Final Chapter: Towards the Night

Past 4:30 p.m. The usual two show up at the usual time.

“Yo, Yuu-nii.”

“Hello, Yuu-san.”

“Welcome.”

It’s been a week since Mahiru and the mystery beauty started studying for exams here.

They always come together. They must be really close.

They sit at their now-regular two-person table by the wall, diligently studying. Every now and then, they glance at me, giggling or whispering to each other. What’s that about?

Are they checking out my work or something?

“Alright, time for a break. Yuu-nii, refills!”

I bring over their refills after they take a break.

“Thanks!”

“Thank you.”

The mystery beauty holds her cup gracefully. Her elegant way of drinking coffee is truly beautiful. Her gestures and expressions have a captivating charm—she must be a refined young lady from a good family.

She’s a perfect contrast to the carefree Mahiru.

Mahiru, with her shirt unbuttoned low and sleeves rolled up, exposing her pale, soft skin. Doesn’t that girl have any sense of shame? She hasn’t changed a bit since she was a kid.

The mystery beauty, on the other hand, has her blazer buttoned up neatly, exuding a model-student vibe.

They’re completely different types, but both are eye-catching beauties. The moment they walk in, the shop feels brighter.

“By the way,” I start.

“You two are studying hard, huh. I wonder if Miya’s studying properly too.”

“Huh? W-Well… probably, right?”

Mahiru suddenly straightens up, giving an awkward reply…

“That girl always panics at the last minute.”

“Y-Yeah, that’s right.”

Mahiru seems to be glancing at the mystery beauty. The beauty keeps a plastered smile, looking back at Mahiru.

“That brat might be out playing instead of studying. She used to get scolded for not doing her homework. Haha.”

“Ngh, cough. Y-Yuu-nii, I want a refill.”

Mahiru downs her cola in one gulp, sweat beading on her forehead.

“You okay chugging carbonation like that?”

“I-I’m fine.”

“No way you’re fine.”

I take her glass and head back to the kitchen.

Mahiru’s reaction only deepens the suspicion growing inside me.

Is it really true?

Maybe Miya and Mahiru aren’t that close anymore.

Mahiru rarely talks about Miya, and when I bring her up, she gets all awkward.

She comes here alone or with that beauty, never with Miya…

Maybe they don’t hang out much anymore. It’s common for childhood friends to drift apart as they grow up.

I’ve been through it myself.

I haven’t seen my middle or high school friends in years, and I struggle to recall the faces or names of my elementary school buddies.

Relationships change with every new environment, with meetings and partings.

It’s not unusual.

Everyone goes through it.

But still…

For those girls who were like sisters, that shouldn’t happen…

—I don’t want it to be true.

“Yuu-nii, what’s wrong?”

Mahiru’s voice sounds concerned.

“Hm? Oh, nothing. Here’s your cola. Study hard, one more week, right?”

“Yeah!”

Mahiru flashes a big smile.

“Yes, we’ll do our best.”

The beauty across from her gives a cute smile that makes my heart skip.

Ugh, that idiot. Stop saying unnecessary stuff!

Miya’s right in front of you, duh.

I take a sip of my new cola.

Ow, my throat hurts from chugging the last one.

But seriously, to not notice this far— isn’t that beyond just being dense?

I get why Miya’s so frustrated. If I were in her shoes, I’d probably be even more pissed.

I want the four of us to hang out together again soon.

Asaka’s probably coming back for summer, so I hope this gets resolved by then. I stroke the wristband on my left wrist and sigh.

What’s gonna happen now?

 

2

 

“Ughhh.”

Mahiru slumps onto the table, her mechanical pencil, eraser, and notebook getting swallowed by her oversized chest. What a display of sheer force.

It’s just before noon.

Today’s the last day off before exams, so Mahiru and I have been studying at Moonlight Terrace since morning. They let us in at 7:30 before opening, so we’ve been at it for about four hours, with breaks.

“I’m… done.”

“Need a break?”

When I ask, Mahiru leans back dramatically.

“No, not a break. Just… done.”

“?”

“How can you sit still for so long, Miya?”

“I’m used to staying put.”

God, jocks and their restlessness.

“What’s wrong, Mahiru?”

“She says she’s losing focus.”

When I explain, Yuu-nii grins.

“Heh, Mahiru’s always been restless.”

“Shut up, idiot-nii.”

Her retort lacks energy.

“It’s not even noon yet. It’s only been like four hours.”

“Yeah, but four hours is kinda long.”

