Chapter 4 – The thing that was kept secret

The weekend felt more like lingering summer than autumn, with sweat-inducing heat that belied the season.

On the road to the station, heat shimmered off the asphalt, and a lukewarm breeze brushed against cheeks.

“Ugh, it’s hot…”

Hayato glared at the blazing sun high in the clear blue sky, as if it were spewing the last remnants of summer, and wiped sweat from his brow.

The station area was bustling with people on this holiday.

Even without a specific meeting spot, standing still drew attention.

Spotting Haruki near the ticket machines, scanning the crowd with phone in hand, Hayato raised a hand and called out.

“Haruki, sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Oh, Hayato… Just you? Where’s Hime-chan and Saki-chan?”

“Yeah, they had something to do, so we’re meeting them there.”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s catch the train… Oh, gotta buy a ticket first.”

After buying his ticket and passing through the gate, the train pulled in just in time.

Urged by Haruki, already on the platform, Hayato hopped aboard.

The holiday train had some empty seats, but none for two together, so they stood near the door, gripping the handrail and catching their breath.

“Phew, made it.”

“Not to sound like Hime-chan, but don’t you ever get an IC card? My app gives points, you know.”

“Uh, well…”

Haruki tilted her head curiously, and Hayato scratched his head.

He’d been told this before, but he didn’t have a real reason. Cash was easier to track for spending, and since he walked to save on train fares for work or visits, he rarely needed one. Plus, he was wary of things like hacking, not fully understanding how it all worked.

Frowning as he pondered a response, Haruki gave him a skeptical look.

“What, saving up for a scooter? So you don’t need the train?”

“Nah, it’s not that. I just don’t ride trains much, so I don’t need one.”

“It’d be handy to have, though. Just get one.”

“Maybe, but it’s such a hassle.”

Hayato laughed vaguely to dodge the topic.

But Haruki frowned and pressed further.

“Don’t you avoid scooters for the same reason?”

“Hm, true. There’s tons of shops within walking distance, parking’s limited, and maintenance costs add up. Trains are cheaper and easier for going out.”

“Wow, Hayato, that’s so practical it’s boring!”

“Haha, but—”

He paused, glancing out the window.

Under the cloudless western sky, Mt. Fuji came into view.

Gazing at it, he let his thoughts slip out.

“If I had a scooter, on a day like this, I could just ride out there. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

It wasn’t a grand reason. He knew it sounded childish, and he wasn’t even sure he’d go alone.

It was like a talisman—the idea that he could go anywhere if he wanted.

To be there in a flash if someone important needed him.

As Hayato chuckled sheepishly, Haruki, staring at Mt. Fuji, murmured, “I get it—”

“Achoo!”

She let out a cute sneeze.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. The AC’s hitting me here. I’ve got a jacket.”

Rubbing her arms, Haruki wore a sleeveless top and checkered skirt, summer attire like Hayato’s. But she had a thin jacket, which she slipped on and twirled in front of him.

“How’s this? Got it with Hime-chan and the others.”

“…Kinda autumn-y all of a sudden.”

“Right? It’s hot today, so I’m layering smart.”

“Huh.”

Girls must put so much thought into clothes, Hayato thought, giving a curt reply. Haruki shrugged and said pointedly, “You should try dressing up too, Hayato.”

“Uh, I’m fine as is.”

“Changing your style shakes things up! People react differently, and it’s fun. Even you get surprised, right?”

“Ugh.”

True, since reuniting, Haruki’s varied looks often caught him off guard. But her teasing tone made him frown slightly.

He tried picturing himself dressing up to surprise her.

Having lived oblivious to fashion, the best his imagination could muster was himself in a sheep costume—clearly the wrong kind of surprise. His frown deepened. Haruki, seeing his face, gave a wry smile.

Soon, they reached their station.

The sprawling, complex station was packed with people heading to their destinations.

Today’s meeting spot, per Himeko’s orders, was the department store entrance inside the station, not the usual bird statue.

How many times had he been here? He still hadn’t grasped the station’s layout, but following signs and the crowd made navigating easier. He was getting used to the city.

They arrived at the entrance smoothly.

Scanning for familiar faces, a “Yo!” came from behind.

“Hayato-kun, Nikaido-san.”

“Yo, Kazuki.”

Turning, Hayato saw Kazuki jogging over, slightly flustered. Behind him, a flashy older woman looked disappointed, suggesting he’d just escaped her.

Hayato and Haruki exchanged glances, chuckling wryly—classic Kazuki.

“Still a magnet for trouble, huh?”

“Haha, it’s rough. But Nikaido-san probably gets hit on plenty too, right?”

“I make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, Haruki’s basically a shut-in who avoids going out.”

“Hayato!?”

“Haha, you two are as tight as ever,” Kazuki said, eyes wide before smiling. After a laugh, he glanced around. “Just you two?”

“Yeah, we just got here—oh?”

Hayato spotted Iori and Ema approaching from the city side.

He started to wave but froze, swallowing his words.

“Matching outfits, first time.”

“Kinda embarrassing.”

“But I’m happy.”

“…Me too.”

“Ehe.”

“Hehe.”

Holding hands, they exchanged shy, sweet words. It was a big change for them, likely spurred by recently learning the importance of expressing feelings after an incident.

