"What do you mean by that?"
Takahashi Mio found herself drowning in a strange cocktail of emotions, and Haruno Reika's cryptic words only deepened her confusion. She lifted her gaze, her eyes searching for answers.
"Do you really not get it?"
Haruno Reika caught Mio's questioning look in her peripheral vision. She took a long, slow drag from her cigarette, letting the smoke curl between them. Her crimson lips curved into a knowing smile as a wisp of pale blue smoke dissipated in the warm glow of the streetlight.
"Didn't I tell you before?"
"If Hōjō Shione really is his ex-girlfriend, then that means he probably doesn't have any ulterior motives toward you. At the very least, the chances of this being some kind of trap are incredibly low."
Haruno Reika watched the endless river of taillights flowing beneath the neon-drenched Tokyo nightscape. She considered everything Mio had shared with her earlier, then suddenly let out a soft chuckle.
"Maybe he genuinely wants to mold you into a star."
"...I know all that."
Mio sat by the roadside, arms wrapped tightly around her knees as if trying to hold herself together. Her beautiful eyes held a distant, troubled look as she whispered, more to herself than to Reika,
"But why?"
Shiratori Seiya's words echoed in her memory, each one a phantom whisper:
'You know, you're different from others...'
'You just haven't realized it yet.'
'The moment you truly step onto that stage, everyone will cheer for you. They'll be drawn in by the light that radiates from you.'
'If you're willing to trust me, nothing is impossible...'
Am I really different?
The question haunted her. And then, unbidden, an image materialized in her mind—a girl standing under brilliant stage lights, bathed in the adoration of countless eyes. She was smiling, confident and warm, shining like the lead in a coming-of-age anime.
Hōjō Shione.
A sudden wave of inadequacy crashed over Takahashi Mio's heart.
And then, a treacherous thought slipped through: Could I ever shine like that?
The thought startled her so much that her expression froze mid-contemplation. A moment later, a helpless, self-deprecating smile twisted her pretty features.
How could that ever happen... Mio, you're such an idiot.
...
Thursday arrived, two days after the magazine scandal that had revealed Hōjō Shione's "boyfriend" to the public. The story had spread through the entertainment circles like a seasonal anime spoiler—everyone had an opinion, and no one could stop talking about it.
At H University, tucked away in the corner of an empty classroom, Takahashi Mio rested her chin on her palm. Her gaze kept drifting—casually, she hoped—toward Shiratori Seiya as he worked. She was studying him, really studying him.
Her eyes traced a path from his brows downward, carefully cataloging each feature.
A moment later, she found herself frowning.
Okay, sure, his serious expression had a certain appeal. But he wasn't exactly breathtakingly handsome. He wasn't the kind of guy who'd make hearts skip beats or inspire nosebleeds like some bishōnen from a shoujo manga.
So why would someone like Hōjō Shione date him?
After a full day and night of mental gymnastics, she'd finally managed to convince herself that the two of them had actually been a couple. But the why still eluded her.
"What are you thinking about?"
Shiratori Seiya finished marking up the course schedule and looked up to find Mio frowning, biting her lip like she was wrestling with some great philosophical dilemma.
"Ah—!"
His voice yanked her back to reality like a sudden commercial break. Mio flinched, nearly jumping out of her seat.
In an instant, her conflicted expression melted into a gentle, practiced smile. "Nothing at all."
Her eyes met his for a fraction of a second before she guiltily looked away—right at the schedule he was holding out to her.
She took it, studying the red circles he'd drawn around specific courses. "What do these mean?"
"It means for these classes, you need to achieve at least an A on your final exams this semester."
"Huh?"
Mio's lips parted in genuine surprise. She stared at him blankly, her expression clearly broadcasting, You've got to be kidding me.
But Shiratori Seiya either didn't notice or chose to ignore her silent protest. "What? Is there a problem?"
Yes. A huge problem.
Mio bit back a retort and quickly scanned the courses he'd circled. She'd only glanced at them before, but now a rough count suggested eight or nine classes.
Introduction to Cultural Studies. Cultural Psychology. Introduction to Aesthetics.
The list went on, each course name making her head spin faster than a magical girl transformation sequence.
"That's so many..." she couldn't help complaining.
"It's fine. Is it really that difficult?"
"..."
Mio paused, then clenched her teeth. "Yes. It's difficult."
Psychology? Aesthetics? Just hearing those names made her want to fall asleep like it was the filler episode of a long-running series. She had absolutely zero resistance to these theoretical subjects. Give her something practical any day.
"Then I'll set a goal for you. Like I said last time—if you achieve it, I'll give you an extra million yen."
"?!"
Her eyes snapped open wide, suddenly sparkling like a protagonist discovering a hidden power-up. She swallowed hard. "R-really?"
"I never lie."
