Despite her words, Eriri obediently climbed onto Hojou's back, just like the princess riding behind the knight on the screen of the ga they were playing.
A bright smile reappeared on her face.
He might be a terrible artist, an eccentric chatterbox, and an overall idiot, but as a steed, he was surprisingly reliable.
That thought lingered in her mind, and her smile stayed with her until Hojou finally left her house.
Standing by the large floor-to-ceiling window, she watched the taillights of his motorcycle—Rocket 33—fade into the distance until they disappeared completely.
Only then did Eriri shift away, using the nearby table and chairs for support, and slowly made her way to the sofa.
It was just a sprained ankle, not like she was completely incapable of moving.
Her mother, who had already cleared the dishes, was sitting on the sofa, sipping a steaming cup of tea while watching ani.
"Mom, can you get so cola and chips?"
"Lily, you just finished dinner. Are you trying to turn into a pig?"
"Ugh~"
Grabbing a cushion, Eriri pouted slightly, her eyes darting around as she debated internally.
"I need it! I got hurt today, so I have to drink cola to speed up my recovery!"
Sawamura Sayuri sighed, pulled over a small snack cart, and then went to the fridge to grab a bottle of cola.
"Don't co crying to if you get a stomachache."
"Mhm, mhm." While her mother fetched the snacks, Eriri seized the opportunity to grab the remote and switch to her favorite ani.
"So, let's talk."
To Eriri's surprise, Sayuri didn't try to wrestle for control of the TV or enthusiastically recomnd whatever ani she was watching.
Instead, she leaned against the sofa, resting her chin on one hand, and looked at her daughter with an eager, mischievous expression.
"T-Talk about what?"
Eriri's face instantly turned red.
Thankfully, the warm yellow glow of the living room lights helped conceal it.
Though she tried to sound defiant, anyone who knew her well could hear the nervousness in her voice.
"Obviously, about Hojou-kun."
Catching her daughter's reaction, Sayuri's grin widened teasingly.
"He's just so nosy guy I ran into by chance. There's nothing to talk about."
Eriri feigned impatience, but she knew full well her mother wouldn't let this go so easily.
"Eriri."
Hearing her mother call her full na instead of her nickna, Eriri imdiately tensed up.
"Today, when I went to Akihabara, I..."
Like a kitten caught by the scruff of its neck, Eriri spilled everything about what had happened in Akihabara without missing a beat—including the part where Kyousuke had examined her injured foot.
"What a nice guy." Sayuri issued the ultimate 'nice guy' verdict.
After so hesitation, Eriri also shared their conversation while gaming and Kyousuke's opinion about Tomoya.
"Mom, do you think he's right? About Taki Tomoya...?"
Her voice was filled with uncertainty.
The usually bright and clear blue of her eyes seed clouded with doubt.
"I see..." Sayuri's playful expression softened.
She scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her daughter.
"Lily, you know, your father and I have always been worried about you."
Sayuri spoke gently, her left hand brushing through Eriri's golden hair, which shimred under the living room lights.
"Worried about ? Why?" Eriri, who had been enjoying the comforting touch, lifted her head in confusion.
"Because of you and Tomoya."
"We already cut ties ages ago. What's there to worry about?"
"Lily."
"It's true! We haven't spoken a single word to each other since fourth grade."
Her voice grew softer, and her head lowered along with it.
"He was your first real friend... your first otaku friend. I know that's not sothing you can just let go of so easily."
"But... we really did stop being friends," Eriri whispered, her voice carrying a hint of tears before she collapsed into her mother's arms.
"I know, I know." Sayuri's voice was soothing.
"When we noticed sothing was wrong between you two, your father and I actually talked to Tomoya and even reached out to your teachers at school."
"Huh!?" Eriri's head shot up, her tears finally breaking free.
It seed like she had turned into a crybaby today.
"Did you really think we'd just stand by while our daughter was going through sothing like that?" Sayuri smiled warmly.
"But... didn't Dad enroll in a public elentary school because he hates special treatnt?"
"His precious daughter was hurting. Your dad is the biggest doting father there is."
"Ugh, whatever. Isn't he just as whipped for you?"
Despite her words, mories of the past flooded her mind—
Her father, silently following behind her at conventions, carrying bags filled with rch.