Hayato noticed them fidgeting with matching turtle keychains on their bags, blushing and looking away when their eyes met. They must’ve bought them earlier.

They were so lovey-dovey. Their affection was heartwarming as friends, but the sugary vibe was almost too much.

Hayato hesitated to call out.

Turning to Haruki and Kazuki, his cheek twitching, he saw them shrug with sugary-overload expressions.

“—Oh.”

“!?”

“Hey, yo.”

Iori’s eyes met his, and embarrassment flooded Iori’s face. Ema, blushing, stammered, “This is, uh…” and twisted shyly. Hayato managed an awkward smile.

An uneasy silence hung.

Then, a loud “Ahh!” broke it as Himeko charged from the department store toward Iori and Ema.

“Eek, so lovey-dovey! Ema-san, so cute! Oh, that’s a couple’s hand-hold, right!?”

“! Himeko-chan!?”

“H-Himeko-chan!? This is, um…”

“Wait, matching keychains!? A pair!?”

“I-Iori said we should get something matching…”

“Ema, wait!?”

“Kyaa!”

Himeko’s excitement surged at Ema’s words.

Iori floundered while Ema seemed secretly pleased.

Hayato and the others exchanged looks, chuckling wryly.

Then it hit him—Saki wasn’t here. Wasn’t she with Himeko? He tilted his head, hearing a flustered “Hime-chan, wait!”

Himeko must’ve bolted ahead after spotting Iori and Ema.

Hayato sighed at his sister’s antics and turned toward Saki’s voice.

“Saki… huh?”

His voice caught oddly. Seeing the girl approaching, he gaped, eyes wide, blinking in disbelief.

“Hime-chan’s so… Oh, looks like we’re the last ones. Did we keep you waiting?”

“Nah, it’s…”

It had to be Saki—same voice. But he couldn’t help staring, rude as it was.

The girl before him, cheeks puffed in mild annoyance, was the opposite of Saki’s usual gentle, reserved vibe. She was vibrant.

Her flaxen, wavy hair was styled in a voluminous half-up, her off-shoulder knit top and miniskirt revealing delicate shoulders and slender thighs usually hidden. It was dazzling, almost forbidden to look at. Her makeup was flawless, accentuating her features, amplifying her elegance.

It was like the city personified—a polished, stunning girl.

Hayato, Haruki, and Kazuki stared, speechless.

Saki’s expression clouded with worry.

“Um, is it… weird?”

“! N-no, uh…”

Her anxious tone snapped Hayato back. He fumbled for words.

“I-I’m just surprised. Your hair’s different, it suits you. And, uh, your clothes—different vibe, but bright and… nice.”

He meant to sound normal, but his words stumbled.

“! Thanks! Yay!”

Saki’s face lit up, her fists clenched in joy as she bounced like a kid.

Hayato’s heart raced—nerves or something else—stirring unfamiliar emotions.

Blushing, he glanced away, meeting Haruki’s eyes.

“See, Hayato? Fashion’s powerful, right?”

“Yeah…”

Haruki grinned and turned to Saki.

“Saki-chan, that’s super cute! It suits you!”

“Ehe, I tried something new. Since we’re in the city, you know!”

“Totally different vibe, but it works! The contrast’s wild—I was as stunned as Hayato, didn’t know what to say!”

“Haha, guess I nailed the surprise!”

Saki spun shyly.

Kazuki, now composed, chimed in.

“Murao-san, it really suits you. I’m shocked. Changing this much must feel like a whole new you, right?”

“! Yeah! I’m, like, more excited, like I’m not myself…”

“Like your look’s pulling you into a new version of you?”

“Exactly!”

“…I knew a girl who became who she wanted to be like that. Got a ‘you’ you’re aiming for, Murao-san?”

“Eek!?”

Saki blinked rapidly, flustered, glancing at Hayato while mumbling “Uh” and “Well.” Kazuki smiled warmly, maybe teasing, maybe watching over her.

Hayato stepped in.

“Let’s head to the venue.”

The city center on a Sunday was packed with people out shopping or having fun.

Luckily, the crowd naturally flowed toward Shine Spirits City, making navigation easy.

But Himeko, walking beside him, groaned about the heat.

“Ugh, it’s too hot…”

Her outfit—puffy-sleeved top and ribbed skirt—leaned mature and autumnal. She muttered “Fashion is sacrifice” like a mantra.

Hayato shot her a deadpan look instead of agreeing.

“Then wear something cooler.”

“Ugh, Onii, you don’t get it! Look at Kazuki-san!”

She pointed at Kazuki, and Hayato took a look.

Kazuki’s monochrome shirt and tapered pants gave a clean, mature vibe, with canvas shoes adding an autumn touch. Hayato let out an impressed “Huh.”

Kazuki, noticing, smiled.

“Haha, thanks. Himeko-chan’s cute as always too.”

“Hehe, Kazuki-san’s smooth as ever. Ugh, Onii, you could at least try half as hard as him. Look at you—no seasonal vibe at all!”

“…Sorry.”

Pointed out for wearing summer clothes, Hayato grimaced.

Catching Kazuki’s eye, he got a sympathetic shrug and a mischievous grin.

“Yeah, Hayato-kun, maybe think of it as dressing up for others, not just yourself.”

“For others…?”

“If you’re the only one slacking while everyone’s putting in effort, it kinda kills their vibe, right?”