“What are you whining about? I’ve worked from 7 a.m. to 7 a.m. the next day before. Haha.”

“…That’s not funny.”

“Yuu, take a break,” his mom calls out.

“Got it.”

Yuu-nii unties his apron. Mahiru stands up, watching him.

“I’m gonna take a walk to clear my head.”

“Fine, but come back soon.”

“Yuu-nii’s on break too, right? Come with me.”

She pushes his back.

“Huh? Alright.”

Wait a sec!

“Mmm, feels good.”

Outside, Mahiru stretches and takes a deep breath.

“Moving around is the best way to refresh. Staying in one place builds up this weird fatigue.”

“Mahiru, make sure you’re back when Yuu-san’s break ends. Don’t go too far.”

“I know.”

The mystery beauty warns her. They really act like friends or sisters. Those two are super close.

I sip a canned coffee from the vending machine, walking behind them. The noon chime echoes through the town.

“It’s already lunch. Wanna grab something to eat? My treat.”

“For real?”

Mahiru turns back, beaming.

“Is that okay, Yuu-san?”

The mystery beauty leans in.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. No big deal.”

“I hope it’s no big deal.”

She sounds worried.

“Don’t underestimate a working man’s wallet! Haha.”

We head to a nearby family restaurant. Family restaurants are great for lunch breaks—tons of menu options and a comfy vibe.

“Yakiniku set with extra rice, cheese doria with salad, a side of omelet, tonjiru, and a deluxe parfait for dessert. Wait, maybe the parfait later. Scratch that, no parfait. What about you two?”

“Tsukimi soba and tuna salad for me.”

“…Paella, large portion.”

“Understood.”

The waitress takes our order with a strained smile.

I feel you, lady.

“Hey, Mahiru, can you even eat all that?”

“Easy peasy.”

“You better not waste any.”

“It’s fine, Yuu-san. Mahiru’s stomach has more capacity than most guys.”

“Seriously…?”

The food arrives.

Mahiru’s order alone takes up half the table. It’s overwhelming.

“Even high school me couldn’t handle that much.”

“Speaking of, Yuu-san, you were in the basketball club, right?”

“Yeah, wait, did I mention that?”

“Oh, uh, I heard it from Mahiru.”

It’s no big deal, but the beauty seems flustered.

“So good!”

Meat, eggs, rice—Mahiru’s mouth devours them like a vacuum. The yakiniku set vanishes, and she moves on to the cheese doria.

Back in the day, she’d shove plain rice at me in the food court because she couldn’t finish it.

“Impressive.”

“She eats even more after club. The other day at the all-you-can-eat yakiniku—”

“Sh-Shut up, just eat already.”

It’s bold but not messy—her eating actually sparks my appetite. Gotta stop staring and dig in.

This paella’s tasty but tricky to eat.

Peeling shrimp shells is a pain.

“Ugh…”

The mystery beauty’s face twitches.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, it brought back a trauma.”

“Trauma? What’s that mean?”

What’s traumatic about paella?

“Well, I’m not good with shelled shrimp. It feels like dissecting and eating bugs… Oh, sorry.”

“It’s fine, I asked.”

We all finish at the same time.

“Thanks for the meal!”

“Yuu-san, thanks for the meal.”

“Yeah.”

She really ate it all. Mahiru yawns contentedly, staring at the empty plates.

“Phew, I’m full and kinda sleepy now.”

“Hey, Mahiru, don’t slouch like that. Bad manners.”

“It’s fine. They say a quick nap boosts your brain, right?”

“Ugh.”

“Man, where’s it all going in that tiny stomach?”

I pat Mahiru’s stomach.

“Wha—”

Her slap stings my cheek.

“Buf!”

“S-Sorry, Yuu-nii!”

“No, that was Yuu-san’s fault.”

“You okay, Yuu-nii?”

“S-Sorry.”

I treated her like a kid again. We head back to the shop, and they dive back into studying. Midterms start tomorrow—good luck to them.

After closing, I muster the courage to ask my mom.

“Hey, Mom.”

“What?”

She looks up from cleaning the kitchen.

“Uh, didn’t the Haruyama family move?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell me their new address?”

 

3

 

“Wooo, exams are over!”

I stretch big.

My polo shirt pulls tight across my chest, but my black undershirt’s tucked into my skirt, so no worries about flashing my stomach.

Still, the guys sneaking glances are annoying.

“Mahhi, what’d you pick for the last question?”

My friend in the front seat turns her chair toward me.

“Four, right?”

“Yeah, thought so.”

