After meeting Mom, I went straight home.
I wasn't in the mood to go inside yet, so I lingered in the hallway outside my door, leaning against the wall with a cigarette between my fingers.
Yeah.
I've started smoking cigarettes too.
The smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling while I stared at nothing in particular, letting my head empty out.
Then footsteps snapped me out of it.
Someone was running up the stairs.
A moment later, Suzuki—my idol neighbor—burst onto the top floor, practically crashing into the landing as she caught her breath.
"Shi—"
Suzuki stopped mid-word.
Her eyes dropped to the cigarette between my fingers.
"…Shiba-kun?"
For a second she just stared at it, brows knitting together.
Then she crossed her arms, puffing her cheeks a little.
"Since when do you smoke?" she said, tone sharp, just like a tsundere. "That's gross, you know."
I let out a dry laugh.
"Cut me some slack. I'm stressed," I said. "It helps me calm down. And I really need to calm down right now."
I took a drag, exhaling slowly, then raised an eyebrow at her.
"What about you? You look like a tornado hit you."
She blinked, then let out a small, tired laugh.
"Ugh… don't even start," she groaned, leaning against the wall for a second. "I just got back from practice. Total chaos today."
She brushed a strand of hair from her face, still catching her breath.
"Kurumi and Yui were lowkey flirting the whole time," she muttered. "Nono basically had to babysit all of us like some exhausted mom."
She sighed dramatically.
"I swear, being an idol group is just group therapy with choreography."
Kurumi flirting with a girl?
Yeah, that checks out. She's got that I kissed a girl and I liked it energy.
Like a Japanese Katy Perry.
Terrifying thought.
"So," I said, flicking a bit of ash off the cigarette, "you've got girls flirting with each other in the group now?"
I raised an eyebrow at her.
"What is it, a pride parade backstage or something?"
Suzuki blinked at me, then her face flushed.
"W-what?! N-no!" she snapped, straightening up immediately. "It's not like that!"
She crossed her arms, clearly flustered.
"I mean—Kurumi just likes teasing people, okay? And Yui is way too easy to tease, that's all." She huffed. "They're idiots."
Then she glanced at the cigarette again, frowning.
"And don't change the subject! Since when do you smoke like some washed-up rockstar?"
I took another casual puff, leaning back against the wall.
"Since I started working part-time at a bar," I said. "And my life's been pretty stressful lately, you know. Cut me some slack."
I exhaled slowly, glancing at her.
"Jeez. You're starting to sound like my mom."
Suzuki blinked, clearly thrown off by that, then puffed her cheeks in annoyance.
"I do not sound like your mom," she shot back. "I'm just saying it's gross, okay? Idols aren't supposed to be seen with smokers."
She paused, then added with a tired huff:
"And second of all—bars? Since when are you working at a bar?"
I took another drag, shrugging.
"How do you think I've been funding my career, princess?" I said dryly. "You think everything runs on PR and smiles?"
I flicked the ash off the cigarette.
"Yeah, maybe for you."
I glanced at her.
"You and the girls had thousands at your concerts. I barely made my debut with what? 250?"
Suzuki blinked.
The irritation drained out of her face, replaced by something more awkward. She looked away, scuffing her shoe against the floor.
"…Sorry," she muttered.
She crossed her arms again, but it looked more defensive than annoyed now.
"I didn't mean to sound like some stuck-up idol or whatever." She sighed, shoulders sagging a little. "I just… worry about you sometimes, okay?"
Then she huffed, clearly embarrassed she'd admitted that much.
"Ugh. Don't make a big deal out of it."
She glanced at me sideways.
"You're my friend. Whether you like it or not."
I shrugged, a dry little motion.
"Yeah. I appreciate the concern."
Suzuki raised an eyebrow at me, studying my face.
"Okay… so what's got you this stressed?" she asked. "What happened?"
I let out a quiet sigh, staring down the hallway for a second before answering.
"I met with my mom today."
Suzuki blinked.
"…Oh."
The sharpness in her posture softened immediately. Her arms uncrossed, and the teasing edge in her voice disappeared.
"That's… kind of a big deal, isn't it?" she said carefully. "I thought you two weren't really… talking."
She hesitated, then glanced at the cigarette again before looking back at me.
"…Did it go badly?"
I flicked the cigarette away into the open air, watching the ember die out against the pavement below.
"Eh."
I shrugged.
"Her main move was hiding behind Kaede." I scoffed lightly. "Not really my thing."
I leaned back against the wall again.
"Kaede at least did it right. She apologized. Came to my show too, even though she's, like, your biggest fan."
A yawn slipped out of me, more bored than tired.
"Mom still thinks money fixes everything." I waved a hand dismissively. "She tried to pay for the whole thing."
