have never been wished happy birthday so casually by your peers.”

Alisa pondered this detached observation for a moment before slowly nodding.

“Yeah… I do think it’s definitely something I should be grateful for. I mean, being wished happy birthday by everyone today…”

Alisa, though slightly embarrassed, smiled genuinely and with heartfelt joy as if she were finally starting to realize it herself.

“…made me so happy.”

“…I’m glad,” replied Sayaka, her expression remaining unchanged as she glanced at Alisa out of the corner of her eye. She then faced forward and added, “But be careful. The more attention you get and the more popular you become, the more people start to resent you.”

“…Yeah. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Alisa smiled gently at Sayaka’s seemingly nonchalant yet sound advice, then, as if suddenly remembering something, asked:

“By the way, Sayaka… Do disciplinary committee members always carry two-way radios on them?”

“Yes. Smartphones—unless it’s an emergency—are prohibited, after all. Besides, these are more convenient if you want to give orders to multiple people at once.”

“Oh, come on. Half of it is basically you just wanting to pretend like you’re a member of the special forces. I mean, why even call for backup? We could have just stuffed all these gifts into a plastic bag and brought them to the disciplinary committee room ourselves.”

Sayaka raised an eyebrow at Masachika’s retort as she stared up into his eyes.

“So you’re willing to throw someone else’s presents into a plastic bag like garbage? Where are your manners?”

“Oh, uh… Still, couldn’t we have just gotten everyone here to help?”

“As long as there’s a possibility of danger, then we cannot ask for non-committee members to help.”

“…All good points, but admit it: you just wanted to play with your two-way radio, right?”

“Not at all.”

Masachika gazed intently at Sayaka’s prim, unamused expression, then—

“By the way, do you have a code name, too?”

“…! N-no, of course not…”

“Uh-huh…”

“What?”

“You stuttered.”

“Because you asked something incredibly bizarre.” She huffed, turning away with irritation and peevishly marching into the disciplinary committee room. But after everyone had placed their presents on the long table, a male student, who had introduced himself as Fox earlier, shifted his gaze toward Sayaka with a grin and declared:

“Mission complete. Need anything else, Noir?”

“I knew it!”

“All right, let’s start opening the gifts.”

“““Roger!”””

Sharp, strong voices responded in unison to Chisaki’s call.

After school, Masachika and Alisa made their way to the disciplinary committee room to find it already packed with members, including both its president and vice president.

“Uh… I really appreciate that everyone came to help…but isn’t this a little much? There aren’t even enough presents for everyone to open one.” Masachika smirked in a troubled manner, taken aback by how many people were there. The president, Chisaki, however, shot him a quizzical look.

“What are you talking about? I’m the only one that’s going to be opening anything today,” she replied.

“What…? Why?”

“Because I can handle it if it ends up being something dangerous.”

“Are you being serious?”

“What do you mean by ‘handle’?”

But despite Masachika’s and Alisa’s skepticism, Chisaki nodded with complete seriousness, then gestured behind them with a subtle glance.

“I’m dead serious. Now, go stand behind the shields.”

Masachika’s eye twitched as he turned to discover three individuals equipped with transparent, reinforced, plastic shields—the kind he had only ever seen police carrying on TV.

“Come on, you’re not defusing a bomb. Why does the disciplinary committee room even have shields?”

“For riot control, obviously.”

“You’re never going to need these—oh, wait.”

Masachika grimaced as he recalled the recent chaos from the school festival, then glanced around at the others and tilted his head.

“Hold up. Why did you need this many people if you’re the only one who gets to open presents?”

“‘Why’? Because there’s no telling what’s in these boxes. We need all the fighting power we can get.”

“‘Fighting power’? What are you expecting to find?”

“…Worst case scenario: a child-snatching box.”

“Seriously, what do you think this is?!”

“Anyway, the Renyouhou Renheki Gaiju isn’t reacting, so I think we’re okay.”

“There it is: the ultimate weapon from the final dungeon.”

Masachika’s eyes went slightly vacant the moment he spotted the black prayer beads wound around Chisaki’s right wrist. But upon closer inspection, he realized that Sumire, along with the Sisters of the Four Seasons, were also equipped with the same replica swords they had wielded at the school festival. Other members of the committee brandished brass knuckles, special batons, and even talismans. Meanwhile, Sayaka…seemed to be holding an iron fan.

“…Is the disciplinary committee secretly fighting monsters from another dimension after school or something?” Masachika asked with a note of exasperation, prompting Chisaki and the other disciplinary committee members to simultaneously furrow their brows, casting their gazes toward the ceiling.

“Hey?! Come on?! Say something! Why is everyone looking around like I’m onto something?!”

“What is going on at our school? I’m starting to worry that I’m not fit to lead the entire student body…”

“Nah, I mean, Touya can do it, so…”

But Masachika fell silent before he even finished his sentence, suddenly realizing that Touya had the vice president to take care of the shadows of Seirei Academy.

“…Then again, I guess he has a professional to handle stuff like this.”

“Yeah…”

Sensing it was best not to pry, Masachika and Alisa quietly slipped behind the shields, pressing themselves against the wall. Meanwhile, Chisaki, having made sure they were safe, shifted her attention back to the presents on the desk.

“All right, I’m going to open the gifts.”

“““Roger!”””

Masachika and Alisa recoiled slightly at the committee members’ overly enthusiastic reply as they watched Chisaki immediately reach for the largest box.

“I’m going to start with the biggest one, okay?”

“Oh, sure. Go ahead.”

Once she received the recipient’s approval, Chisaki meticulously peeled away the tape, opening the package without tearing a single piece of the wrapping paper.

“Oh, wow. That’s actually pretty difficult to do.”

“Yeah, no matter how careful you are, the tape usually ends up ripping some of the print off the wrapping paper when you peel it off.”

“Right? And sometimes you want to save the wrapping paper so you can use it again someday, but you have to throw it away because it ripped.”

While they found themselves oddly captivated by her expertise, which was entirely irrelevant to the matter at hand, Chisaki began folding the wrapping paper and mentioned:

“By the way, of course, I’m being careful because these presents don’t belong to me, but it’s not only that; I’m being cautious just in case there are razor blades glued to the back of the wrapping paper.”

“…Oh. Right.”

“Of course, I’ve already conquered razor blades.”

“‘Conquered’?”

While Masachika’s expression went vacant at the utterly bleak reality of her logic, Chisaki finally placed her hands on the box itself.

“All right, I’m opening the box.”

“““…!!”””

The surrounding disciplinary committee members collectively braced themselves, prompting Masachika and Alisa to recoil again.

“One, two, three!”

“““…!!”””

Do they have to react to every little thing she says?!

But Masachika kept that thought to himself, afraid to voice it aloud for some reason. Without delay, Chisaki opened the box with a satisfying pop, gazed inside, then slowly reached in before pulling out what appeared to be a homemade plush toy—white, fluffy, and…

“Is that…a goat? Or is it a sheep? Or a cat?”

“Beats me…”

Masachika tilted his head in curiosity alongside Alisa. From a distance, it seemed to bear no horns or ears, and its face was a furry mess, making it hard to identify. It was so goofy-looking, however, that some people might have found it cute. Then again, most people would probably just find it unsettling, especially with its red eyes.

“…It’s a plushie. A homemade one, too, I think.”

After flipping it over in her hands and thoroughly examining it, Chisaki decided to rummage deeper inside the box.

“There’s no letter. No name, either.”

“““…!!”””

“Seriously? Overreact much?” Masachika pointed out, as if he couldn’t help himself. The disciplinary committee members were either being good sports and playing along, or these were conditioned responses from some sort of absurd training.

Meanwhile, Chisaki, who had been re-examining the plushie, suddenly froze for a moment before gripping it tightly in her hand, prodding it with her fingers while furrowing her brow.

“There’s something inside.”

“““!!”””

Even Masachika and Alisa were visibly taken aback this time. As the tension in the room noticeably rose, Chisaki continued to feel around the plush toy with her fingers.

“It’s hard… It’s shaped…like a rectangular box? No, the corners are round… Size-wise, it’d fit in the palm of my hand…”

She placed the plushie down for a moment and shifted her eyes toward Alisa.

“What do you want to do, Alya? I could tear it open and check, but…”

Alisa pondered for a few seconds with a slightly stiff expression…then shook her head.

“No, we’ll save that as a last resort. Let’s first check the other gifts and see if we can find a name.”

“All right.” Chisaki nodded seriously as she reached for the next present. Meanwhile, Masachika watched intently while lightly touching Alisa’s arm.

“…You okay?”

“…Yeah, I’m fine.”

Inside the handmade plush toy from an anonymous sender was a mysterious, rigid object—something that would stir unease in just about anyone, yet Alisa bravely nodded. As Masachika silently admired her courage, she gently placed her hand over his and softly whispered:

“<…Because you’re here with me.>”

“…!”

Masachika, for once, didn’t blush at her trust in him. Instead, he simply made a resolute vow in his heart to protect her, and without a word, their hands found each other, clasping tightly as they watched the remaining gifts being unwrapped…

“…It’s perfume. No signs of tampering.”

Despite the palpable tension filling the room, the remaining gifts were relatively benign and standard feminine fare: handkerchiefs, jewelry, cosmetics. The only “handmade” item in the bunch was a handkerchief embroidered with Alisa’s initials.

It was a tiny bit concerning that there weren’t any easy, go-to gifts like food, and instead were things you would wear or use for personal care. However, food would frankly be more disturbing given the circumstance, so this was probably a blessing in disguise. The real issue was…

“No name or letter.”

“““…!!”””

Not a single sender could be identified thus far. The complete anonymity of it all strongly suggested that these gifts came from either a coordinated group with a unified purpose, or from a single individual.

This is starting to get really suspicious… I hope we don’t have to, but we might need to throw everything away, just to be on the safe side…

But as that thought crossed Masachika’s mind, Alisa’s left hand suddenly began to squirm seemingly uncomfortably in his hand.

Hmm? Am I holding her hand too tight?

After he eased his grip slightly, Alisa readjusted her hand in his, then began gently caressing his palm with her thumb.

Oh? Ah…

He quickly recognized that she was writing on his palm with her finger using the technique he taught her, his brain semi-automatically registering what she was trying to convey.

“Hold me.”

In an instant, an image flashed through Masachika’s mind of Alisa whispering with tears in her eyes, “I’m scared… Hold me.” Yet when he glanced to his side, he noticed her lips were pressed tightly together, faintly wiggling, prompting him to inwardly roar.

Youuu little…!! A surprise attack?! You really thought you wouldn’t get caught, huh? Don’t you dare underestimate me!

Though internally heavily breathing, Masachika managed to write on her palm with his stiff, tense fingers.

“What was that?”

He immediately saw Alisa grinning out of the corner of his eye, but pretended not to notice as she traced his palm once more.

“Hold my.”

You really think you can fool me? Oh, I was one letter off? It felt like an E, but it was actually a Y?

Masachika promptly wrote her back.

“Hold your what?”

“Ribbon.”

Ribbon?

He then immediately looked at the ribbon tied in her hair.

What? Does she want me to hold her ribbon? Does that mean she wants me to untie it for her, too? But…

Masachika inadvertently glanced at the other ribbon—her school uniform’s ribbon tie adorning her neck, only to be met with her chilling glare.

“What are you looking at?”

“Wh-what? Nothing…”

“Perv,” she whispered under her breath before sharply facing forward once more.

Oh, come on. That wasn’t fair at all.

But he still couldn’t help but shrug it off and let it go when he saw her laughing.

…Eh, whatever. At least, it got her thinking about something else.

But right as he shifted his eyes forward as well, Alisa glanced up at his profile, her fingers lightly brushing her ribbon tie as she mischievously whispered:

“<Do you want to untie my ribbon?>” The seductive whisper made his eardrums tremble, leaving him frozen in place. Then, still peering at his profile, Alisa continued in an inviting, alluring tone, “<I don’t mind if it’s you.>”

Don’t you dare tempt me!

The devastating power forced Masachika to seriously reevaluate his life, all while maintaining a straight face. Had they been alone at home, he might have actually lost control and pushed her onto his bed. Meanwhile, entirely unaware of the storm she had stirred within him, Alisa faced forward once more, wearing her usual smug expression—the one she would make when she was so giddy he had no idea what she was saying.

You’re the one who’s clueless. Do I need to show you how terrifying a guy going through puberty can be?

While his cheek twitched on the side Alisa couldn’t see, Masachika directed a strained smile at her in his mind…then exhaled to calm himself. Now wasn’t the time to be flustered by his partner exposing herself through her affectionate Russian whispers.

Hmph! You’re lucky I’m a gentleman!

But he kept that irritated remark to himself while he directed his attention back to Chisaki.

The birthday gift unboxing was at last in its final stages, with only two thin packages remaining. Chisaki promptly opened one of them, revealing some clothes when—

“…!”

With a soft rustle, an envelope sealed with a flower sticker fell to the floor, making Chisaki’s eyebrow twitch. Immediately, Masachika, Alisa, and all the disciplinary committee members held their breath, for a letter—or something resembling one—had finally appeared. However…

“Whoa!” Chisaki suddenly exclaimed, instantly drawing everyone’s gaze away from the envelope on the floor…and to the bright red negligee in her hands. And not just any negligee—one with absurdly thin fabric that was so transparent you could practically see the other side, leaving little to the imagination. But as all eyes were locked on the R-rated attire, Chisaki, mute in disbelief, suddenly muttered:

“…I wonder if Touya likes lingerie like this?”

“““Milady?””” muttered the Sisters of the Four Seasons in unison, their faces unusually solemn, prompting Chisaki to clear her throat, give the negligee a quick once-over, then swiftly set it back down on the table.

“Ah! Uh…! Nothing out of the ordinary here.”

She then reached for the envelope with a sharp, piercing gaze, her expression tightening.

“I’m going to open it.”

That single utterance put everyone on edge. They wondered what a letter from someone bold enough to send such an indecent garment could possibly contain. As every eye locked on her with bated breath, Chisaki opened the envelope and drew out what looked to be a multi-page letter…

“…! This…”

“Sisters of the Four Seasons, unsheathe your blades!”

“““Hyah!”””

“Calm down!” shouted Masachika as they revealed their blades, but they paid no heed to his cries, readying their replica swords…until Chisaki raised a hand to stop them. She thereupon approached Masachika and Alisa.

“…Alya—no—Kuze, come here.”

“What? Me?”

“Yeah, here. Read this.”

Masachika took the letter and briefly scanned through it…before his expression suddenly contorted in disbelief.

“What…the…?”

What was written in the letter…was exactly the kind of creepy, poem-like ramblings you would expect a stalker to write—obsessing over Alisa’s hair, skin, eyes, even her body. It was just page after page of slop about the silver maiden’s appearance. While it was supposedly praising her to the highest degree…the way it was written was truly revolting. In fact, it was so disgusting that reading it aloud would be a disservice to all those with ears. Unsurprisingly, there was no name signed at the end—just a chilling line that roughly read, “I think these clothes would look so nice on you.”