“Hm, that’s…”

It made sense, he admitted.

Himeko nodded eagerly in agreement.

“Hayato-kun’s got good bones, you know.”

“Kazuki-san, help pick out Onii’s clothes next time!”

“Maybe drag him to a salon too.”

“Yes! Transform him completely!”

“If it’s Hayato-kun, maybe—”

“But if it’s Onii—”

“…”

Himeko and Kazuki got carried away planning his makeover.

Feeling awkward, Hayato stepped back.

Saki was chatting excitedly with Iori and Ema about their routines, apparently into romance talk.

He glanced around.

Despite the heat, passersby wore softer, autumnal tones, like Himeko and the others.

Recalling Kazuki’s words, he looked at himself. His summer outfit did stand out, maybe not in a good way.

Glancing at Haruki, he noted her striking features drawing occasional looks in the crowd. As her partner, he should probably care more about his appearance.

Maybe I should step it up… But how? Frowning, he noticed Haruki staring at a strand of her hair, her expression oddly serious.

“Haruki? Split ends or something?”

“…No.”

Her sulky tone came with an exasperated sigh.

Fiddling with her hair, she hesitated before speaking.

“What if I, like, bleached my hair?”

“You, changing your hair color…?”

He studied her long, glossy black hair—a key part of her polished, elegant look, her trademark. Imagining it another color was tough; she’d be a different person.

Frowning, he spoke honestly.

“No clue.”

“Got it.”

Haruki gave a vague smile, her gaze on Saki.

Maybe Saki’s transformation sparked something.

Feeling like he understood, Hayato scratched his head, cleared his throat, and faced forward.

“I like your hair as it is, though.”

“…Huh?”

Leaving her surprised voice behind, he chased after Himeko and the others.

They reached Shine Spirits City’s exhibition hall.

A massive banner screamed “Last Summer Clear-Out Sale!” as throngs of women crowded the venue.

Hayato had seen crowds here before, but today’s was intense. No wonder they used the event hall instead of the specialty stores.

“““Wow…”””

Hayato, Himeko, and Saki—the Tsukinose trio—muttered in unison.

The women around them had a predatory glint, like hunters after treasure, exuding a tense vibe.

This bargain sale was a battlefield, making Hayato gulp.

But Himeko, Saki, and Ema were fired up.

“No time to waste! Let’s go, Saki-chan, Ema-san!”

“Yeah, hurry, Hime-chan! Good stuff’ll be gone!”

“Iori, meet up around here later! Gotta snag some deals!”

“Come on, Haru-chan!”

“M-Mya!?”

Haruki, hesitant like Hayato, was dragged in by Himeko.

Stunned by their enthusiasm, Hayato, Kazuki, and Iori—the guys—exchanged looks and chuckled.

“Let’s do our thing.”

“Yeah, good to avoid that chaos.”

“Haha, Ema takes forever picking stuff.”

Without a word, they headed into the venue.

The exhibition hall was packed.

Neatly arranged stalls lined the space, a grand sight. Brands beyond the city’s specialty stores were here too.

It was easy to bump shoulders if you weren’t careful, but Hayato couldn’t help looking around.

Kazuki and Iori were equally curious, a sign of the event’s scale.

Scanning yukata, Hayato saw simple designs, cute pastels, bold patterns, and flashy styles—each brand distinct.

Summer clothes, parasols, sandals, hats, and fans were plentiful too.

It was visually fun, and he started to get why Himeko and the others were so excited.

They reached the men’s section, less crowded but still busy.

“Whoa, what’s that?”

Iori darted to a mannequin at the entrance, Hayato hurrying after.

“Man, that’s loud… Kabuki series corner?”

“Next to it’s a samurai, ronin corner… Haha, totally fits.”

“This one’s for matching couple coords… Iori, how about it?”

“Wha!? No way!”

“Come on, it’s a chance, right?”

“Then you wear it with Nikaido-san!”

Iori pointed at a yukata with white and orange checkers, cute for a guy but perfect for Haruki.

Hayato imagined wearing it with her.

It’d scream “close couple,” which was embarrassing but brought to mind Haruki’s playful grin, getting more excited by the second—until he shook his head.

“…Nah, no way.”

“Haha, right?”

“Why me and Haruki, anyway? We’re just childhood friends.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

Hayato’s grumbled complaint made Iori’s eyes widen in disbelief, then curve into a sly grin.

“So, you’d rather match with Miko-chan?”

“What!?”

Iori’s words made Hayato picture matching with Saki, his heart jumping.

Before, he’d have imagined her serene, shrine-maiden smile from her Kagura dance.

But now, her shy, blushing face came to mind—and he slapped both cheeks hard.

“Ha-Hayato!?”

“Ow!”

His mind was a mess.

A pang of guilt mixed with swirling, indescribable emotions.

Panicking, he scanned the store to change the subject.

“S-so, lots of options, huh?”

“…Yeah, more than I expected. Hard to choose.”

“I’m clueless about this stuff… Where’s Kazuki?”

“Thought he was with us—where’d he go?”

Stepping deeper into the store, they found him, but Hayato hesitated to call out.

Kazuki was intently examining a yukata on a hanger, his expression unusually serious, brows furrowed.

He’d never looked this focused, not even in club activities.

As he picked one up, Iori spoke.

“Kazuki, going with that?”