I smirked faintly.
"But I was faster. Even tipped the waiter."
I paused a beat.
"750 yen."
Suzuki froze, arms crossed, cheeks puffed like she was about to snap.
"…She dragged Kaede-chan into it?" she repeated, quieter, almost double-checking.
Her usual spark dimmed, replaced by tight anger and… pity. She uncrossed her arms slowly, rubbing the back of her neck.
"That's… messed up," she said, low and clipped. "She's just a kid. She shouldn't be stuck in the middle of that."
She glanced toward the stairwell window, lips pressed thin.
"I don't care if your mom didn't mean it… using your little sister to guilt you? That's just low. Kaede-chan's already dealing with enough."
I shrugged, staring at the spot where my cigarette burned out.
"Yeah. Well. That's my mom."
Suzuki didn't say anything at first.
Her jaw tightened, just a little.
Like she was chewing on words she wasn't sure she should say.
Then—
"…You didn't deserve that," she muttered.
I blinked.
She wasn't looking at me anymore.
She was staring at the railing, fingers gripping it like she wanted to snap it in half.
"And Kaede-chan didn't deserve to be dragged into it either," she added, voice low. "That's not fair to either of you."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
"Life's not fair," I said quietly.
"Yeah, well," she shot back, "it should at least try."
She finally looked at me again — not annoyed, not flustered, not teasing.
Just… worried.
Really worried.
"You okay?" she asked, softer this time.
I didn't answer right away.
"Yeah. She told me she loves me, for like… the first time in years."
My voice came out flat, almost bored. "Funny how people realize they love you only after they've already let you go."
I shrugged, like the whole thing was just another item on my to‑do list.
"I'm thinking of dropping by tomorrow. Gotta pick up some stuff. My old PC's still there, some mangas, a few vinyls. I'll text Kaede later."
Suzuki looked at me, her expression softening in that way she tries to hide — the idol mask slipping just a little.
"Yeah, you should go," she said, nodding quickly. "Kaede‑chan misses you a lot."
She shifted her weight, ponytail swaying, cheeks puffing out for a second before she caught herself — classic idol mannerisms she couldn't turn off even when she tried.
"You know…" she continued, lowering her voice, "when she asked me about our beef, I swear — even if I told her we still hated each other, Kaede‑chan would've just apologized anyway and said, 'please don't hate him.'"
Suzuki let out a tiny laugh, half fond, half sad.
"She's just that sweet."
She crossed her arms again, but this time it wasn't tsundere attitude — it was protective, almost big‑sister energy.
"And honestly?" she added, glancing at me with a small frown, "she deserves better than being dragged into adult drama. She really cares about you, Shiba‑kun."
I let out a small breath, the kind that wasn't quite a laugh.
"Yeah. She's a huge J‑pop fan like any other Japanese girl, and she still came to an underground rap show just to see me."
My voice stayed flat.
"That means more to me than Mom's money ever could."
Suzuki snorted — a quick, bright idol laugh that bounced off the hallway walls.
"Oh, I see how it is," she said, planting a hand on her hip. "Shiba‑kun can tip a waiter 750 yen like some mysterious bad boy with deep pockets…"
She leaned in, eyes narrowing, ponytail swaying with exaggerated judgment.
"…but he can't buy his little sister something nice?"
I blinked at her.
"I gave her 10k yen when we met," I said flatly. "But sure. I could buy the ladies something. Thinking an expensive perfume for Mom. You got any idea what I should get for Kaede?"
Suzuki placed her thumb on her lips in that exaggerated thinking pose idols always do on variety shows, tilting her head like she was posing for a camera.
"Hmm~" she hummed, drawing it out playfully. "A set of lipsticks would be nice! Kaede-chan doesn't really wear makeup, so she could try looking pretty from time to time~"
"Dully noted," I muttered.
She dropped the pose. Her eyes met mine, and the teasing spark softened—just a little.
"You're strong, Shiba-kun," she said quietly, voice losing most of its idol autotune. "Just… stop running away from the people who care."
I looked away, exhaling through my nose.
"Yeah," I said, tone flat. "I'll think about it."
We chatted for a couple of minutes, then I went back to my room.
I texted Kaede to let her know about my meeting with Mom. She wasn't surprised she came up, but said she was glad we actually talked it out. I told her I'd drop by tomorrow, and she admitted she'd missed me. I told her I kind of missed her too.
After that, I headed over to the Kurogane's izakaya. Time to work on the mixtape.
I spread out the plans, laid down the beats, and we started recording the features—Sora tearing through fast flows, Rei layering his melodic, sad verses right alongside my hooks.
Family drama could wait until tomorrow. Right now… it was showtime.