Tuesday evening.
After Hojo Shione had thoroughly tidied up her new living space—like a neat-freak protagonist reorganizing their room before a training arc—she pulled out every excuse in the book.
"The kitchen in the new place is just so inconvenient..."
"It's way too sad eating alone..."
"Is Seiya also by himself tonight? If it's not too much trouble, want to have dinner together?"
Before Shiratori Seiya could even respond, she'd already bought a mountain of groceries and packed his refrigerator fuller than a convenience store before a typhoon.
"It's been a while since I last cooked, so I'll just throw together a few simple dishes. Seiya probably won't mind, right?"
And yet, by evening, the table was practically groaning under the weight of a full-course meal.
Despite her claiming to have "just made them casually," Shiratori Seiya could tell from the beautiful presentation, the mouthwatering aroma, and the sheer deliciousness radiating off each plate that she'd put in serious effort—like a hidden boss pretending to be a tutorial enemy.
"I'll go ahead and eat."
After Hojo Shione offered a quick, graceful prayer, Shiratori Seiya picked up a piece of fish and popped it into his mouth.
The rich fragrance of scallions bloomed across his tongue, and he couldn't help but let out a surprised "Mm?"
He looked down at the dish, studying it carefully. Not a single visible trace of green scallion bits. None. Zero. Like they'd been erased by magic.
Hearing his confused hum, Hojo Shione paused with her chopsticks mid-air and followed his gaze to the plate. A quiet sense of satisfaction warmed her chest—her efforts hadn't been wasted. She smiled gently at him and explained:
"I know Seiya doesn't like the texture of scallions. But without the aroma, the dish always feels like it's missing something, right? So I sautéed the scallions in oil first to extract the fragrance..."
She paused, pursing her lips with a helpless little sigh.
"As for things like chili peppers... there's really nothing I can do about those. I know you can't handle spiciness—not even the smell of it."
Shiratori Seiya raised his gaze and met Hojo Shione's tender, shimmering eyes. For a moment, he felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing his heart—a classic rom-com tight-chest moment. But he kept his expression calm and said:
"You don't have to go through all that trouble. I'm not that picky. You should cook according to your own taste instead."
Hearing that, Hojo Shione didn't argue. She simply smiled softly as she watched him eat, then lowered her gaze to her own bowl.
My Seiya... How could I ever find anything about you troublesome?
If something this small felt like trouble to me... I wouldn't deserve to be here.
A comfortable silence settled over the table—the kind you see in cozy slice-of-life anime where no words are needed.
When they were almost finished eating, Shiratori Seiya suddenly stopped moving his chopsticks. He glanced at the girl across from him, thought for a moment, then asked:
"Shione."
"Hmm?"
Hearing him call her name, Hojo Shione casually poured a cup of tea and slid it over to him. She blinked her bright eyes—like a character waiting for a quest dialogue—and glanced at his empty rice bowl.
"What's wrong? Want another helping?"
"Ah, no thanks."
He paused, then continued: "I wanted to ask... back then, if your parents had strongly opposed you becoming a singer, what would you have done?"
"Hmm?"
Hojo Shione blinked, surprised. She tilted her head—the classic confused anime girl tilt—set down her chopsticks, and smiled.
"Why are you suddenly asking something like that?"
"No particular reason. Just curious."
Seeing that he wasn't going to explain further, Hojo Shione let out a long "Ah~" and then put on a thoughtful expression, like a character solving a mystery in episode five.
"Strongly opposed..."
She hesitated for a long moment, her slender fingers gently stroking her thighs under the table—a nervous habit she'd never quite shaken.
"Even if they strongly opposed... there'd still be all sorts of different reasons behind it, wouldn't there?"
"What if it was just prejudice against the profession itself?"
"Prejudice?"
Hojo Shione's eyebrows furrowed slightly. She thought carefully—like a strategist planning her next move—then said in a serious tone:
"If it were me... if it was something I'd already decided to do, I wouldn't care what my parents thought. Even though it sounds terrible for a daughter to say that... I am me."
Through her words, Shiratori Seiya could feel her rock-solid determination—the kind of resolve that makes shonen protagonists win final battles. He let out an impressed breath.
"That's some admirable conviction."
Sure enough... choosing Shione back then was both a blessing and a curse, wasn't it?
