"Haa..."
Hearing the voice, Shiraishi Shin sat up and yawned; even a short nap helped.
Seeing him awake, Chitoge Kirisaki propped her cheek on her hand and whispered, "Monitor, didn't you sleep well last night?"
Shiraishi Shin nodded. "A bit of insomnia—didn't fall asleep until two-thirty. By the way, did you tell your family about yesterday? If they fail once, they might try kidnapping you again."
Chitoge said, "I told them. My father went straight after them; ever since we arrived in Japan it's been obvious who's jumping around and who'd grab me to send a message."
"Good."
Then, looking bashful, Chitoge murmured, "Th-thank you for saving me, Monitor... and for caring."
Shiraishi Shin smiled. "It's nothing—after all, I'm the class rep."
Bathed in that bright, handsome smile, Chitoge lowered her head, silent, her heart racing out of control.
Only memories of last night dampened her mood: her father had whisked her away early to "meet someone."
He'd taken her to the biggest yakuza family in town—the Ichijō clan—and explained that a turf-and-business war was about to erupt between a mafia clan and this gang.
To prevent bloodshed, she and the yakuza heir were to pose as lovers; with that bond, no one would dare fight. Chitoge had stood there dumbfounded.
Her own family ran the all-powerful Beehive Family in the States—why come to Japan and suddenly play nice with local thugs? Nine-tenths of it felt wrong.
Though the young yakuza heir had agreed, Chitoge's mind kept drifting to Shiraishi Shin; inexplicably, she felt a surge of defiance and flatly refused—even a fake relationship was out.
So what if we're mafia? Bring it on. She was used to it—Beehive always won.
After her refusal, her father admitted with some embarrassment that the "impending war" was largely a pretext to set her up with the yakuza scion.
He and the Ichijō patriarch went way back; the plan was a sham romance that would blossom into the real thing. Who knew Chitoge would balk so hard? The matter died then and there.
Chitoge recalled her father's final words last night:
"Chitoge, you were never this rebellious before. Could it be you've found someone at your new school—someone you like—and that's why you can't stomach even a fake relationship?"
Chitoge clutched her head and shook it. "No way! He's just the monitor—how could I like him? Besides, he and Mahiru are so close he's practically taken. Why would I—no, no, no! Why does Dad mentioning a crush make me think of the monitor in the first place?"
"Kirisaki-san, what's wrong? Headache?"
The teacher at the podium called out to Chitoge, who was shaking her head wildly, and the whole class turned to look.
Mortified that her inner drama had spilled into reality, she stood, rubbing the back of her neck. "Sorry, sensei, I'm fine—please continue."
"All right. Let me know if you feel unwell."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good, sit down."
"Yes, sensei."
Back in her seat, Chitoge slumped and buried her face in her desk, drained. Sensing a gaze, she glanced over—Shiraishi Shin. Their eyes met; she whipped her head away.
"...???"
Three question marks floated above Shiraishi Shin —when had he ever offended her?
"Ahem."
A deliberate cough came from his left, followed by a murmur in russian: "Turn around and talk to me."
Shiraishi Shin asked, "Alya, what did you say?"
"I said—you're an idiot."
Alya rarely snapped at him, but yesterday he'd asked her to be his "wings" and then never mentioned it again—utterly exasperating.
"??"
Shiraishi Shin tilted his head. What was with this woman? Impossible to read.
"Hmph."
Alya turned away, ignoring him. Shiraishi Shin scratched his head—was she treating him like a toy?
Two uneventful days passed. No Zodiarts appeared on campus; off-campus a Kaijin showed up, but before Shiraishi Shin could reach it the signal vanished—either Kamen Rider W had beaten it or it fled.
Today was Saturday, normally a day off, but Seirei Academy's first- and second-years had to spend the weekend at Summer Camp, assembly at nine sharp.
That morning Shiraishi Shin went for a jog, grabbed a quick breakfast off-campus, and was heading home up a sloping street. He glanced at his watch—only seven-thirty, plenty of time.
A breeze carried a white beret downhill; Shiraishi Shin simply reached out and caught it.
"This..."
The familiar scene reminded him of an anime opening from his past life. He looked up—sure enough, a "background heroine" had spawned at the top of the slope.
She wore a red jacket over a white one-piece, her fair legs bare. Not as stunning as Mahiru, Alya, Chitoge, or Okada Yuriko, she was still prettier than most—and the more you looked, the lovelier she became.
(Image Kato Megumi)
Calling her a "background heroine" wasn't about looks—she was solid tier-2 beauty—but her presence was so faint most people wouldn't notice her unless she spoke; even then they'd forget her seconds later.
"Sorry—my hat was blown off."
Megumi Kato stood at the top of the slope, saw her beret caught, and jogged down.
Shiraishi Shin handed it back with a smile. "A strong gust just now—lucky it landed in my hands instead of on the ground; white shows every speck of dust."
"True, white is hopeless with dust. Thank you."
Megumi took in his handsome, spring-breeze smile; on first meeting he'd already earned sixty percent of her goodwill.
Shiraishi Shin asked casually, "No problem. Heading up or down?"
"Up. I'd reached the top and meant to go east when the wind sent my hat flying back."