Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 4 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – The Cold War Commences

1 

His hopes were dashed immediately the next morning. The situation remained unchanged. Such a shame. 

Actually, it felt like the situation was deteriorating. This was upsetting. Each passing day seemed to just make things worse. Mai and Nodoka both seemed to be accepting the fallout from their big fight and living life accordingly. 

Before he knew it, ten days had passed. 

Since they were in each other’s bodies, they were forced to exchange a certain amount of information, but neither said anything beyond what was absolutely necessary, nor did they have any other contact. 

Straightforward, professional communication. And they refused to even hold these meetings on their own. They only met at Sakuta’s place, and only with him present. 

“Anything to report?” 

“Not really.” 

“Anything from you, Mai?” 

“Not really.” 

“You tell a kid they have to keep a diary for homework, and they’ll still write more than either of you.” 

“……” 

“……” 

Sakuta’s attempts to lighten the mood were all met with the whistling wind of silence. 

This meant that Mai was still saying at Sakuta’s place. And doing so as Nodoka Toyohama. 

Since the day they’d said they hated each other, each of them was dragging those emotions around, letting them just lie there. 

A wall of ice had appeared between them and it showed no signs of thawing. If anything, it felt like it was getting bigger and thicker by the day. Mai and Nodoka were doing their level best to counter the effects of global warming. 

Sakuta didn’t think what they’d said had come from a momentary rush of emotion. Not for Mai and not for Nodoka. That hadn’t been impulsive, and it hadn’t just slipped out. 

They’d both said those things intentionally, fully aware that their words would hurt the other. 

Neither one of them was going to readily accept an apology. They’d said those things knowing it could cause a permanent rift. 

But even so, Sakuta was beginning to find their attitudes unsettling. Their actions had one thing in common. 

Mai changed into the girls’ school uniform every morning, and after school, she headed to the studio as part of the regular activities of the Sweet Bullet idol group. When she didn’t have lessons, she either worked on the choreography while watching videos of the dance routines or practiced singing alone in a karaoke box. 

Nodoka’s routine was similar. She went with Sakuta to school and spoke to no one all day long, perfectly imitating Mai. Doing her part to be the famous actress Mai Sakurajima. Rehearsing Mai’s faces on the train home. She had to film a sports drink commercial tomorrow. 

She was practicing a natural smile. 

The scene involved an awkward encounter on a train station platform with a friend after an argument. Unable to keep their anger, they both start laughing. It required a delicate performance. 

The expressions Nodoka was rehearsing looked a lot like Mai’s. But the fact that they looked “like Mai’s” meant there was still a trace of stiffness to them. Something just a bit phony. And that was something he’d never felt from Mai’s performances. 

“Well?” Nodoka asked seriously, letting the smile fade. 

“I think you’re better off asking Mai that.” 

“Not what I want to hear.” 

“Why are you asking an amateur anyway?” 

“Fine, be that way.” 

She turned away, frustrated. But not long after, she was practicing faces again. She’d been like this for two or three days now. It had been constant trial and error, making every moment count, trying to do the best she could. Nodoka herself must’ve been aware it wasn’t the same as the real Mai. And that was gnawing at her and driving her to practice harder. 

As he watched her desperate rehearsal, the train reached Fujisawa Station. End of the line. 

“I’ve got work today,” he said as they exited. 

“You said that this morning.” 

“Go straight home, no detours.” 

“I’m filming tomorrow! I don’t have time for detours.” 

They split up just outside the gates. He watched Nodoka head off toward home. Once she got back, he was sure she’d continue practicing for the commercial. Becoming the person she hated. 

Once she was completely out of sight, he muttered, “I don’t get women…” 

Sakuta reached the family restaurant he worked at ten minutes before his shift started. 

“Good morning!” he said, greeting the manager. He headed to the break room to change. It was already occupied. By a smallish girl with a very modern short haircut who was sitting on a stool. His junior from Minegahara High, Tomoe Koga. 

She was already in her waitress uniform. She had a fashion magazine spread out on the break-room table and was intently studying the latest trends. 

The headline at the top of the page said, “Must-Haves for Autumn Girl Power!” 

“Morning,” he said over her shoulder. 

“Oh, senpai. Mornin’.” 

“Do you actually need more girl power?” 

“Who said you could look?” 

She leaned forward, trying to hide the article with her body. He didn’t think it was anything to be embarrassed about, but… 

“What is your current girl-power rating?” he asked. 

He ducked behind the lockers at the back of the break room. This was where the men had to change. 

“…Like, five?” 

That seemed low. 

“Nah, you’ve gotta be at least 530,000.” 

“No way! I’m not Sakurajima. She’s so cute on this cover!” 

“Mm? She’s on it?” 

He was only half-changed, but he came out to look anyway. Mai was a magic word for him. 

“Eep! Senpai, clothes!” 

Tomoe turned red and held the magazine up to block her face. Mai was on the cover. She was wearing a fall coat. It made her look all grown-up, but she also sported a mischievous smile. A flawless expression. 

“Get dressed, seriously! I’m calling the cops!” 

Tomoe took out her phone as she made the threat. 

“But I’ve got a shirt on.” 

“It’s the lack of pants that’s a problem!” 

“I’ve got boxers on, too.” 

“If you didn’t, I’d have called 110 already!” 

Figuring he shouldn’t push his luck any further, he went back into the changing space. He put on the uniform trousers and his apron, then emerged once more. 

Tomoe had her cheeks puffed up and was refusing to meet his eye. Fuming. 

He sat down across from her and glanced at the magazine again. 

Yep, once again, Mai’s expression was lovely. Something about it was fundamentally more natural than Nodoka’s Mai act ever was. 

He flipped through the pages. Mai was in several other photos at the front. In a white knit cap, an elegant skirt, and a casual hoodie. 

Some pictures had her with other models, including Millia Kamiita—the model Mai had said was a friend. They were posed to look like they were enjoying tea on an open terrace. 

“You can’t have it,” Tomoe said, snatching it out of his hands. “I’m still not done. This is important research!” 

“That’s okay. I can just see the real one.” 

But when would he see the real Mai again? The forecast seemed dim. Downright dark. 

Worrying about that, he punched his time card. And Tomoe’s. 

“Senpai.” 

“Mm?” 

He looked over his shoulder and found her looking grossed out. 

“That was a really creepy line,” Tomoe said. 

Sakuta reached out to mess up her hair, but she saw it coming and dodged backward, grinning triumphantly. 

He’d have to get her back later. 

By four that afternoon, the restaurant had settled down. It was too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. The only business they had was people taking a late tea. 

Even with half the seats full, most customers were only ordering the drink bar and dessert. At most, a light meal. The servers and the kitchen were easily handling the work. 

Things would really get crazy around six as they hit the dinner rush. 

Since Tomoe was working hard, Sakuta was mostly delivering food to tables and working the register. 

He’d just finished ringing up another couple when the bell on the front door rang. 

“Senpai, can you take them?” Tomoe asked, arms laden with dirty dishes. 

“If my cute kohai requests it, I don’t have much choice, do I?” 

“Handling customers is your job, too!” she scolded, apparently well aware he’d been slacking off on that front today. 

“So you finally admit you’re cute?” 

“I’m just sick of correcting you.” 

She rolled her eyes and vanished into the back. 

With no one left to tease, Sakuta headed back to the register to seat the new arrivals. 