What kind of creep wrote this garbage?

Masachika grimaced in disgust, since the whole thing just reeked of “deranged fan who sends lingerie to his favorite pop star.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s, uh…”

He instinctively paused and folded the letter. It was clear why Chisaki had handed it to him first, since this wasn’t something one would want to show the person that it was meant for. Obviously, that wasn’t going to fly with Alisa, though.

Hmm…

After hesitating for a few seconds and exchanging eye contact with Chisaki, Masachika held out the letter to Alisa.

“You don’t have to force yourself to read the whole thing. You only need to read the first few lines to get the gist of it.”

“…? Okay…”

Alisa frowned and lowered her gaze to the letter, but as her eyes moved down the page, her expression gradually continued to contort with each passing sentence.

“Wh-what is this…? E-ew! Gross!”

She flung the letter away as though it were the vilest thing she had ever laid hands on, but Masachika caught it midair, then handed it back to Chisaki while looking at Alisa with concern.

“Alya, are you okay?”

“…Y-yeah, I’m fine… I just got goose bumps. That’s all.”

She frowned, rubbing her arm as a chill ran down her spine. Chisaki, meanwhile, stared at the letter with steely eyes.

“Don’t worry, Alya. We will check these gifts for fingerprints if we have to,” she declared.”

“Th-thanks.”

“Yeah, I can walk you to and from school every day if I need to, too.”

“Masachika… Th-thank you. I’m fine, though…”

“Don’t worry about me. If this really is a stalker, there’s no such thing as being too careful. I’m going to stick to you like glue, whether you like it or not.”

“Masachika…”

“Of course, we, the disciplinary committee will be here to protect you as well. We need to find who was behind this before things escalate.”

“…All right.”

The reassuring words of Alisa’s partner and Chisaki seemed to have calmed her, so she exhaled softly and faced Chisaki.

“I’m okay, now. Please continue,” she assured.

“…All right, this is the last one.”

Chisaki sent her a gaze that was both reassuring and tender, then returned to the table, picked up the last package, and opened it, revealing yet another article of clothing. This time, it appeared to be some sort of evening gown with a large open back and a daringly high slit extending from the hem, past the thigh, and all the way up to the waist.

“““…”””

Everyone was quiet. In the overwhelming silence, Chisaki quietly placed the dress on the table, picked up a bamboo sword that had been leaning against the desk, pointed it sharply at the entrance, and calmly ordered:

“Move out. Our enemy is the handicraft club.”

“““Roger!!”””

With spirited voices, all the members of the disciplinary committee—except the three protecting Masachika and Alisa—formed ranks and charged out the door in unison. Meanwhile, Masachika narrowed his unenthusiastic gaze as he watched Sayaka march out of the room with her iron fan. She’s becoming exactly like them, he mused.

Minutes later, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway as the handicraft club members were escorted into the disciplinary committee room one by one. Perhaps from sheer habit after being disciplined so often by the committee, the female students dropped to their knees on the carpet without being told as Chisaki loomed over them, her bamboo sword striking her palm with sharp, rhythmic slaps.

“So? Do you know why you were brought here?”

But perhaps because they were regulars, the handicraft club members did not cower even during Chisaki’s intimidating interrogation.

“What?! We haven’t done anything wrong yet today!”

“This is an abuse of power! How dare you interrupt our club activities like this!”

“Yes, you’re going to let our inspiration get away before we get a chance to use it!”

Chisaki’s temple pulsed, a vein bulging visibly as she grabbed the dress from the table amid their boisterous protests.

“Uh-huh… Use it for something like this?”

She held up the dress with its daring slit, immediately provoking a reaction from the most obvious culprit.

“Oh, that’s…the present I made for Alisa Kujou.”

“Of course it was you, Pro-Slit.”

“Huh? What are you doing here?”

The female student with long black hair tied back in a ponytail, whom Masachika had dubbed Professor Side Slit, turned around. Only then did she seem to notice Masachika and Alisa standing by the wall as Masachika glared coldly back at her and growled in a voice dripping with resentment:

“We’re here because someone anonymously gave Alya a bunch of suspicious birthday gifts, and we needed the disciplinary committee to make sure there was nothing dangerous in the mix.”

“‘Suspicious’? They’re ordinary gifts.”

Immediately, one of the handicraft club members sat perfectly upright on her knees, spine straight, and addressed Chisaki with dignified resolve.

“Exactly! These are offerings to our goddess! The goddess of physiques! There is absolutely nothing shady about these gifts!”

“The goddess of physiques?”

“Do I need to spell it out for you?!”

Even in the face of the school’s formidable “Donna,” the female student showed no hesitation as she pointed directly at Alisa, making her jump.

“Her height! The size of her face! The width of her shoulders! The length of her legs! How her waist is almost comically thin compared to that chest and rear! Her perfect, tight figure! If she’s not a goddess, then what is she?!”

“So you’re the one who wrote that disgusting letter.”

“Excuse me?! ‘Disgusting’?!”

“Sit down.”

But just as the female student eagerly started to stand up, Chisaki pressed her down with the tip of her bamboo sword. Though it appeared she had merely placed the sword’s tip against her shoulder, that alone was enough to prevent the girl from standing all the way up, and after trembling for several seconds, she eventually sank back down, sitting on her knees with a frustrated expression. Incidentally, her ladylike demeanor had completely vanished—a fact no one found interesting.

“Anyway, mystery solved. All these gifts for Alya came from the handicraft club, right?”

“…Right.”

“Why didn’t you write your names?”

Immediately, the handicraft club members each averted their gazes with bashful smiles.

“Because…we’re embarrassed.”

“We’re not close friends with her either… We’re simply secret admirers…”

“I was elated simply knowing that a goddess was going to be robed in my gift…”

“If we wrote our names, it’d make it seem like we wanted something back and wanted her to know who we were, and we couldn’t do something as shameless as that…”

“It’d ruin the purity of our offerings…or something like that?”

“Why is this the only time you’re ever modest?”

As Chisaki scratched her head with an expression mixing exasperation and irritation, Masachika suddenly interjected:

“Don’t mean to interrupt, but how did the handicrafts club even know it was Alya’s birthday?”

“Hmm? Oh, we heard about it from Nonoa Miyamae when she stopped by…”

“…Oh, her?”

It wouldn’t be surprising if the information came from Nonoa, since she was invited to the birthday party and might have casually let it slip during conversation. Plus, it wouldn’t be strange for the handicrafts club—a group of passionate nutjobs—to know Nonoa, given that she modeled for her parents’ company. But just as Masachika and Alisa were beginning to feel satisfied with this explanation, Chisaki picked up the mysterious plushie.

“One more question. There’s something inside this stuffed animal. What is it?”

The female student, who appeared to be the creator of the plushie, suddenly raised her voice in a flustered manner.

“Ah… I-it’s nothing weird! It’s a button, and when you press it, it makes an animal sound!”

“What? It makes a sound?”

Chisaki once again squeezed and kneaded the plushie, searching for this surprisingly elaborate mechanism for a handmade gift. Meanwhile, Masachika and Alisa exhaled, relieved that this was all it was.

“Phew. Thank goodness it wasn’t anything dangerous, huh?”

“Yeah… I’m relieved. That was quite the commotion.”

“It was all made with good intentions, at least.”

“Yeah.”

They wore deflated smiles at the anticlimactic conclusion, their worries having been completely unfounded.

“Hmm? Oh, is this it?”

Chisaki gave what appeared to be the button a firm squeeze.

“Nnngooozoooi!”

A sudden, blood-curdling shriek tore through the disciplinary committee room—like a goat bleating that had been mechanically distorted and warped—an abhorrent, otherworldly sound that humans viscerally recoiled from as it assaulted every fiber of their being. While nearly everyone present turned to stone, as if confronted by some eldritch horror, the female creator exclaimed with gleeful excitement:

“See?! It’s so cute, right? It’s an original character that I came up with myself! I call her Nmbotta!”

“Take her to the cellar.”

“““Roger!”””

“Why…?!”

As the female student was restrained by the Sisters of the Four Seasons and escorted out of the disciplinary committee room, not a single soul tried to stop them—not even anyone in the handicraft club.

“…What’s the ‘cellar’?”

“…It’s probably better you don’t know.”

Their voices faded into the empty silence of the now calm disciplinary committee room, and thus, the Mystery Gift Incident came to a close. Incidentally, Alisa ended up taking the presents home with her as well.

“Ah, Alya. Are you, uh… Are you gonna wear that?”

“I’m not sure… Did you want it, Chisaki?”

“Huh? No? Of course not!”

“…Regardless of if I’m going to wear it or not, I guess I should take it with me, since they made it just for me…”

“O-oh… Yeah…”

“…You sure you don’t want it?”

“I don’t!!”

Alisa ended up taking the see-through negligee home as well after her strange exchange with Chisaki. However…

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m going to be able to take this one home…”

The mildly traumatizing Nmbotta was left behind, and the next day, it mysteriously vanished from the disciplinary committee room…yet not a single soul bothered to search for it.

Chapter 8. And then, the seed had been sown.

A little earlier that day, during lunch, Alisa slipped out of the classroom alone and made her way to the cafeteria. She was in search of something bland to eat, since her stomach was still aching from the curry she’d had for breakfast. Incidentally, she had kindly forced Maria to take the sandwich she bought this morning.

“Yooo, Alisa. What a coincidence.”

“Nonoa.”

But on her way, she ran into Nonoa, who was coming out of her classroom, and stopped.

“Eating lunch at the cafeteria today?”

“Yeah, you too?”

“Yeah, let’s go together.”

“Oh, uh… All right.”

Though she was momentarily flustered by the thought of being alone with Nonoa for a change, she agreed since there was no reason to refuse.

It’s unusual to see her alone during lunch like this. She’s usually surrounded by people.

However, she didn’t give it much more thought as they walked together toward the cafeteria…when a few passing students suddenly commented:

“Oh, hey. Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday.”

“Y-yeah, thanks?”

In fact, even people whose names she didn’t know had been congratulating her every single time she had stepped outside the classroom. However, she still wasn’t used to it, managing only awkward smiles in return. Nevertheless, that alone seemed to please her schoolmates, sending them away beaming with joy.

“Look at you. So popular now,” Nonoa said in an emotionless, monotone voice as they walked away.

“I’m not popular. Everyone is just messing with me. That’s all…”

“Hmm? Like, I guess there’s a little bit of teasing? But that’s definitely not all of it. See for yourself.”

Alisa followed Nonoa’s gaze and glanced back at the two boys to find them excitedly throwing their arms around each other’s shoulders while playfully poking each other with their fingers.

“They’re legit ecstatic after getting to talk a girl they’ve probably been wanting to talk to for forever. At least, that’s how it looks to me.”

“…Really?”

Unsure how to even react, Alisa abruptly faced forward. Nonoa, however, indifferently continued:

“Of course, half the fun is probably teasing you. But that’s way better for your campaign than being avoided or just watched from a distance, right?”

“Yeah… I guess.”

Although she had a point, Alisa unfortunately wasn’t used to all this, so there was no way she was going to effortlessly navigate the situation.

I’m sure Yuki wouldn’t have a problem dealing with people like that. She’d just thank them with the most natural smile in the world…

While standing in line at the cafeteria’s ticket machine, she imagined her rival—the model gentlewoman—when Nonoa suddenly peered into her eyes.

“What’s wrong? Have a lot on your mind?”

“Oh! No, uh… I was just wondering what I could do to make these interactions a little less…awkward,” she stammered, hiding the fact that she had been comparing herself to Yuki.

“Ah,” Nonoa muttered, her eyes half closed.

“Like, you need to work on your smile. Then again, there is a market for your usual reactions, too…”

“A ‘market’? I don’t really know what that means, but I need to make my smile look more…bright, I guess?”

“Hmm… I guess you could practice if it’s bothering you?”

“…Yeah.”

Alisa attempted to craft a faint smile while waiting for her food, but was predictably having a rough time. Even she could tell that the corners of her mouth weren’t curling and her eyes were nearly lifeless.

“Mmm…”

“You just gotta get used to it. But, like, from what I can see, you look like you’re trying too hard.”

“Wait. Really?”

“You don’t have to put a hundred percent into your smile. You just need to remain calm and thank them, then it’ll look less awkward.”

“…You’re probably right.”

Nonoa had a point. Until then, Alisa had been briefly caught off-guard whenever people approached her and scrambled to smile and thank them, which only made her seem more awkward. Therefore, simply eliminating that initial moment of hesitation would probably make her appear much more refined.

“Okay, I’m going to give it a try.”

But right as she set her food on the table and sank into her seat, a passing trio of male students happened to spot Alisa, and their eyes shined with pleasant surprise.

“Happy birthday, Alisa Kujou.”

“Oh, right. I heard it was her birthday. Congrats.”

“Happy birthday.”

Seizing the perfect opportunity, Alisa immediately put her newfound insight to the test.

“Thanks.”

She simply met their gaze directly and expressed her gratitude without a trace of panic. The three boys, who had originally approached with half-teasing grins, briefly opened their eyes wide…until their expressions dissolved into goofy, bashful smiles and they hurried away looking completely smitten.

“…Was that good?”

Though Alisa sought her friend’s opinion from across the table, Nonoa slightly tilted her head, her eyes narrowed in a judgmental glare.

“Yeah…? But, like, maybe you overdid it a bit?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Although Alisa didn’t understand what she meant, Nonoa’s observation was spot-on. Those boys had most likely figured they’d try talking to the solitary princess while teasing her a bit, but when they actually approached her, there was none of Alisa’s usual flustered reaction that they had expected. Instead, she met them head-on with straightforward gratitude, all while displaying her overwhelming beauty to the fullest.

Obviously, those boys had harbored no shortage of ulterior motives, seizing this chance to approach a beautiful, popular girl, so it was only natural that they were the ones who got flustered and embarrassed instead.

“Eh, whatever. Looks like you got yourself a few new fans, too.”

“What? Really…?”

But I don’t even want fans, Alisa mused briefly, before recognizing that her campaign’s supporters were essentially just that—fans—and giving a reluctant nod. But right after she clapped once and picked up her chopsticks to dig into her udon, a voice drifted over from two seats away.

“Must be pretty pleased with yourself.”

Alisa didn’t think the comment was even directed at her at first.

“Look at you, all smiling and giddy, even after being called into the disciplinary committee room.”

However, doubt slowly began to creep in as the stranger kept speaking, especially since there was no one sitting next to Alisa, so she glanced sideways…and she found herself caught in the hostile stare of a scowling female student. Since Nonoa was the only other person nearby, it became painfully clear that those rude comments were meant for Alisa.

“Called into the disciplinary committee room”?

She reflected on the stranger’s words for a moment before concluding it was probably about this morning’s incident. This female student had either witnessed firsthand or heard from someone about Alisa carrying all those presents to the disciplinary committee room alongside the disciplinary committee members and was likely misunderstanding the situation. Therefore, Alisa decided to cautiously correct her.