Her father, dressed up in cosplay because she had demanded it.
Her father, rallying the entire embassy staff to play princess gas with her.
"Then why... why didn't he do anything back then?"
"You forgot that those boys transferred out in the second sester of fourth grade?"
"What? I thought they left because they couldn't handle losing to Taki Tomoya! But then, in third grade, why did he—?"
"Because, Lily, you handled it so well. You managed to protect yourself while also expanding your social circle."
"Huh?!"
"Isn't that true? Before that, your only friend was Tomoya, and all you ever talked about was otaku stuff. Your father and I were really worried about you."
Hearing her mother ntion "worry" again, Eriri finally understood what they had been concerned about.
Of course.
Her parents were both otakus, but they also had friends outside that world.
Her mother hosted weekly tea parties and was part of flower arrangent and tea ceremony clubs—an elegant lady admired by everyone.
Her father, despite his otaku obsessions, was highly successful in his career and had connections throughout Tokyo's upper circles.
"We never wanted you to hide your otaku side. We just wanted you to have more friends. Otherwise, you'd end up exactly like you are now."
"Like I am now?"
"Ever since you cut ties with Tomoya, you've been closing yourself off. Sure, you've made plenty of friends, but you've never brought a single one ho, have you?"
"That's because... because..."
Eriri trailed off, unable to find the right words.
Was it because none of them were real friends? That the only real friend she had was Taki Tomoya?
"You see it now, don't you?" Sayuri's voice remained gentle.
Without waiting for an answer, she continued.
"We never interfered with who you chose to befriend, nor did we judge your friendships—unless you ca to us for advice."
She chuckled softly. "And now, our proud little princess has finally decided to have a heart-to-heart with her mother."
"Mom!" Eriri threw herself into her mother's arms, nuzzling against her like a spoiled child.
"Like I said, you did well back then. Robin—your father—was going on about how his daughter had grown up, then burst into tears."
"Haha, it wasn't that big of a deal... But what about Tomoya?"
Eriri lifted her head, her tears already dry.
No matter how tsundere she acted, in her mother's embrace, she was still just a little girl.
She basked in her mother's praise, smiling smugly before hesitantly asking, "What do you think about him?"
Sawamura Sayuri paused, hesitant to judge others so easily, but since it concerned her daughter, she made an exception.
"That Hojou boy was right—what Tomoya did was a form of bullying, no question about it. Dragging you, soone who had already moved on, back into that situation was selfish, plain and simple."
"But... we were friends," Eriri said softly, even though she had rejected him at the ti.
"That's exactly why he should have thought about your feelings more. And besides, you were just a third-grade girl back then."
"He might not have been afraid of being bullied, but how could he expect you to handle it? How could he do that to you?"
For the first ti, anger crept into Sayuri's usually gentle voice.
"But you and Dad wanted us to make up, didn't you?"
"Because we knew that unless you resolved things with Tomoya, you'd never truly move on. Fortunately, you t Hojou, and the things he said really hit ho."
"I see..."
The confusion clouding Eriri's mind began to clear. She finally knew what she needed to do.
Without hesitation, she sat up, ripped open a bag of chips, took a big gulp of cola, and declared excitedly, "So what about Hojou? That guy is seriously amazing!"
"Haha, yes, I must say, he's quite impressive. When your father was his age, all he did after getting into a fight was run ho crying for his mother to take revenge for him."
"Right?! And his drawings—Mom, you have to see them! You'll understand why I called him an alien!"
Eriri quickly pulled out her phone and showed her mother the two versions of Kyousuke's drawings.
"Incredible!" Sayuri covered her mouth in shock.
"And that's not all! He plays gas in the most ridiculous way—" Eriri rambled on excitedly.
Watching her daughter's enthusiasm, Sayuri couldn't help but smile warmly.
———————————————————————
By the ti Kyousuke left Eriri's house, it was already 6 PM.
Though he had already eaten, he rode toward the Garden of Words café as planned.
He had promised his cousin, Miyagi Toyoko, that they would discuss sauce recipes that evening.
The eting went smoothly—except for one surprise.
The scrawny, petite cousin he rembered had turned into a massive woman.
Girls really do change a lot as they grow up, huh?