“Welcome,” he said. 

“One,” said the girl at the door. The clean-cut sailor uniform from the fancy girls’ school clashed with her flashy blond hairdo. 

“This way,” he said. Then, under his breath: “What brings you here, Mai?” 

He led her to a seat, and Mai—in Nodoka’s body—sat down. 

“Thought I’d grab a bite to eat before singing practice. Was feeling peckish.” 

“I see.” 

She didn’t have lessons today, and on days like that, Mai usually went to a karaoke box to practice her songs. Only an hour or two a day. She was careful of the strain on her voice. Once she got home, she would often practice her dance routines in Sakuta’s room. 

Mai wasn’t desperately throwing herself into this task to get her mind off things. She was just diligently putting in the time required. 

That didn’t mean she was slacking off, either. She dutifully underwent the tedious, repetitive rehearsals without complaint. A very stoic approach to work. 

Mai seemed to be well aware that the most reliable way to getting better was to take one step at a time. That this was the fastest route to success. She didn’t panic or work too hard. She paid close attention to the physical toll it was taking on her. 

This was the total opposite of Nodoka, who was clearly straining herself. Mai remained flawlessly professional. 

Mai flipped the pages of the menu, then put it down. She reached for her bag and took a phone out of the pocket. 

This was Nodoka’s. To become each other, they’d had to swap phones. 

Mai glanced over the message on the screen. 

“Her mother again?” Sakuta asked. 

Mai glanced up at him. “Yeah. Fifty so far today.” 

All from Nodoka’s mother. 

Considering her daughter had run away from home, it made sense she’d try to get in touch. She must’ve been worried. 

But from what Mai had told him about these texts, her methods were a bit screwy. He hadn’t actually seen them himself—Mai was protecting Nodoka’s privacy—but they were less about “Come home soon!” than “Are you at your singing lesson?” or “Did you rehearse your choreography today?” or “Try to get yourself in the center for the new number.” Nearly all of them were about her work as an idol. 

Based on Mai’s confused look, this was another of those. 

“I’ll have this,” Mai said as she put the phone away and pointed to the top of the pasta page. 

“Spaghetti in tomato sauce,” he said, punching it into his order pad. According to the work manual, he should’ve given her a polite bow and then been on his way. 

Instead, Sakuta pretended he was still taking her order. 

“She was practicing your faces again today, prepping for the commercial shoot tomorrow.” 

They both knew who he meant. 

“Why bring that up now?” Mai said with a frown. 

“I figured that was what really brought you here.” 

“I just wanted to see my boyfriend again,” she said with the utmost aplomb. 

“Wow, I’m so excited,” he deadpanned. 

It would’ve been genuinely exciting if her claim was even remotely true. But if it were, Mai would absolutely not say so aloud. Which meant the thing she wasn’t saying now was the “truth.” 

“Can’t you just be happy?” she retorted, annoyed. 

She clearly wasn’t being honest. He knew full well she was here about Nodoka. But because of their big fight, she couldn’t check up on her in person. Which was exactly why Sakuta had brought it up…only for her to react like this. 

Of course, if Sakuta had said nothing, she would have driven her heel into his foot on the grounds that he knew exactly why she’d come and was just playing dumb. That much was obvious. 

So what option did he have left? All choices being wrong choices was hardly acceptable. She was being entirely unfair. It was making him fall for her even harder. 

“Wipe that smirk off your face.” 

“I was thinking about you, Mai. Couldn’t help it.” 

“Well, fine.” 

“If you’ve got advice, I’m all ears.” 

“Did Nodoka say she wanted any?” 

“No.” 

“Then I’ve got nothing to say.” 

“But you are worried.” 

“It’s my body and my job. Of course I’m worried.” 

This, she definitely meant. It would be weirder not to worry about leaving your body in someone else’s control. 

“Fair enough.” 

“Now quit slacking and get back to work.” 

“You sure you shouldn’t just talk to her?” 

“Sakuta. Drop it.” 

But her eyes fled his gaze. This wasn’t like her. 

“She’ll be fine,” Mai said, staring straight ahead. “If she remembers what they taught her in the theater troupe, she can do it.” 

“You make it sound like she’s forgotten it.” 

Mai didn’t answer. 

“Senpai! Register!” Tomoe called. 

“Your cute kohai’s calling.” 

She picked that phrase deliberately. This was the face she made when she was enjoying putting him on the spot. He figured she would ignore any further discussion of Nodoka. 

And he was on the clock, so the job took priority. He left Mai at her table and worked the register. 

A stream of customers arrived, keeping him busy for a while. By the time things settled down, Mai had already gone home, so there was nothing more he could do. 

“If Mai says she’ll be fine…maybe she will be.” 

But the uneasy feeling in his chest didn’t go away. 

2 

September 12 was as bright and sunny as Sakuta’s heart was gloomy. The morning sky was a clear blue, and the sun peeked over the horizon without a single cloud in the way. 

The windows of that morning’s first train afforded a beautiful view of the sunlight glittering atop the ocean water like glittering jewels. 

“Hwaah.” 

Squinting at how bright it was, Sakuta yawned. 

It was far too early. 

He’d woken up at 5 and left the house in his school uniform only twenty-five minutes later, at 5:25 AM. After a ten-minute walk, he’d boarded the 5:36 AM train. The first car that rolled out of the Enoden Fujisawa Station. 

Now it was maybe 5:50. They’d just left the sixth stop, Koshigoe. 

Unsurprisingly, there were no other Minegahara students this early. Only a handful of people on the train at all. The only passengers were young men in suits who looked like they’d just started working at their respective companies that year. 

“Hwaaaah.” 

Sakuta yawned again, and the train stopped at Kamakura High School Station. He slowly got to his feet. 

Sakuta’s school was at the next stop, Shichirigahama Station, but he wasn’t up this early to go there. 

Rubbing sleep from the corners of his eyes, he stepped out onto the platform. 

There was already a lot of activity. This was a tiny station and, outside of school hours, usually deserted—not even station attendants were around for the most part. But today, the place was busy. 

Men carrying around giant cameras, people carrying white boards—reflectors, to bounce the light. 

There was a woman with short hair carrying a long pole with a microphone on the end. She brushed past Sakuta with a quick apology. 

All these people were working on the commercial shoot. 

He watched for a minute, but then a young female crew member came over to him. “Sorry, please use the gate over there,” she said. “We’re about to film.” 

She led him out of the station, polite and professional even with a high school kid. 

There was no sign of “Mai Sakurajima.” 

But he had a pretty good idea where she was. There was a white microbus parked right outside the station. The windows were frosted and he couldn’t see inside, but “Mai Sakurajima” was probably getting ready for the shoot. Changing into her costume, getting her makeup done, or having any last-minute discussions that might’ve come up. 

Sakuta headed over the railroad crossing and down to the Route 134 sidewalk. The road followed the coast, and the tracks ran parallel to it, so from here, he could look up at the platform like a stage. 

This early, no crowds had gathered. Sakuta was the only one here. 

Mai had told him last night that they often worked at off-hours like this. Even the photos in Tomoe’s fashion magazine—the ones at the fancy café—had been taken at six AM. They just made it look like the middle of the day with lighting. 

“I’m definitely not cut out for show business.” 

Even now, if Mai hadn’t forced him up and out of the house, he would never have made it. 

Then a crew member called out, “Mai Sakurajima on set!” 