As of noon on June 1st, the three-day midterm exams are over. It’s also the start of the summer uniform period—polo shirts or short-sleeve open-collared shirts for everyone.

Plus, club activities are back on, so I’ve been excited since morning.

Two weeks of studying have left my body stiff. I need to move and let off some steam.

Well, studying near Yuu-nii was nice, though.

Now I can casually visit his room too. All good news.

“Mahhi, why’re you grinning? That happy exams are done?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, haha.”

But that dense guy saw Miya almost every day for two weeks and didn’t notice a thing.

What’s the problem?

Miya’s personality’s the main thing that’s changed.

Her looks haven’t changed much, and she still has traces of her childhood self. But that’s from my perspective, having been around her forever.

To Yuu-nii, it’s like we aged ten years in a flash.

Still, he recognized me, didn’t he?

“Hmm.”

“What? Worried about a question?”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Mahiru.”

“Oh, Mahhi, your girlfriend’s here.”

Miya’s at the classroom door, beckoning me in her open-collared shirt.

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“You’re always together. So lovey-dovey.”

“Ugh.”

More like sisters than a girlfriend.

“Look, it’s Haruyama-san.”

“So cute today too.”

“The Ironclad Maidens are together.”

“So divine.”

“Both so pale and beautiful.”

I drag Miya into the hallway to escape the guys’ stares.

“What’s up, Miya?”

“You got club after this?”

“Yeah, after lunch, from one. You heading home?”

“Mystery Research Club’s back on too. Though it’s mostly reading novels and chatting.”

“Let’s grab lunch together then.”

“Yeah.”

Seina-chan’s already in the Mystery Research Club room.

“Miya, you’re late.”

“Sorry, sorry—what’re you watching?”

Seina-chan’s watching the scrapped version of the film we shot for the cultural festival. It’s near the end, where I, in my gal role, reveal myself as the killer.

“UOOOORAAAAA!!”

The on-screen me screams.

“Honestly, this is wild. What turned you into this?”

“Ugh, it’s embarrassing.”

I got dropped from the lead killer role but ended up playing the detective’s assistant instead.

“The more I watch, the more it’s a shame. You were perfect as the victim, but why’d your killer acting get so over-the-top?”

“Haha.”

Being told I nailed the gal role doesn’t feel great.

“At least it wasn’t shown to the whole school.”

That revealing outfit and gaudy gal makeup? I’d die if random people saw it.

“You totally pulled it off.”

“Only you and Misora said that.”

When I sent Misora a pic of my gal look during filming, she texted back, “Sis, amazing!” and “Sis, so cool!”

Kids blurt out what they think, so their compliments are genuine. Though they’re usually ten times sassier.

“Alright then.”

I make instant coffee at the water server and sit by the window. Exams are done, so I can dive into reading. I pull a mystery novel from my bag—a paperback I bought before exams and saved.

“Oh, Miya, did you write the new piece?”

“Huh?”

New piece?

“The short story for this month’s club magazine.”

“Oh!”

I totally forgot, caught up with exams and Yuu-nii.

“That face says you forgot. Deadline’s next Monday.”

“Y-Yikes.”

“Your stories are popular, so you can’t flake. How far along are you?”

“I-It’s fine. I’ll start now.”

The plot and tricks are ready; I just need to write it.

I grab my notebook and coffee and head to the computer.

 

4

 

“Here?”

I’m in a residential area in the southwest part of town.

It’s not far from Moonlight Terrace, but with June’s muggy heat, I regret not borrowing a car.

It’s just past 3 p.m.

Following the address Mom gave me, I walk on, a mix of anticipation and anxiety building in my chest.

Exams are over, so maybe I’ll see Miya.

I wonder how she’s grown up.

Knowing that brat, she’s probably a gal or a delinquent. She’s been like a little sister since she was a baby.

The expectation of seeing Miya again.

But at the same time…

Mahiru always gets flustered or awkward when I mention Miya. She never brings her to the shop, and she rarely talks about her.

Are they not close anymore?

I can’t talk, since I’ve drifted from friends too.

But those girls were like real sisters—there’s no way… though I can’t say for sure. I don’t want it to be true, but I can’t ask Mahiru directly.

The anxiety of facing the truth about their current relationship.

If they’ve really grown apart…

The thought alone tightens my chest.

I stop in front of a house.

“Here.”

The nameplate reads “Haruyama.”

No mistake. This is it.

A two-story house with a black minivan parked out front.

I steel myself and press the intercom. Soon, the front door opens slowly. A beautiful woman appears—Miku Haruyama.