“Oh, Iori-kun, Hayato-kun. Just a candidate…”

He lifted a basket overflowing with yukata, likely gathered in minutes.

Hayato and Iori blinked in shock.

Unfazed, Kazuki smiled, pulling out yukata after yukata, pressing them on them.

“This for Hayato-kun? Bright colors might suit you. Modern patterns, like this…”

“Uh, okay.”

“For Iori-kun, maybe darker fabric with bold patterns? Or something cute like this…”

“Y-yeah?”

Hayato and Iori reeled as Kazuki’s eyes sparkled.

He clearly loved this.

The yukata he picked felt stylish—Hayato wouldn’t have found them alone.

Iori, impressed, started choosing from Kazuki’s picks.

“Guess I’ll pick from these. Thanks, Kazuki.”

“Me too. Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

Kazuki sighed in relief, and Hayato chuckled.

“So, which one for you?”

Kazuki frowned, troubled.

“That’s the thing—I’m torn. Simple and safe, chic and calm, or bold and unique… Can’t decide. What do you think, Hayato-kun?”

“…Tough call.”

Hayato had asked out of curiosity, but his lack of fashion sense left him stumped. Kazuki could pull off anything.

Still, after being helped, he couldn’t just say “whatever.”

As they exchanged puzzled looks, a sense of déjà vu hit Hayato.

Realizing why, he nodded and blurted out, “Oh, you’re kinda like Himeko in this.”

“!? R-really?”

“Yeah, we have talks like this at home.”

“Huh…”

Kazuki looked surprised, even rattled.

Hayato, realizing comparing his friend to his sister might’ve been rude, scratched his head awkwardly, searching for a follow-up.

Iori stepped in, hesitant.

“Hey, uh, should I pick something Ema might like?”

“Yeah, good idea.”

“Ema’d probably go for calm colors, so I’ll take this darker one. Bold patterns add some flair.”

Iori grinned, satisfied with his choice.

Hayato nodded, impressed.

“You really know Isami-san’s tastes, huh?”

“We’ve been together a while. Picked my outfit today with her in mind. Don’t you know what Nikaido-san might pick?”

“Haruki? She’s always pulling pranks or trying to shock me, so I’ve got no clue what she’d choose.”

Hayato shrugged, and they laughed.

After a beat, Kazuki asked, “What about Himeko-chan? What’d she pick?”

“Hmm, she chases trends, so it’s hard to say. Lately, she’s into mature stuff—doesn’t want to seem like a country bumpkin.”

“Hm, got it.”

Hayato meant to poke fun at his sister, but Kazuki, finger on chin, grew thoughtful.

“I’ll check out some other stuff.”

“Hey, Kazuki?”

Kazuki vanished into the store.

Hayato watched, caught off guard, as Iori, who’d finished paying, spoke up.

“So, Hayato, which one?”

“Hmm, tough choice…”

All the options were great, and unlike Iori, he had no clear deciding factor.

Frowning as he compared them, he noticed something.

“Alright, this one.”

“That?”

“Yeah, it’s the cheapest.”

His deadpan reasoning made Iori blink, then burst into laughter.

“…Pfft, hahahaha! So you, Hayato!”

“Shut up!”

◇◇◇

To Saki, the exhibition hall was dazzling.

A riot of colors, a garden of blooming yukata like vibrant flowers.

Saki and Himeko flitted from stall to stall like butterflies, examining yukata.

Since the venue was so vast, the middle schoolers and high schoolers split up to shop.

“Saki-chan, how’s this?”

“Wow, so cute! A bit sweet, but with today’s hair, it could work?”

“What about this one!?”

“Hmm, super bold… But the festival’s at dusk, so maybe it’s fine?”

“Oh, that one might match too!”

“Pretty wild design, but it’s a festival… Tough call…”

“Haha, your vibe’s so different today, I wanna try everything on you! Add it to the list?”

“Sure!”

Himeko, more hyped than usual, handed Saki a yukata, which she added to a basket. It was her third basket, all for her, picked with Himeko.

Saki gave a wry smile—too many.

“We’ve got a lot of candidates.”

“Yeah, time to narrow it down.”

The designs were all great, but she couldn’t buy them all. Choosing one would be tough.

Then it hit her.

“Hey, what about Hime-chan’s—”

“Oh, that one looks good!”

“—ah.”

Before Saki could finish, Himeko darted to another stall, drawn by something new.

Saki started to follow but stopped, eyeing the three full baskets—she couldn’t leave them.

Instead, she moved to a nearby mirror, nervously trying yukata against herself.

“Hehe, it’s not even me.”

She giggled.

A pastel, feminine brand emphasized her innocence. A bright, gyaru-style one flaunted bold spider lilies. Neither was something old Saki would’ve picked, but they weren’t bad.

Trying more, each mirror reflection showed a vibrant, cute girl unlike the plain Tsukinoe Saki. It felt like seeing someone else.

She wondered how Hayato would react.

Her outfit today had surprised him, but whether he liked it was another matter. She wanted to match his tastes.

“…He doesn’t seem to care about that stuff,” she muttered, frowning.

She didn’t dislike her old self—her world had just expanded. But that made choosing harder.

The girl from before crossed her mind.

Her advice had sparked this change.

She’d know what to do, maybe offer tips. Saki wanted to thank her and talk about crushes too. That girl felt like a mirror image, etched in her mind.

