THE villainess in the Sports Day arc was nothing but a background character. Her presence was inconspicuous, her contributions marginal but sufficient to help her class cinch a victory. She doesn’t even antagonize Nonoka at all. That was why when Nonoka approached me after class, asking me if I wanted to split a parfait with her on the way home from school, it was all okay.
“Ms. Mio! Are you free after class today? I’d love to take you out for ice cream!”
No, are you kidding me?! Of course, this wasn’t okay! Not by a long shot! Why was Nonoka, the heroine, chasing after me, the anti-hero, like a puppy desperately in need of a friend?!
Yes, Nonoka was adorable and forthcoming. Yes, I would’ve loved to be her friend. But I couldn’t—not when it was between her or my precious baby sister.
“Excuse me?” I shot back coldly. “I’m busy.”
“Okay!” she replied cheerfully. “Then how about the on-campus café instead?”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“I am, which is why I suggested a less time-consuming alternative!”
Without even waiting for my reply, Nonoka zipped past me, clearly set on her destination.
Not following you. No matter what, I’m not following you…! I vowed silently when she bumped into an upperclassman-looking fellow.
“Hey there,” he cooed to Nonoka. “You a first year? What’s your name?”
Ew, talk about greasy.
“My name? Hiragi, why?”
“And your first name?”
“Oh, um, Nonoka. Sorry about that.”
Wow. The guy was about as subtle as a freight train, and Nonoka was utterly oblivious. Did she not have a suspicious bone in her body? Heaving a sigh, I approached them.
“Nonoka, huh? Cute name,” the boy expressed. “You a general student? Why don’t you let daddy here take you out on a little—”
“Hey, Casanova,” I called out.
He turned to me. “What? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of— M-M-M-Mio Sakurazaka?!” The color drained from his face.
Ah, this guy. He was on the “list of people to keep an eye out for” Shizuki provided, some bottom-tier Corporate playboy. “Ah, you know who I am. Then that should make this quick.” I smiled thinly. “Scram.”
“At once, ma’am!” And off he went, sprinting down the hallway at full speed. I didn’t bother watching him leave; my attention was fixed on Nonoka. “Really, Nonoka, are you a child? Handing out your full name to just anyone who asks. It’s a miracle you’ve survived this long.”
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She squirmed for a second. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Looking out for…? Why, I— Goodness, girl, just how self-conscious can one be?” I dismissively flicked a lock of hair into her face as I turned to leave, but was stopped abruptly by Nonoka tugging at the hem of my uniform. “Nonoka? What act of brazenness is this?”
“Um, the café’s that way,” she explained, pointing in the opposite direction.
“Are you daft? Like I said, I don’t have time for—” I heard a phone vibrate; realizing it was Nonoka’s, I gave her a look to say, you can take it.
“Sorry, just give me one minute,” Nonoka apologized before stepping away.
Well, wasn’t that the perfect out? I wasn’t obligated to give her one second, let alone a whole minute. Sniping her a final look as she talked to whoever was on the opposite end of that line, I turned to leave.
And leave I did. I left school and didn’t stop until I was at a certain photo studio. Apparently, my shoot from last time performed quite well, and they wanted me back for another. And no, I swear that wasn’t some personal side quest I was gallivanting off to but a task crucial to the tyrant effort. If you won’t take it from me, then take it from Shizuki, who ordered me here.
It was our way of making lemonade out of the lemons I had wrought. We’d make use of Nonoka’s attachment to me and use these photo shoots to drive her interest in fashion even higher. Today’s outfit: an off-the-shoulder blouse and tiered maxi skirt over thigh-highs. It was a variation of the well-to-do young lady outfit I usually wore, a complete set from Shizuki’s own fashion brand: SIDUKI. Coincidentally, the theme of this specific line was “dress like a Sakurazaka” or something like that.
To be honest, it didn’t quite sit right with me that we were modeling my go-to outfit. Because, well, this was the outfit the world usually found me in. The fact that we were modeling it meant that we expected Nonoka to mimic it to a certain extent. This was my look. What if Nonoka and I were to bump into each other on the street wearing the exact same thing? I think that would make her day, and…I don’t know. The idea of doing anything that might bring her any closer to me wrenched at my heart.