“Uh… I think there might be some sort of misunderstanding. I had to stop by the disciplinary committee room this morning because someone anonymously placed a bunch of presents on my desk. I wasn’t called in to be disciplined.”

She did everything she could not to provoke the stranger while clarifying what happened, but the female student’s face only twisted with even more disgust.

“Oh, you’re so full of yourself. You put those presents there yourself because you wanted the attention.”

“Huh…?!”

As Alisa was left speechless at the utterly unreasonable accusation, the female student glared into her eyes with pure hatred and hissed contemptuously:

“I feel so bad for Yuki Suou. It must be so annoying having someone like this mess with her election campaign.”

Those eyes—those words brimming with hostility—suddenly reminded Alisa of what Sayaka had told her that morning.

“But be careful. The more attention you get and the more popular you become, the more people start to resent you.”

Alisa, though somewhat in a daze, figured that this must have been what she was talking about. Regardless, Nonoa, who had been quietly slurping her soba, suddenly spoke up.

“Yo, who even are you? You’re just some nobody talkin’ out of her ass.”

“What…?”

The student grimaced in disgust while she shifted her glare toward Nonoa. Nonoa, however, merely glanced at the girl out of the corner of her eye and added:

“You feel bad for Yuki? It must be annoying for her? Don’t put words in her mouth. Like, how she feels is totally none of your business, anyway.”

“I-it is my business! I’ve been a loyal supporter of hers ever since middle school!”

“A supporter? Uh-huh… And Yuki’s annoyed, you claim?”

“…She’s a nice person, so she isn’t going to complain. That’s why I have to—”

“So she didn’t say anything, and this is just how you feel, right?”

“N-no! Everyone’s agrees with me! Everyone feels bad for Yuki Suou because of her!”

The stranger’s voice grew louder, gradually drawing curious stares from other students, but Nonoa, utterly indifferent, calmly lifted her soba with her chopsticks and replied:

“Uh-huh. And, like, you’re speaking on their behalf, huh? You’re taking the hit and playing the bad guy so none of them have to. Is that what you’re saying?”

“…I wouldn’t put it that way exactly, but yes, that’s what I’m doing. So—”

“Who’s this ‘everyone’ that’s complaining? Be specific.”

“…What?”

“Tell me who’s specifically complaining about Alisa here. You, like, said everyone feels bad for Yuki, right? Unless you were lying.”

“I’m not! Everyone’s talking…like Yamaguchi, Zaitsu…,” the girl faltered, only to be immediately met with Nonoa’s piercing sideways glare.

“You just gave me their names.”

“What?”

“Like, I totally thought you were playing the bad guy so none of them had to, right? But if that were true, you wouldn’t have said their names.”

“…”

The female student fell silent, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Like, obviously,” Nonoa began, then clearly stating, “This is a hundred percent just you not liking her, right? You’re only thinking about yourself, but you’re using other people as excuses to complain. Must be annoying for these ‘friends’ to have you drag their name in the mud like that.”

The utterly merciless words rendered the girl completely speechless…and she grabbed her half-eaten meal and stormed off in a huff.

“Yeah, you run into people like that when you start standing out more. Anyway, you okay?” Nonoa muttered indifferently, barely glancing at the female student as she rushed away.

“Y-yeah, thanks… I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say, so…”

“Nah, it’s cool. Just something you gotta get used to,” Nonoa remarked nonchalantly, leaving Alisa at a loss for words and wondering if she would ever get used to this. Nonoa, however, indifferently continued:

“Like, you totally shouldn’t engage with people like that. Doesn’t matter if it’s a misunderstanding. Just ignore them. They’re honestly not the kind of person you can reason with.”

“I-I’ll be more careful from now on… Are you okay, though? She’s going to resent you for something you did for me…”

Alisa recalled how the female student had glared at Nonoa as she stormed off, but Nonoa continued to calmly eat her soba and replied:

“Don’t care. I’m used to it. Besides, I did that all on my own, so don’t let it bother you.”

“…”

But even then, Alisa couldn’t shake her unease, knowing the entire confrontation had started simply because she had taken the bait the girl had dangled before her.

It looks like I have to work on how I handle people insulting me, too…

She began to reflect on her actions while eating her udon when Nonoa casually remarked:

“Anyway, you seemed to have run into a little trouble, huh?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I received so many anonymous gifts…”

“Not that. I’m talking about what happened after your birthday party the other day.”

Alisa briefly froze, then apologetically lowered her eyebrows. After returning from the Suou house the day before yesterday, she had told everyone at the party that she had gone to visit Yuki, who had the flu and was feeling lonely, to see how she was doing and thank her for the birthday gift.

Though a painfully vague explanation that omitted countless details, no one pressed her for answers, perhaps due to their trust in her. Nevertheless, it was that very trust that only added to Alisa’s guilt.

“I… I’m sorry about leaving my party all of a sudden like that…”

“Oh, no. It’s cool.”

Nonoa then quickly scanned their surroundings to make sure they weren’t being watched anymore and whispered:

“Like, Kuze left the Suou family, right? So the fact that he went back to see Yuki must mean that a lot happened, right?”

“Eh…?”

Noticing Alisa caught off guard with her eyes wide with surprise, Nonoa raised an eyebrow and continued:

“Wait. Kuze didn’t tell you? Like, I know about him and Yuki.”

“What?! Y-you do?!” Alisa blurted out before quickly clamping her mouth shut and glancing around. But once she made sure no one was watching, her shoulders sank in visible relief.

“Yep. Saya knows, too.” Nonoa nodded as if it weren’t a big deal.

“O-oh…”

Something murky stirred in Alisa’s chest. It was the fact that Nonoa and Sayaka had known Masachika’s secret before she did, and it created a faint but undeniable sense of distrust and disappointment with Masachika for not having told her.

Nonoa, however, could almost smell her despair as she deliberately chose her words with careful ambiguity.

“Ohhh, he didn’t tell you… Don’t get mad at him, though. Saya and I just happened to find out by chance.”

“…Oh.”

“I’m sure he’ll end up explaining everything to you soon? Not like he wanted to hide things from you, right?”

“…”

Though her schoolmate’s solace didn’t dispel the uncomfortable weight in her chest, Nonoa seemed to know what she was talking about, so Alisa decided she would wait for Masachika to explain things to her himself.

“…Yeah, you’re right.”

…Without even realizing that this was exactly what Nonoa had wanted.

“Anyway, what’s, like, bothering you?”

Alisa furrowed her brows, torn over whether she should say anything at all. Speaking honestly about what was bothering her would inevitably mean exposing details about Masachika’s situation, but was it really her place to reveal something so personal without his consent? The answer was obvious. Of course, it wasn’t. There was no need to even question it.

But…

But that murky feeling in her chest corroded her rational judgment. The reason Alisa wasn’t upset about Masachika keeping this secret from her until now was because she had believed he wasn’t hiding it only from her, but from everyone else as well. Believing that she was the first person he had revealed his secret to had honestly felt rather special as well.

Yeah, I thought I was the first person he told.

The fact that Nonoa and Sayaka had known before her changed everything.

…Plus, Nonoa’s my friend, and she just stood up for me, too… She seems to know a lot about Masachika as well, so maybe I could talk to her for a little bit?

Driven by frustration toward her partner, Alisa made a decision she normally wouldn’t even consider: she chose to tell Nonoa everything.

“This stays between us, okay?”

“Of course.”

“Masachika’s trying to get accepted back into the Suou family…but he was given one condition: become the student council president.”

“Oh my.”

Nonoa blinked a few times and tilted her head curiously.

“…So you two are gonna swap places?”

“No—well… That’s actually what’s bothering me right now.”

Though she started to reflexively deny it, Alisa quickly caught herself and decided to come clean.

“I’ve been thinking that maybe I should let him run for president, given the circumstances…”

“Hmm…,” Nonoa muttered, gazing off into space while Alisa stared vacantly at her half-eaten udon.

“President Kuze, huh? Can’t really imagine it…but he’s a smooth talker, so I guess he’d make a good president?”

“…”

But right as Alisa was lowering her head even more, Nonoa dropped her gaze and asked:

“By the way, like, why do you even want to be the student council president? If you wanna be a member of the First Light Committee, then being the vice president is just as good, you know?”

“Yeah…,” Alisa muttered faintly, then her voice trailed off into silence…while Nonoa studied her intently.

“I mean, it’s totally up to you what you want to do. Like, I’m gonna help with the new student council next year whether you’re the president or the vice president.”

Her words took the shape of encouragement while breeding doubt, ultimately causing Alisa to set down her chopsticks and fall deep into thought…while Nonoa continued to study her with emotionless, robotic eyes.

“Have you been waiting long?”

“Not at all, Ayanono.”

After parting with Alisa at the front of the cafeteria, Nonoa made her way to the emergency staircase and waited until Ayano silently approached her with her usual blank expression.

“First, I would like to thank you again for the other day. Thanks to your advice, I managed to get Master Masachika to visit Lady Yuki.”

“Don’t mention it. Like, I told you already, right? I’m on your side.”

Nonoa approached her slightly bowing schoolmate with a warm, easygoing smile and smoothly added:

“Sounds like a lot happened though, huh? Kuze wants to be accepted back into the Suou family?”

“What…? Uh…”

When Ayano lifted her head, her eyes briefly widened, wandering helplessly. Though she was typically hard for Nonoa to read, this reaction was laughably easy to comprehend. Ayano, on the other hand, was confused and suspicious, for she had no idea how Nonoa could possibly know something so private about the Suou family.

“…Did he tell you that?”

“Hmm? Ah, no. I heard it from Alisa.”

“Huh? Oh.”

“Yeah, in the cafeteria a second ago.”

The confusion and distrust that had bloomed within Ayano shifted toward Alisa while Nonoa coldly watched, clasping Ayano’s hands with both of hers.

“Anyway, I’m sure it’s not gonna be easy, but if you ever wanna talk, I’m here for you.”

And then, Nonoa declared with the most beautiful of smiles:

“Because I’m on your side, no matter what happens.”

“…Hey, uh… Masha?”

“Yes?”

“What is this? Some kind of hug speedrun?”

Meanwhile, Masachika, having been asked come to the student council room during lunch, was staring into the distance as Maria, who had dashed across the room the instant he stepped inside, threw her arms around him in a tight embrace.

“What’s a ‘speedrun’?”

“It’s where you—okay, your face is way too close now.”

She gazed into his eyes, their faces so close their noses nearly touched, prompting Masachika to instinctively lean back. But the moment he did, her entire face came sharply into view, overwhelming him all over again.

“Anyway, yeah. You’re right. Alya and Masha are cute…and they’re getting prettier every day. It’s getting to the point that it’s hard to believe they’re even human.”

He suddenly recalled Yuki’s comment. Maria clearly did seem to have gotten even more beautiful, or at least more radiant. However, he didn’t allow his mind to linger too much on the topic, worried that his heart might start to race in her embrace, so he averted his gaze.

“Don’t worry about it. More importantly…what is this?”

“Come, let’s sit first.”

“Uh-huh… I’m kind of scared by how naturally you held my hand.”

Just when he thought she was going to let go, she smoothly grabbed his hand and gently pulled him in so naturally that he shuddered. Maria then led him to the couch, settling him beside her before reaching for the teapot already waiting on the table and carefully pouring some tea into the cup in front of Masachika.

“Here, have some tea.”

“Thanks…”

Maria watched with a beaming smile as he took a sip of the tea, prompting Masachika to furrow his brow.

“So, uh… This is good, but what’s going on?” he asked.

“Hmm? I’m trying to reward you and make you feel appreciated.”

“Uh… For what?”

He shot her a puzzled glance, completely confused as to what was going on. Maria, however, placed the teapot back on the table, casually replying:

“You had a really rough night after the party, right? So I wanted to make you feel better.”

He knit his brows in thought for a few moments, then suddenly gasped. Gazing at Maria’s profile, which carried an air of quiet maturity, he asked in a whisper:

“Masha… Did you know all this time…?”

She had never shown any indication that she knew, nor had she ever brought it up, so he had naturally assumed she was unaware. But the way she was speaking now…

“Mm-hmm… Yes… I remember you telling me your last name and your sister’s name when we were little…so I assumed that you two were—you know? The way you looked at Yuki—your eyes were always so gentle. You looked at her the way someone looks at family—at your loved ones, so I assumed that had to be what was going on.”

She turned to face Masachika while speaking in a tender tone, and the brilliance in her eyes, quiet, yet unmistakably sharp, made his breath catch. But after he paused for several moments, he eventually let out a small sigh with a troubled, resigned smirk.

“You got me… You saw right through me.”

“Hmm? I won? Hurray. I won!”

“It’s not really a win-lose kind of thing…”

“Then as my right as the winner, I want to give head pats to the loser.”

“That’s like the most humiliating thing you can do to someone who just lost… Hey,” he mumbled, bashfully pulling back while she rubbed his head.

“Hey, uh… This is really embarrassing,” he added with an awkward grin, unable to simply push her hand away.

“Why? It’s just us here.”

“It’s not an issue of being caught…”

“Don’t worry. You’ve worked hard, so there’s nothing embarrassing about getting a few head pats.”

“Wow. It must be true, since you said it,” he uttered in a monotone voice, wondering where that mature, older woman from a few minutes ago had disappeared to. Maria, however, ignored his remark and simply continued to gently rub his head.

“There, there. I’m so proud of you.”

“…Hey, uh… What exactly did I even do to deserve this?”

“Hmm? I’m not sure, but I know that you’re doing your best.”

“…Yep.”

Just as he resigned himself to the idea that having a logical conversation might be hopeless, Maria gently announced:

“I know that you work hard, and I know that you are always putting others before yourself, so it’s going to be okay. No matter what decision you make, everything’s going to turn out okay. At the very least, I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Masachika stared at Maria—her gaze seemed to see through and accept all, her smile unbelievably sweet. His eyes naturally widened, and before he even realized it, his own lips had curled into a smile as well.

“Really…?”

“Really,” Maria said reassuringly, without asking questions or even knowing what was going on, and that was because she had absolute trust in Masachika Kuze. He strangely didn’t feel pressured or overwhelmed by that trust, either. If anything, it made his heart feel a little lighter.

“…Thank you, Masha.” He smiled, and just like that, she took her hand off his head and smiled back.

“Oh, by the way. I don’t mean to rush you, but don’t forget about our little promise, okay?” she added with a quirk of her head.

Masachika’s smile froze. His promise with Maria… He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what she was referring to. In fact, it was something that had been constantly sitting in the back of his mind: the promise he had made with Maria at the sports festival…about going on a very romantic date. The hurdle was so high that somewhere in his heart he had been thinking cowardly thoughts like, Maybe she’ll just forget. But of course, she hadn’t, and there was no way he could feign ignorance before that radiant smile.

“…I won’t forget.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to it!”

