After polishing off her noodles, Hojo Suzune made an executive decision: they were taking the open-air cable car down. No negotiations. Her stated mission? Capturing a mid-air photo with Shiratori Seiya.
She was clearly worried about dropping the camera, so she whipped out her phone instead and proceeded to take approximately eight hundred consecutive shots, her grin stretching from ear to ear the entire ride.
The moment they stepped off the cable car, however, the consequences of her enthusiasm caught up with her. She hugged her arms tightly, shivering despite her best efforts to look unaffected.
Shiratori Seiya frowned, reaching out to press the back of his hand against her forehead.
No fever.
Good.
He pulled back and fixed her with a serious look.
"Will you listen next time?"
Suzune clenched her teeth, rubbing her arms with exaggerated determination. "N-not cold."
"..."
Words failed him. He simply ushered her quickly toward his car.
Once inside, he cranked up the heater. Suzune visibly thawed, her shivering subsiding as she curled into the passenger seat. For a moment, she was quiet, staring out the window without speaking.
Shiratori Seiya glanced at her profile. "Where to now?"
She turned, a faint flush still coloring her cheeks, and smiled. "Seiya's house."
"...?"
"I live alone. There's nowhere fun to hang out at my place."
"What do you mean—"
She gestured toward the paper bag in the back seat. "I need somewhere to change, Seiya."
Then her eyes curved into mischievous crescents. "Besides, even if there's nothing fun, I still want to see where Seiya lives."
After all, if they were going to get married someday, she needed to get a feel for the atmosphere of his home.
Suddenly, a new thought struck her. The smile evaporated from her small face, her brows knitting into an inverted V. Her hands clenched in her lap, and when she spoke again, her voice was tight with anxiety.
"You haven't… moved in with her, have you?"
Shiratori Seiya glanced at her as he started the engine, a faint chuckle escaping him. "What's wrong with that? Couples live together, don't they?"
Hojo Suzune's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
She whipped her head toward the window, teeth gritted, fury simmering beneath her skin.
That vixen. That scheming, fox-faced vixen.
How could things have progressed so fast?
Moving in already?
Hojo Shione, you absolute fool—you don't even know they're living together, and here I am finding out like this.
What good are you anyway?
...
A wave of bitter jealousy crashed through her chest, so sharp it almost hurt. She spun back to face Shiratori Seiya, her voice pitching higher.
"H-how can you just move in together like that?"
"Hm? Why not? Lots of college couples live together. Splitting rent cuts down on housing costs."
He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, utterly calm.
"B-but—"
Anxiety made her stammer. Her cherry-pink lips parted and closed several times before finally collapsing into a pathetic whine.
"You just can't, that's all…"
Her words tumbled out faster, desperate. "Don't you think it's too fast? You don't even know what kind of person she really is. I'm not saying she's bad, but shouldn't you at least get to know her first?"
"You said she's greedy, didn't you? What if she's just after your money and cleans you out completely? And if she gets pregnant, it's over—you'll never get rid of her, no matter what…"
Her voice grew thicker, more strained. "If you need help with rent, just tell me. Even if I don't have money, I can borrow from my sister. And if she won't lend it, I'll get a part-time job. I don't care."
"How could you just move in with someone…"
At a red light, Shiratori Seiya turned to look at her. Suzune's eyes were glassy, on the verge of spilling over. Deciding he'd teased her enough, he sighed.
"But Suzune… I never said I moved in with anyone."
"Eh?!"
Her crestfallen expression froze mid-crumple. She blinked, still uncertain. "But you just said—"
"That was you, Suzune. You're the one who brought it up. I never said I was living with anyone."
He paused, a hint of amusement creeping back into his voice. "And were you serious about supporting me?"
Her face erupted in color, red flooding from her cheeks all the way down her neck. She twisted away, too mortified to face him.
"You jerk! I'm not talking to you anymore!"
...
"I'm coming in!"