Shiratori Seiya gave her what he probably thought was a trustworthy look. Mio wasn't entirely convinced, but the zeroes on that check were doing most of the convincing for her.
"Okay. I understand."
She tucked the schedule carefully into her bag. Sure, it would be difficult, but if money was on the line, suddenly the impossible didn't seem so impossible anymore.
But as she moved to zip her bag shut, she hesitated. Looking up at him with narrowed eyes, she asked, "You're not just messing with me, are you?"
This time, Shiratori Seiya didn't bother answering with words. He simply rolled his eyes at her, packed his bag, and made to leave. He had two song copyright contracts to sign that afternoon, and teenage drama wasn't on his schedule.
"Hey, wait."
Seeing Shiratori Seiya about to leave, Takahashi Mio quickly called out to him, grabbing his arm with more urgency than she intended.
"What else is it?"
His tone was flat, but he stopped. That was something, at least.
"Well, actually, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about..."
When he turned to face her, Mio released his arm immediately, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with practiced delicacy. She straightened her posture, arranged her features into her gentlest smile, and said,
"Um... as your current girlfriend, can I indulge in a little gossip?"
Current girlfriend.
The phrase hung in the air between them. It had been a week since they'd established their relationship—if you could call this arrangement a relationship—and this was the first time she'd referred to herself that way directly.
But Shiratori Seiya knew better. If she were truly his girlfriend, she wouldn't be sitting there with such careful politeness, like a character who hadn't quite figured out her relationship flag yet.
As if worried he might refuse, Takahashi Mio looked up at him with pleading eyes—the kind of desperate, abandoned-wife expression you'd see in a midday drama. She'd practiced this particular look for a solid twenty minutes in front of her bathroom mirror.
It had absolutely no effect on him whatsoever.
Without hesitation, Shiratori Seiya dropped his bag and sat down beside her.
"You've probably been overthinking things for the past two days, haven't you? Go ahead, ask whatever you want."
"Uh..."
His directness caught her off guard. Internally, she found herself wondering how he'd managed to survive in society with that personality. Did he have any idea how normal human interactions worked?
But she kept those thoughts locked safely behind her gentle, slightly shy expression. Tilting her head with practiced innocence, she asked softly,
"So... that really was Hōjō Shione who came to see you the day before yesterday?"
"Yes."
"Why did she come to see you?"
"I don't know."
Shiratori Seiya answered with such straightforward honesty that it circled back around to seeming like a lie. Mio bit her lip, her disbelief written clearly across her features.
"When did you two start dating?"
"High school."
He glanced at her sideways, a hint of amusement creeping into his otherwise flat tone. "You're not gossiping like a girlfriend. You're interviewing me like a television reporter."
"Hehe, I'm just a little curious..."
Her dry chuckle faded as she swallowed hard. This was it.
"Last question."
She took a breath.
"Why did you date her? Was it... like me?"
What she really meant was: Did she also agree to date you because of money at first? Was it a transaction, just like ours? But she phrased it carefully, wrapping the sharp question in layers of subtle implication.
Shiratori Seiya was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was calm.
"She doesn't overspend. She's never taken out a single online loan."
"..."
Mio's smile froze on her face. On any normal day, she'd be mentally cursing him out right now, coming up with at least a dozen creative insults. But today, the words landed differently.
They landed like a weight in her chest.
Of course. Of course she's better than me.
Before she could spiral further, Shiratori Seiya continued.
"What you really want to know is why she'd be interested in someone like me, right?"
Mio's smile snapped back into place, bright and dismissive. "Hehe, I didn't mean that at all—"
Shiratori Seiya cut her off. His dark eyes—deep and pure black, like polished obsidian—fixed on her with an intensity that made her breath catch.
"People always get caught up wondering if they're worthy of something. But that kind of thinking? It comes from not trusting your own strength."
He reached out and pointed at the dress she was wearing—a soft blue slip dress that hugged her collarbone.
"Like that dress you have on."
Mio froze. A flush crept up her cheeks, warmth spreading across her skin where his gaze lingered.
This dress was one she'd bought herself, months ago. Compared to the clothes Shiratori Seiya had purchased for her, it was practically bargain-bin material. Normally, she was too shy to wear it outside—she'd only ever tried it on in front of her mirror at home, maybe twice, before carefully putting it back in the closet to gather dust.
But today, meeting Shiratori Seiya, she'd found herself thinking about Hōjō Shione. About how, as his current girlfriend, she shouldn't pale in comparison. About how maybe, just maybe, if she wore something nice, he'd actually look at her.
The result? From the moment they'd met until now, he hadn't mentioned it. Hadn't looked at her any differently. She'd been quietly disappointed, filing it away as another failure.
But now he was mentioning it.
Her heart did a small, traitorous flip. So he's not completely blind, then.
Shiratori Seiya continued, his tone utterly serious.