Maria clapped her hands together once, her smile blooming with genuine joy and once again conveying a deep trust in him…

What the…? That’s strange…

And because of that trust, Masachika’s heart, which had felt lighter only moments ago, suddenly plummeted like a heavy stone.

Chapter 9. And then, they faced each other.

Masachika and Alisa had been quietly doing paperwork in the student council room after the Mystery Gift Incident reached its conclusion.

“President Touya, I finished checking the files.”

“Oh, really? Just put them over there, then. I’ll go through them later.”

“All right.”

Touya was the only other person in the student council room. Chisaki apparently still had to have a “talk” with the handicrafts club, Yuki was still sick, and Ayano had gone home to take care of her. As for Maria, she had to go to a meeting with the broadcasting club, leaving behind only these three for a change.

“Uh? Kuze, you have a moment?”

“What’s up? Did I make a mistake?”

“Hmm… I’m not sure. Could you give this another look?”

“…Oh, you’re right! That’s definitely a mistake. Sorry about that!”

“I thought so. It’s not like you to make a mistake like this, though.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry. I’ll fix it…”

Alisa stared at him with slightly worried eyes as he returned to his seat with the documents, so he uncomfortably smiled back.

“You don’t have to rush. This is it for today. You too, Little Kujou. You can work on that tomorrow, right?” Touya asserted.

“Oh yeah. You’re right.”

“Okay, then. Let’s just wait for Big Kujou to get back, and then we can all go home,” Touya replied as he grabbed his tea and moved to the seat in front of Masachika.

“So?” He began, casually looking at them seated across from him as though he were trying to make small talk. “You two seem really out of it today. Is something bothering you?”

Both Masachika and Alisa froze simultaneously. But after they briefly exchanged glances, Masachika gave a hesitant nod, his expression slightly strained, and stated on their behalf:

“Yeah… Kind of.”

“Really? Well, I’m here to listen if you want to talk. This is my duty as the president of the student council.”

“The president’s duty is to listen to students’ problems?”

“Hmm? Uh… Well, at least right now it is!”

Touya probably had a picture of the ideal student council president in his head, offering them a reassuring smile before slightly relaxing his expression.

“I mean, there are some things you can’t talk to your family or your friends in class about, right? I’m not going to force you to talk, but I will listen if you decide to do so.”

His genuinely concerned gaze prompted Masachika to exchange glances with Alisa once more.

Alya’s problem…is, well, obviously my fault.

He had a vague idea of what was bothering her, but wasn’t entirely certain. Still, judging by her expression, it was clear this wasn’t something she wanted to discuss here.

Should I tell him what’s bothering me…?

Discussing the issue itself wasn’t problematic for Masachika, especially since Alisa already knew what was bothering him… The real challenge was figuring out how to explain it.

“Hey, I don’t really want to be a diplomat or the successor to the Suou family, so is it really right for me to steal that position away from Yuki?” Yeah, there’s no way I can tell him that.

He bit down on his lip and mulled it over for a moment before calmly saying:

“…I know it’s probably rude of me to ask you this, but…”

“No, go on.”

“So, uh… You didn’t want to actually be the president of the student council, right? You just did this so that Chisaki would start paying attention to you, right?”

“Hmm? Well, uh… Yeah, I guess.”

Touya shifted his gaze slightly upward to the side and nodded.

“So I’m not trying to insult you or come at you in any way at all, but…”

After leading with that, Masachika asked:

“Do you ever…feel guilty for becoming the president…since there were countless other candidates who seriously wanted the position itself?”

“…Hmm.”

Touya slowly crossed his arms and leaned against the backrest, then raised his eyebrows and muttered:

“When you joined the student council—no—actually, before you joined, I vaguely remember you mentioning something similar. You were talking about your motivations needing to be pure if you wanted to join the student council.”

“Oh… Right. Masha was there, too.”

“Yeah. But, uh… Back to your question… Do I ever feel guilty? Hmm…”

He tilted his head and thought for a while…then smirked awkwardly.

“Sorry, but to be honest, I never really even had a chance to think about it when I was elected. All I felt was happiness and a sense of accomplishment. And up until then, I had been running nonstop, so I genuinely never had time to think about the other candidates.”

“Oh… Huh.”

“I know what you’re trying to say, though. The privilege of this position—the privilege of being accepted into the First Light Committee—is something that some people would risk their life for, and while I’m not really interested in the committee, that doesn’t mean I’m entirely indifferent about it.”

Alisa, seated beside Masachika, flinched slightly and stiffened. Yet Touya continued talking, seemingly oblivious.

“My goal was definitely not this position in the student council itself. I simply wanted Chisaki to pay attention to me—no, that’s not it.”

Touya suddenly shifted his gaze to the ceiling, narrowing his eyes as if facing his own inner self.

“The old me…was searching for a reason to change. I felt inferior to my peers, and I couldn’t find one good thing about myself. I hated that about me, so I always wanted to change, and that change was my love for Chisaki.”

His honest and simultaneous confessions made their eyes widen.

“Looking back, I honestly never believed that she would ever return my feelings… But I needed a reason to change, so I took the chance, despite believing that it was hopeless. Even though I hardly knew Chisaki at the time, I went to confess my feelings for her so that I couldn’t run away anymore. I blocked off my only path of escape.”

“What? That’s what happened?”

“Yeah, and then I immediately went to join the student council. Of course, I had to, since that was the condition Chisaki had given me… Ha-ha. But thanks to that, my arms and legs were trembling on my way home that day. I can still remember the feeling.”

Touya continued, smiling as if fondly remembering the past:

“But thanks to all that, there was no way I could turn around and run away. From then on, I only continued to run forward, never looking back. Because I felt like looking back would tempt me to give up, and allowing my gaze to wander would only get me laughed at and mocked by my peers.”

That was likely the reality, too. Touya always stood alone and took that step forward alone. Sure, there were probably people who were there for him, like the student council president and vice president at the time…but it wasn’t hard to imagine that he was subjected to looks of curiosity and mockery far more often than anything else.

“And while I continued to run, I gradually changed, and all my hard work ended up getting me elected. While I was happy about becoming the president, I was thrilled about finally being able to like the person I had become from the bottom of my heart. Of course, I don’t feel great about stealing this position from the other candidates for my own selfish reasons…but what I gained far outweighs all of the negatives.”

He smiled at Masachika and Alisa, his expression genuinely radiant.

“At the very least, if I had let guilt prevent me from running, then I would have forever missed my chance to change, and I’d still be stuck as the same person who used to hate himself. That’s why I don’t regret running, and I’m proud of the person I became,” he confidently declared before locking eyes with Masachika once more.

“Kuze, I don’t know what’s bothering you, but from what I can see…you care a little too much about others. Of course, that’s a beautiful trait to have, but it only hurts you in the end. You’ll regret never taking that next step forward, and these people you were worried about aren’t going to help you.”

Masachika’s eyes noticeably widened at Touya’s stern yet gentle comment.

“So why not take that next step forward? Run straight forward for yourself, and forget about everyone else. Instead of worrying so much about future regrets, try chasing future dreams. Who knows? You might end up regretting nothing at all.”

Touya suddenly grinned mischievously.

“But, well, while nobody is going to help you if you remain stagnant…I suppose I could help you a little just this once, now that I’ve given you that first push you need. If you ever regret chasing your dream, then you can come complaining to me, and I’ll listen.”

“Just listen? That’s it?”

“Pretty comforting knowing you’ve got someone to talk to, right?”

“Wow, I can sure count on you,” Masachika replied, his voice devoid of emotion, a deflated smirk matching his tone. But after sharing a sincere smile with the president, he adopted a more serious expression and bowed deeply to him.

“Thank you… That really helped. It was very motivating, too.”

“I really appreciated you opening up to us.”

“Oh, really? I’m glad.”

Touya beamed as his two younger clubmates bowed respectfully, when suddenly a knock echoed through the room and the supervisor for second-year students opened the door and poked his head inside.

“Touya, you have a moment?”

“Oh, uh… Of course. What is it?”

Touya retired from the room as the teacher waved him over, leaving an abrupt silence in the student council room.

“I guess even without some grand cause…it’s okay to simply run for student council president for my own sake,” murmured Alisa.

“…Yeah.”

Masachika nodded in agreement, their eyes naturally drawn to each other as they shared a quiet smile.

“…It looks like you’ve found your answer.”

“You too, Alya.”

“Yeah,” Alisa said with a faint smile. Then she faced forward again, her expression dignified. “I’m going to become the student council president for me and me alone.”

She spoke slowly, as if she were checking if she really felt that way.

“I don’t want to be a part of the First Light Committee. I don’t even have any special reason why I need to become the president. There’s nothing specific I want to do as the president, either.” And even while acknowledging that, she declared, “But that doesn’t matter. I’m going to become the president because that’s how I want to live my life, and I don’t plan on letting you or Yuki take that position away from me.”

There wasn’t the slightest trace of doubt in her eyes as Masachika studied her profile, squinting his eyes a bit as if staring into a spotlight.

“I…want to return as the successor of the Suou family because I want to change,” he replied, facing forward once more. He could feel Alisa’s gaze tickling his cheek, but he continued to look forward as if he were facing his inner self while he genuinely added:

“While I do want Yuki to be free again, I’m doing this for myself. I want to regain the pride I once had and become someone I can like…” After a brief pause, he declared, “So I’m going to take over as the Suou family’s successor and seize the position from Yuki.”

Silence enveloped the student council room, their declarations dissolving into the air until the lingering afterglow had completely faded.

“We’ve made up our minds, it sounds like.”

“…Yeah.” Masachika nodded, tilting his head. “But…”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing really…” He paused momentarily, then sighed in resignation, realizing there was no use in hiding it. “I was just wondering how I’m going to convince my grandfather. It’s great that I made up my mind and all, but he already said that he wasn’t going to take me back if I ran for vice president…”

As Masachika was scratching his head in a demoralized manner, Alisa calmly replied:

“If you can’t convince him with logic…then maybe it’s time to just be honest with him.”

“What?”

“If logic won’t work…then you’re just going to have to speak from the heart and appeal to him with your emotions. If you honestly tell him exactly how you feel, like Touya just did…then maybe he’ll understand?”

“Uh…? Hmm…” Masachika grunted skeptically and was pivoting his entire body toward her—when he suddenly recalled the conversation he had with his father a few days ago.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, though. It’s not that he doesn’t love his family. Far from it. He cares about his family in his own way…”

…Really? If there is even the tiniest bit of hope…then maybe I should take a chance.

The claim was that even the cold-blooded head of the Suou family cared about his kin, meaning that there was a chance he could be swayed if his family opened up to him.

But, well, I can’t think of any other way to go about this, so I don’t have much of a choice.

It was highly unlikely that Masachika possessed the skills necessary to persuade this wise old man, which meant he would have to take a gamble a try to appeal to his heart. It would at least be worth a try.

“…All right, I think it’s about time I have a heart-to-heart talk with him,” Masachika announced, his determination straightening his slouched posture. But a faint shadow almost immediately clouded his expression.

A heart-to-heart…

He reflected on his own words and lowered his gaze. A heart-to-heart… In other words, he needed to have an honest conversation. But he would first have to understand how he truly felt, meaning he needed to delve deeper inside himself. That was the first step.

Tell him how I truly feel…

He was almost immediately caught off guard by Alisa’s unexpected announcement.

“I’m going with you,” she exclaimed, as though it were only natural.

“Wee?!” he shrieked bizarrely, spinning to the side to face her.

“You said it yourself. We’re in this election together.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Besides…”

Alisa somewhat averted her gaze, bashfully fidgeting with her hair.

“I told you that I’d be there for you…”

Masachika blinked a few times, then let out a small, sheepish laugh.

“If you keep acting embarrassed like that, you’re going to start making me feel embarrassed,” he teased.

“O-oh, shut up. You’re the one who said it first.”

“Yeah, and that’s also why it’s so embarrassing.”

It was one of those moments that he would remember years later in the shower and cringe at, and that thought alone sent a faint chill down his spine. He faced forward once again, wrestling with his thoughts.

But is that old man really going to change his mind just because we decide to be honest with him?

He chose this path simply because he couldn’t think of any better option, but the idea that it could actually change Gensei’s mind felt, in truth, like nothing more than wishful thinking on Alisa’s part, since she had no idea how stubborn that man could be.

“Hmm…”

The plan was still missing something. Simply laying his heart bare before his grandfather wouldn’t be enough. But right as dread began coiling in Masachika’s gut, there was a knock at the door, followed by Chisaki stepping inside.

“Hey! Huh…? Where’s Touya?”

After energetically greeting them, Chisaki surveyed the room, blinking curiously.

“Oh, hey. A teacher actually just stopped by and took him somewhere.”

She tilted her head slightly as she slid into the seat Touya had vacated just moments earlier.

“By the way, did something happen? I heard some pretty distressed voices.”

“…You heard that? Even though the door was closed?”

“Huh? Yeah?” Chisaki nodded as though it wasn’t strange in the slightest.

“…Wow.”

And so, Masachika decided to stop thinking about it and just accept it. After all, the soundproofing in the student council room was fairly solid, and he knew he hadn’t been loud, either. In other words, Chisaki was simply special, and stressing about it wouldn’t lead to anything productive.

“We were just discussing how I could convince a stubborn old man to listen to me, but he can’t be reasoned with…so I’m kind of in a pickle here,” revealed Masachika with a resigned note in his voice. Chisaki, however, raised an eyebrow and effortlessly replied:

“If reasoning with him isn’t going to work, then you’re just going to have to use force.”

“Yeah, why use big words when smash? Derp,” jested Masachika, when suddenly, a flash of inspiration raced through his mind, his eyes flaring wide as his hand drifted instinctively to cover his mouth.

“Kuze?”

“…On second thought, you might actually have a point.”

“Wait. Really?”

“Masachika?!”

Masachika sank deep into thought, seemingly oblivious to Chisaki’s startled expression and the wide-eyed astonishment on Alisa’s face. Before long, he had managed to formulate a plan with a certain sense of assurance. Wasting no time, he promptly contacted Ayano to arrange a meeting with Gensei, and two hours later, he got his reply. They were to meet the next day right after school, leaving him with almost no time to prepare.

The next day, Masachika, Alisa, and Ayano were driven to the Suou residence in one of the Suou family’s cars after school.

“Hey, Ayano?” Masachika’s voice came from the back seat.

“Yes?” answered Ayano from the front passenger seat.

“A long time ago, you asked me why I had decided to run with Alya. You remember that?”

“…Yes.”

“Did you tell my grandfather what we talked about?”

“…Yes, I did.”

“All right, good.”

Although he could sense Ayano staring at him curiously through the rearview mirror, Masachika remained focused on reviewing his strategy. Not long after that, they arrived at the Suou residence, stepped out of the car, and were immediately greeted by Natsu, who escorted them to the study where Masachika and Alisa came face-to-face with Gensei once again.