As if announcing her presence to some hypothetical rival, Hojo Suzune called out at the doorway, then darted inside like a small missile.
The first thing she did was wrinkle her nose and take a long, deep sniff.
The air was neutral.
No suspicious perfumes, no lingering traces of feminine products. Suzune exhaled in relief, but she wasn't done yet. While toeing off her shoes, her gaze swept the shoe rack. That done, she proceeded to patrol every corner of the apartment with the thoroughness of a detective investigating a crime scene.
Only after confirming beyond any doubt that Shiratori Seiya lived alone did she finally relax.
Good. That fox has some sense after all.
Shiratori Seiya watched her little inspection tour with quiet amusement. "All done? Convinced there's no one else hiding in the closet?"
"Hmph. Always trying to trick me."
She picked up her paper bag, then turned to meet his eyes. "The bathroom. I need to shower. How do I use it?"
"I don't exactly keep a lot of women's products around."
"It's fine if I skip lotion once. I'm not as delicate as you think."
"Fair enough."
He led her to the bathroom. Though his apartment was a single room, the bathroom was surprisingly spacious—he had a habit of taking baths, so he'd specifically chosen a place with a good-sized tub.
After explaining the basics, he looked at her face. "Do you want a bath? It's still early. I can draw the water for you."
"No need. I'll just rinse off quickly."
She turned and pushed him out, her shyness breaking through her bravado. "Don't come in, okay? I will lock it."
Shiratori Seiya spread his hands helplessly. "Do I really look like a pervert to you?"
"Idiot."
She stuck out her pink tongue and snap—the bathroom door closed firmly between them.
She'd even brought her kimono inside with her.
The sound of water began rushing, and Shiratori Seiya checked the time. By the time Suzune finished showering, the cake he'd ordered should be arriving.
After all, he'd watched her grow up alongside Shione. She'd traveled all the way to Tokyo for her birthday—how could he not prepare something for such an important day?
He'd ordered a cake in advance, splurged on fireworks, and arranged for someone to set them off in the evening. He'd even scouted the location carefully—the display would be visible from both his apartment and the nearby park.
...
It was three o'clock now.
By the time Suzune finished her shower, changed, and fixed herself up, it would probably be around five. Then they'd eat cake, head out to watch the fireworks, and everything would be just about perfect.
Shiratori Seiya ran through the mental checklist, confirmed there were no issues, and settled onto the sofa to scroll through his phone.
Time trickled by.
Suzune had said she was just going to rinse off, but the water kept running for over half an hour before finally cutting off. Next came the whir of a hairdryer, humming on and off for another thirty minutes.
Finally, the bathroom door creaked open.
Tap, tap, tap.
The soft patter of small footsteps drew Shiratori Seiya's attention. He looked up, and the first thing he noticed was her toes—small, delicate, perfectly clean. His gaze traveled upward, past the hem of her kimono to the pale, slender legs beneath.
But as his eyes climbed higher, something felt off. The kimono hung loosely on her frame, almost as if she'd just draped it over herself. The fabric around her waist bunched awkwardly, loose and misshapen.
"Seiya… can you help me put on my kimono properly?"
Hojo Suzune pressed one hand flat against her chest to hold the fabric in place, clutching the wide obi with the other. Her eyes, glossy with lingering moisture, lifted to meet his in a look of unmistakable pleading.
This is also my birthday wish, those charming eyes seemed to say.
Whether it was his imagination or not, Shiratori Seiya thought her face looked redder than it had at noon—almost unhealthily so.
A proper kimono couldn't be put on alone, unlike a casual yukata. She'd probably prepared for him to help her all along. He'd already anticipated this, but still.
"I might not be very good at this," he said, moving to stand behind her.
"Mm…"
Perhaps the kimono itself had a calming effect, or maybe she was just tired, but Suzune seemed noticeably less energetic than before. Her usual spark had dimmed to something softer, quieter.