The door to the microbus opened, and “Mai Sakurajima” stepped out. She was wearing a fairly normal-looking school uniform. A navy-blue blazer. She was probably supposed to be a high school student. Since it was a winter uniform, this commercial likely wouldn’t air until later this fall. 

Even this early it was on the warmer side, so the long sleeves must’ve been particularly uncomfortable. But she had to act like it was peak autumn and not give away how hot it was. A feat Sakuta could never accomplish. 

The crew all stopped working to applaud the arrival of “Mai Sakurajima.” It was a fairly subdued round of applause, mindful of the locals. 

“Mai Sakurajima” stepped forward, bowed, and said, “Looking forward to working with you.” 

Only Sakuta knew this was really Nodoka Toyohama. 

“Okay, let’s do a run-through before the train gets here.” 

The man in charge was maybe late thirties or early forties. He was wearing shorts and a short-sleeved jacket; a very youthful style, but there were definitely some gray hairs peeking out. Based on the crew’s response, he was unmistakably the director. 

“Places.” 

Nodoka bowed again and took her position on the station bench. The camera lens turned toward her. 

“We’ve got time before the next train?” the director asked. 

“Four minutes out.” 

“Okay, action.” 

At the signal, everything started moving. 

The whole vibe changed. The crew had been bustling around, but suddenly they were all dead silent, all focused on one thing—“Mai Sakurajima’s” performance. 

The tension made him gulp. It was like needles poking him all over. Sakuta got goose bumps on his arms, and he was only watching. 

As “Mai Sakurajima,” Nodoka’s task was to spot her friend approaching from the direction of the camera, hesitate, and then smile. All in a few moments. 

“Okay, cut.” 

A scant ten seconds had passed. It felt much longer. 

The director checked the footage on the monitor. 

A woman with a hip pouch came running up to Nodoka and adjusted her hair. Presumably, she was in charge of hair and makeup. Her hands were all over “Mai.” Sakuta was jealous. 

The director moved away from the monitor, came over to “Mai Sakurajima,” and started telling Nodoka something, gesticulating a bit. Nodoka nodded repeatedly. Even from this distance, though, Sakuta could tell she was tense. The makeup hid it well, but she was probably turning pale. 

She was undoubtedly doing her best to keep up appearances as “Mai Sakurajima” and managed a smile. Still, Sakuta found that smile painful to look at. 

The alarm bells started. An inbound train from Kamakura. 

“Train coming. Once it’s gone, we’ll start shooting.” 

The green-and-cream car stopped at the station, clearly not caring about the film crew. No one got on or off. It pulled out, the back of it slowly moving away. It was soon out of earshot. 

The wind had mussed “Mai’s” bangs, so the makeup artist quickly fixed them. Nodoka stared at the ground, taking several deep breaths. 

“Ready,” the makeup artist said, putting the last touch on her hair. She darted off set. 

The camera operator put the focus on “Mai Sakurajima.” The gaffer held the lights up, and a big man farther back raised the bounce board. The boom operator got the mic in place. 

Once again, all eyes concentrated on “Mai Sakurajima.” All these adults, intent on making one thing together. 

This time, it dawned on Sakuta what emotions were suffusing this moment. 

He’d thought it was tension at first. A nervous energy so intense that it had made him gulp. 

He’d felt it pricking his skin. 

But the true nature of this intensity? Everyone present, all the staff, the director, the camera operator, the makeup artist, the gaffer—everyone trusted “Mai Sakurajima.” 

She was the youngest one here, true, but she was one of them, a colleague they had faith in. 

Their attitudes proved they accepted “Mai” as a professional. And they were currently working hard to produce work worthy of her skills. 

“……” 

This should have been comforting. 

Being trusted, needed, enjoying working together—that would make anyone happy. 

But this display of confidence was clearly making Nodoka anxious, and just looking at her was making Sakuta squirm. He felt a knot growing in his stomach. 

“Take one…action!” the director called. 

Once again, tension filled the air. Nodoka looked up at last. She squinted. Light playing off the water must have hit her eyes and disoriented her. 

But that wasn’t all. 

Nodoka’s body swayed. She couldn’t keep herself upright and toppled over sideways. She tried to put a hand on the bench to catch herself but failed. Her full weight fell hard against the bench surface. 

“Cut!” the director yelled, seemingly concerned for his actor’s condition. 

The makeup artist rushed over. A woman in a suit right behind. “Mai? Mai?” she called. Maybe that was her manager. 

Sakuta hurried back across the railroad crossing, taking advantage of the confusion to get close to the station. He stood by the gates like a scarecrow, watching. 

Nodoka’s breathing was ragged as she gasped for air. Like she was trying to throw up but couldn’t. A worried-looking crew girl was rubbing her back. 

“Breathe slowly,” she said several times. Nodoka barely managed a nod. 

Five minutes passed, and her breathing settled down. However, after seeing the state that “Mai Sakurajima” was in, nobody suggested they try again. 

Nodoka was escorted back to the microbus by two crew girls. 

The rest of the staff just stood there, stunned. Like nobody could believe that had just happened. 

“Mai Sakurajima” did not emerge from the bus again. Sakuta waited around for another half hour, but eventually the bus drove away. 

He heard the crew saying she’d been taken to the hospital. Probably for the best, he thought. 

In the end, filming was canceled without getting a single shot. 

Once the microbus took Nodoka away, Sakuta headed back home. 

According to the station clock, it had only just turned seven. Too early to go to school. But he couldn’t think of anywhere to kill the time, either. 

He slipped past the crew as they packed up their equipment, and he hopped on a train back to Fujisawa. 

Fifteen minutes absently rocking on the train later, and he reached the end of the line. Then he walked back home. 

“Wish my hunches didn’t always turn out right,” he muttered. 

He hadn’t thought it would be this bad, though. 

“Sakuta,” a voice called as he was passing the park. 

Before he could turn around, he heard hurried footsteps coming over, then stopping beside him. A blond girl in a T-shirt, track pants, and running shoes. 

She normally wore her hair all to one side, but now it was tied in back, out of the way. 

She’d clearly been running for a while. She was dripping with sweat, the T-shirt plastered to her. He could clearly see the tank top beneath it. 

Mai was exercising like this every day. This wasn’t something she did as herself, but something she was doing as “Nodoka Toyohama,” maintaining the endurance required to get through her regular performances. 

He’d suggested she come watch the shoot with him, but she’d refused. “I need to go for my morning run.” And apparently that’s exactly what she did. 

“You’re back,” she said, like it was nothing. 

“Yep.” 

“What happened?” 

She meant Nodoka, of course. 

“You can’t tell from the look on my face?” 

“I can tell it didn’t go well, but…she did a few extra takes and got it done in the end, right?” 

Mai clearly had no doubt in her mind. The way she’d been acting last night, she had clearly assumed Nodoka would get through it somehow. 

“Nope, never got that far.” 

“What do you mean?” 

She looked up at him, her expression clouding over. The grim look on his face would do that. 

“She collapsed before they could do a single take.” 

“Huh?” 

She’d been completely unprepared for that. It was rare to see Mai this surprised. 

“What? Was she sick?” 

“Physically, I don’t think so.” 

“Then what?” 

“You really don’t get it?” 

“I wasn’t there, so how would I?” 

She put her hands on her hips. She’d been out of breath from the run but had almost recovered already. 

