In truth, Takanashi Junko hadn't come to visit the Tōma household today purely because of Tōma Yōko's invitation.
If she had to be honest, that invitation only accounted for a small part of it.
The main reason was that Junko's mother had already been planning to come here herself. After all, her son had been staying under their roof for two whole weeks. Even if it had been due to unavoidable circumstances, the fact remained that he had been eating and living in someone else's home all that time. Gratitude had to be properly expressed.
She certainly hadn't expected, though, that when she arrived with a gift in hand, she would hear such extraordinary praise about Senya spilling straight from Tōma Yōko's lips.
And in the field of piano, no less—a field where Yōko had already achieved remarkable accomplishments.
Words like "a once-in-a-century genius" were not the kind of thing one just threw around lightly.
Junko was left stunned.
The real problem was, she had never once heard her husband say anything about Senya having studied piano when he was younger. Wasn't it only last year, around Christmas, that Senya had first started showing any real interest in the instrument?
She'd heard him play—simple little pieces at best. There was no way that matched up to the level Yōko was describing.
So just what exactly had happened to him during those two weeks confined at the Tōma residence?
"Please have some tea, Auntie."
At that moment, Tōma Kazusa brought over a tray.
Her back was perfectly straight, long, silky black hair flowing down to her waist. Her steps were light and graceful. After setting down the tea, she bowed her head slightly, resting her hands neatly on her lap. She was the very picture of composure.
"Ah, thank you, Kazusa-chan," Junko replied quickly.
"You don't need to thank me, Auntie… Th-this is a black tea that my mother and I often drink together. We both really like it. Please, try it."
"Oh? Is that so~?"
Junko smiled as she lifted the cup. The water was still steaming hot, too hot to sip right away, but the gentle fragrance of the tea drifted up clearly to her nose.
"Mmm, it smells wonderful already."
Seeing Senya's mother satisfied, Kazusa allowed a faint smile to touch her lips.
Junko studied the girl with quiet interest. This wasn't her first time meeting Kazusa. They had already seen each other on New Year's Eve when Senya had brought her to their home.
But… was Kazusa like this back then?
As Junko remembered, the girl had seemed much more reserved. At the dinner table, whenever Junko or her husband spoke kindly to her, Kazusa had responded nervously, with short, hesitant replies.
In fact, compared to Busujima Saeko—another girl Senya had brought home—Kazusa had come across as rather timid.
Yet now…
Though the feeling of shyness was still there, it was clear she was deliberately pushing herself, suppressing that nature.
Almost as if—Junko couldn't help but think—it was a conscious effort to be more likable.
Which, of course, only made Junko wonder again about what exactly had happened during those two weeks.
She chatted a little longer with Yōko, but it was already getting late. Junko ended the visit with a polite smile, saying she needed to "talk things over with her husband and son" before making any decisions.
By the time she arrived home, it was nearly eleven o'clock at night.
If she hadn't turned down Yōko's insistence on calling her a taxi, she probably would've gotten back earlier. But Junko had never been the sort to take advantage of others without reason—it made her uneasy inside. The train was perfectly fine. Cheap, reliable. Getting home late was no problem.
And unlike in the past, she wasn't alone in carrying the household anymore. With other family members to rely on, there was no need to worry about the two sisters.
"I'm home," she called softly, keeping her voice low.
The living room light was still on. She assumed it was her husband waiting up for her—yet her son was there as well, clearly not asleep.
"Senya, it's late. Why aren't you resting yet?"
"I heard from Dad that you were invited to the Tōma house. I was curious… what did you two talk about?"
"Quite a lot, actually," she replied with a wry smile. "But most of it… was about you."
"Hmm…"
Perched primly on a chair with her legs pressed together and her arms crossed, Takanashi Toka let out a thoughtful sound. Her eyes fixed firmly on Minamoto Senya, who was propped up against the headboard stifling a yawn, as if trying to work out some puzzle.
After a moment of consideration, she gave her conclusion:
"So, in other words—during those two weeks stuck at the Tōma residence, you threw yourself entirely into studying with the daughter of a world-class pianist. Under the guidance of a professional, you accidentally uncovered your own hidden talent for piano. In just two short weeks, your progress was so staggering that even an expert like Tōma Yōko was astonished. She even went as far as inviting Mom over last night to ask if you'd become her student."
"That's about right," Senya said simply.
It was already the next morning.
Toka hadn't intended to disturb her stepbrother's sleep, but overhearing a few words exchanged by their parents at the front door before leaving had left her curiosity burning. She had used "time to eat breakfast" as her excuse to wake him, though the truth was obvious.
"Hmmmm~" she hummed, crossing one leg over the other, her white cotton slippers dangling idly from her toes.
If anyone else had told her such a story, she would've thought they were bragging.
But with Senya… strangely, she found herself believing it without a second thought.
Was that what people called trust? She wasn't sure.
Still, it didn't stop her from asking the next question.
"That woman is an internationally renowned champion, practically the hottest figure in Japan's piano world right now. What are you going to do about it?"
What am I going to do…? Right now, I'd rather just sleep a bit longer.
Last night, after talking with his mom until past midnight, Senya had barely made it back to his room when Utaha caught him online. She had wanted his feedback on a plot idea, claiming she was considering adding it to her upcoming novel.
But their call had wandered onto all sorts of other topics. Before he knew it, it was one in the morning.