“I apologize for—”

Gensei raised a hand to silence Masachika.

“No need for pleasantries. State your purpose,” he demanded with a piercing gaze. Masachika drew in a slow breath and approached Gensei’s desk, dropping all formality as he faced his grandfather as his true self.

“I have come to retract what I said and apologize.”

“Retract what you said?”

Looking firmly into Gensei’s slightly bewildered eyes, Masachika declared:

“A while back, when Ayano asked me why I didn’t run with Yuki, I told her that Yuki and the Suou family had nothing to do with my decision.”

After saying everything in a single breath, he met Gensei’s eyes to find them unchanged, suggesting that Ayano really had already passed along this information.

“But that was a lie. Half the reason why I decided to run with someone else was so Yuki couldn’t become the student council president.”

That was something Masachika had asked himself many times since deciding to run with Alisa. Why her? More importantly, why hadn’t he run again with Yuki in high school? Was it the guilt from defeating the other candidates and winning in middle school? Partly. But that guilt was miniscule compared to how bad he felt for burdening Yuki with the weight of the Suou family’s expectations.

And yet, he had stubbornly refused to help her, much less run with her this election cycle. But after almost endlessly questioning himself, the answer he arrived at was disarmingly simple.

“I didn’t want her to get elected.”

That was the deepest driving force that even Masachika himself had failed to recognize.

“Because I knew that if she became the student council president, she’d naturally join the First Light Committee and go on to live out her life as a proper member of the Suou family.”

He didn’t want that future to become a reality. At the very least, he didn’t want to be the one to give her that final push. He couldn’t bring himself to return to the Suou family, yet he couldn’t stand by and watch his sister sacrifice herself for the family name, either, and thus chose neither as he simply observed.

His cooperation in Yuki’s middle school campaign had temporarily soothed his guilt toward her, and his refusal to help in high school had freed him from the burden of sealing her fate. Instead, all he did was simply observe like a selfish coward.

“I didn’t want to see her trapped in this house and lose her freedom, and I felt like I would much rather see a future where Alya—Alisa Kujou’s dream came true. That’s why I decided to run with her.”

“…”

After Gensei studied his grandson’s raw moment of vulnerably, he silently directed that same unreadable gaze toward Alisa.

“Was the future that girl painted for you truly so captivating that it moved your heart? You, but a shell of your former self?” he responded gruffly. Then he honed in on Alisa.

“Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou, was it? Why do you wish to become the student council president?”

Alisa stepped forward to stand beside Masachika and, with quiet boldness and a touch of embellishment, repeated the very words she had once told him.

“Because I want to. I want to be the president, so that is what I am going to do. If there is a higher mountain to climb, I am going to climb it, because that is how I live my life.”

She admitted without a trace of guilt or hesitation that she wanted to become president purely for her own sake.

“I want to go as high as I can, and I will keep moving forward with unwavering determination to become the version of myself that I truly aspire to be. Therefore, I am going to become president of the student council and stay true to that path.”

Alisa already knew that aiming for the top wasn’t everything—that countless paths existed in life, none inherently right or wrong. After all, the boy standing next to her had taught her that. Yet even then—even with that knowledge, she still chose to aim for the top. She couldn’t help herself. This was simply who Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou was at her core.

Witnessing her declare this so plainly and with such conviction, Masachika glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled. He nearly squinted before her radiance, but there was no self-deprecation in his expression—only admiration.

“Anyway, as you can see, this is who Alya is. After seeing how radiant she was, I just had to witness her dream come true by her side.”

His expression grew serious as he continued.

“I want to help her dream come true, and at the same time, I want Yuki to be free. I don’t want to see her future robbed from her by making her become a diplomat and take over for the Suou family. I want to give her the possibility to become anything she wants; and I am doing this for her but, more importantly, for myself. I want to steal the position right out of her hands and become your successor to regain the pride I once had.”

Even though he spoke with firm resolve, his grandfather’s eyes remained cold and unmoved.

“And? You want me to ease the one condition I gave you? That you should be allowed to return to the Suou family even as the vice president of the student council?”

Gensei was essentially saying, “Did you really think that would work?” Yet Masachika shook his head with unwavering conviction.

“No, I’m not here to negotiate about that. I told you already. I’m here to retract what I said and apologize.”

And then, he delivered a declaration of war disguised as an apology:

“I promised you that I would never call myself Yuki’s brother again, so I would like to take this moment to apologize because I am going to break that promise.”

Gensei’s brow twitched, and a crease began forming between his eyes as Masachika bowed. Then, while lifting his eyes to meet his grandfather’s unmistakably more menacing glare head-on, Masachika declared:

“During the second semester’s closing ceremony, I plan on publicly announcing to the entire student body that I am Yuki’s biological brother. I also plan on announcing that I intend to rob her of her position of the Suou family successor as well.”

The air surrounding Gensei grew increasingly more volatile. Piercing Masachika with his glare, he asked in a low, barely contained voice, like a volcano moments from eruption:

“Do you honestly believe I would allow you announce our family matters to the world in such a manner?”

Yet even under that fierce, suffocating gaze—so intense it triggered a primal response to danger—Masachika remained unshaken.

“I am not seeking your permission. I don’t care how Yuki feels about it, either. I am going to become the successor and do anything I can to do so, whether you and Yuki like it or not. I am going to prove to the students of Seirei Academy and the members of the First Light Committee that I deserve to be the successor, and I am going to create a situation where you will have no choice but to accept me back into the family.”

It was a brazen and arrogant declaration of his resolve. Gensei narrowed his gaze ever so slightly…then lowered his head and shut his eyes. After a long pause, he exhaled slowly, the oppressive weight of his presence melting away.

He thereupon directed his gaze to Alisa, his tone stripped of its venom, and asked in a voice that carried an almost tender quality:

“Ms. Kujou, I appreciate you coming all this way to speak with me, but do you think you could give us a moment to talk alone?”

“Oh, uh…”

Following Gensei’s unexpected courtesy and request, Alisa threw a bewildered glance at Masachika, but he simply nodded back despite his own confusion.

“It’s okay.”

“Yes… Of course.”

But just as Alisa bowed to Gensei and turned on her heel, Gensei suddenly called out to her as if something had just come to mind.

“Oh, right. One last thing, Ms. Kujou,” Gensei muttered, prompting Alisa to turn back around.

“…! Yes?”

“May I ask your mother’s name?”

“Huh? …Akemi. ‘Ake’ is written with the character for dawn and ‘mi’ is written with the character for ocean.”

“…All right.”

She tilted her head in bewilderment at the abrupt question.

“Do you…know my mother?”

“…In a way. It’s no big deal. I apologize for stopping you.”

“No, it’s not a problem.”

Perhaps sensing from Gensei’s demeanor that he had no intention of responding, Alisa bowed once more at the door before exiting the office, leaving only the grandfather and his grandson inside.

Silence stretched between them for a few moments until…

“So is that girl the reason you changed?” Gensei asked.

Masachika thought for a moment while feeling puzzled, unable to quite grasp the man’s intent.

“She’s probably the biggest reason…but not the only one. I think I was able to change because of all the people that I met after leaving this house,” he replied carefully.

“…I see.” Gensei nodded deeply before looking up at his grandson once more.

“Very well. I will allow you to return to the Suou family, even if you’re elected as vice president, but only if you run with that girl as your partner. In exchange, you are to refrain from revealing that you are Yuki’s brother and that there is a dispute over who will be the next successor to the family.”

The abrupt compromise and demand left Masachika bewildered yet reflexively resentful.

“But that’s—”

“Enough. You are planning to expose not only yourself, but Yuki as well, to the eyes of public scrutiny?”

“…!”

With his reflexive rebuttal crushed immediately, Masachika swallowed his words, unable to argue. Gensei, gazing at his grandson with a look that seemed to dismiss him as immature, let out a single sigh.

“Are you and that girl dating?” the old man asked abruptly.

“………What?!”

He was genuinely blindsided by his grandfather’s unexpectedly lowbrow question, and the earnest intensity of that unwavering stare only made him more confused.

“We’re not… I mean, it’s none of your business, even!”

“It is very much my business, you imbecile. We’re talking about someone who might one day become the wife of the head of the Suou family,” Gensei replied with complete seriousness, despite the absurdity of it all.

“O-oh, come on! What kind of logic is that?!”

Masachika’s shriek echoed through the study.

“No, it’s not a problem.”

After bowing and departing Gensei’s study, Alisa gently pulled the door shut, turned to face the empty hallway, and began to quietly exhale when—

“…Oh.”

“…”

…She locked eyes with Ayano, who was waiting in the hallway, forcing her to swallow the breath that was about to escape her lungs.

“…Have you finished your conversation?”

“Y-yes, for now… It seems like Masachika still has something to discuss with him, though.”

“I see.”

Ayano nodded slowly, her expression unreadable, then tilted her head ever so slightly.

“If it’s okay with you, I was thinking that perhaps you could stop by Lady Yuki’s room and check up on her.”

“Oh. Uh…”

Just as Alisa was about to reflexively nod, the thought of Gensei summoning her back into the study flickered through her mind, arresting the gesture and freezing her head in place.

“I’ll be waiting here, and I’ll let you know if the head of the household calls for you, so you have nothing to worry about,” assured Ayano, as though she could read Alisa’s mind.

“Oh…really? Then…sure. Thank you.”

“You can count on me.”

“Then…if it’s not a bother, I suppose I will go check up on Yuki.”

“It’s not a bother at all. If anything, she will be thrilled. This way, please.”

Alisa followed her down the hallway until they reached the door to Yuki’s room, on which Ayano knocked three times.

“Lady Yuki, are you awake? Alisa is here to see you.”

“Come in,” came Yuki’s muffled voice. Even through the door, it was relatively energetic, instantly dispelling Alisa’s concern that she might have been sleeping. “Hey, welcome.”

“Oh yeah… Thanks.”

Alisa slipped through the door, her gaze finding Yuki’s where she stood silhouetted against the window, bathing in the setting sun’s glow.

“You came to check up on me, Alya. Thank you,” Yuki muttered, a faint smile gracing her lips.

Alisa’s breath caught in her throat.

The childlike girl she had seen days before began to blend with the mature young lady that Yuki had usually presented herself as, both figures melding into the twilight until their silhouettes were one.

As Alisa stood frozen in silence, Yuki—ethereal and almost otherworldly—tilted her head slightly, maintaining her smile as she gestured toward the chair.

“Please have a seat.”

“Ah…”

Yuki’s voice snapped the half-dazed Alisa back to reality, prompting her to clear her throat softly.

“Thanks…but I’m fine standing.”

“Really?”

“…”

Alisa tried to regain her composure before she was swallowed by Yuki’s overwhelming presence, but the transcendent aura enveloping Yuki clouded her thoughts, leaving her with nothing but a few harmless pleasantries.

“Y-you seem to be a lot better already. I’m glad.”

“Giggle. Thank you. But that’s not what you wanted to talk about, right?” Yuki giggled as though she could see right through her friend, causing Alisa’s expression to tighten.

“…Masachika told me that you were his sister.”

“Yes, I heard,” revealed Yuki without the slightest trace of alarm before she quickly bowed her head.

“I am very sorry for deceiving you, Alya.”

“Wh-what? ‘Deceive’? Not at all…”

Alisa, however, taken aback by her forceful words, lightly cleared her throat and replied:

“O-of course, I was surprised, but you didn’t have a choice, right? Besides, it’s not like you were only keeping it from me… Regardless, it’s all in the past.”

Yuki lifted her head back up and smiled faintly.

“Giggle. You really are such a sweet, wonderful person.”

“Wh-what? Come on…”

Alisa immediately averted her gaze in embarrassment, fidgeting with her hair for a few moments, only to almost instantly snap back into reality, clearing her throat once more.

“Anyway, I’m here to listen.”

“‘Listen’?”

“Yes… Now that I know you’re Masachika’s sister, I want us to talk.”

Yuki narrowed her eyes at the setting sun as she gazed out the window. Then, still carrying that faintly ethereal air, she drifted away from the window, settled into the chair, and nodded.

“Yes… I… I was also in the mood to talk to someone.”

Alisa’s breath caught, realizing this had to be the real Yuki. Yuki, however, did not even glance at her rival as she began weaving her tale like a soliloquy.

Epilogue: And that’s how I became me.

It was a vague memory now, from a time when I was still very young. I was an incredibly mischievous troublemaker. I would scribble all over the house and run outside whenever it was time to study, only to bring back insects and mud pies to throw at my older brother whenever he was diligently studying. And without fail, I would cry with laughter and clap at the sight of his startled face. I was a hopeless brat whom my grandfather constantly scolded, but my parents and my brother were always kind to me.

“You can do whatever you want as long as you’re not bothering anyone. It’s okay to bother your family, though.”

My mother never stopped me from enjoying myself. Even when I was simply avoiding studies or running away during lessons, she indulged my selfishness—so long as I found something genuine to pour my heart into.

“Yeah, nothing wrong with that.”

My father would often say that. Even when I scribbled on the walls or played pranks, he would always praise me first and foremost.

“Is that a lion? That’s really good. It seems like you have a knack for drawing. But maybe you shouldn’t have drawn on the walls.”

When I told him I couldn’t draw big enough if it wasn’t a wall, my father laughed and even agreed, and a few days later, he bought a large whiteboard just for me. From that day on, I stopped scribbling on the walls of the house.

“Sigh… What would you do without me?”

My brother always wryly laughed at my pranks, giving me exactly the attention I craved, which filled me with joy and encouraged me to play all sorts of tricks on him. But even then, my brother was always kind to me…and that didn’t change even when I was bedridden after my asthma attack.

“Anyway, you seem to be doing well today, so let’s play cards.”

It would have been perfectly understandable if he was annoyed that his sister got all our parents’ attention by merely lying in bed all day. Yet my brother remained as kind as he had been before, and I loved him dearly for it.

“Oh, I need to start heading out. I’ll see you again soon, Yuki.”

“Yeah… See you soon.”

As it became more difficult to go outside, and spending most of the day in my room became the norm, I realized for the first time just how packed my brother’s schedule was. And I realized the freedom I had enjoyed all that time was only possible because he had been working hard enough for the both of us.

“You take so many different kinds of lessons… Isn’t it hard?”

“Hmm? Not at all. Anyway, it’s your turn.”

But no matter how hard things got, my brother never let it show when he was around me. He would always say his sick little sister had it worse than he, being healthy, ever could, and he was always smiling when we were together.

It wasn’t only my brother who was working hard, either. My grandfather was busy working as the head of the Suou family. My father was working hard as a diplomat. My mother was supporting my father and my brother. So, what about me?

Is there anything I can do for the family?

That thought became my sole obsession, and whenever my asthma was making it hard for me to breathe, I couldn’t help but wonder how much easier life would be for everyone if I just died.

My family, and maybe the Suou household staff, might grieve for a while. But…deep down, they also might have felt relieved that the burden was finally gone. No one else would have even noticed I had died. I was going to disappear within this room, having accomplished nothing, completely unknown to anyone outside, and that terrified me. It was unbearable.