“I figured you’d know better than anyone.” 

“Know what?” 

“How intense the trust placed on ‘Mai Sakurajima’ is. How high the expectations.” 

“……” 

Mai still seemed confused. 

Maybe this was one of those things she’d never get no matter what he said. Those conditions were just her “everyday.” That was why the crew had been so shocked when “Mai Sakurajima” collapsed. Nobody had the slightest clue what had happened. It seemed unlikely any of them would ever figure it out. 

Sakuta only noticed because he was an outsider. What he felt was a given for all of them. The absolute faith the film crew placed in “Mai Sakurajima,” the overwhelming expectations. That was the way things were supposed to be, but since Nodoka was only pretending to be Mai, it was unbearable. 

“All of that really was like being trapped in a pressure cooker. I mean, I’m speculating, but…” 

“…I see.” 

She spoke like she understood, but it really didn’t seem like she did. None of this made sense to Mai. 

The rest of the way home, Mai said nothing. Sakuta didn’t say anything, either. It seemed like Mai was busy thinking. 

Back at home, Sakuta got breakfast ready. For him and Kaede. Mai said she’d already eaten, and she hit the shower to wash off her sweat. 

So it was just Sakuta and Kaede at the breakfast table. The menu for the day was toast, ham, and eggs. The latter two items were very specifically served separately, so the Oxford comma there is rather important. 

Sakuta took a bite of golden-brown toast. There was an appetizing crunch. He folded an egg up in a slice of ham and ate that too. Once he got that down, breakfast was over. 

Meanwhile, Kaede was waiting for the margarine to melt into her toast. She refused to have any until it was. 

She must have gotten it exactly the way she liked it, because a beautiful smile appeared on her face. 

“The crisp part and the soaked part acting in harmony!” 

“Nice.” 

If his sister was happy, so was he. 

As he enjoyed that small pleasure, there was a sound in the hall. Mai was done with her shower. A moment later, they heard the dryer running. When that noise ended, the flip-flop of her slippers announced her approach. 

“Thanks for the shower,” she said, poking her face into the living room. She was wearing shorts that left her thighs dazzlingly bare and a short-sleeved hoodie—definitely indoor clothes. 

“Quit staring at my legs!” she added when she caught him looking. She sounded just like Nodoka. “Morning, Kaede.” 

“Good morning, Nodoka!” Kaede said once she’d swallowed her toast. 

They’d decided it was better not to tell Kaede the truth, so Mai was living here as Nodoka. 

At first, Kaede had definitely been terrified of this new blond girl, but after feeding Nasuno together and talking about books they’d read, she’d let her guard down. Telling her Nodoka was Mai’s sister was likely also a big factor in how quickly they’d grown close. 

Kaede had literally said, “If you’re Mai’s sister, you must be nice!” Sakuta wasn’t sure that logic was sound, but he took it as a sign Kaede really did trust Mai, which made him happy. There was nothing better than having your family get along with your girlfriend. 

“I’m just gonna change,” Mai said and went back down the hall, vanishing into Sakuta’s room. 

“Breakfast was great!” Kaede said. She’d cleaned her plate. 

“Glad to hear it.” 

He took the empty dishes to the sink, then quickly washed and placed them on the drying rack. 

With that taken care of, Sakuta went to his room. He wanted to talk to Mai before she left. 

Figuring she was done changing by now, he didn’t think twice about turning the knob. It was his room to begin with. 

“Eep!” There was a stifled shriek as he opened the door. 

The blond in his room turned toward him, looking alarmed. She’d been fastening the hooks on her skirt. Tragically, this meant she was basically fully dressed. 

Yet Mai wordlessly grabbed a pillow and threw it as hard as she could. 

“Mmph!” 

Clean hit to the face. The door slammed shut. 

“Knock, dumbass!” 

That was a very Nodoka response. 

He did as he was told and knocked. 

“I meant in general!” 

He didn’t answer this one. Instead, he put the pillow under his arm and leaned against the door. 

“So, Mai…” 

“Before you change the subject, apologize and swear you’ll never do it again.” 

This response was more Mai’s style. 

“Sorry. I won’t do it again.” 

Her response was an exasperated sigh. 

“Well? What is it?” 

“Was wondering if you should hit up the hospital,” he said, getting right to the point. 

“From what you told me, the psychological pressure led to her hyperventilating, so she’ll be fine.” 

Hyperventilating. Sakuta knew the word. It meant something like breathing uncontrollably fast until it became unbearable. A symptom of extreme stress; he’d seen something about it on TV before. 

“Do you even know which hospital?” 

“You can find that out by asking her.” 

“What for?” 

“A moment of weakness can be the perfect chance to make up.” 

“How underhanded.” 

A harsh statement, but there was humor in her voice. Mai knew full well he didn’t mean that literally. Personally, he felt even if it was a bit underhanded, it was worth it if they really did manage to make up somehow. 

“You can come in.” 

She must’ve been done changing now. 

He opened the door and stepped in. 

“I’m starting to feel like this isn’t even my room anymore…” 

It had turned into Rio’s room over summer vacation, and now it was Mai’s. 

“Serves you right.” 

“Huh? How so?” 

“And who exactly keeps bringing girls home?” 

She shot him a gleeful smile. The one she always used when she knew she had him against the ropes. It was Nodoka’s face, but the way she carried herself was unmistakably Mai. 

But she didn’t pursue that point further. She put a mirror on the desk and started doing her makeup. Nodoka’s makeup. The elaborate cat-eye framing. 

Sakuta watched her for a while. Eventually, Mai broke the silence. 

“I do feel bad,” she said. 

“Mm?” 

“Coming here like this, making you a part of it.” 

“I don’t care about that.” 

“But?” 

“Living with you is so stimulating I’m not sure how much longer I can restrain myself.” 

“So you want me to hurry up and patch things over with Nodoka?” 

“I supposed that would be one solution.” 

“One solution? It’s your entire point.” 

“I mean, it’s true that this is getting in the way of our intimacy.” 

“Does stepping on you count?” 

Applying lipstick, she finished up and rose to face him. 

“Please,” he said. 

She gave him an exasperated sigh. Then she came over to him, reached up, and cupped his cheeks in her hands. She must have abandoned the foot stomp idea. 

“Mai…” 

“Not stimulating enough?” 

“Mild contact like this is just lighting my fuse.” 

“Your point being?” 

“I want to throw myself at you.” 

“Not even if I’m in my body.” 

“Then I want you to throw yourself at me.” 

“Quit eyeing your bed.” 

“Would you prefer the floor?” 

“I’ll allow you to imagine it.” 

He decided to take advantage of this offer. He pictured Mai in the bunny-girl outfit. It was great. 

“Oh, and take this,” Mai said, interrupting his fantasies by putting something in his hand. It was small enough to fit in his palm. Slightly cold to the touch, very hard—metal. 

He looked down and saw a silvery gleam. A key. 

“Is this…?” 

“The key to my place,” Mai said curtly. 

“You’re giving me a spare?” 

“No.” 

“The key to your heart?” 

This joke got his foot stomped. 

“Ow! Ow!” 

“I’m temporarily loaning it to you.” 

“Aww.” 

“Don’t you dare make a copy.” 

“……” 

“That was a suspicious silence.” 

“You put the idea in my head.” 

She gave him another exasperated sigh. Her foot was still on his. 

“You’ll get a spare key when I feel like you deserve one,” she muttered. 