“Oh, Yuu-kun!”

“Long time no see.”

“It’s been forever! You haven’t changed a bit.”

“You either, Miku-san. Still as beautiful as ever.”

“Flattery won’t get you anything.”

It’s no lie.

I’m stunned—she looks almost exactly like I remember. The so-called “beautiful witch.” Barely any wrinkles or blemishes, just a bit more filled out. Her long brown hair is tied back, and she’s in a white T-shirt and fitted three-quarter jeans.

“Come in.”

“Thanks for having me.”

I’m led to the living room and offered a seat on the sofa.

“Here you go.”

Miku brings two iced teas.

“Oh, you didn’t have to.”

“We’re not strangers, so drop the formalities.”

“Fair enough.”

“You came back in spring, right?”

“Yeah, end of March.”

“Sayaka mentioned it, but life out there was tough, huh?”

“Yeah, I barely had time to come back.”

“You should’ve come back sooner.”

“I kept thinking, ‘just a bit more,’ and before I knew it, ten years passed, haha.”

The conversation shifts to my life in Tokyo. I joke about my time at a toxic company, but it only gets wry smiles. I don’t have many other Tokyo memories, so oh well.

“Ten years, huh. Time flies.”

Miku stirs the ice in her glass with a straw, murmuring.

“For these ten years, Miya’s been wanting to see you.”

“Is Miya still at school?”

“She usually gets home around seven, but sometimes as late as nine.”

That brat’s probably out goofing off…

“Want a refill?”

“Thanks.”

Miku stands with my empty glass.

That’s when it happens.

“I’m home!”

A voice from the entrance. I think it’s Miya, but it’s a kid’s voice.

A kid?

A girl steps into the living room.

Long brown hair in low twin-tails with a stray ahoge sticking up. Large, slightly upturned cat-like eyes that scream sass, and a tightly pursed mouth that shows her spunk.

Black T-shirt, denim miniskirt, red schoolbag with tons of straps dangling.

Who’s this?

For a second, I thought it was Miya, but the age doesn’t match.

“Misora, welcome back!”

Miku returns.

“Misora?”

“Oh, right, you didn’t know. This is my younger daughter, Misora.”

What?

“Ugh.”

Misora narrows her eyes, glaring at me.

Uh-oh, does she think I’m a creep? Coming home to find a random guy chilling in your house would do that.

“Mom, cheating?”

“No way. This is Yuu-kun, from the Aritsuki family next door—”

I stand and introduce myself.

“Hi, I’m Aritsuki Yuu.”

She’s about ten, maybe.

She looks so much like Miya would in a few years.

“Go on, Misora, say hi.”

Tossing her schoolbag onto the sofa, Misora looks up at me. Her confident, almost cocky gaze feels just like Miya’s as a kid.

I can’t help but feel nostalgic.

“Hey.”

Her defiant eyes lock onto me.

Is she wary of me?

Misora turns to Miku.

“Mom, snacks.”

“Wash your hands first.”

“Okay.”

Misora jogs to the sink.

Whoa, that was a shock.

Why’s that old guy in our house?

I wash my hands and return to the living room.

When I sit across from him, he gives me a lame smile.

“You look so much like Miya. What grade?”

“Third, duh.”

“I see.”

“How old are you, old man?”

“O-Old man…”

“Hey, Misora, it’s Yuu-san. Sorry, Yuu-kun.”

“It’s fine. She really is like Miya was.”

Miya, Mahiru, and Asaka used to play with him a lot when they were kids, before I was born.

He doesn’t seem like a bad guy, but he’s kinda spacey, no energy. Mahiru said he was a reliable big brother, but he doesn’t seem like it.

The intercom rings.

“Who could that be… Oh, right, the summer festival meeting.”

Mom rushes to the door.

“I’ll be back in an hour or so. Yuu-kun, make yourself at home.”

“Sure.”

It’s almost four. Miya might be home soon.

…This could be bad.

According to Mahiru, Miya’s trying to get this guy to realize who she is, but on his own.

If they meet at our house, he’ll figure it out, but that’s not how Miya wants it to go. Oh well.

Guess I’ll step in and help.

I’ve got those cosplay photos from first year… and the ones from the recent film might work too.

When Miku leaves, Misora pulls out her phone.

“Man, Miya’s gonna be pissed. She’s scary when she’s mad.”

What’s this about?

“That cushion you’re sitting on? It’s Miya’s favorite. She gets super mad if someone uses her stuff.”

Misora’s eyes are on the cushion under me. So this is Miya’s?