"If you look good and you know it, you can wear that dress anywhere without hesitation. You won't care what anyone says—if anything, you'll think they're the ones who don't understand fashion. But if your foundation isn't solid, you'll start thinking things like 'this doesn't suit me' or 'I'm not worthy of this,' even if nobody says a word."
He paused.
"For the record? I never once felt inferior about dating Hōjō Shione."
"..."
Mio's smile faded completely. Her emotions churned, a messy cocktail of recognition and resentment. She clenched her hands in her lap.
"Then why..." Her voice came out smaller than she intended. "Why did you choose to date me? And telling me to become a star—is that just you comparing me to her?"
The words tumbled out, laced with the frustration she'd been holding in for two days. Her true nature was showing, the polished surface cracking.
Shiratori Seiya didn't seem surprised by the shift. If anything, he looked relieved she'd dropped the act.
"Compare?" He tilted his head, genuinely confused. "Why would I compare you?"
Meeting his gaze, Mio felt her throat go dry. Words failed her.
Shiratori Seiya studied her for a long moment, something clicking behind his eyes.
"It's like I said before. You just don't understand how much potential you actually have."
"So when I tell you that you could be a star, you can't accept it. You don't believe it's possible. And because you can't accept it, you try to find another explanation—something simpler, something that makes sense to you. Like me trying to compare you to Hōjō Shione."
He paused.
"Which is honestly kind of foolish."
Mio's face flushed bright red. She bit her lip hard, her eyes glistening with something caught between embarrassment and frustration.
"...Forget it. If you won't believe in yourself, there's only so much I can say."
He leaned back slightly.
"So don't think about anything at all."
Mio blinked. "What do you mean, 'don't think about anything at all'?"
"People lose confidence when the goal seems too far away. So don't set a goal like 'become a star' from the beginning."
He raised his index finger and gently tapped her forehead.
"Don't think about whether you can do it. Just do what I ask you to do, and give it everything you have. That's all."
"Until one day, you look up and realize you're only one step away from where you wanted to be."
His gaze held hers, steady and sure.
"So just trust me. The same way I chose you without hesitation."
For a moment, Takahashi Mio couldn't breathe. Something warm bloomed in her chest, unfamiliar and frightening and wonderful all at once.
After driving Takahashi Mio home, Shiratori Seiya sat alone in his car, the engine idling softly as he stared through the windshield at nothing in particular.
The conversation replayed in his mind.
He'd always thought Takahashi Mio was simple—a foolish girl who liked attention, who spent money she didn't have, who drifted through life without direction. He'd never looked deeper.
But tonight had shown him something else. Underneath all that bravado and those terrible financial decisions, there was genuine insecurity. Genuine fear that she wasn't enough.
When they'd talked earlier, her inferiority had practically spilled from her eyes like a glass about to overflow.
It didn't make sense to him at first. A girl as beautiful as her—she should have spent her whole life being the center of attention wherever she went. She should be untouchable, confident, practically invincible.
He frowned, turning the problem over in his mind.
Was it really because of Hōjō Shione?
That seemed to be the trigger. Seeing his ex-girlfriend—successful, talented, adored by millions—had lit a fuse Mio didn't even know she had.
Troublesome.
This kind of insecurity wouldn't disappear overnight. She'd probably keep feeling small until she had something concrete to stand on—until her own accomplishments could match Hōjō Shione's.
But maybe that wasn't a bad thing. Handled correctly, insecurity could become fuel. Motivation. The kind of fire that pushed people past their limits.
The key was letting her experience her own talent firsthand.
I should move up those acting lessons.
His thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing from his pocket. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen.
Caller: Hōjō Suzune
His stomach dropped.
He stared at the name for a moment, hesitation flickering through him. Then, with a resigned sigh, he pressed answer.
"Hello? What's up, Suzune?"
"Hello~ Brother-in-law!"
The voice on the other end was sweet, syrupy, stretched out in a way that made his skin crawl. He physically turned his head away from the phone, trying to escape the cuteness assault.
"What's wrong?" he asked again, more cautiously this time.
"I have the best news to tell you!"
"..."
The ominous feeling in his gut intensified. He actually considered hanging up. It would be so easy. Just one tap and—
But Hōjō Suzune didn't wait for his response. She giggled, a light, airy sound that somehow carried menace, and continued on her own.
"Brother-in-law! My sister said I can come see you for my birthday!"
Shiratori Seiya sat up straight, his expression darkening. "She agreed?"
"Mm-hmm! She said it's too dangerous for me to go alone, so she'll bring me herself when she comes back to campus in a few days..."
Another pause. Another giggle.
"But don't worry, brother-in-law! Big sister said she knows you don't want to see her. She's just dropping me off!"
"..."
Shiratori Seiya stared at the dashboard, the weight of the situation settling over him like a lead blanket.
Of course she did.