She was definitely a bit embarrassed by this but refused to avert her eyes. 

“Will that be next week?” 

“Try, like, five years from now.” 

“Aww.” 

“Spare keys aren’t given out easily, horndog.” 

This time Mai did turn away. The embarrassed look on her stoic face was very cute, but if he said that, she’d go, “You mean Nodoka’s face?” and that would be a quagmire, so he kept this to himself. 

“You can have my spare any time.” 

“No thanks.” 

Instant rejection. How tragic. 

“Can we at least shoot for three years?” 

“Why are you asking like that’s a serious proposition?” 

“I want your spare key as soon as humanly possible.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll consider it. Depends on how things turn out.” 

“Good enough for me!” 

Sakuta even pumped his fist. But he felt he’d earned the right. Getting a spare key from your girlfriend was just that big a deal. 

“So do your part.” 

He didn’t need to ask what part. Mai had given him the key because she was worried about Nodoka. She was telling him to check in on her and take care of her if it was needed. 

“If you’re worried, you could just go yourself.” 

“……” 

“Of course, if you could do that, you wouldn’t need to give me a key.” 

“…I don’t know what to say to her,” Mai said. A rare glimpse of weakness. “Even I don’t know everything.” 

She gave him a sullen glare, like it was his fault for forcing this admission. She clearly resented having to spell it out. 

“Sounds like a good place to start.” 

“No way.” 

“Why not?” 

“……” 

She didn’t answer. But he had a pretty good idea. Considering their relationship… 

“I guess you do have your pride as the big sister to consider.” 

“Say another word, and I’ll get angry.” 

She was clearly already angry. She usually was when she said things like this. He threw his hands up, surrendering. 

“You’re getting a little too full of yourself, Sakuta.” 

Mai gave him an extra-hard poke in the forehead. It hurt, but this seemed to satisfy her, because she smiled again. Maybe she’d let off a little pent-up steam. 

“Ah, it’s already time. I’d better go.” 

Mai picked up her bag and left the room. 

Sakuta walked her to the door. 

As she put on her shoes, she said, “Oh, right,” and turned back to face him. 

“What?” 

“No matter what, don’t open the cupboards in the tatami room.” 

There was no tatami room in this apartment, so she must’ve meant the one in hers. 

“No matter what?” 

“Yes. No matter what.” 

“Got it.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna get going, then,” she said, snapping back into Nodoka mode. 

“Don’t get lost, now.” 

“Like I would!” 

She was a wonderful actress. Nothing about the interaction seemed at all unnatural. You couldn’t even tell she was acting. It was downright terrifying how all traces of Mai Sakurajima vanished when she was being Nodoka Toyohama. 

“And don’t you be late, either,” she said. 

And then she was gone. 

The door closed, leaving him behind. 

“No matter what?” he muttered again. The door did not respond. 

3 

Sakuta headed to school fifteen minutes after Mai left. He considered checking out her place first, but if Nodoka wasn’t back from the hospital yet, he didn’t really have a reason to be there. 

School was the same as it ever was. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody even knew they’d been filming a commercial one station down the line. Much less that it involved a student from their school—Mai. No one was talking about it. 

During breaks, friends gathered together, talking about this or that. Wishing for cute girlfriends, cool boyfriends, food, or anything interesting to happen. Same topics as the day before. 

As someone who never felt very comfortable in that kind of space, today Sakuta felt even more out of it. 

This must have shown on his face more than he thought. He was staring out the window during lunch when someone came over to him. 

“You look grumpy.” 

“If I look grumpy, I probably am.” 

He turned toward the voice. Yuuma Kunimi was sitting in the seat in front of him, leaning over the back of the chair, legs on either side of it. 

“Something go down?” 

“Uh, Kunimi,” Sakuta said, ignoring the question and deflecting Yuuma’s attention. The powerful glare from a nearby girl forced his hand. 

“Mm?” 

“It would be real helpful if you didn’t talk to me in this classroom.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because your adorable girlfriend looks ready to kill me.” 

Behind Yuuma, near the teacher’s podium, was a group of distinctly dazzling girls. And one of them was glaring daggers. 

Saki Kamisato. 

One of the social leaders of Sakuta’s class, and Yuuma’s girlfriend. 

“With her eyes alone?” Yuuma asked. He glanced back, and Saki’s expression changed instantly. All traces of hostility vanished. She met Yuuma’s gaze and gave him a cute little wave. 

“I don’t see it,” Yuuma said, turning back. 

Sakuta sighed and looked at the podium again. Saki was clearly pissed. 

“You’re just pretending to not notice, right?” 

“Am I?” 

Yuuma wasn’t taking the bait. But he totally knew. The way he’d turned and looked right at her proved he was well aware. 

“I think the way she’s so obvious is pretty cute.” 

“Don’t dote on her desire to murder me.” 

“So why are you grumpy?” 

“I’m not particularly grumpy. I’m just wondering how it feels to have an accomplished older sister.” 

“A what?” 

“I’ve never been stuck getting compared with one.” 

“Well…you’re a guy, so…” 

Sakuta wasn’t explaining the situation in a way that could be understood. But Yuuma seemed to have some thoughts on the matter anyway. 

“I’m an only child myself,” he said. 

“I know. I expect nothing from you here.” 

“Brutal,” Yuuma said, laughing out loud. 

Sakuta glanced toward the podium, and his eyes met Saki’s as she reacted to Yuuma’s laughter. She scowled at him. “Don’t you make my Yuuma laugh!” her look seemed to say. What a pain. 

“Maybe ask someone who’s got an accomplished sister?” Yuuma suggested. He turned toward the chalkboard and, of all things, beckoned Saki over. 

Saki glanced at the girls around her, but they urged her forward, and she came over to them. 

“Man,” Sakuta said, but before he could protest further… 

“I don’t like having my friends and girlfriend fighting,” Yuuma said. 

“What?” Saki asked, stopping next to Yuuma. 

“Sakuta’s got something to ask you.” 

Saki’s eyes bored through him. It wasn’t like Sakuta was pleased about this development, but it was a request from a friend. And Sakuta wouldn’t want his friends and girlfriend fighting, either. 

“Kamisato, you’ve got an older sister?” 

“I do…but how do you not know that?” 

“It’d be far weirder if I actually knew anything about your family.” 

Was it something that would show up on a web search? 

“She was a student here last year.” 

“Oh?” 

“And the student council president. You must have seen her before.” 

“…Not that I can recall.” 

He took a moment to think about it but came up empty. 

“Are you being serious right now?” 

This made it sound like she’d been a very conspicuous student. “You never disappoint,” Yuuma said in admiration. But if Sakuta couldn’t remember the girl, there wasn’t much he could do about it. 

“She didn’t come after me like you do, so I don’t know her.” 

Saki had made a much stronger impression. It would be basically impossible to ever forget her. He’d likely go the rest of his life without anyone else making the sort of demands she had. 

“Can I go now?” Saki asked, already getting fed up. 

“Hang in there a bit longer,” Yuuma said. 

Quite an exchange. Apparently, talking to Sakuta required serious effort. He was offended. There was only so much good will he owed Yuuma. 

“So if she was the president, I guess that makes her a high-achiever.” 

“She passed the exam for the best university in Japan on her first try,” Saki said, like talking about it bored her. She looked at Yuuma, clearly asking again if she could go. 