But their meeting was chance.

What were the odds of meeting again?

“—Oh.”

Seeing a girl who looked like her, scanning the crowd, Saki let out a stunned sound.

So similar.

But maybe not her.

They’d only spoken briefly—she’d likely forgotten plain Saki.

For shy Saki, approaching a near-stranger was unthinkable.

Yet, impulsively, her body moved.

“Um, excuse me!”

“!? Uh…?”

The girl jumped, turning with a confused look. Saki faltered, embarrassed, fearing a mistake.

But she steeled herself—if she was wrong, she’d apologize—and stumbled on.

This boldness came from her new look.

“Um, before, at the city, you helped with clothes and hair… Do you remember…!?”

“…Huh?”

The girl frowned, tilting her head, but when Saki undid her hair and mimed pigtails, her eyes widened, mouth agape.

“T-thanks to you, I tried hard…!”

“…You’re that girl! Wow, I didn’t recognize you!”

“Ehe, I feel like I’m not myself either. Thank you for back then!”

Saki redid her hair and bowed.

“No, please, I was just meddling! You’re the one who made it happen!”

The girl lowered her lashes, a hint of sadness.

“But still! This look, surprising people—it’s thanks to you!”

“Your crush…”

“Y-yeah.”

Saki blushed, nodding shyly.

The girl mumbled, looking frustrated.

“…”

“…”

An awkward silence hung.

They glanced at each other, searching for words.

““Um!””

Their voices overlapped, and they locked eyes.

“Pfft.”

“Hehe.”

They burst into laughter.

“I’m so glad we met again. I wanted to talk more, but I didn’t know your name… I’m Murao. Village ‘Mura’ and tail ‘O’—Murao.”

“I’m Sato. Just, you know, regular Sato. …Here for a yukata?”

“Yeah, for a festival with friends. But I don’t know what to pick…”

“I see…”

Sato nodded, studying Saki closely, hand on chin.

Unused to such scrutiny, Saki squirmed.

Sato cleared her throat, her tone serious, hesitant.

“So, uh, what’s your crush like?”

“Like…?”

“Looks, relationship, their tastes… Are they from school, older, younger? I don’t know them.”

“…Oh.”

It made sense.

Saki didn’t know Sato’s crush either, so she’d only give vague advice if asked.

“He’s Hime-chan’s… no, my best friend’s older brother, a childhood friend.”

“Your best friend’s brother…?”

“Yeah. He’s not super polished, kinda rustic, like I was… Haha, we’re both country kids new to the city.”

“I see…”

She’d stepped closer from that far-yet-near place.

She wanted him to see her as a girl, but with friends like Haruki and Himeko around, and being his sister’s friend forever, it was tough.

She needed Sato’s help.

Sato smiled softly.

“He’s been close by, huh? Let’s use your old image.”

“My old image…?”

“Yeah. If he’s known you forever, he’s got a fixed idea of you. Pick something familiar but different to make him notice. Any colors he likes on you?”

“Um, red and white… like, miko clothes.”

“…Miko clothes?”

“I’m a shrine maiden back home.”

“Miko?”

“Here.”

Saki showed photos of herself in casual or festival miko attire.

Sato’s eyes widened, muttering, “Miko… They’re real…” She glanced between the phone and Saki, then narrowed her eyes, rifling through a basket and handing Saki a yukata.

“How about this? With your old image—and your hair like this—”

“Oh, got it! Then the obi—”

They huddled, strategizing.

Sato’s precise suggestions were eye-opening.

Saki grabbed her hand in excitement.

“Amazing! This could totally flip my image!”

“Hehe, I’m rooting for you. Oh, wanna exchange contacts? If you need yukata tips, hit me up.”

“Really!?”

“Totally.”

“Please!”

Fumbling with her phone, Saki added Sato Airi’s name to her sparse contacts.

It felt surreal. Airi wasn’t a neighbor or schoolmate. In a city of indifferent strangers, this connection made her heart soar.

Grinning, Saki glanced at Airi’s name again, something nagging at her.

“Wait, this name—”

“Saki-chaaan!”

“Hime-chan!”

Himeko returned, eyeing Airi curiously, circling her excitedly. Her movements stiffened.

“This is Sato-san.”

“Hi, I’m Sato.”

“…Huh.”

Himeko’s face froze, eyes wide in disbelief, staring at Airi rudely. Airi shrank uncomfortably.

Then Airi exclaimed, as if realizing something.

“Oh! Did you come with a cute, long-haired girl? She, uh, helped me before…”

“Haruki-san? Yeah, she’s here.”

“I-I, my senpai and I want to meet her, to thank her for helping us…”

“…Oh.”

Haruki had been the first to help when a drunk hassled them. It made sense Airi wanted to thank her.

Saki was about to agree when Himeko blurted, “W-Wait, Sato Ai—”

“““Kyaaa!”””

A deafening cheer shook the ground.

◇◇◇

Moments earlier, Haruki and Ema drifted through a dazzling sea of yukata, overwhelmed by the variety.

Choosing one felt like finding a bottled message in an ocean.

(Uniforms are so easy—no thinking needed.)

A self-mocking smile slipped out.

Since reuniting with Hayato and getting scolded by Himeko, Haruki paid more attention to her appearance. The reactions were nice.