After sparring with Saeko all day, his body had been exhausted. And now, to be woken up early by Toka…
Really, it was enough to make him nostalgic for the monotony of quarantine—at least back then, things had been simpler.
"What can I say? I promised Saeko I'd compete in the Yūryūki tournament. That's where my focus has to be right now."
In other words, as much as Yōko's offer tempted him, he had no choice but to turn it down—for now.
Toka had already heard bits of this from him last night, and even more details from Rikka before bed. Like the fact that Saeko had gone out of her way to secure this opportunity for Senya, even at her own expense.
What a good girl, Toka thought. Even as an onlooker, she couldn't help but admire Saeko. If she were a boy, she might have wanted to marry her herself.
So it made sense, really, that Senya had started calling her by name without the "senpai" attached.
Still… why did that leave her with a faint, inexplicable sense of loss?
She turned her gaze out the window. "Anyway, don't push yourself too hard."
She had looked up information about the Yūryūki last night. The footage of last year's champions had been shocking—teams of cropped-haired, prison-inmate-looking guys, running laps around the field with tires strapped to their waists.
It was hard not to worry.
But no matter how uneasy she felt, Toka wasn't about to say anything discouraging to Senya's face.
"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."
"You look exhausted. Want to sleep more?"
"That'd be nice. Just… let me hit the bathroom first."
"Then I won't set aside breakfast for you just yet."
"Go ahead and eat without me."
She nodded, standing and walking toward the door. Pausing, she looked back at him, still sitting unmoving in bed.
"Didn't you say you needed the bathroom? Why aren't you moving?"
"…"
Oh, I'd love to move, but… not with this tent pitched under the blanket.
"…I sleep naked," he said bluntly.
Toka froze for two seconds, her eyes flicking to his properly buttoned pajama top. Then she nodded silently and left, closing the door behind her.
Only outside did she finally let out a quiet breath, her cheeks blooming crimson.
When Senya eventually stumbled back from the bathroom and collapsed into bed, he had barely managed to drift off again before Toka opened the door for the second time.
Her stepbrother's expression made it clear: if she didn't have a good reason, she was about to learn firsthand the meaning of gekokujō, Japan's "the-lower-overcomes-the-upper" tradition.
"What are you saying, idiot? We have a guest. That pianist lady is here."
Tōma Yōko had shown up unannounced, and her purpose couldn't have been more obvious.
She wanted Senya as her disciple—her second disciple, after Kazusa.
Senya didn't particularly like the number two, but he couldn't deny that the future she painted for him was dazzling.
Once his skills matured, she promised, she could use her own networks to pave the way for him: personal concerts, exclusive tutoring, classical piano albums, brand collaborations. Every detail had been thought out.
This woman knew exactly where to strike.
For a moment, even Senya found himself tempted—what if he did cling to her, rode that momentum, and stepped fully into the world of classical music?
Even Toka, sitting beside them, found herself getting swept up by the glittering vision Yōko laid out.
But in the end, Senya held firm. For now, he had already chosen his priority.
He refused her politely.
Yōko, though clearly frustrated, respected his decision. Much like Busujima Dairō had once been, she was worried about wasting his extraordinary talent, but there was nothing to be done.
Still, just before leaving, she added with a smile:
"Even if you're busy with kendo, you'll have some free time, won't you? Your mother is my friend, and Kazusa is your friend. Feel free to bring your sisters along and visit anytime."
Senya nodded. He understood.
And so, his life settled back into the rhythm he'd known in the latter half of last year.
Mornings were spent attending online classes from home. His own attention wandering didn't matter much—but he had to watch Rikka like a hawk. The girl had always been sloppy with her studies, and without a teacher in the room, her self-discipline wasn't nearly enough.
Afternoons were devoted to kendo training with Saeko.
They had studied footage from past Yūryūki tournaments, gauging the level of competition. The conclusion was obvious: high schoolers were stronger, faster, and far more experienced than the opponents they had faced before.
But both Senya and Saeko still felt confident.
That didn't mean they slacked off.
As the saying went: Look down on the enemy in strategy, but respect them in tactics.
Knowing that the Kawarami Kendo Club had no especially outstanding members besides them, they doubled down on training. Half their time went into honing technique; the other half into building stamina and endurance.
Saeko had even prepared heavy wooden practice swords for them—four kilograms for her, six for him. Much heavier than competition shinai. Swinging them day after day left their muscles aching with lactic acid at first, but gradually, their bodies adapted. Their swing counts grew higher and higher.
By the end of January, on the very day of Utaha's birthday, the government announced good news: with international assistance, a flu vaccine had passed testing and small-scale trials. Mass production had begun, and distribution to public health offices was scheduled to start by mid-February.
Senya continued visiting the Tōma house every few days, though never for long. Even so, Kazusa's teacher was clearly displeased that her pupil had been neglecting the piano. She no longer sat by his side correcting his posture, her displeasure obvious.
But that was a minor matter. On the whole, everything was going well. Not just for Senya, but for everyone around him.
Utaha's new volume of Love Metronome, released in late January, had sold far beyond expectations. The initial boost from Senya's tournament victory had long faded, which meant this success was entirely her own. Proof of her true ability.
And then, at the start of February, the Minamoto family finally found time to accept the long-standing invitation from the Sawamura household.
…