“Just a little longer,” he said. 

But this next question was probably the last one Sakuta would get. He decided to get straight to the point and ask what he really wanted to know. 

“Do you love your sister?” 

“Not especially,” Saki said, not looking at him. 

“So you hate her?” 

“Not especially.” 

The exact same answer. 

“Hmm. That clears it all up.” 

“Huh? How so?” 

“I’ve realized that it isn’t something simple enough to boil down to words like love or hate.” 

“……” 

You could say love, but it wasn’t like you wanted to be with ’em 24-7. You could say hate, but then they’d still be there when you got home. Since they were so close by and such a major part of your life, you saw all sides to them. Good or bad, you couldn’t miss it. And the emotions resulting from that level of contact couldn’t be summed up easily. There were too many different factors that bled into one another. Even if there was a single source…the huge range of emotions involved could get so tangled that you could easily forget what lay at the center of it all. 

“Not like I hate her or anything,” Saki said, to nobody in particular. “I just hate it when Mom is all, ‘Why can’t you study like your sister does?’ or ‘Why don’t you have your sister help you study?’ That’s all.” 

And with that, she went back to her friends, without a word to Yuuma. 

“Well? You get it now?” 

“It helped. Tell her I’m grateful.” 

“That’s not something you should ask others to handle.” 

“I hate it when you’re right.” 

“Whatever. The gulf between you two close at all?” 

“If it looks like it has, you should get your eyes examined.” 

“Figured.” 

Yuuma made a face. Not like it was a problem, more like this was the outcome he’d expected. 

“Even if we do ever get to a point where we’re not at each other’s throats, I don’t see us being friends,” Sakuta said, looking away. 

Rio’s face floated into his mind. If he asked her, she’d definitely say she didn’t mind. But he was sure it would bother her, deep down. 

“Yeah, that’s just who you are, Sakuta.” 

The bell rang. Lunch was over. 

“Later.” 

“Mm.” 

Yuuma got up to head back to his class. He stopped to say a quick word to Saki on the way out. 

In his wake, Saki gave Sakuta the nastiest glare she’d mustered yet. 

“Yeah, we’re definitely not gonna be friends.” 

4 

He slept through his afternoon classes. A natural consequence of waking up at five AM. 

After school, he went straight home. He was getting really worried about what happened to Nodoka after she collapsed. 

He found a familiar microbus parked outside her building. Same one from the location shoot that morning. 

He scoped it out in passing. There were people in the driver’s and passenger seats, both on their phones. 

As he looked, the glass doors to Mai’s building slid open, and a twentysomething woman in a suit came out. She spoke to the man in the driver’s seat, then opened the back door and climbed aboard. The bus drove off toward the main street. 

If they’d left, Nodoka must’ve been doing better. 

“I’ll find out once I get there.” 

He took the key out of his pocket. 

“…Can’t just go in without announcing myself, though.” 

He stopped outside the doors and put the key away. 

He punched her room number into the intercom and hit the call button. 

“…Yes?” 

He hadn’t been sure she’d answer, but she didn’t keep him waiting. It might’ve been Nodoka on the inside, but that was definitely Mai’s voice. 

“It’s Azusagawa.” 

“What do you want?” 

“Can I come up? I mean, even if you say no, I can just use the spare key Mai gave me.” 

“……” 

She hung up without another word. Then the door lock released, and the doors slipped open. 

He’d cleared the first barrier. 

He took the elevator straight to the ninth floor. Then headed all the way to the back, to the corner condo. 

He rang the bell outside the door. 

After a moment, the door opened. Just enough to poke her face out. Her eyes found Sakuta, then looked around for anyone else. 

“Just you?” 

“As you can see.” 

Nodoka let out a small sigh of relief. She opened the door the rest of the way and waved him in. 

He took his shoes off and followed her into the apartment. 

“Mai went to school in the morning. By now, she’s probably at practice for the mini concert Sunday at the Nagoya shopping mall.” 

“I didn’t ask.” 

“She’s wasn’t mad.” 

“I said, I didn’t ask.” 

“I talk to myself a lot.” 

“Ugh,” she groaned. 

Nodoka stopped in the living room, looking unsure what to do with herself. Like she hadn’t figured out how she fit into the space. 

Sakuta glanced around. 

“…What a mess,” he said, not mincing words. 

It had been spick-and-span the last time he was here, but she’d really done a number on the place. Uniform blazers and camisoles thrown in a heap on the back of the couch, black tights rolled up and dropped on the floor like a reef. The cleaning robot turned around, its path blocked. Sakuta shot a look of pity at its back. Not that you could tell which side was which. 

The fancy counter kitchen had been taken over by countless convenience store bags, forming a white plastic forest. There were no signs of any actual cooking being done. 

Based on the remains of convenience store lunches in the garbage, this was all Nodoka had eaten since her fight with Mai. 

“When she gave me the key, it wasn’t because she had predicted this, right…?” 

He wanted to think that wasn’t the case but honestly couldn’t be sure. 

“Right, laundry first.” 

He picked up the uniform blouses from the couch and started gathering the black tights from the floor. 

“H-hey, what are you doing?!” Nodoka yelped. 

He ignored her as he hauled an armful of clothes to the laundry room. 

He popped open the washing machine lid, tossed the blouses in, and got the water running. He sorted the camisoles, putting any sturdy enough in with the blouses. 

The tights were a bigger concern. Sakuta had never washed anything like them. They were all black, so he figured they had to be a separate load, if nothing else. And he suspected that if he didn’t use mesh laundry bags, they’d get all tangled up, which would be a disaster. 

He poked around the laundry room and found a small white basket in the corner. Inside was a mountain of treasure—underwear. White, pink, blue, and black—panties and bras in all sorts of colors. 

The mesh bags he was looking for were on the edge of this basket. He put the pale-colored panties in one and added it to the washing machine as it started churning. 

Now he just had to put a few items in each of the remaining bags and wait. 

“The rest will have to be handwashed, I guess?” he said, holding up a black bra by the shoulder straps. 

“Y-you can’t…!” Nodoka wailed, rushing into the laundry room and trying to snatch it out of his hands. He evaded the swipe and her hand caught only air. “Don’t dodge!” 

“I’m busy doing laundry here. Don’t interfere.” 

“Don’t touch my sister’s underwear with your pervy hands!” 

“Your fault for not doing the laundry yourself.” 

“I—I know! I’ll do it! I promise!” 

Nodoka desperately lunged at him, seemingly forgetting she was supposed to be depressed. This time she managed to snatch the bra away. 

She glared at Sakuta, her face bright red. Clearly electing to keep her word, she started filling the sink with warm water. 

“Given the quantity, the bath might be better.” 

“Sh-shut up! Don’t watch! Get out!” 

Despite her grumbling, she listened to his advice and opened the door to the bathroom behind her. 

Seemed like he could leave the rest to her. 

“When that’s done, we’ll run the other load,” he said and went back to the living room. His eyes came to rest on the mountain of convenience store bags. 

“You eat yet?” he called over his shoulder. 

“Nothing since this morning,” she said. 

“Then I’ll make you something.” 

First, he cleaned away the forest of bags, then he got the rice cooker started. 

An hour or so later, the laundry was finally done. Black tights were strung on the line by the windows like seaweed left out to dry. Nodoka had carried off the underwear to the bedroom. 

“Enter, and you die,” she’d said mere minutes ago. 