I want to do something for the family, too…

That was the first true desire I ever had. I wanted to do something for this family. I wanted to venture beyond these walls and do something that would live on in people’s memories. But this fragile body of mine wouldn’t let me.

So…I decided to at least keep smiling—just like my brother always did when he was around me—so as not to cast further shadows over my family’s happiness. Even through pain and struggle, I decided to smile as if nothing were wrong. And strangely enough, over time, it started to feel real. I learned firsthand that even a lie or an act, if performed long enough, could become real.

But at some point, my brother’s smile started to seem forced…and with it, my mother’s joy dimmed as their interactions became increasingly awkward. And on the day my brother suddenly stopped playing the piano, I knew deep down that he and my mother would never be able to live together again.

“Your brother and I are going to start living in a different house from now on… What do you want to do, Yuki?”

When my father asked me that, I felt conflicted. I really wanted to throw a huge tantrum and cry, Why? I want everyone to be together!

But I couldn’t. Not when I thought about my mother and brother and how they no longer smiled like they used to. I just wanted them to smile again. So, I…

“I’ll stay here. Dad, make Big Brother Masachika smile again, okay?”

And when I said that, my father hugged me with a smile, tears welling in his eyes. Only this time, he didn’t say there was “nothing wrong with that” like he usually did.

“Mom! Read this book to me!”

After my father and brother left, I devoted myself to making my mother smile. I knew something had happened between my mother and brother, but I chose to pretend not to, playing the part of the innocent, needy daughter with an angelic smile untouched by the darkness. Little by little, she began to smile more, just like she used to, and my asthma gradually improved until I was healthy enough to move around freely as well.

Yes! I can do anything now! I can do all the things that I couldn’t do before!

I felt unstoppable. I wasn’t particularly fond of studying, I had strong preferences when it came to my after-school lessons and activities, and though I couldn’t match my brother’s natural talent, each small victory I had filled me with purpose. I was elated to contribute something meaningful to my family—thrilled to achieve results that would etch my name into memory…

I grew little by little, and when I finally felt worthy of taking over for my brother, I went to see him for the first time in what felt like forever. Just as my brother had worked hard for my sake in the past, now I was working hard for his sake, so I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to worry about the Suou family name anymore—that I was doing well and he could relax. However…

“Long time no see, Yuki… You look good. I’m glad. You’ve grown into quite an incredible young lady.”

When I greeted my brother, acting as graceful and ladylike as I could, he just awkwardly smiled and looked away; no matter what I tried after that, he never looked at me with the warmth he once had.

All this is doing is making him feel guilty.

One day, it suddenly hit me.

My brother believed I had changed because of him. He was torturing himself with the thought that I had been forced to change. The more I strove to be a worthy successor to the Suou family, the more it must have weighed on him, deepening his guilt and self-blame.

“I got you a present! Give me your hand!”

“Huh? Here.”

“Ta-da! It’s a roach! It’s just a toy, though!”

“Ha-ha…”

Even when I tried playing pranks on him like I did when I was little, my brother could only manage that strained smile, his laughter hollow and forced as he averted his gaze. He never laughed from the heart, the way he once had…

Why? Why did it have to be like this?

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. All I wanted was to see my brother smiling again, but if becoming a proper young lady only deepened the sorrow in his eyes, then maybe I should just…

…I should just be dumb.

I wanted—I needed to become an idiot and the helplessly mischievous child I was back then that used to make my brother laugh without even trying. I had to play the fool if my brother was going to laugh again—if he was ever going to give me the attention that I desired. I needed to become a sister so dumb that it was astonishing. I needed to be so cute that it almost seemed unreal.

“‘How to become’ a cute little sister…? Huh? All I see is anime…”

After that, I went online to look up “cute little sisters” and found all kinds in anime and manga, so I began trying to imitate them, gradually creating my new persona…

“Calling him ‘Big Brother’ would be weird at this age… I need to at least say it sarcastically or something… How should I talk around him, too? Decisions, decisions…”

And before long, I found myself captivated with the 2D world, and I thought it might serve as the perfect bridge to reconnect to my brother as well.

“All right, then. Next time I see ‘Big Brother’ Masachika—no—next time I see my dear big brother, I’m going to recommend him this manga. Mwa-ha-ha. I hope you’re ready for this, you little punk.”

It didn’t matter if it seemed fake or if he saw straight through the act, because I was determined to keep up the lie until it became the truth.

So please…

Just sigh and smile like you used to—like the big brother I love so much.

Afterword

Hey everyone, this is Sunsunsun—the guy who promised Volume 9 would go on sale simultaneously with the Feelings in Russian art book in July but completely missed the deadline.

Wow, I totally dropped the ball there. I definitely didn’t plan things right. I seriously underestimated the workload spike that comes with an anime adaptation. What? “Does getting an anime really increase the original author’s work that much? Isn’t it just supervising the script,” you ask?

…Ha-ha-ha. Great questions. Honestly, I thought the exact same thing until something I created got an anime adaption itself. So when I looked at other series and saw it was taking longer for novels and manga to come out after an anime adaptation was announced, I was skeptical and thought, Is the author really that busy? Don’t you just have to go to a few meetings?

So allow me to explain how things work for the sake of all the authors and manga artists out there who are currently facing the same skepticism from their readers! When a work is adapted into an anime, you might wonder what new tasks the original author takes on.

First and foremost, script meetings. Together with the anime director, producers, and other production staff, the author discusses the script written by the screenwriter, and conversations often end up sounding like a variation of the following: “This scene won’t fit into the runtime once animated, so let’s cut it.” And, “There are too many slow, static scenes here, so let’s change this part.” Or, “I’ll write a brand-new scene to replace it.” Even, “This filthy scene will never be able to air.”

These meetings happen multiple times for each episode, rarely wrapping up in just one or two sessions. Based on feedback from the meetings, the screenwriter then revises the script, which is then reviewed again in further meetings, and this cycle repeats until the episode is finalized. Since these are formal meetings, the author of the source material must thoroughly read the script beforehand and prepare their opinions to contribute effectively as well.

Alongside the script meetings, there’s also the casting process—that is, selecting the voice actors. The first step is the tape audition. Although called a “tape,” it’s actually an audio file. Voice actors perform several scenes excerpted from the original work, and their recordings are sent in. For the main characters in Feelings in Russian, about eighty auditions were received per role. Allow me to repeat that: eighty people per role.

We had to listen to all of them and narrow it down to a few candidates we liked. Of course, as the author, it was thrilling to see so many people eager to appear in the anime adaptation of Feelings in Russian. But honestly, I started to experience gestaltzerfall (misuse of the term, but it fits), and after a while it became hard to tell what was good or not.

Some of the audio files were over six minutes long, so listening to every single one thoroughly for a single character meant literally half a day of work. To manage this, the first round of screening was done just by judging the tone of the very first line, but even then, narrowing it down from eighty to about three to six finalists still took several hours.

Then, as the author, after selecting several voice actors that I liked, we held a meeting to decide who would advance to the studio audition, and then we listened to the performances at the studio audition and ultimately chose one person for each role. Honestly, this selection process with the audio tapes was more challenging than the meetings.

Since it isn’t possible to do this for every character, the anime production team handled narrowing down the final candidates for the sub characters to a few, and then we had meetings to choose who would play each role. During one of the meetings, I vividly remember someone saying, “Ah, no, this isn’t right. This Takeshi has hair,” which really stuck with me. Sure, his voice was a bit too cool for Takeshi, but rejecting him because of his hair was hilarious. Put simply, the meetings weren’t overly formal and had a pretty casual vibe.

Of course, it all depends on the production team and how involved the creator of the source material is in the casting process, though. Thankfully, for Feelings in Russian, the anime production side really valued my opinions, including casting. While I’m an amateur when it comes to anime production and left final decisions to the production team, I think they did a fantastic job casting voice actors who perfectly matched the characters!

Anyway, after wrapping up the casting and script meetings for all twelve episodes, the next step was recording. Each episode’s recording session took from two and a half to as long as five hours, and there were twelve of these sessions. Technically, the author of the source material doesn’t have to be present, but I attended all except one session that I absolutely couldn’t make. Of course, I did this remotely, though. That pretty much sums up what an author usually does in anime production which is probably what most people imagine as “supervising the script.”

But honestly, the supervision related to anime production isn’t that much of a burden. Sure, some preparation is required beforehand, but the meetings and recording sessions only happen a few times a month and last just a few hours each. You’re probably now thinking, “Sounds tough, but it’s only once a week or every other week, right? That’s not too bad.” And you’d be right.

Yes, these anime-related supervisory tasks are important, but they’re not the main source of workload for the author of the source material. The biggest burden actually comes from project-related work—things like merchandise, collaborations, and events. First, proposals arrive. Companies send plans like, “We want to create these kinds of goods,” or “We want to hold this kind of collaboration event.” These proposals come in various formats like PowerPoint or Excel, but since they’re official business documents, they’re always detailed and thorough. Then, the author of the source material has to review these proposals to check for any issues. Usually, KADOKAWA staff has already done a thorough check beforehand, so at this stage, there’s rarely anything to object to—mostly just a few questions directed to the staff. It feels a bit like those old-school bosses you see in cartoons quickly stamping piles of paperwork.

Anyway, in these projects, new anime illustrations are often commissioned. When that happens, the author receives detailed requests specifying how each character should be depicted in certain outfits. The author then reviews these to ensure none of the costumes clash with the characters’ established images. Next, rough sketches based on those requests arrive, followed by the final illustrations. Naturally, all of these are carefully checked by the author as well.

Once the illustrations are finalized, the proposed designs for merchandise using these images are sent over. Since these have already undergone strict review by KADOKAWA staff, major issues rarely arise. However, because they’ve been through that scrutiny, the author still must confirm that the feedback given during those checks was properly addressed.

If it’s a simple note like, “The colors here are too light, so we’ll have it fixed,” or “There was a typo in the name, so it’s being corrected,” the author only needs to acknowledge it. But if it’s a question like, “How about rearranging how the characters are placed? What do you think of this?” Then, the author must provide a proper response.

And then…when new illustrations are created, they sometimes come with lines of dialogue. These could be simple phrases for social media posts or short videos—new lines tailored to each character’s illustration. Naturally, the author, that is, me, is the one who has to come up with these lines. Well, that part is still manageable since it’s usually just one phrase. The real challenge comes when it’s for a game where the volume of dialogue increases dramatically. After all, I have to supervise every line the characters say in the game.

Of course, I’m not writing all the lines from scratch; the game developers provide draft scripts, which I then oversee. But honestly, and I don’t mean to be rude, but as the author, I often find myself thinking, Alya would never say that, or Yuki would say it more like this. Each time, I have to suggest new lines, and that process is quite taxing. And once all that supervision is finished and you think the project is nearly complete—surprise—you still have to review some website’s design and their promotional tweets. If there’s a promotional event involving voice actors, I also have to check the scripts for that as well.

With every little progress in these projects, I get bombarded with updates and new proposals that I have to work on. Especially with Feelings in Russian, the number of proposals was unusually high even before the anime aired. It made me want to scream with joy…or just scream in general, I guess. I should mention that my editor often tells me, “If it’s too much of a burden, we can adjust things on our end.” But since these opportunities are hard-earned, it feels wrong to just say, “The author’s too busy, so we have to decline. Sorry.” The projects themselves are really valuable, so turning them down isn’t an option. Sure, the checks could be left entirely to the KADOKAWA staff while I stay hands-off, but as the author, I have my own attachments and standards.

And don’t forget: I also have manga adaptation duties on top of all this. Therefore, almost every weekday, I get some message or request related to either the manga, anime, or these projects. Honestly, if I go a whole day without any contact, I start to feel uneasy.

…By the way, I don’t think I’ve ever outright said this before in any afterword, but…I’m a working author with multiple jobs, okay? I still work a regular daytime job on weekdays, you know? Whenever I say that, people are always surprised—like, “Wait, why haven’t you quit your job yet?” But if I start explaining, it gets long and sounds like I’m trying to be cool, so I’ll skip that here.

I go to work during the day, and after a hard day, I think, Phew, I worked well today. Then I come home and tackle manga adaptations and project work, and I think, Okay, I worked hard as Sunsunsun, too. Even if I haven’t written a single word of my novel manuscript, I still feel like I’ve been productive. And then, well…I end up doing other things: surfing the internet, playing games. You get it, right? That’s what being an adult who doesn’t know how to plan looks like. But honestly, when it comes to writing novels, it takes me a while to really get into the flow, so even an hour or so doesn’t let me get much done. Luckily, the project-related work was so demanding that I asked to have most of it consolidated on weekends which has made things a lot more manageable.

So yeah, caught up in the flood of new work that came with the anime adaptation, the July release got pushed to August, then August slipped into September… I really caused a lot of trouble for my editor and Momoco. I’m truly sorry. Speaking of inconveniencing them, I also messed up the short story for the art book.

At first, the editor asked me, “Would you prefer four thousand characters for a one-page spread or eight thousand for a two-page spread?” And I told him, “Eight thousand is too much for a short story, so four thousand is fine.” And then I handed in a manuscript that was thirteen thousand characters long! Am I stupid? Seriously, it didn’t just exceed one page, it went well beyond three pages…and forcing it into two pages made the text so tiny that it was nearly unreadable. If I’m allowed to defend myself a bit: when I said four thousand characters, I’d planned to write the short story about Alya in that white dress from the art book cover, and I thought four thousand characters would be enough for that.

By the way, the pinup illustrations of the heroines that I received afterward were so amazing… I couldn’t help but want to write about them instead. There were nine heroines, so obviously, I had to include them all. On top of that, there were four male characters, including Masachika, so that made a total of thirteen characters. If you figure about a thousand characters per character, then thirteen thousand characters actually seemed reasonable, right? Well, it wasn’t.

I’m truly grateful to the editor and Momoco who laughed it off and forgave me. By the way, among those four male characters featured, Takeshi and Hikaru were surprisingly not included. If you went “Huh?” just now, that means you haven’t bought the art book yet. I understand it’s pricey, so it’s tough to pull the trigger, but seriously, it’s incredible. Seeing Momoco’s illustrations in the art book’s large format are breathtaking. Every detail is flawlessly beautiful and utterly overwhelming. You can’t help but sigh in admiration.

Huh? So, you want to know who the four male characters that actually appeared in the short story were? Well, if you think about the named male characters, you can probably guess. First, there’s Masachika and Touya, right? And since Takeshi and Hikaru weren’t in it, then obviously Yuushou’s going to have to be one of the characters. And the last one? That’s right: Andou, everyone’s favorite Andou. He’s actually the very first named male character to appear in the main Feelings in Russian story, and in the anime’s first episode, he’s the guy who talks to Alya even before Masachika does. Yet after that, he never got another chance to make an appearance. He was a one-shot character, really, so we brought him back with a bang in the art book. So, if you’re curious, please buy the art book! That’s my unsolicited promo for the day.