But her fashion choices hinged on surprising or teasing Hayato.

Her everyday style, like today’s, was casual—safe, but bland.

She didn’t have a clear ideal self, unlike Saki. Maybe just being “good”?

Shaking her head, she imagined trying on yukata, picturing Hayato’s reactions. Each got a “Looks good,” a plausible response.

Her face mirrored Hayato’s when asked what he wanted for dinner and saying “Anything.”

(It’d be easier if he gave specific requests.)

Sighing, she glanced at Ema, intently browsing yukata.

Her focus was so intense it made Haruki hesitate to speak.

Watching, Haruki noticed Ema picking either chic, calm yukata or wildly flashy ones.

The chic ones suited Ema’s tall, mature frame.

The flashy ones—revealing shoulders or miniskirt-like—were bold, unlike her usual self.

Frowning curiously, Haruki caught Ema’s eye. Ema blushed, hesitating before speaking.

“Um, Iori seems to like this stuff.”

“Got it.”

“I wanna wear what he likes, but these are too bold, like cosplay. I’d stand out with everyone.”

“Haha, yeah.”

They shared a wry smile.

Ema wouldn’t normally consider such designs, but wanting to please Iori made her hesitate.

Muttering and groaning, Ema seemed almost enviable.

The word “cosplay” sparked an idea, and Haruki exclaimed, “Oh!”

“Why not wear the flashy one just for Iori at home?”

“Wha!?”

“If you’re worried about standing out, do it privately. Look.”

Haruki showed her phone—a cosplay photo from a sleepover at Hayato’s. She, Saki, and Himeko were in costumes, with Hayato in cat ears. Ema burst out laughing.

They weren’t outfits for public, but they’d had a blast.

Grinning, Haruki pressed, “See?”

“…Yeah, but…”

“But?”

Ema’s eyes widened, then she faltered, blushing and mumbling vowels.

Haruki, confused, wondered if she’d said something odd. Ema spoke hesitantly.

“These designs… they’re kinda revealing… sexy, right?”

“Oh, yeah, guys’d like that.”

“If Iori gets excited and things turn… that way, what do I do?”

“Uh, um… Mya!?”

Haruki’s face flushed red. She hadn’t considered that, but for Ema, dating Iori, it was a real concern.

They were building their relationship slowly, but the vibe could lead there. It was a matter of when, not if.

Ema muttered about seeming forward or preparing mentally and practically, overheating Haruki’s brain.

To avoid melting, Haruki cut in.

“S-so, it’s an option! Right!?”

“Y-yeah! I’ll add it to the list!”

“Pfft!”

“Haha!”

Relieved, Ema jumped on the topic shift.

“Hey, Haruki-chan, not picking a yukata?”

“Ugh, I’ve been looking, but nothing clicks.”

“Too many choices, huh?”

“That, and I’ve never cared much about clothes. I don’t even know my own style…”

“Hmm… What about something Kirishima-kun might like?”

“Ugh…”

She’d thought about it.

Despite her varied looks, she’d only surprised or teased Hayato, not figured out his tastes.

Haruki gave a vague smile, shaking her head.

They shared a troubled look.

Ema, thinking, suggested, “What about going back to basics?”

“Basics?”

“Like when you were kids, first going to a festival. What’d you pick then?”

“…Oh.”

Something clicked.

She imagined being back in Tsukinoe as a kid, picking a yukata for a festival.

Trying on yukata now, her younger self—Haruki—critiqued each one. A giggle escaped.

“Thanks, Ema-chan. I might figure it out.”

“Hehe, you’re welcome.”

“Alright, let’s pick with gusto! …Hm?”

“Time to—huh?”

Turning to the yukata, they noticed the crowd’s buzz, directed at them.

They were drawing attention. Despite their looks, they were just high schoolers—no reason for this much focus.

It felt eerie. Exchanging a nod with Ema, they moved to leave.

But a hand grabbed Haruki’s shoulder.

“Yo!”

“!?” “Huh!?”

A overly familiar voice. Turning, their faces froze.

A suspicious girl stood there—same age or older, hair stuffed in a cap, wearing toy glasses with a fake mustache. Yet her off-shoulder top and hot pants revealed a perfectly proportioned figure, making her disguise absurdly conspicuous.

No wonder she drew eyes.

Haruki didn’t know her.

“Ema-chan, friend of yours?”

Ema shook her head vigorously.

But the girl’s grip was firm, impossible to ignore.

Haruki sighed and asked cautiously, “Uh, first time meeting, right?”

“Yup.”

“So, uh, what’s up?”

“I’m lost.”

“Lost?”

“Happens sometimes. Trouble.”

Her troubled tone made sense, but sometimes or often? Haruki wanted to quip but held back.

“Did you get separated? With someone?”

“Hm, Mama.”

“…Mama?”

“But she’s younger.”

“Younger!?”

“Yup, naggy but reliable.”

“Act like a senior!”

“Oh, and Papa’s here too.”

“Papa’s younger too?”

“Nah, way older. Hits on girls for work.”

“Your phrasing! That could mean shop staff here too!”

“Oh, true!”

She clapped, delighted.

Haruki, shouting retorts, blushed, realizing her volume. Clearing her throat, she said, “Anyway, call your Papa or Mama to meet up.”

“Genius!”

“That’s obvious!”