Sakuta had helped cleaned up and taken out the trash. They were now sitting across from each other at the dining room table. Considering the size of the room, the table was weirdly small. Mai must have purchased it on the assumption she’d be eating alone. It was a bit cramped for two. 

Laid out on the table were rice, miso soup, fried fish, and pickled nozawana. All stuff he’d found in the fridge. There was no indication Nodoka had ever cooked for herself, so this must’ve all been left over from Mai’s last shopping trip. 

“Isn’t it a bit late for breakfast?” 

“Dig in,” he said, ignoring her gripe. He started eating. 

“…Fine,” Nodoka said, reaching for the miso soup. 

She picked up the bowl and took a sip. 

“Th-that’s actually good.” 

“I had good stock.” 

On the counter was…well, it looked like a piece of dry wood, but it was actually a really nice katsuobushi from Makurazaki. The same thing Mai had brought him as a souvenir from a shoot in Kagoshima. She seemed to have gotten some for herself as well. 

“By the way,” he said. 

Nodoka was picking bones out of the fish with her chopsticks. She glanced up, her eyes asking, “What?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Huh?” 

“I mean, you hyperventilated, right?” 

“……” 

She looked aghast. 

“Eh? Didn’t you?” 

“No, I did, but you bring that up now?” 

“Sorry, was it too soon?” 

“Late!” she yelled, pointing her chopsticks in his direction. 

“That’s bad manners, you know.” 

“Your fault!” She grimaced but put them back down. 

“So are you okay?” 

“…They examined me at the hospital and said I was fine.” 

“Well, good.” 

“Not really…” 

Her chopsticks had been reaching toward her rice, but they stopped, hovering in place. Her eyes locked onto the table. 

“I…really screwed up.” 

Her hands were shaking. Her lips quivering. Tremors ran through her whole body like she was terrified. 

“That wasn’t her. At all. Sis would never screw up like that. That isn’t Mai Sakurajima.” 

“Mai gets sick sometimes, too.” 

She was only human. Nobody could be in peak condition every day. 

“You don’t get it! She’s not like us! She’s never off her game.” 

“……” 

“Even if she was running a fever so high she felt faint, Mai Sakurajima would wade into the freezing ocean in winter and perform flawlessly without ever showing it on her face! That’s who she is! But I got the shoot canceled and made trouble for everyone… I can’t do this.” 

Nodoka put her arms around herself, trying to stop the shaking. But the chill in her heart was not so easily thawed. 

“I’m done. I can’t. I want to quit. There’s no way I can ever handle that pressure.” 

“……” 

“I had no idea. I didn’t know what it meant to be Mai Sakurajima. I didn’t have the slightest clue.” 

“……” 

“She’s my sister, but I didn’t know anything about her.” 

There were tears in her voice now. And her heart. But none on her face. Her eyes stayed dry, like her body physically refused to cry. 

“People aren’t that easily understood,” Sakuta muttered, like he was talking to himself. He basically was. Nodoka was so busy letting her emotions fly, she wasn’t in any condition to hear a word he said. 

“I’ve always looked up to her. I wanted to be like her, but I wish I never had.” 

He felt like she was getting a little off track here. It was like she’d forgotten her starting position and which direction she was headed. 

But Sakuta thought that might be what she needed right now. 

Everything Nodoka was saying might’ve made perfect sense to her, and even if it didn’t, saying it aloud could still lead to greater understanding. Or at least calm her down. So it was good to get it all out there. Sakuta was fully capable of sitting and listening until she was done. 

“Back in kindergarten…,” Nodoka said, her voice barely a whisper. 

“Mm?” Sakuta said, sipping his soup. 

“There was this girl I was friends with. And she had an older sister…” 

“Oh.” 

“A really nice one, who always shared her treats. I was so jealous of her. When I got home, I said I wanted a big sister, too. I’m cringing just remembering it…” 

That must have been rough on her parents. Normally, you could just handle that by saying, “Well, you might be one yourself one day,” but in Nodoka’s case, she actually had an older sister—even if not in the way she’d imagined. 

“I think I said it so many times my father finally gave in and told me.” 

“About Mai?” 

“Yeah. She was already acting. He showed me her TV show and said, ‘That’s your sister.’” 

“Must have been a shock.” 

“It was. But I was really happy. I thought having a sister on TV was great. I wanted to meet her.” 

Her father must have thought hard on that one. He would’ve needed to get Mai’s mom on board first. And not just her. It wasn’t simply a matter of picking a day. So maybe he’d found a different route. 

“…Was that how you ended up in a theater troupe?” 

“You’re smarter than you look.” 

“I like surprising people.” 

“But you’re right. My father said I might be able to meet her one day if I joined a troupe and work hard.” 

“So you only met her at the auditions?” 

“I don’t think my father really thought I’d be good enough to get called in for those. But I really liked acting. I thought, ‘I’m doing the same thing my sister is!’ And just had fun with it.” 

And the adults noticed. It might not have landed her any parts, but she had something that set her apart. 

“When you finally met her, what was it like?” 

“She was so badass…” 

“You’d think you were talking about some guy you met.” 

“She just was, okay?” 

“Still is, I’ll admit.” 

Most people couldn’t focus on the task at hand when they had something on their mind. Normally, it wasn’t considered something that could simply be done. 

Mai was undoubtedly worried about Nodoka. That’s why she’d given Sakuta the key. Of course part of Mai wanted to go check in on her. 

But right now, she was Nodoka Toyohama, and she was prioritizing what that role required: going to school and throwing herself into idol work. In the long run, maintaining Nodoka’s life would be good for Nodoka, and Mai was fully aware of this. Plus, there was no way to know when she’d be back in her own body… 

And despite all that happening in the background, the way she didn’t let any of it distract was pretty badass. 

“Looking back now, I realize that my being there must have really rattled her.” 

“We don’t normally run into surprise little sisters.” 

And this one had a different mother. Her father had abandoned her and started a new family. But even though Mai was wrestling with that, Nodoka was simply excited to finally meet her sister, which must have only heightened that sense of bewilderment. 

“Regardless of what she was feeling inside, she treated me like her real sister.” 

“……” 

“She patted me on the head and said, ‘I always wanted a little sister!’” 

“What a disturbing kid.” 

It was a little too perfect. 

“I’m telling her you said that.” 

“Go ahead. As soon as you make up with her.” 

“…I can’t ever face her again.” 

“Because you screwed up on the job?” 

“Half that. But half…” 

She hesitated to say the rest aloud. 

“You both yelled ‘I hate you.’” 

“No she didn’t. I was the only one yelling.” 

“For someone who dyes her hair blond, you sure do sweat the small stuff.” 

“This is huge!” 

“Hate always is.” 

Feeling proud of that line, he stood up and poured leftover miso soup into his bowl. 

“Oh, can I get some, too?” Nodoka held out her bowl. He ladled some soup into it. 

When she took it back, she stared into the bowl for a long moment. The miso billowing through the broth like clouds. 

“Um,” Nodoka began. 

“Mm?” Sakuta took a loud sip of soup. Really good stock. 

“Did she…?” 

“Did she what?” 

“Say anything?” 

It was barely audible, but the room was just quiet enough for him to hear. 

“She didn’t seem worried.” 

“…Oh.” 

Hanging her head down, she cut a tragic figure. His words might have come as a shock. Probably because it seemed like Mai wasn’t even concerned about her. 