Speaking of messing up word counts, I also had similar trouble with the bonus novel for the anime Blu-ray/DVD release. The original plan from the editor’s proposal was to write between fifty and one hundred pages for the bonus novel. Fifty pages is roughly a bit over twenty thousand characters, and one hundred pages is close to forty-five thousand characters. Considering that a typical light novel is around one-hundred thousand characters, that’s quite a lot even for a bonus story—about ten times the length of the usual short stories I write for preorder bonuses and the like.

Even I was like, “This is a bit much. Can we please cut it down to fifty pages?” Then the editor negotiated with the anime team, and they agreed. I was really grateful. That’s the power of a former sales pro, after all. So, I handed in a manuscript of ninety-six thousand characters and honestly wondered if I was stupid. All that buildup and complaining, only to end up doing this? And the page count? It ended up being over two hundred pages—basically a full light novel. Let me repeat that for you: it was basically the same length as your average light novel.

Just in case you guys didn’t bother to do the math, the combined word count for the short story in the art book and the bonus novel for the Blu-ray/DVD was almost one hundred and ten thousand characters. In other words, I’ve written the equivalent of two light novels. So yeah, you know how I just wrote about ten or so pages on how overwhelming work is for authors when their stories get an anime adaptation? Well, that was actually a story about how humans somehow manage to overcome difficulties when they’re cornered. Then again, I guess I didn’t do such a good job, since the deadline got pushed back by two months.

So what’s the takeaway? Simply put: my editor’s a saint. Even when I drastically overshot the planned word count, my editor smiled and forgave me. When the release date was delayed, they adjusted the schedule without a single complaint. Seriously, my editor is a true saint… That said, I really need to be careful not to take this kindness for granted. There’s no future for a writer whose editor has given up on them, after all.

Therefore, to express how thankful I am for them and how sorry I am for being me, I brought some sweets to the signing event celebrating the artbook release and gave them to my editor. I gave some to Momoco as well to congratulate her. And what did I get back? A hand-signed autograph board with an illustration! Huh? Strange… This is starting to feel like I’m the straw millionaire, totally ignoring the principle of equal exchange… Wait! Hold up! If I hadn’t brought those sweets, I would’ve ended up as a shameless author scoring a free autograph! Everyone, when you meet people you usually interact with online in person, make sure to bring a proper gift!

…No, seriously (straight face).

The first time I attended an offline meet-up, I showed up empty-handed and felt absolutely terrible about it. It’s a big deal. Everyone else brought gifts, and I was just there taking them. Talk about guilt. Of course, nobody expected anything in return or complained that I came empty-handed. But even if the other person doesn’t mind, you still can’t help but feel awkward about it. So listen up! If you’re new to meeting up with people you talk to online, always bring a small gift with you when you meet face-to-face for the first time! Make it something compact, not a hassle to carry around, and that won’t get ruined if you’re holding it for hours. Bonus points if it’s a local specialty they can’t get where they live. This advice comes from a veteran who’s already messed up once!

Oh, and for aspiring novelists out there: when you create your autograph, make sure it’s mostly curved lines! Never rely too much on straight lines because even the tiniest distortion is obvious and hard to cover up. This warning comes from a veteran who can’t undo past mistakes! Anyway…what was I talking about again? Oh, right. The editor is a saint and Momoco is a god. I’m truly grateful to both, and I hope to keep working with them. Seriously, thank you so much. Please don’t abandon me. Really.

…I started writing whatever came to mind, and before I knew it, I only have three pages left. I still hadn’t even gotten to the stories about the Thailand event and the anime’s after-recording party yet. Tsk. My lack of planning strikes again. I guess I have no choice but to speed things up. First, in April, there was that event in Thailand…that I think was book-related? It was a huge event, and I got to hold an autograph session there. Just like in Singapore before, I ended up sharing the stage with Sumire Uesaka again.

This time we traveled separately, so we only saw each other on the day of the event itself, but she was beautiful and friendly as always. The fans in Thailand were super passionate, too. Since it was all in Thai, I needed a translator, but everyone tried so hard to talk to me during the autograph signings. After the session, I went to check out the KADOKAWA booth, and guess what? Sumire Uesaka bought a 3D Alya breast-shaped mouse pad—out of her own pocket.

I was surprised to say the least. I was like, “Are you seriously going to buy that?! I’m totally writing about that in the afterword after I finish Volume 9!” And she replied, “Sure, go ahead,” so here I am writing about it. When I say I’ll do something, I do it. That’s the kind of man I am. For those who don’t know what a breast-shaped mouse pad is, I don’t have time to explain it right now, but it’s something that only proper gentlemen and gentlewomen use. Please look it up yourself online later when you have time.

After that, we went to a Thai restaurant for the after party where I tried pu pad pong curry, and it was incredibly delicious. When I mentioned I was going to Thailand, a friend from college recommended pu pad pong curry, so I just had to order it. It was unlike anything I’d ever tasted before. If you ask me to explain what kind of dish it is…well, I really wouldn’t even know how. I guess you could say that it was a curry made with crab meat and eggs? I’m not quite sure. It wasn’t particularly spicy, nor did it really taste like typical curry… but one thing’s for sure: I’m neither especially fond of nor averse to crab, yet that dish was incredibly delicious. If you ever visit Thailand, please be sure to try it. Okay, that’s the end of the Thailand story!

Next, let’s talk about the after party following the anime’s recording sessions. After finishing the dubbing for all twelve episodes, we had a celebration with the anime production team and the cast. Aside from Sumire Uesaka, I’d hardly spoken with the other cast members before (maybe I talked a little with Amano during the first recording), but everyone was very friendly and kind. What warmed my heart most was hearing how everyone unanimously agreed that the recording sessions for Feelings in Russian were fun and how close everyone became. Including the production staff, I truly feel Feelings in Russian was blessed with wonderful people, and I’m deeply grateful for that.

With that, I’d like to move on to expressing my thanks to everyone involved. As always, I am truly grateful for Editor Miyagawa, who has always supported me despite how much trouble I cause. Thank you so much. Next, I would like to thank Momoco, who once again created such wonderful illustrations for the artbook. I requested quite a few unusual expressions this time: serious looks, flustered faces, and yet, her quality was as outstanding as always. I was genuinely moved.

Next, a big thank-you to Tenamachi, who continues to deliver one captivating manga adaptation. Now that Ayano has appeared, the student council cast is finally complete, and I’m excited to see what kind of interactions will unfold! Lastly, my deepest thanks go to Suzuki, the editor in charge of the manga adaptation; Iwata, the editor for the artbook; Katou, the supervisor handling merchandise projects; Arai, the anime producer; the entire publicity team, the staff at Doga Kobo, the cast, everyone involved in the making of Feelings in Russian, and of course, every single reader who has supported the series. I send you my gratitude, which is so immense even a grim reaper couldn’t harvest it all. Thank you so much! I’ll see you again in the afterword of the next volume!

Reminiscence. Heart of Stone

My first social gathering, at six years old, opened my eyes to how others perceived our family.

“Oh? Is that Suou…? I had no idea he was already back in Japan.”

“Is the child behind him his son? This is the first time I have ever seen him…”

“Yes, this is apparently his first social gathering. I believe his name was…Gensei. Still, for both of his parents to show absolutely no concern for their small child like that—well, I suppose that’s the Suou family for you. It’s impressive, in a way…”

“Even the boy doesn’t seem to care… He seems…relaxed, I guess you could say? He doesn’t really act like a child, though. That family truly is…”

An extremely capable, yet cold-blooded family—that was how the elites of high society viewed the Suou name. And my father, the head of the Suou family, was the very embodiment of that reputation.

“Our Suou family has protected and supported this nation for over eight-hundred years. Being born as my son into the main family of such a lineage means that you were a public servant from the moment you drew your first breath. Never forget that you exist for the public good, and never let yourself be led astray for personal gain.”

My father was flawless in every regard, bearing the dignity and burden of our prestigious lineage without the slightest imperfection; naturally, he expected nothing less from my brother and me.

“Gensei, you forgot Mr. Inoue’s name a moment ago, didn’t you? In social gatherings such as this, remembering the faces, names, family businesses, and recent affairs of the attendees is the bare minimum. Therefore, forgetting someone’s name is absolutely unacceptable. Make sure this never happens again.”

While my mother was equally capable in social settings, she was cold toward her own family at home. From the moment I was born, I had never once felt any parental affection from either of them. And yet, I never found myself resenting them or even questioning it. Though they weren’t kind, my parents were respectable figures, worthy of admiration, and never spoke anything but the truth. I looked up to them and took pride in living up to their expectations. But my brother, two years younger than me, didn’t seem to feel the same.

“Are you not frustrated?”

“Why would I be?”

“Because Mom and Dad always lecture us… My classmates’ parents all play and go shopping with them, but our parents always just…”

“But they’re ordinary families, right? We’re Suous, so you can’t even compare us. And while we’re at it, do something about that pathetic, timid way you speak.”

My brother was certainly capable and never brought shame to the Suou name, but he was also inexplicably spineless. Timid and overly cautious, he constantly observed our parents’ expressions to gauge their mood…and he observed mine as well. His behavior irritated me. It disgusted me, especially since I was painfully average, despite being the eldest son of the Suou family. If he hated being scolded and lectured so much, then why didn’t he try to work harder?

Unlike myself, cursed with mediocrity, he had everything he needed to meet our parents’ expectations and could have easily done so if he’d possessed even a shred of determination. So how dare he grumble about our parents while ignoring his own lack of effort? Surely, he was the one who’d inherited the brilliance of the Suou line, and I got their cold-bloodedness. Our parents were flawless examples of what it meant to be Suou, but fate had damned them with disappointing successors.

“The one who builds his network at Seirei Academy and succeeds in joining the First Light Committee shall become my successor.”

It was only natural, then, that my father imposed that condition in order to determine the next head of the Suou family. He had probably already seen the shortcomings in both my brother and me, and was likely considering a member from outside the main family as his successor if necessary.

“I wonder if Dad hates us?”

From then on, my brother began to voice his anxieties and frustrations more often. Maybe, in his own way, he was depending on me as his older brother, but even then, I couldn’t bring myself to sympathize with him. All I felt was disgust toward a brother who came to me with complaints I could only see as petty.

“It’s not about liking or disliking anyone. As the head of the Suou family, it’s only natural to choose the most suitable individual to become the successor. More importantly, how about you start working harder to meet our parents’ expectations if you’re worried about being hated so much?”

I kept pushing him away until eventually, he stopped speaking to me altogether. Day by day, his defiance toward our parents intensified, and before long, he began constantly running away from home.

I, however, dismissed it as nothing more than teenage rebellion and didn’t give it much thought—instead immersing myself entirely in my studies. Unlike my brother, I was painfully average, so simply keeping up with the classes at Seirei Academy was a challenge, never mind preparing to become a diplomat.

Though I was outmatched by my brother in nearly every way, there was one ability I possessed that stood above the rest: an uncanny instinct for recognizing talent. I could gauge a person’s intellect just by looking at their face and reading their expressions, assess their physical capabilities through the way they moved, and determine if they were trustworthy after a single conversation. When I spent enough time around someone, I could even pinpoint their specific strengths and the environment where they were most likely to thrive.

Thanks to this unique gift, winning over my peers at the academy came naturally. I created opportunities for the capable to shine, regardless of their background or gender, and dismantled the influence of the incompetent who had coasted on status alone. Perhaps because I myself had no exceptional talent despite being born into a prestigious family, I never discriminated based on status, either, which seemed to have worked in my favor.

“I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for you!”

“You were the only one who saw value in me when no one else even spared me a glance. Wherever you go, I will be right there behind you.”

“You saved me. If you ever need anything, you let me know, and I will drop whatever I’m doing to help you.”

Before long, capable individuals who admired me began to rally around me, and with their support, I was able to secure a position in the First Light Committee immediately after graduating from high school, despite my own mediocrity.

“Well done, Gensei. You have lived up to your status as the Suou family’s firstborn son. I hereby recognize you as my official successor.”

“I am so proud of you. You have grown into a fine young man. Please continue to live up to the expectations that your father and I have placed upon you.”

That might have been the first time my parents praised me without reservation. Their recognition made me genuinely happy and proud. As groundwork for becoming the head of the Suou family, I pursued diplomatic studies after entering university, all while expanding my personal network. I built connections with promising individuals, sometimes investing in them, and steadily increased my influence within the First Light Committee. Meanwhile, I also searched for a suitable partner to become a diplomat’s wife and was formally introduced to several women by my parents.

With the exception of what was going on with my brother, who had essentially abandoned our home, everything seemed to be going smoothly…when news broke of an infectious disease outbreak in the country where my father was stationed.

One night, I received an international call from my father, who told me my mother had contracted the infectious disease, that she was unconscious and in critical condition, and that he had contracted the disease as well. I was confused by the news and began to panic…when my father scolded me over the phone.

“Pull yourself together, Gensei! Nothing good will come from you losing your nerve!”

His words hit me like lightning as I gasped, snapping back to my senses. My father gave me as many orders as he could before ending the call, explaining he still had matters he needed to convey to his subordinates and colleagues as well. Even with his wife teetering between life and death and his own health at risk, my father stood firm as a public servant, unyielding to the very end.

“It is your duty to take over for the Suou family when I die, Gensei.”

Those were the last words my father ever spoke to me. Just hours later, his condition took a sudden turn for the worse, and he passed away in that distant land, almost simultaneously with my mother.

When the news eventually reached us, my brother broke down crying…but I didn’t shed a single tear.

“Pull yourself together, Gensei! Nothing good will come from you losing your nerve! What you must do now is fulfill your duty as a Suou!”

My father’s words—the words of a man who embodied the Suou spirit until his last breath—etched themselves deep into my heart. If he were here, he would have scolded me if I had even thought of crying, and he would demand I carry out my duty as a Suou. So I didn’t shed a tear. Instead, I simply fulfilled my duties as the new head of the Suou family.

Even with the instructions my father gave me before his death, the days that followed were terrifyingly busy and chaotic. Due to the circumstances surrounding their deaths, bringing my parents’ bodies back to Japan proved incredibly difficult as well. Yet, against all odds, I managed to give them a proper funeral in the end.

It was then, for the first time in ages, that I finally got to speak with my brother.

“There’s still work I must do as the head of the family, but there are some areas which I simply cannot manage alone. I need your cooperation.”

However, my brother frowned and replied:

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no. Why would I help you?” my brother snapped. Though I was slightly surprised by his defiance and how his demeanor had completely changed over the past few years, I replied calmly.

“While you may not be the head of the family, you are still a Suou. Don’t you think you should help the family, now that our parents have passed away?”

“I’m a Suou? Help the family? To hell with that. That’s your logic, not mine!” my brother shouted, as if spewing out everything he had held inside these past few years.