“Haha, my bad.”

I move the cushion aside.

“When Miya gets mad, she’s terrifying. Oh, here’s a pic of her.”

Misora shows me her phone screen. I’m floored by what I see.

Bright blonde hair, black eyeshadow rimming her eyes, curled fake lashes, red contacts. Blood-red lipstick, tons of ear piercings…

“What?”

A big tongue sticking out, middle finger up in a crude gesture.

The heavy makeup hides any trace of the old Miya.

“And this is a recent one.”

Misora shows another photo.

It’s at some hotel, maybe.

A revealing off-shoulder outfit. Her hair’s back to brown, but the left side’s meshed with highlights. Heavy eye makeup, even more piercings. A black mask pulled down to her chin, her tongue licking her lips.

And, of course, the middle finger.

“No way.”

I’d imagined she’d become a gal or delinquent, but not this far.

Even though I’d half-expected it, seeing it for real hits hard.

A cold shock, like an icicle through my heart, pierces me.

It feels like Miya’s gone somewhere far away. No, not just feels—she’s not the Miya I knew anymore…

Memories of her flash and fade.

“Yuu-nii, Yuu-nii,” she’d follow me around, crying, acting tough, always doing impulsive things. That brat grew into a delinquent gal JK…

“You better leave before Miya gets back.”

“Y-Yeah, you’re right.”

There’s no need to leave, but I stand up anyway.

Deep down, I know why.

I’m scared to face the new Miya.

Ugh, I stayed way too late.

Past 5 p.m.

The deadline’s next week, so I didn’t need to rush.

Seina-chan’s critiques are brutal, though. Maybe I’ll swing by Moonlight Terrace. Exams and writing have wiped me out.

Seeing Yuu-nii’s face might cheer me up.

Oh, but I think he said he’s off today.

He might not be at the shop.

Wandering the town, I spot Yuu-nii by chance.

What luck. He looks kinda unsteady, though—is he okay? Even from a distance, he seems down.

I jog over and call out.

“Hey, Yuu-san!”

“Oh, it’s you.”

His face is dark.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just… stuff.”

His voice trembles. Did something bad happen?

“If you’ve got something on your mind, I’m all ears. Let’s sit and talk.”

We sit side by side on a park bench.

The sun’s setting, and the night’s curtain is starting to fall.

“So, what’s up?”

“…”

Yuu-nii stays silent, lips tight.

He’s clearly troubled. It takes a few minutes for him to speak.

“I told you about the brat next door, right?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Calling me a brat is uncalled for.

“So, I went to her house today.”

“What!?”

Did he just say my house?

My house?

Did I get found out?

“If I could see my little sister figure after ten years.”

“Oh.”

If Mom or Misora showed him my photos, it’s over. But judging by his attitude, that doesn’t seem likely.

“And her little sister showed me some photos.”

What?

He saw them?

Is he playing dumb, knowing everything?

I hold back a flood of questions, waiting for his next words.

“And she’s turned into this crazy gal.”

“G-Gal?”

Me, a gal? What’s that about?

“All shiny blonde hair, piercings, mesh highlights, heavy makeup.”

I don’t get it.

In my seventeen (almost eighteen) years, gals are beyond my comprehension. Me, a gal? No way…

Oh, I get it.

Misora must’ve shown him my gal photos as a prank.

For the first-year cosplay contest and the club’s film, I did gal makeup twice. Blonde wig, fake piercings, clip-in extensions for highlights.

So that’s it… and he didn’t realize it was me!

How dense can you get?

“So, I kinda figured she’d turn out like that. She was such a hopeless brat, always acting without thinking, causing me trouble… But—”

“But?”

“When I saw she really became like that, it hit me hard. Like she’s gone to a world I can’t reach. The Miya I knew… she’s gone.”

A tear rolls down Yuu-nii’s cheek.

Seeing it, my chest aches.

What am I doing?

It started as a playful prank.

I was annoyed he didn’t recognize me, so I decided to mess with him a bit.

But he never noticed, and I got stubborn, dragging Mahiru and his mom into it…

And this is the result.

I’ve made Yuu-nii worry needlessly, made him anxious, and I hate myself for it.

Maybe it’s enough.

If he hasn’t noticed by now, he probably never will.

This stupid stubbornness is just hurting him more.

“H-Huh?”

I realize tears are streaming down my cheeks too.

I wipe them with my palm.

Weird, they won’t stop.

I have to say it.

Wipe these tears and tell him I’m Miya.