Once she sets her mind on something, she doesn't care what anyone else thinks. How wonderful it would be if she could just focus on her career and nothing else...
Feeling a little emotional, Shiratori Seiya continued: "But not everyone has the same level of resolve as you—the whole 'stick to your guns even if it means cutting ties with family' thing. Isn't there a way to have both? Like... eating your cake and still having it?" (Not that anyone actually knows how that saying works.)
"Have both?"
Hojo Shione's frown deepened. She found the idea a bit naive—like a rookie expecting to beat the final boss without grinding.
How can anything in this world let you have it both ways? If such a thing truly existed... I'd already be married to you with kids by now, Seiya.
If you don't have the resolve... it's better to give up early.
She took a deep breath and couldn't help saying: "The prejudice in people's hearts is like a mountain—you're not going to move it with talk alone. Don't go around foolishly thinking you can change someone else. You were the one who told me that, Seiya."
Perhaps feeling her words had come out a bit too sharp, Hojo Shione took a small sip of tea. Her emotions settled like calm water after a storm.
"Having said that... any real parent with a shred of humanity probably cares about their child deep down, right? If you genuinely can't reason with them... then there's nothing else to be done."
"Mm..."
Shiratori Seiya nodded thoughtfully.
Don't fight the atmosphere. Don't try to overturn the prejudices in people's hearts. He had told Shione those things.
Unless he used underhanded, no-holds-barred methods for this situation—the kind that would make a certain Light Yagami raise an eyebrow—even if he talked until he was blue in the face, it would ultimately come down to Mio's own choice.
Besides, his understanding of Mio's father was all secondhand hearsay. Whether the man was truly as rigid as rumored, and what his weaknesses were... he wouldn't know for sure until he investigated personally.
After watching Saori's competition, he'd approach the father himself first and see what kind of person he really was.
After all, everyone has their weak points—like a Pokemon with a four-times type disadvantage. If it really came down to it, he could use a few clever tactics... and just not tell Mio about them.
Watching Shiratori Seiya silently sip his tea, Hojo Shione thought for a moment, then tentatively asked:
"But, Seiya... why are you suddenly asking about all this? Is it because Takahashi-san's family doesn't approve of her becoming an actress?"
"Something like that."
Hearing Shiratori Seiya confirm it, Hojo Shione subconsciously narrowed her long eyes. The corners of her lips curved upward just slightly—a tiny, almost imperceptible smile. Then she nodded calmly and said:
"I see. That certainly sounds very troubling."
She paused, then added in a measured tone:
"But in this kind of situation... it still comes down to her choice, doesn't it?"
"If she truly believes in you and loves you... she definitely won't let you down, Seiya. She won't put you in an awkward position either..."
Her voice softened.
"At least... if it were me, I wouldn't put you in an awkward position..."
She suddenly let out a small, self-deprecating laugh.
"Speaking of which... I am really lucky. My parents mostly don't interfere with my choices. And it's also because I met you, Seiya, that I am where I am today..."
Hearing her subtly belittle herself again—like a character who can't stop negative self-talk—Shiratori Seiya frowned. He looked intently into her eyes and said seriously:
"It's not because you met me."
"I've said it many times. Even without me, you probably would've walked this path. Your talent for singing is the most incredible thing I've ever witnessed..."
But before he could finish, Hojo Shione smiled softly and interrupted him.
"It is because I met Seiya. If you insist it's not because of you... then you're actually underestimating yourself, aren't you?"
"Without Seiya... I'd probably just sing at karaoke and listen to my classmates tell me I sound nice."
"Seiya is very important."
Although Hojo Shione's words sounded gentle and soft, there was an unyielding firmness in her moist eyes—the kind of unwavering stare that makes the protagonist stop mid-monologue.
Shiratori Seiya paused, then smiled slightly. "So... the things you said you wanted to tell me before... were they something like this?"
"Eh?"
Hojo Shione's eyes went wide. A faint blush crept across her cheeks—the classic embarrassed heroine shade of pink. She averted her gaze in a fluster and said, "How could that be? Those words... I've only just barely worked up the courage to say them on Thursday."
"Alright, Seiya, are you finished eating? Then I'll start clearing up, okay?"
Before he could respond, she stood up and hurriedly began gathering the dishes, like a supporting character trying to escape an awkward confession scene. She clearly didn't want to continue that conversation any longer.