“I’m sick of this! I’m sick of this family name—of all of you! Even on his deathbed, our father didn’t have any last words for me—his own son. Not that I was expecting any fatherly affection anymore, but damn, he really was a terrible parent. But he was still our father! They were still our parents! So of course, it hurts that they’re gone! Of course, I’m going to cry! And yet! You didn’t even shed a single tear at their funeral! And the first thing you say to me is that? You want to talk about the family? Do you even have a heart?!”

I didn’t even know how to respond to his outburst as he fiercely glared at me before turning on his heel.

“Maybe I would have helped if you had comforted me even a little when I was crying. But it’s too late now. I’m leaving. I don’t need any of the inheritance, so do whatever you want with it.”

And with that, my brother left the Suou residence. In the end, I couldn’t find the right words to stop him and could only watch his back grow smaller as he walked away. Once my brother was gone, I was truly alone, buried in the endless responsibilities of the Suou family, but no matter how busy I became, his parting words still lingered in my mind.

“Do you even have a heart?!”

Maybe he was right. Maybe I really didn’t have a heart. Looking back, I couldn’t recall a single moment where I genuinely showed my brother any kindness. I respected our parents, but if asked whether I loved them, I wouldn’t be able to answer with certainty. No… Deep down inside, I probably didn’t love them. If I had, I probably would have at least shed a tear at their funeral.

“Is it true that you turned down every single prospective marriage partner you were set up with?”

For the first time in ages, I met up with some friends from university at our usual café…when one of them suddenly asked me that question.

“…Yes.”

“What?! Why?! What a waste! That means you turned down the extremely intelligent and famous Ms. Ousaka, too, right?!”

“I even heard you turned down the young lady from the Kujou family as well! You really turned everyone down?!”

“Yes.”

“What?!” my friends cried in disbelief.

Each of the candidates came from prestigious families and possessed the education and ambition that would make them ideal wives for a diplomat. But no matter which of them I married, I could only imagine a future that mirrored my parents’ relationship. Of course, up until recently, I thought that was acceptable, but…

What would I do if we had a child who turned out like my brother? Would I simply watch in silence as he walked out the door, unable to give him the love and warmth that he desires from his parents?

And when I thought about it that way, I couldn’t bring myself to marry any of them. What my future wife needed wasn’t pedigree or perfection, but…

“Sorry to keep you guys waiting! Here are your three hot coffees and one espresso.”

One of my friends raised an eyebrow at the female waitress who brought over our drinks.

“Oh! Uh…? Are you new?”

“Yes, I started working here last week. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” She smiled brilliantly. She wasn’t particularly beautiful, and my first impression of her was that she seemed utterly ordinary.

“This isn’t what I ordered…”

“Huh? Ah! I-I’m so sorry.”

My second impression of her was that she went beyond simply being ordinary. She was dull-witted as well. Yet, for some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Initially, I assumed it was the novelty—the result of being surrounded only by exceptional people my entire life. However, she continued to intrigue me, and I began frequenting the café often, even by myself.

“Oh, Mr. Suou. Nice to see you again so soon.”

“…Yes.”

We grew more familiar, and during quiet hours at the café, we would make small talk, but my impression of her remained the same.

“Which is why they’re saying that it’s crucial to start building ties with those developing countries in that region.”

“Oh, really?”

“…Do you even understand what I’m saying?”

“Hmm… I understand that it’s all very difficult?”

She was slow-witted, lacking in knowledge and refinement. Yet she never stopped smiling and listening earnestly to my stories—dull as they must have been to her. She was always polite and kind to everyone and never spoke ill of others or complained.

“That’s love.”

“Kimishima… What are you talking about? That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Oh, come on. You find yourself going to that café to see her whenever you have free time, right? And before you realize it, you’re following her with your eyes. That’s love.”

Love. I never thought I was capable of such an emotion. And yet…I strangely felt as though I could build a warm, loving home with her. I was sure that, unlike my parents or myself, she would shower her family with kindness and affection.

“Hmm… Kimishima, teach me how to court a woman.”

“What…? What?! Uh… Oh! Well, uh… Hmm… Why not buy her a gift? Something women like. And…how about flowers? Traditionally, when men ask women out, they dress up in a snappy suit and hand them a bouquet of dark red roses… At least I think they do.”

“Hmm… I see.”

Following my friend’s advice, I bought every gift I could think of: jewelry, bags, hats, wallets—the sort of things my former arranged marriage candidates had adored. Truthfully, I couldn’t picture her enjoying any of them, but I had no idea what else to get, so I got everything I could carry. I also made sure to get a large bouquet of red roses. Nevertheless, it turned out to be more than I could manage alone, so I eventually had to ask my friend to help me carry everything.

“Come on, you bought way too much! This is, like, a year’s worth of gifts!”

After that, I led my grumbling friend—who had paper bags in both hands—to the usual café, then presented the bouquet of roses to the wide-eyed waitress and said:

“Marry me.”

“…What? Whaaat?!?!”

“Wh-what?!”

Both she and my friend were utterly stunned, and the café owner berated me, demanding that I take it outside because the smell of roses was making his eyes water. Yet somehow, my ridiculously unconventional proposal worked, and we became engaged.

She didn’t seem to know much about my family, and when I finally invited her over, astonishment struck her once more. Furthermore, when I began to explain who the Suou family was, she looked at if steam were about to come out of both ears.

“U-uh… Do I really belong here? I… I don’t know how to talk to important people, and I don’t know much about manners, either, much less anything about foreign people or their cultures…”

She looked visibly dazed, as if the weight of it all had finally hit her, so I assured her in a fluster:

“You don’t need to worry about that. All I ask from you is to build a warm, loving family.”

“What…? That’s all I need to do?”

“That’s all you need to do.”

“…Then I think I’ll be okay, because I love kids!”

Seeing her radiant smile convinced me that I had made the right choice. Whether as my fiancée, my wife, and eventually as a mother to my children, she never changed. She always wore that luminous smile, listened with genuine interest to my dull stories, and was a woman who was happier with a simple flower than a lavish gift.

“It looks like we’re out of vases!”

“Hmm…”

She rubbed her large belly and smiled in a troubled manner in the hospital room.

“…I apologize, but I don’t know any other way.”

I didn’t know how to make women happy, so I always got her a bouquet of flowers that I thought she would like.

“Making women happy is easy. All you have to do is look them in the eye and tell them you love them!” She laughed.

“That’s…”

I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Words like “I love you” or “I like you” felt too precious to be casually spoken by someone who lacked a heart. Simply uttering the words would forever taint them, and so I never did.

“Oh, you’re so silly… Ah, I know!” she said, as though she had just had an idea, while I lowered my head and frowned.

“How about from now on, whenever you want to express your love or gratitude to me, you go to the florist and get just a single flower—the most beautiful one you see that day?”

“…Only a single flower? Are you sure?”

“Of course. In addition…,” she continued, gently rubbing her large stomach and her young son sleeping by her side.

“…Please give our children heartfelt presents on their birthdays every year. And when the day comes where they speak of their dreams to you, I want you to give them your full support.”

“…! That’s…”

Perhaps it was only natural for a parent to completely support their children’s dreams, but it was never something that I could promise so easily as the head of the Suou family. What if both our children chose paths other than diplomacy? Who then would succeed me? Who then would carry on the Suou name? Burdened by those thoughts, I simply couldn’t give her a straightforward answer. Yet in the midst of my hesitation…

“And if necessary, I promise to work hard until I can bear you a child who wants to become a diplomat,” she casually exclaimed, as if the solution really was that simple.

“Hm?! V-very well. I—I can do that.”

“It’s a promise, then.”

“…Yes, it’s a promise.”

“Hooray! Then there’s nothing to worry about. I will raise these two with all the love in my heart.” She smiled, gently rubbing our son’s head and the unborn child still resting in her womb.

“So you just focus on what you need to do, because I love you for exactly who you are.”

Those words, that smile—they stayed with me, etched into my soul, even then.

“Dad! Mom is…!”

Once again, I was told of a tragedy involving my family over the phone. If I had immediately left for Japan, then perhaps I might have made it in time. I might have been able to hold my wife’s hand in the hospital room and pull her back. However…

“So you just focus on what you need to do, because I love you for exactly who you are.”

“Pull yourself together, Gensei! Nothing good will come from you losing your nerve! What you must do now is fulfill your duty as a Suou!”

The words of my wife and father echoed in my mind. Furthermore, I had an important conference related to Japan’s national defense scheduled for the next day as well.

“…!”

I agonized over the decision for a few seconds—a long few seconds—and then…

“…Take care of your mother. I’ll be there as soon as the conference is over.”

I chose to be a Suou. By the time I finished all my duties and returned to Japan, my wife had already passed away.

“Mom…!!”

“Sniffle… Hic!”

It seemed I truly did not have a heart. Even as I stood before my wife’s still body in the hospital room, even as our son and daughter wept beside her, not a single tear ran down my cheeks. I simply did what I had to do as the head of the Suou family.

What I did feel was an inexpressible sense of loss, as though the fragile sprout of a heart that had just begun to grow inside me had been torn out at the root. That sense of emptiness became irrevocable when our son died in an accident not long after. From that moment on, I buried myself in the responsibilities of the Suou name, clinging to them as my only refuge from grief I could neither understand nor face.

“Dad! I’m going to become a diplomat! I’m going to become a diplomat and take over for the Suou family in my brother’s place!”

My daughter started making such claims after my son’s death, but I had made a promise with my wife.

“That’s not what I need from you.”

Furthermore, as far as I could see, my daughter lacked the aptitude to become a diplomat. Therefore, asking her to shoulder the same role as her late brother would have been cruel, especially when she had even less natural ability than I did.

“Don’t even think about trying to replace Naotaka. All I need from you is to find a husband worthy of the Suou family name. That’s it. You’re free to do whatever you want as long as you do that.”

Nevertheless, my daughter gave up her dream of becoming a pianist and set her sights on becoming a diplomat instead. If that was her choice, then so be it. I decided to let her pursue her new dream until she was satisfied, while I dedicated myself to my work abroad.

However, one year later, when I returned to celebrate my daughter’s birthday as I had promised my wife, I was aghast at what I saw. Her cheeks were hollow, and her eyes were lifeless. The daughter standing before me was nothing like the girl I remembered.

What had I been doing all this time? I had devoted myself entirely to my work as the head of the Suou family and as a diplomat. Even when I heard that she had been wandering around late at night, I left everything to the family doctor and never once checked on her myself, despite there being no one left to offer her the love and warmth of a family.

“…You seem to have lost a lot of weight.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“…All right.”

Yet, even then, I still didn’t know how to speak to my daughter. The only way I knew how to show kindness was the way my wife had taught me. I tried to be there for her, increasing the time I spent in Japan, but that was all I could manage. I felt that any words I could offer would only push her further into a corner, and so in the end, I didn’t say anything at all.

“Kimishima, I am considering hiring someone to take care of Yumi. Do you know of anyone like that?”

“Like a maid of some sort? Hmm…”

“How well they perform at work isn’t the priority. What I need is someone who can show her love and affection. Do you know of anyone who can do that?”

“In that case, if I may be so bold, how about my wife? She is already acquainted with your daughter, and with our son recently moving into a dormitory, as of late she seems to have a bit more time on her hands.”

“Really? Then could you ask her for me?”

“Of course.”

All I could do was depend on those more capable than myself, just as I had relied on my wife to raise our children. The days went by and I immersed myself in my work once more…until one day, my daughter brought a boy home.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Kyoutarou Kuze. Yumi and I have been dating for the past month.”

I could immediately tell that he was a boy brimming with talent and—more importantly—that he was someone who, like my wife and son, could offer my daughter the warmth and affection I never could.

“Yumi, I want to speak with him alone. Please give us a moment.”

Once we were alone in the study, the boy nervously squeaked:

“Yumi told me about the Suou family and explained the situation! And I am prepared to become a diplomat in order to earn your blessing to be with her!”

He seemed to be jumping to conclusions, so I told him:

“Don’t worry about that.”

“Uh…?!”

“…What I want from you…is to show Yumi kindness and affection.” I lowered my head. “I beg of you.”

“Wh-what?! Please raise your head!” the boy said, panicking. Then he smiled and declared, “I am still going to become a diplomat, because I want to become the man that Yumi deserves.”

The boy ended up becoming a diplomat as promised and grew into a strong, respectable young man. He became my son-in-law and gave me two grandchildren with my daughter. Their children, too, were gifted, showing signs of both talent and the same warmth and kindness that had defined my wife and son.

“…”

The Suou family, once known for its cold-blooded nature, was slowly changing, transformed by my wife and the children she raised. I alone remained unchanged. I’d had a heart of stone from the moment I chose to be a Suou over being a husband. Perhaps it was far too late to change even now, even if given a real heart.

If I hadn’t been a Suou, I would have been there when my wife died. If I hadn’t been a diplomat, my son wouldn’t have lost his life. And yet, knowing all this, I chose to remain both a Suou and a diplomat. How could I possibly become a loving father to my daughter or a devoted grandfather to my grandchildren now? If I were truly capable of that, then why couldn’t I have been a husband who comforted his wife or a father who mourned his son when it mattered most?

I will live my life until the end as a Suou…and die as one.

I had no other choice. Therefore, even when my grandchild tried to leave, just like my younger brother once did, I responded not as a parent or a grandfather, but as the head of the Suou family.

“That’s not the only reason though, right? Deep down inside, you allowed Masachika to leave…because you wanted him to forget about the Suou name. You wanted him to be truly free. Am I wrong?”

My kind son-in-law offered those gracious words, but he was overestimating me. I merely did what was right as the head of the Suou family. Nothing more. There was no kindness or affection in my actions. No matter what I did, I was a Suou… A foolish father and a terrible grandfather.

In a cemetery crowded with countless memorials, Gensei stood in a secluded corner. Before him was a gravestone—neither imposing nor ornate, but simple and unremarkable like countless others. However, this was not the Suou family’s ancestral grave where generations of Suou members slept. It was the humble resting place of his wife and son.

“Masachika—your grandson…and your nephew—came home for the first time in ages…and he brought a young lady with him as well from, of all families, the Kujou family.”

He spoke with the same detached expression and indifferent tone.

“I heard the youngest daughter of the main family practically ran away from home…and now, it seems that this young girl from that very family is classmates with our grandson. She must take after her grandmother. She’s fiercely determined and ambitiously driven.”

He suddenly relaxed his expression slightly, a faint smile on his lips.

“I don’t know if it’s because he was influenced by her, but Masachika confronted me head-on, declaring that this was war…and for some reason, it reminded me of Yumi back when she brought Kyoutarou home,” he noted with a hint of amusement. Gensei then let his smile fade as he gazed blankly into the distance and whispered, “You were right.”

His words were swept away with the breeze, and when the time was right, he turned on his heel.

“I’ll come back soon,” Gensei muttered over his shoulder. The gravestone behind him watched quietly as he left, and in its shadow, a lone pink orchid swayed gently in the breeze.