“I-I-It can’t be! He’s with Kaoruko-san?!” Kyouhei exclaimed in shock from behind a nearby telephone pole.
Kaoruko was someone that Kyouhei had held fleeting feelings for in the past, but their age difference and the lack of interest that Kaoruko herself had seemed to have in romance had naturally made those feelings wane.
Still, with the memories of those past emotions still relatively fresh in his mind, the thought of Mizuhito dating Kaoruko gave him conflicting feelings.
“Kyouhei, think logically. If they were dating, he wouldn’t go into the café. He’d pick a day when the Corvette was closed,” Pamil told him.
“...Ugh, hearing you talk about logic is...”
Well, she was right, now that he considered it.
Dating the owner wasn’t the only reason to enter a café. If anything, it was more natural to assume that that’s where the date would be.
“Right, let’s go in,” he said.
Their disguises were perfect. After checking their appearance one more time in a pocket mirror, the group entered the Corvette.
“Welcooome,” Kaoruko said with her usual easy-going and calming smile. Then, she blinked puzzledly at them before asking: “...Oh, did you feel like an image change?”
Kyouhei instantly raced over to the counter.
“W-W-W-W-What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“Eh, but the w—” she tried to protest.
“Ahahaha, the weather is nice today, isn’t it?!” he laughed over her statement. It was rather blatant, but now wasn’t the time to be worrying about that.
He glanced down the counter to see Mizuhito looking at what was happening, but soon losing interest and looking out of the window.
“What’s wrong?” Kaoruko asked.
“Nothing at all,” he said in a strained whisper. “You can tell who I am, though?”
“You’re Kyouhei-kun, right?”
“How can you tell?”
“It’s how you walk and stand.”
Well, if close friends and family could tell who the other person was just watching them from behind, the same could well be true from the front, even if their features had changed.
“If you’re not just changing your image, what are you doing?”
“Ahh... Well, we don’t want Mizuhito to know we’re here.”
“You’re tailing him?” she asked.
“More or less,” he admitted.
“Oh, so you’re at that age now.”
“What age would that be?” he retorted.
“The age where you awaken to boys’ love.”
“I’ll never reach that age,” he insisted.
“Ehh?” she moaned in disappointment. “So you’re not stalking Mizuhito-kun because you’re interested?”
“The words are about right, but there’s no romance behind it,” he told her.
“So boring,” she sing-songed.
“It’s not!” he yelled, but still keeping his voice down, before continuing more normally: “Well, he was acting strange, so we got curious. I wondered whether he was going off the rails or getting taken advantage of.”
“Ahh,” Kaoruko said with a smile, “that’s what it was. I think it’s fine.”
“...Kaoruko-san, do you know something?”
“Hmmm,” she temporized, putting her index finger to her lips in thought. “I wasn’t asked not to say anything... Right, I’ll tell you later.”
“Hahh,” Kyouhei sighed.
“...Wait a minute,” she said, going to the back and fetching a large box. “Mizuhito-kun, here.”
“Ah, thanks,” he said, standing and taking the box in his arms. He left behind 3,000 yen and immediately left.
“...What was that?” Kyouhei asked. He wasn’t here to meet his girlfriend, or to meet Kaoruko, just to get that white box.
“A birthday cake.”
“A birthday cake?!” he asked in shock before suddenly realizing. “Oh, it’s her birthday?!”
“And he’ll...!” Sanae started in agreement before Pamil spoke over them.
“Kyouhei! We need to hurry, or we’ll lose him!”
“Got it, on my way! Kaoruko-san, sorry for the disturbance!”
“Ah, Kyouhei-k—” she said, trying to get their attention, but they’d already left.
Therefore...
“...I think they’re misunderstanding it, but I guess it’ll be fine?”
They had no way of hearing Kaoruko’s murmur.
● ● ●
The three of them were frozen.
It was because of the completely unexpected scene before them.
“Mizuhito-niichan!” “Ah, it’s Mizuhito!” Came the bright and cheerful voices of young children.
There were five or six of them, of different ages, but all younger than ten. They were all thronging about him like he was their parent as well, grabbing at his hands and climbing up his back.
“Ah, Hibiki-san,” came a voice from two middle-aged women who had left the seemingly-ordinary house slightly after the kids. “Sorry, did you really do it?”
“I did. I promised after all,” he said as if he was a completely different person than usual.
Finally, he, the children, and the women entered the house.