“Haha, catching your tears, huh?”

“…Miya?”

“Fweh?”

It slipped out unconsciously.

Like hearing a nostalgic song stirs childhood feelings, or a familiar scent brings back memories, it came suddenly.

Wiping tears with her palm—a childish crying style I rarely saw.

Seeing it, I remember a certain brat. Sassy, selfish, stubborn, yet a crybaby. Always sticking to me, causing trouble.

Haruyama Miya.

The Miya from my memories blends seamlessly with the beauty in front of me.

No, what am I thinking?

I just learned at the Haruyama house that Miya’s a gal now. No way that brat became this pure beauty—

“Yuu-nii?”

She murmurs, looking into my eyes.

That familiar sound warms my heart. Could it really—

“Miya, is that you?”

“…You finally noticed.”

The beauty—Miya—hugs me, tears still on her face.

“Welcome back.”

“It’s really you, Miya?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, maybe we should let go?”

“?”

A soft, pleasant fragrance envelops me.

Even though my brain knows this is Miya, hugging her like this makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.

I need to reset my mind.

This is Miya. This is Miya. This is that brat.

Alright.

“Idiot. Why didn’t you just say so?”

Who’d have thought that brat would grow into such a pure beauty?

Miya puffs out her cheeks.

“Because you didn’t recognize me when we met at the station. I knew it was you right away.”

“Well, that’s—”

“So I thought I’d play a little prank by not saying my name, but you still didn’t notice…”

Oh, I get it.

The pieces start falling into place.

She knew where my family’s house was, was familiar with my parents, had brown hair, wasn’t fazed by bugs, was close with Mahiru…

Looking back, there were so many obvious hints.

I can’t believe I didn’t notice.

“I knew it was you right away.”

“Moron. A kid’s ten years and an adult’s ten years aren’t the same.”

“You recognized Mahiru right away.”

“That’s ‘cause she’s still Mahiru after ten years. I never would’ve thought you’d turn out like—”

“Like what?”

“N-Nothing.”

I can’t say it. I never imagined she’d grow into such a pure beauty.

My assumption that she’d become a gal or delinquent totally threw me off.

Looking closely, yeah, the traces of that brat are still there.

“…Wait, then what were those crazy photos?”

“Those were just cosplay with gal makeup.”

“Oh, I see.”

What a relief.

Miya didn’t go wild after all.

So she and Mahiru aren’t distant either—their bond is still the same.

Phew, that’s good to know.

“For the record, guessing someone’s name doesn’t work as a game.”

“But the fact that you thought it could be a game was the biggest hint. For it to work, you’d need to know the person’s real name, so that narrows it down.”

“What a twisted logic.”

“…”

“…”

Awkward.

The mystery beauty was Miya.

That’s fine.

The problem is the feelings I had for the mystery beauty.

She grew up to be so damn cute. Now I feel like an idiot for fawning over her.

“By the way, Yuu-nii, what now?”

“What now?”

“The game’s reward.”

“Huh?”

“You said you’d do anything.”

“Oh.”

I totally forgot.

“Uh, just to confirm, ‘anything’ means…”

“Anything’s fine.”

Miya says, her face turning red.

Damn, she’s cute.

Like Mahiru, who’d think those brats would grow into beauties? I’m annoyed at myself for getting flustered so many times.

“Uh, well…”

“What?”

Miya glances at me sideways.

“On hold.”

“Huh?”

“I-I mean, I don’t have anything I need right now. On hold. Done, end of story.”

“If you’re fine with that, whatever.”

Miya purses her lips, looking disappointed.

“You’ve grown up, Miya.”

“…Yeah. Ten years, you know.”

“Ten years, huh.”

“Why didn’t you come back for ten years?”

“I wanted to. I wanted to come back and see you guys, but I didn’t have the time.”

“I was lonely.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, you should be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So.”

Miya stands and takes my hand.

“Don’t go anywhere anymore, okay?”

“I won’t.”

Looking up, a beautiful moon floats in the night sky.

 

5

 

“What…”

Misora is bewildered.

She went through the trouble of sending the old guy away, but now her sister and the old guy are back together. They weren’t supposed to meet at the house, so what happened?

“Yuu-kun, stay for dinner.”

Mom says cheerfully.

“Thanks for having me.”

“Yuu-nii, over here.”

Her sister and the old guy sit side by side on the sofa.

Wait, she’s calling him “Yuu-nii”!

“Misora, come over and greet him properly.”

“Fiiine.”

What?

What’s going on?

Misora’s head fills with question marks.