“I was focused on finding someone else—hello?”

She called someone, unfazed. Haruki rubbed her temples, and Ema gave a tired smile.

What a quirky, exhausting girl—yet oddly charming.

“Got Papa. Thanks!”

“No problem. Don’t get lost again.”

“No promises.”

“Hey!”

“Your retorts are like Mama’s.”

Leaning forward, she studied Haruki, nodding.

“Yup, you pass.”

“Huh?”

“I was looking for a cute, long-haired girl. You’re super cute and great at retorts.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“But are you the cute, long-haired girl I’m looking for?”

“No clue!”

“High points for that! Funny girl!”

“Not a compliment from you!”

She laughed, giving a thumbs-up.

Haruki felt déjà vu—she was disarming.

“If it’s you, I’d think—”

“Thanks—”

As she bowed, her cap and glasses fell, revealing her face.

Haruki and Ema gasped, as did the crowd, a stunned silence spreading like a void before a storm.

The girl stuck out her tongue, tapping her head.

Her carefree vibe sparked something in Haruki.

Before she could pinpoint it, a shrill cheer shattered her thoughts.

“““Kyaaa!”””

The deafening applause hit Haruki, making her wince and cover her ears. The girl flinched, surprised.

“MOMO!? No way, that’s MOMO, right!?”

“So cute, and those legs!”

“Cuter than in magazines!”

“Why’s she here!?”

“Some event? Her outfit was screaming for attention!”

MOMO—a top model Haruki knew from fashion magazines.

Her stunning face, tall frame, and perfect proportions explained her fame.

Her sudden appearance stirred confusion and excitement. Ema buzzed, “MOMO!? What’s happening!?”

MOMO, flustered, exhaled sharply. Her aura shifted instantly. Raising one hand to her mouth, she shouted, “Thanks for coming to our bargain sale, everyone!”

Her drawling yet resonant voice cut through the noise.

A brief silence, then roaring cheers.

She’d seized the moment.

Turning to Haruki, she leaned in close.

“You here for a yukata?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Saw our ad?”

“Yup, we’re shopping for the festival.”

“Sweet!”

It felt like a fan-service interview.

Her closeness would’ve floored fans—Ema was thrilled—but Haruki noticed her nervous, darting eyes.

Sighing, Haruki gave a deadpan look. MOMO grinned sheepishly and whispered, “What now?”

“You didn’t plan anything?”

“I was disguised! Didn’t expect to get caught!”

“That was a costume, not a disguise!”

“…Oh!”

“Not ‘oh’!”

MOMO giggled. Haruki sighed, exasperated.

A loud voice called, “MOMO-san, we’re ready!”

Ready? Haruki and MOMO tilted their heads, looking toward the voice. MOMO exclaimed, “Oh!”

“Coming!”

She waved, her face relaxing—probably a staff member.

Relieved the situation was handled, Haruki’s hand was grabbed.

“You’re fun!”

“Huh?”

“Come on!”

“Wait, hold on!”

MOMO dragged her, ignoring protests, humming as curious eyes followed.

Fearing attention, Haruki considered breaking free but hesitated. They reached a cleared space, clearly set up on the fly, where a man caught her eye, blanking her mind.

“Yo, Sakurajima-san. Thanks! Setting this up out of nowhere? Impressive.”

“It’s a ‘surprise event.’ I leaned on the staff—better for publicity than chaos.”

“Nice, Papa. Sly.”

“…Papa?”

“What do we do? No emcee, can’t just talk.”

“Fan karaoke. A nervous or bad first singer could tank it, but she’ll do fine.”

“!?”

The man—Sakurajima, from Airi’s hospital event—smiled at Haruki, snapping her back.

MOMO handed her a mic, which she took reflexively.

“Can you sing Kapitan?”

“Uh, yeah, kinda…”

“Cool, let’s do it!”

Grinning, MOMO pulled her to the stage center, shouting, “Where’re you going in your new yukata? With someone special? Let’s sing to cheer you on!”

As she finished, a popular idol song started, the crowd’s energy surging.

Haruki realized she’d been roped in too late to back out.

Gripping the mic, she steeled herself.

““Laugh without answering~♪””

Their singing sparked wild cheers—a strong start.

On stage, Haruki saw the crowd’s size, some filming, showing MOMO’s star power.

Despite being used to attention, this was overwhelming.

Her bold performance came from past pretenses.

Singing with MOMO felt surreal.

Wearing a practiced smile, she glared at Sakurajima, who’d orchestrated this.

He brushed it off with a grin, making her cheek twitch.

““A thousand nights’ dream~♪””

MOMO sang with karaoke-level enthusiasm, her charm captivating the crowd despite average vocals.

No ad-lib talk, so fan karaoke—smart move. Sakurajima was sharp.

That heightened Haruki’s wariness.

He’d likely factored her into this.

He’d once muttered Takura Mao—Haruki’s mother.

He probably knew their connection, explaining too much.

Their exact tie was unclear, but he knew something.

She was curious but irked at being played.

He likely aimed to spotlight her for entertainment industry leverage, using her link to Takura Mao.

““Angel’s temptation~♪””

She considered bombing to look foolish.

But ruining the hyped crowd felt wrong, and unfair to MOMO, who was uninvolved.

Letting herself be outdone grated too.