Shiratori Seiya helped her clean up. After placing the last set of dishes into the cupboard, Hojo Shione—still apparently terrified that he might bring up the previous topic again—said a quick "good night" and slipped out the door faster than a ninja using Body Flicker Technique.
After seeing Hojo Shione off, Shiratori Seiya showered and lay in bed. Just then, Saori called to update him on her day's schedule—typical girlfriend duties, like a daily quest reward. They chatted about various trivial things. During the call, she mentioned that she'd been eating with the school team recently, and although they went to decent restaurants, the food was nowhere near as good as what he cooked.
Over the phone, the phrase Saori said most often was, "Seiya, I miss you." It was her version of a signature move—spammed repeatedly for maximum emotional damage.
Everything she said subtly hinted at whether he would come to watch her competition tomorrow.
Finally, after receiving an affirmative answer—ding, quest accepted—even though they were half a city apart, Shiratori Seiya could hear through the phone just how happy she was. It was the kind of joy that makes you smile despite yourself.
Of course, Shiratori Seiya didn't tell her that Hojo Shione had moved in across from his house. She'd find out eventually when she came back anyway—no need to spoil her good mood now like a plot twist she wasn't ready for.
They talked until his phone battery was practically flashing red, and it was nearly midnight. He could hear a prompting sound from the other end of the line—probably her friend telling her to wrap it up.
Shiratori Seiya felt it was time and naturally said, "Good night. I'll definitely be there tomorrow."
Then, he hung up amidst Saori's reluctant, drawn-out "Okayyy..."—the kind of tone that screams I don't want this episode to end.
Lying in bed, Shiratori Seiya stared at the night sky outside for a while longer—counting constellations like a background character in a slow burn—before finally drifting off to sleep.
The next morning, Shiratori Seiya woke up with his internal body clock—more reliable than any alarm clock in anime.
Since he had told Shione that he'd be going to see Saori today, she didn't knock on his door this morning. One less social encounter to navigate, he thought.
Lying in bed, he checked the time and figured it was still early. He dozed off for a bit—just a quick power nap—and for the first time in what felt like forever, he slept until nine o'clock before getting up.
Embracing the classic "well, I've already missed my morning workout, so I might as well take a relaxing bath" logic, he emerged from the bathroom at almost ten o'clock. After eating a quick breakfast, he prepared to head to Saori's competition venue early.
However, just as he pulled up the train commute schedule on his phone, a message suddenly popped up.
"Takahashi Miki: Is this Shiratori-kun?"
Shiratori Seiya was initially confused—who's contacting me this early?—then realization hit, and he felt a bit helpless.
Sure enough... after finding out I'm a scriptwriter, she's thinking of asking me to help her land the lead role?
But on second thought, he was also puzzled. Wasn't Takahashi Miki's approach a bit too direct? Maybe even a little... dense? Like a character who skips all the side quests and heads straight to the final boss.
Logically, she should have first tested the waters through Mio, then come to him.
But no sooner had this thought crossed his mind than another message arrived from her.
"Are you free right now? Regarding some matters about Mio, if it's convenient, it would be clearer to discuss over the phone."
Mio?
Her words were completely different from what he had expected. Shiratori Seiya couldn't help but frown. After a moment's thought, he opened the app and typed back: "What is it?"
The moment the message was sent, a voice call popped up from her.
He pressed the answer button, and her slightly hoarse voice—like she'd just woken up or hadn't slept well—came through the receiver: "Shiratori-kun?"
"It's me. Takahashi-san, may I ask what this is about Mio?"
"Hmm..."
Takahashi Miki paused for two seconds on the phone—a dramatic beat worthy of a season finale—and then said, "Although Mio told me not to tell you... I don't think this is something she can handle alone. I still need to tell you, Shiratori-kun."
"Mio should have gone home this morning. She... plans to confess to aunt and uncle about wanting to become an actress..."
"What?!"
Hearing those words, Shiratori Seiya's grip tightened on his phone, his tone suddenly sharp as a katana. "What exactly happened?"
Seemingly startled by his sudden intensity—like a protagonist activating his serious mode—Takahashi Miki was silent for a moment on the phone before continuing.
"Actually... the night you took me home... and yesterday, Mio talked to me..."