He took the obi from her hands, his fingers brushing against hers.
Cold.
Shiratori Seiya paused, frowning. "Why are you so cold?"
Suzune pulled her hand back quickly, pressing it against her own cheek with a puzzled expression. "Cold? I don't think so?"
After a moment, she offered, "I just got out of the shower, isn't that normal? Don't worry about little things like that. Hurry and help me with this—we still need to go out soon…"
He studied her suspiciously, but her eyes met his with genuine liveliness. After a brief hesitation, he threaded the obi around her slender waist.
He hadn't helped anyone put on a kimono in ages, but he'd quickly reviewed the steps on his phone earlier. The process was clumsy, but the final result was fine.
That wasn't all. He also gathered her hair and tied it into a simple bun—a skill honed from years of helping Hojo Shione with hers. His fingers moved with practiced ease.
Hojo Suzune turned to face him, standing straight and proper. She tilted her head slightly, and a radiant smile bloomed across her face.
In that instant, an entirely different aura emanated from her—one that transcended her usual youthful charm.
Shiratori Seiya caught himself staring. He couldn't help but think: She's grown into quite the graceful young lady.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang in quick succession, snapping him back to the present.
"Wait a moment," he said, heading for the door.
...
Hojo Suzune watched in a daze as Shiratori Seiya placed a cake on the table, lit the candles, and dimmed the living room lights. The sun hadn't fully set, but the flickering candlelight cast a warm glow across both their faces.
Shiratori Seiya smiled at her. "Alright. Make a wish."
She bit her red lips, fighting back the sting in her eyes, and tried to pout. "What's this? I didn't say I wanted cake. I already made my wish earlier."
"Earlier?"
"Yes. I already made one at the shrine on Mount Takao."
"Then make another one."
She pressed her lips together, then relented. "Fine."
Making another wish won't change anything anyway.
She closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and held the pose for a few seconds. Then she opened her eyes, puffed out her cheeks, and blew out every candle in a single breath.
Click.
Shiratori Seiya flipped the lights back on. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a small wooden box, opened it, and placed it in front of her.
"Happy Birthday, Suzune."
She didn't speak. Her gaze dropped to the necklace inside—simple, unelaborate. A small dagger carved from some pale jade-like stone, strung on a red cord.
"May you always be safe and healthy."
Even biting her lip couldn't stop the tears from welling up.
Hojo Suzune nodded vigorously, took a shaky breath, and managed to steady herself. She smiled at him through the lingering dampness in her eyes. "Then… can you take a picture of me?"
She lifted the necklace and fastened it around her pale neck.
"I'll grab the camera."
"No need. Your phone is fine."
After she arranged herself into a pose, Shiratori Seiya raised his phone.
Click.
He took several shots, picked the best one, and handed the phone over. "How is it? Decent?"
"Very good," she replied, accepting the phone.
But the moment the words left her mouth, her smile vanished. Her delicate brows furrowed, and she pressed a hand to her forehead, swaying dangerously to the side.
Shiratori Seiya was on his feet in an instant, catching her by the shoulder. His gaze swept over the sickly flush staining her cheeks, and his frown deepened. He already suspected what this was.
He pressed his palm to her forehead, then his own.
Not burning, but definitely warm. A fever.
Seriously?
He'd just wished her safety and health, and she spikes a fever in the span of a breath?
He bit back the complaint, guiding Suzune toward the sofa. "Wait here. I'll get the first-aid kit."
Suzune nodded weakly, watching him disappear from view through half-lidded eyes. Only when she was certain he wouldn't see did she let out a quiet breath.
Quickly—fighting through the dizziness pressing down on her—she grabbed Shiratori Seiya's phone.
She focused, her movements deliberate. First, she opened her own chat window, downloaded a software, and tucked it away in a hidden folder.
Then she opened the contacts.
Her fingertip slid down the screen, tracing names until it stopped.
Takahashi Mio.