One day, I would have to hurt Nonoka. Like, really, really betray her. To make that easier on me, I would’ve liked to avoid interacting with her, to create that distance now and maintain it, but my role in spurring her growth made that impossible.
Seriously. Why do things have to be so complicated?
“Mio, what’s going on? You look like your dog just died.” Yuya’s voice broke through my thoughts.
“Oh, sorry.”
Crap. I was in the middle of my shoot. I brushed aside my thoughts and refocused. It was weird; at first, I’d been a total fish out of water in front of the camera, but now, thanks to the great Yuya Takanashi’s guidance, I’d venture to say that I was almost comfortable. Though, I had to reiterate that this was thanks to the great Takanashi-sensei. If it weren’t for him, I was sure I’d still be floundering.
I somehow made it through my shoot, and after all the cameras and lighting fixtures had been put away, Yuya came up to me. “Mio, honey, you’re a natural.”
“I’m not sure about that,” I deflected.
“But I am,” he replied. “At first you were here.” He used his hand to gesture a line at about waist height. “But now you’re here.” He moved his hand up maybe an inch. “The speed at which you improve is nothing short of phenomenal!”
Really? Judging by how little your hand moved, it sure didn’t seem like it. “I always appreciate your bluntness,” I replied. “But I’m well aware I have a long way to go. Next time, I’ll be on a step even higher yet.”
“Cheeky girl. I know you’re good for it, though. It’s odd; this is typically when other girls begin to plateau.”
“Well, I can’t, because… No, never mind.”
The words, because I have to save my sister, clawed their way up my throat before I swallowed them back down and offered a bland smile instead. Yes. I was driven to improve like a soul possessed, but I was sure that went for all the other girls in this industry. To claim otherwise just to distinguish myself felt disingenuous, not to mention disrespectful of their efforts.
“Such unique sensibilities,” Yuya commented. “Oh, you never fail to captivate. It makes me wonder, from which couch cushion did Shizuki find you hiding under?”
I started to recount that our meeting had been nothing but a coincidence, yet I could only utter a single syllable. I had honestly thought for a time our meeting had been a random encounter. Now, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” I stated with another bland smile, cutting the conversation short.
After saying goodbye to Yuya, I started to collect my things to head home when I noticed a new voicemail on my Sato phone number. It was from the doctor at the previous hospital where Shizuku was being treated. I quickly played the message and learned they had found some of Shizuku’s belongings in her old room and requested I retrieve them.
Seeing no reason not to, I left the studio and headed straight to the hospital, still dressed in my Sosei Academy uniform. It took some getting used to, wearing my uniform everywhere without the need to switch identities. But after having my identity unveiled in such a dramatic manner, I had better put that uniform to good use, right?
Upon arriving at the hospital, I checked in and approached the young nurse who had always cared for Shizuku. She appeared slightly cautious at first glance until recognition dawned on her, and then her expression warmed into a kind smile. “Is that you, Mio? My, don’t you look fancy. What brings you here today?”
“I just came by to pick up Shizuku’s belongings,” I answered.
“Oh? Did she forget something?” She flipped through her notebook. “Ah, this. Okay. Give me one second, I’ll be right back!”
I sat in the waiting area for a few moments before the doctor came out holding a small bag.
“Hello, doctor, it’s good to see you,” I said, standing up to greet him.
“It’s good to see you too. Keeping well these past few months?”
After exchanging pleasantries, he lifted the bag. “This is Shizuku’s. To thank you for coming all this way, I’d love to treat you to a drink,” he stated, pointing at the nearby vending machine.
I understood his intent for a word with me in private immediately. I smirked inwardly—I wasn’t sure if the old me would’ve caught on so quickly. “Of course. I’m sure you have lots of questions about Shizuku,” I responded.
He smiled at my recognition. “I hope I’m not being too presumptuous.”
“Not at all. You were her doctor for a long time.”
The hospital transfer had been pushed through rather quickly; it probably left him with more questions than answers. Needless to say, he didn’t know a single thing about the deal I made.
“What are you having?” he asked as we approached the vending machine.
“Orange juice, please.”
“Coming right up.”