On his way back to Bunkyō, Kyousuke absentmindedly reflected on it while enduring the sound waves of Okudera Miki's relentless chatter.
Later that night, he visited Okudera-senpai's place.
To celebrate the successful sale of the sauce recipe, she suggested cooking dinner and having a drink together.
Of course, she had beer while he stuck to cola—what could be better for celebrating than cola?
Yes, in the end, they had sold the recipe.
His cousin, ever the serious businesswoman, had outright refused the idea of rely licensing it.
"Sorry, Okudera-senpai. I couldn't negotiate a better deal for you in the end."
Sitting on the sofa, Kyousuke apologized while watching Okudera Miki work happily in the kitchen.
She paused mid-song, knife in hand, and stared at him in shock.
"What are you talking about? That's a million yen! If it weren't for you, we never would've gotten it!"
She wiped her hands, reached into her pocket, and pulled out the check, holding it up proudly.
"This—this is all thanks to you, Kyousuke!"
Her voice was filled with excitent, and her amber eyes sparkled with joy.
Normally a mature, dependable woman admired by her colleagues, she now looked like a little girl showing off a drawing to her parents.
"It feels like a dream... Now I finally have enough starting capital for the shop."
Clutching the check to her chest, Okudera Miki looked at him with gratitude and determination.
"A million yen isn't nearly enough to start a shop."
Even though she seed happy, Kyousuke still felt a little guilty.
He hadn't expected his cousin to instantly identify the sauce's secret ingredient.
If they weren't family, she probably would've just stolen the recipe outright.
"It's plenty! I've already looked into it—places in guro and Arakawa aren't too expensive. With 700,000 or 800,000 yen, I can rent a decent space. The rest, plus my savings from part-ti jobs, will cover renovations."
guro? Arakawa?
Kyousuke blinked in confusion. Were those even in Tokyo?
Crap. Had he started suffering from the 'only the central six wards count as Tokyo' mindset?
"Well, whatever happens, when you graduate, I'll make sure you get the best shop possible!"
Kyousuke lifted his cola, clinking it against Okudera Miki's glass.
Their low table was now filled with food—golden fried horse mackerel, colorful pickles, crispy tempura, and soft, chewy dumplings made from so unknown ingredient.
"Haha, then I'll be looking forward to it!"
Okudera Miki took a big gulp from her beer can and let out a satisfied sigh.
Normally, when sothing this exciting happened, she would have called her best friend, Hiratsuka Shizuka, over for a night of heavy drinking and celebration until dawn.
But tonight was different.
Sitting across from her, cross-legged yet still towering over her, was Kyousuke.
There was a glimr in Okudera Miki's amber eyes as she looked at him.
The investnt he had talked about for her store was no longer just empty words from a young man—it was becoming a reality.
This guy was as reliable as he looked.
"Let's consider half of this one million as your investnt in my store," Okudera said with a smile.
"No way! This money is sothing you earned entirely through your own efforts!" Kyousuke protested, hurriedly swallowing the crispy fried aji fish in his mouth.
"I'm not so naive girl. I know that without you, even if I had managed to sell the recipe, the price would have been at least ten tis lower."
With that, Okudera took another sip of beer.
Despite the cold drink, her fair cheeks were flushed, and under the warm glow of the lights, she looked even more radiant.
Listening to her grateful words and watching her intoxicatingly beautiful expression, Kyousuke quickly took a sip of his cola, trying to hide the fact that he was swallowing nervously.
But he didn't argue further.
Okudera wasn't like Shouko and the other innocent girls—she had already stepped halfway into the adult world.
She understood its darker sides.
With tacit understanding, they dropped the topic and simply enjoyed their al and conversation.
At so point, Kyousuke took out the two versions of the manga he had drawn today.
The first one made Okudera Miki burst into laughter.
When she ca back from changing into sothing more comfortable, her laughter made certain parts of her body shake in ways that gave Kyousuke quite the visual treat.
Then, when she saw the reworked version of the manga, a gasp of surprise escaped her lips.
...
Good tis never last long. Standing by the window, Okudera silently watched Kyousuke's figure fade into the distance as he rode away on his motorcycle.
A bright smile lingered on her face as she humd a tune and began tidying up.
———————————————————————
In another place, another ti—Hida City, Itomori Town, Miyamizu Shrine.