“Seriously, stop looking so gloomy with her face. It’s making me wanna give you a hug.” 

“Wha—What is your problem?! This is serious!” 

Nodoka jumped to her feet, beet red. 

“Girl, don’t stand up while you’re eating. And that’s not what I meant.” 

“Huh?” 

Instead of sitting back down, she just stared at him, frowning. Sakuta polished off his rice. 

“I meant she wasn’t worried about the commercial shoot.” 

“……What?” 

It took her a moment. She still didn’t quite seem to grasp what he was saying. Or maybe she just didn’t believe it. She gaped at him, a totally unguarded look Mai would never allow herself to make. 

“I don’t get it.” 

“Sure you do. It’s not exactly complicated.” 

“……” 

“She figured you’d blow a couple takes, but she never doubted you’d eventually get the director’s approval.” 

“…Really?” 

“If you don’t believe me, ask her.” 

“I can’t…” 

“Then take my word for it.” 

“I can’t do that, either.” 

“Man, you’re selfish.” 

“Sh-shut up! I mean, but…that means…” 

She might be arguing with him, but her expression was visibly brighter. 

“Why am I…? Oh no…” 

She put her hands on her cheeks, trying to stop the smile, but when she brought them down, it snapped back in place. Nodoka was too pleased to stop herself. 

“All you had to do was smile just like that.” 

“Huh?” 

“During the commercial. You kept forcing yourself to smile like Mai in rehearsals, but honestly, it just felt super fake.” 

This one was way more natural. It was Nodoka’s own smile, so of course it was. 

Then he remembered what Mai had told him the day before the shoot, in the restaurant. 

 “If she remembers what they taught her in the theater troupe, she can do it.” 

Maybe the reason Mai had been so sure she could do it was right here on Nodoka’s face. That felt like the right answer to Sakuta anyway. 

“I—I knew that without you telling me.” 

“You’re such a liar.” 

“Sh-shut up! Shut up, shut up!” 

She slapped her hands over both ears like a little kid, pretending she couldn’t hear him. But she was still beaming. Both her expression and voice had completely transformed. 

Maybe this was what Nodoka was really like. 

As he thought that, the phone on the table vibrated. This was Mai’s phone. The display said Ryouko. That was Mai’s manager’s name. 

Nodoka grabbed the phone and answered with “Hello?,” sounding a little nervous. 

“We’ve rescheduled?” she asked. Talking like Mai did. “Next week? Okay, Friday, same time… Yes, I’ll be fine. I’m really sorry about today. Yes, thank you.” 

She slowly lowered the phone and pressed the button to hang up. Her newfound confidence was gone already. 

“What now?!” she wailed, clutching her head. 

“You just said you’d be fine!” 

He’d seen her manager leave, and she hadn’t looked worried. 

“What else am I supposed to say, jackass?!” 

She was really taking this out on him. 

“Fair enough.” 

“Seriously, I’m so doomed.” 

Airing out her anxieties, Nodoka looked at the desktop calendar by the TV. It was the twelfth now, so next Friday was seven days away. She kept scanning that gap. 

Clearly, she was thinking about what she could do in the next week. For all her defeatist talk earlier, Nodoka was already preparing herself to meet the new shoot with everything she could muster. 

Sakuta felt like it would work out this time. He didn’t have a clear basis for that belief, but it wasn’t like every matter in the world was settled with confidence and a solid foundation. It wasn’t the most comforting thought, but most things in life are actually left unresolved, whether they just happen to work themselves out, get left alone because someone decided it’s “good enough,” or because time simply runs out. People often move on with their lives without ever obtaining certainty or closure. But despite that, Nodoka was trying to do whatever she could. What more could anyone ask? 

“Well, I’d better get home.” 

“Huh?” 

“I said, I’m going home.” 

“You have the worst timing. There’s seriously something wrong with you.” 

“Huh? How so?” 

“Why would you think it was okay to just ditch me and leave now?” 

“I don’t have any more advice to give.” 

This was simply a fact. 

“I know, but!” 

“You’ve got a week. Do what you can.” 

“I didn’t need you to tell me that!” 

“Then what? You’re just so depressed you want me to stick around?” 

“?!” 

This made Nodoka go bright red. Half anger, half shame. 

“G-go home! Go—get out of here!” 

She pointed furiously at the entrance. 

“I said I was… Quit pushing!” 

Her palms struck his back several times, and he was soon at the door. 

He put his shoes on and reached for the knob, but as he did, she said, “Oh, wait.” 

“Mm?” He turned back, hand on the knob. 

“Can you do something for me?” Nodoka asked hesitatingly. 

“Nope.” 

“……” 

She was visibly crestfallen. He really didn’t like seeing Mai’s body do this. 

“At least say ‘Please, I need your help’ while staring up at me.” 

“Will that work?” 

“If it was Mai.” 

“But if it’s me?” 

“Well, you look like Mai now, so I’ll take that into consideration.” 

“Ugh, so high-handed.” 

“What is it?” 

“Can you cook again?” 

She stared up at him, looking embarrassed. This wasn’t the way Mai would do it. Nodoka’s approach was much less mature. 

“You’re still hungry?” 

“Not right now, just…every day.” 

“Sorry, I’ve already pledged my heart to Mai.” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re the one who suddenly offered me a Showa-era proposal. I’m afraid I have to decline.” 

“I—I did not! Don’t decline—I mean, no! God, you’re a pain in the butt! I just want to make sure I’m taking good care of this body!” 

That had not been conveyed at all. But fair enough, the kind of food convenience stores offered didn’t exactly help maintain a balanced diet. 

“I can’t afford to put on any weight, and if I don’t eat right, it’ll affect my skin tone and complexion.” 

“I wouldn’t mind if you make her a little curvier.” 

“Stop leering at my sister, you animal! Anyway…please. I need your help.” 

She asked quite sincerely, though she was also sulking about it and she sounded a little peeved. Not nearly enough confidence, impishness, or sweetness—but demanding all that from Nodoka was a bit much. She wasn’t Mai, after all. 

“Well, cooking isn’t a big deal. Need me doing the laundry, too?” 

“I can do that.” 

“It’s not a big deal. You seem busy.” 

“If you touch her underwear again, I’ll gut you.” 

“Do tights count as underwear?” 

“Huh? That’s obvious.” 

“Ah, I see. They don’t, right?” 

“They do!” 

“Don’t get so worked up! You’ve already been to the hospital once today.” 

“This is your fault! Seriously, what is your problem? Argh, just go home!” 

She waved a hand, shooing him away. 

Who was it who’d been keeping him from leaving in the first place? If memory served, it was Nodoka. Sakuta had always intended to go. But if he said that, they’d end up going another round, so he elected to beat a quiet retreat. 

“See you tomorrow, then.” 

“Mm.” 

As he stepped out, Nodoka waved. The gesture seemed to come naturally to her, but she acted like it was a mistake and quickly lowered her hand. Then she snorted and closed the door behind him. 

“What a weird girl,” he muttered, walking away. He waited for the elevator and got on. Then remembered something. 

 “No matter what, don’t open the cupboards in the tatami room.” 

Mai’s words when she gave him the key. 

He’d been so busy cleaning and cooking, it had totally slipped his mind. 

“Well, I can look tomorrow.” 

No need to do today what could be done tomorrow. All he had to do were the things that had to be done today.