What would Hayato or Saki think if she sabotaged this? Could she face them proudly?

So, Haruki played support, lowering her key to highlight MOMO, adjusting choreography to keep MOMO center stage.

A sidekick, a shadow, behind the scenes.

She played it perfectly, calculated.

““Time traveler~♪””

The song ended, met with roaring cheers, all for MOMO.

Glancing at Sakurajima, Haruki saw his shocked eyes—her plan worked. Smirking, she bowed to MOMO, feigning nervousness.

“Thanks! Singing with MOMO-san was amazing!”

“Jealous!” “Me next!” the crowd called.

Time to leave.

Raising her flushed face, she turned—

“Wait!”

“Huh?”

“You’re incredible! That was so easy!”

MOMO grabbed her hand, staring intensely.

“I said you passed, but you’re beyond pass! Wanna work together? Right, Sakurajima-san?”

“W-Wait, what!?”

MOMO looked to Sakurajima, who grinned, making a circle with his hands.

The crowd buzzed—“Scouted!?” “She’s different!” “Kinda works?”

Cold sweat ran down Haruki’s spine.

It felt like a trap closing in.

Was this all Sakurajima’s plan?

Her mother’s face flashed, her hand trembling.

“What’re you saying, Momocchi-senpai!”

A girl’s loud voice cut through, drawing all eyes.

She stepped forward boldly, theatrically removing her hat and glasses, sparking louder cheers.

“Yo, Airin-Mama!”

“Not ‘yo’! And Mama? I’m younger!”

“Airin’s so stiff.”

“Not stiff!”

Sato Airi, a model rivaling MOMO.

Attention shifted to her.

“Forget Mama—Momocchi-senpai always pulls stuff like this! Look, you freaked her out!”

“It’s fine, right?”

“No, it’s not!”

“Not not fine?”

“Not not not fine!”

“Not not not not fine?”

“Not not not n—ugh!”

“Airin tripped up!”

“Argh!”

Their comedic banter drew laughs, framing MOMO’s offer as a stunt.

“Haruki!”

A sharp call snapped Haruki back.

Near Airi were Hayato and the others, beckoning her.

Pasting on her smile, she said, “Thanks!”

“Thanks for helping!”

“Let’s do this again!”

“Stop it, Momocchi-senpai!”

“Airin’s mean!”

“Not mean!”

Amid laughter, Haruki left the stage.

Airi winked, as if apologizing.

The group’s reactions varied.

“Tough break, Haruki.”

“You okay!? Your singing was awesome!”

“MOMO and Airi! They’re friends IRL too!”

“Sato Airi… Wait, that Sato Airi!?”

Hayato shrugged with a wry smile, Kazuki nodded, Ema fretted excitedly, Himeko gushed, and Saki looked confused.

Total chaos.

But it felt like home, easing her tension.

“…Kinda tired.”

Sighing, her hand was grabbed.

“Yeah, me too. Let’s find somewhere to chill.”

“!? Hayato…?”

His serious face startled her, but a glance showed Sakurajima approaching. Her heart raced differently.

“…I’m beat too. Iori-kun?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m thirsty. Ema?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Himeko-chan, Saki-chan—”

Kazuki, noticing, urged everyone to move.

Always so perceptive, annoyingly so.

“…Thanks.”

Haruki muttered to no one in particular.

The rooftop garden by the exhibition hall was quiet.

Occasional cheers from the hall carried over, hinting at the models’ fame. A spontaneous event meant Sakurajima likely wouldn’t follow.

Haruki toyed with a tea bottle, scanning the area.

Surrounded by tall buildings, it felt like a hole in the sky, green and reminiscent of Tsukinoe.

But the vibe was restless, unlike the countryside’s calm.

Ema spoke, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“Uh, what just happened…?”

They exchanged wary glances.

Haruki herself didn’t fully grasp it.

Hayato only gave a troubled look.

An awkward silence lingered.

Kazuki sighed loudly, raising his hands as if giving up, and faced Haruki.

“Sorry, Nikaido-san. And everyone.”

“…Huh?”

“It’s probably Sakurajima-san’s fault you got dragged into that. The tall staff guy with MOMO. He’s skilled but pushy…”

“Huh…”

His sudden apology confused her, especially since she’d thought Sakurajima was tied to her and Takura Mao.

But Kazuki seemed to know him.

Meeting Hayato and Saki’s eyes, they tilted their heads too.

Iori spoke for the group.

“Uh, Kazuki, who’s Sakurajima? You know him?”

“He’s a producer at an agency—scouts models, actors, idols. He’s got a nose for talent, found MOMO and Airi, shaped their personas and media presence. His skills made them stars this year.”

It matched his behavior at the hospital.

Haruki’s frown deepened.

“Wow, you know a lot, Kazuki. Sounds personal.”

“Uh, yeah, kinda…”

“Wait, if Haru-chan caught that guy’s eye—”

Himeko gasped but stopped, realizing something.

Hayato picked up.

“Okay, he’s a big shot. But why’s Kazuki apologizing?”

“Well—”

Kazuki paused, taking a deep breath, scanning their faces, then dropped a bombshell.

“I’ve been hiding something. MOMO’s real name is Kaido Momoka.”

“Kaido Momoka…?”

“She’s my older sister.”

“““““!?”””””

The revelation blanked their minds, leaving them speechless.