Night had deepened, and most of the town's lights had already gone out.
Miyamizu Mitsuha sat at her desk, working through her howork.
Nearby, her younger sister Yotsuba and their grandmother were watching television.
Unlike their grandmother, who was nodding off, Yotsuba was fully imrsed in the show, occasionally offering comntary.
"Grandma, let help you to bed. And Yotsuba, you should be getting to sleep soon too. Otherwise, you won't be able to wake up in the morning."
Frustrated by a math problem she had been struggling with for twenty minutes, Mitsuha put down her pen, rubbed her temples, and stood up to check on them.
"No need, Yotsuba can help . You should focus on your studies," their grandmother said with a gentle smile, shaking off her drowsiness.
"But the show's almost over!" Yotsuba pouted, even as she obediently helped their grandmother up.
"I'll record it for you so you can watch it tomorrow. Now, off to bed." Mitsuha's tone was firm.
"Fine... But, sis, you've been acting really weird today. You used to hate studying, and now you've been at it all day."
"Quiet. Studying is a good thing," their grandmother said, lightly tapping Yotsuba on the head.
"Ow! But isn't Mitsuha supposed to inherit the shrine anyway?" Yotsuba rubbed her head, pretending to be hurt out of habit.
"Hehe, well, there's always you, Yotsuba. How about you inherit the shrine instead?"
"Really?! Then can I—"
As Yotsuba's excited voice faded into the distance, Mitsuha shook her head, laughing to herself.
That little troublemaker—was she still thinking about selling kuchikamizake online?
After packing away her textbooks and setting the TV to record, Mitsuha returned to her room and sat at her desk.
Studying at the low table had left her sore all over, but she had stayed there just to keep her grandmother company.
Staring at the howork in front of her, she hesitated for a mont but eventually picked up her pen again.
Was it really so strange for her to be studying so seriously? Even she wasn't sure what had gotten into her.
For so reason, bits and pieces of her body-swapping mories were returning to her.
Scattered images filled her mind: the bustling streets of Tokyo, the top-ranking student Kyousuke, the difficult middle school problems she couldn't solve, the delicious grilled at, the never-ending subway rides, the dazzling lights...
Everything felt like a dream.
If possible, I want to try studying there too.
She recalled the college girls she had seen on the streets, laughing and chatting with textbooks tucked under their arms.
For a girl who had been bound to the Miyamizu Shrine all her life, it was a glimpse into another world—one where she didn't have to constantly maintain a perfect image, one where she didn't have to braid her hair neatly every day, where she wasn't always under watchful eyes, where she didn't have to be mindful of every single action...
Miyamizu Shrine. Itomori...
Under the soft glow of the white desk lamp, a girl bit her pen, deep in thought, pushing forward in her studies.
As she leaned in, her hand accidentally knocked against the lamp switch.
———————————————————————
Monday. Hida City, Itomori Town, Miyamizu Shrine.
Even without the morning sun against his eyelids, Kyousuke knew he had turned into a girl again.
Lifting his head with great effort, his stiff neck and sore body protested against the
movent.
Miyamizu Mitsuha, why the hell did you fall asleep at your desk?
Grumbling internally, he stretched his neck and limbs, easing the discomfort before finally walking over to the mirror.
His stiff neck cracked satisfyingly, and he took a look at the wrinkled school uniform he had slept in before opening the wardrobe.
Nice!
Spotting a brand-new pair of black leggings still in its packaging, Kyousuke couldn't help but cheer inside. But then, his mood quickly plumted.
When did I, the leader of Tokyo's most notorious delinquent gang, get excited over a pair of leggings?
With a heavy heart, he slowly undressed.
He hesitated for a mont but ultimately spared the pink underwear.
Bound by his own strong sense of morality, his mild OCD prevented him from feeling comfortable skipping a shower, yet he forced himself to endure it.
Slipping into the leggings and a fresh school uniform, he let out a long breath.
Finally, no more cold drafts down below.
The last ti this happened, he had barely resisted the urge to walk around with his legs pressed together.
Glancing at the thin paper windows, he tried to gauge the ti by the sunlight but failed.
Instead, he found Mitsuha's phone on the floor—it was almost out of battery.
Sighing, he plugged it in to charge and stepped out of the room.
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