“What...?” Kyouhei managed.
“Hmm, maybe,” Pamil posited, her arms folded, “those women are his wives, and the children are his!”
“Two wives isn’t...” Kyouhei started, about to say that two wives weren’t a thing that people had before he fell silent. “Anyway... those kids are too old to be his.”
However much of a pervert Mizuhito was, he wouldn’t have had kids when he was about ten.
“...Maybe,” Sanae added her thoughts, “this... is a juvenile support institution...?”
“Juvenile support institution?” he asked. Though now that he thought about it, that was a word he’d heard often on the news recently.
“They used to be called orphanages,” Sanae explained.
Kyouhei whirled around to look at the house.
“But... it’s a normal home?” he asked for the others’ opinions.
“I’m sure it was just after the turn of the century... They established facilities called ‘group homes...’ A lot of people have narrow-minded views of the institutions, so they made them look like ordinary homes so they could integrate more easily into the community,” she told him.
“Hahh... so that’s what it is.”
“Indeed, it would appear Sanae is correct,” Pamil said, looking inside with her Royal Searcher Eye. “I can’t lip-read too well, but it looks like it’s one of the children’s birthday.”
Kyouhei fell silent.
So, Mizuhito volunteered... went out of his way to buy a cake for one of the orphans, and then came to deliver it?
“...Ugh,” he groaned, putting a hand and his head on a nearby wall like a regretful monkey.
“What’s wrong, Kyouhei?” Pamil asked.
“It’s just... I feel really dirty.”
The boy had not sought praise—and in fact had avoided notice—to buy a cake with (probably) his own money and bring it to the home. In fact, he’d probably dressed inconspicuously in keeping with the group home’s purpose to integrate more easily into the community.
How tawdry his concerns had been... When faced with his friend’s actions, which could well be called noble, he felt terrible about himself.
“I’m the worst...” Kyouhei muttered.
“T-That’s not true...!” Sanae tried to console him frantically.
But self-recrimination was not so easily abated once it came to the fore.
“Let’s just go home...” he muttered, trudging off.
Sanae trotted alongside him, constantly trying to cheer him up.
Pamil looked repeatedly between the house and the other two before humming slightly and following them.
● ● ●
The birthday party in the home went on for a rather long time.
It was therefore past seven that evening before he gave his excuses to the women and children and left.
“Ah... I’m an hour late. She’s probably gonna be mad,” he muttered to himself.
“Obviously I will,” came a voice from behind him as he checked his call history.
“Geh.”
“What’s with that reaction?” the girl asked, glaring at him as he hunched like a husband caught in an affair. “You were late, so I came to get you.”
“Thanks,” he answered with a pained smile.
She looked at him and then asked him a question in amazement. “I don’t get it, though. Volunteering there... Doesn’t it seem really different than your hobbies?”
“It’s not, though?” he said without a hint of offense. “I get a lot of attention.”
“Well, yeah,” she admitted.
“Besides,” he said with a grin. He looked like the final boss of a game telling someone his dastardly plan. “If I have this kind of past, then when I become famous, it’ll be like a ‘hidden episode’ and get me even more attention—it’s a guarantee!”
“...Right,” she said with a sigh.
She was staring at him like he’d ruined everything as he talked about his plans to accrue fame. Then, she said while shrugging: “I guess I’m the idiot for thinking you might actually just be a really nice guy.”
“Hahaha, I am a nice guy, though.”
“You’d just sell your soul to the devil for attention.”
“Hahaha, you’ll make me blush.”
“It’s not praise!” she shouted before stepping up to him and taking his hand. “Come on, we can still have dinner together, right?”
“That was my plan from the start,” he said as the girl fell into step next to him.
The two of them walked through the streets bathed in the setting sun, hand in hand.
“Hey,” he spoke.
“What?”
“How long do we have to hide this?”
“As long as we can!” the girl answered bluntly.
She was frowning, but there was a dusting of pink across her cheeks—that of a maiden in love.
“...Hmm.”
“It’d be embarrassing if Sanae knew I am dating a show-off pervert like you.”
“...So that’s the problem?”
“It is.”
“You’ve got a strange personality.”
“I don’t want to hear that from you!” the girl protested, chopping the back of his head.
“Then, for the time being, we’ll postpone the plan to get famous by doing it on top of a building and—”
“Postpone that plan forever!” the girl exclaimed, glaring at him, before she, Youko Minebe, let out a long sigh.