[Same as always at noon. I'll wait for you on the rooftop.]
Monday.
Morning.
At Soubu High, in one of the classrooms.
A faint vibration caught her attention. Sitting at her desk, Kasumigaoka Utaha pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen.
It was a message from Saejima Saeko.
Since entering the same school, their friendship had deepened considerably.
At least, that's how Utaha saw it.
They had more opportunities to spend time together. Conversations weren't limited to narrow topics anymore—they ranged freely across all sorts of subjects, casual and lively.
And on top of that…
It wasn't just her imagination. Saeko seemed to be subtly playing matchmaker between her and Minamoto Senya.
From Utaha's perspective, initially, it was just Saeko suggesting that Senya help her out of a difficult situation. That alone wouldn't be enough to draw that conclusion.
But afterward, Saeko continued, from time to time, to steer conversations toward her interactions with Senya, sometimes even deliberately starting video calls.
Though she appeared nonchalant, it was clear to Utaha that she was deliberately directing the topic toward how Utaha and Senya were getting along.
It was easy—almost effortless—to come to this conclusion.
From the very moment she noticed, Utaha had mentally crowned Saeko as her first, and perhaps her forever, irreplaceable best friend.
Senya didn't count—he had his own uniquely exclusive role.
The only downside was that her best friend's taste in avatars left something to be desired.
Saejima's profile picture was an unnamed flower in full bloom.
Its garish colors reminded Utaha of the middle-aged housewives her mother had in her contacts.
But such trivialities didn't diminish the purity of their friendship.
[Got it.]
Utaha typed back, unconsciously adding a slightly cute suffix—after all, besides Senya, Saeko was currently her favorite person.
By noon, Utaha brushed her long hair aside and made her way to the school rooftop.
Spotting the familiar figure, she quickened her pace with a smile.
"Saeko, sorry to keep you waiting."
Saejima returned her smile and patted the bench beside her.
Once Utaha sat down, Saeko pulled out two bento boxes from her tote—one for herself, and one for Utaha.
"Thanks, Saeko."
"No problem. It was no trouble at all—just convenient to make, really. Don't know if it'll suit your taste, though."
"I've seen your cooking before; I think it's even better than some professional restaurants."
Utaha opened her bento.
And it was true.
In a previous casual conversation, Saeko had mentioned she'd been interested in cooking since third grade and had been practicing ever since.
Years of experience had refined her skills to an impressively high level.
Inside the bento: multigrain rice, shrimp, tamagoyaki, broccoli, and pan-seared beef.
"I took a small shortcut yesterday—didn't go to the market—so no extra ingredients for soup. Today, this will have to do."
Utaha couldn't help laughing when she saw the two cartons of milk Saeko pulled out.
Now the meal had protein, eggs, and dairy—everything complete.
Utaha had always been dismissive of the "Yamato Nadeshiko" ideal revered in Japan—thinking it was just an oppressive ideology imposed by patriarchal society.
But now, being cared for by gentle, considerate Saeko, she found herself instantly discarding her old prejudice.
She sincerely thought…
The Yamato Nadeshiko ideal really is amazing.
"By the way, Utaha, Senya's visit to the school worked out, right?"
"Yes, thanks to your suggestion, no one's been slipping mysterious love notes or gifts into my locker or drawers anymore."
"That wasn't me, that's all Senya. If you want to thank anyone, thank him."
"Of course, I understand."
Hehe~
Saeko was at it again—truly concerned about the progress between her and Senya.
Utaha remembered a summer night when they had watched fireworks together. Back then, she'd irrationally seen Saeko as a rival, thinking she might come between her and Senya.
She had been young and naive, overreacting.
Now she realized it wasn't like that at all.
What she had misread as hints of romantic interest between Saeko and Senya was likely just normal interactions between schoolmates.
From Utaha's perspective, if Saeko had truly had any romantic feelings for Senya, she wouldn't have been actively trying to set them up.
Therefore, her current behavior confirmed that Saeko had no such feelings.
Perhaps she once did, but not anymore.
Utaha assumed that after entering the same school, Saeko recognized her personality charm and saw her genuine affection for Senya.
After careful consideration, she chose friendship over ambiguous romantic feelings, stepping back and supporting them.
Utaha's reasoning made sense under normal circumstances.
Unfortunately, she didn't know that Saeko wasn't a normal person to begin with.
She didn't realize that in Saeko's mind, Utaha was gradually becoming an irreplaceable substitute—someone who could never fully match Senya's intense, nearly inhuman enthusiasm—and yet was still the perfect partner she could rely on.
High above, on the rooftop, Utaha stood under a clear blue sky.
She felt like she was at the top of the world, seeing everything clearly.
Little did she know, thousands of meters above, hidden behind the clouds, floated a "sky city."
And Saeko was the true observer, looking down calmly, taking in everything below.
"Don't waste anything. Finish all your food, and drink all the milk too."
Saeeko's careful instructions made Utaha momentarily imagine her as her mother, who often scolded her like this at home.
But unlike her mother's commands, which Utaha sometimes resisted, she nodded willingly this time.
Even though the bento was plenty for her small appetite, and she knew finishing it all might leave her feeling stuffed, she happily replied, "Got it!"
Saeeko usually cared about wasting food—but only for herself.
Others' habits weren't her concern.
But now, with Utaha in front of her, Saeko wanted to help her get enough nutrition to strengthen her weak physique.
From the classroom windows, Saeko had often seen Utaha at the bottom during PE class.
Even if it was a bit last-minute, Saeko still wanted to do her part.
"Utaha, my dad's been home a lot recently."
"Yeah, you mentioned it."
"Because of that, many guests have visited, each bringing gifts."
"Your dad's a leading figure in kendo, right? It's natural he's respected."
"They're just formalities. That's not what I mean. Do you have time after school today?"
"Yes. As usual, I'll finish my homework, check some reader letters, then work on my next novel volume. A bit later getting home is fine."
"Then come over to my house. My father's old friend runs a seafood business and brought several boxes of Aomori abalone. Take one home for my uncle and aunt to try."
"That sounds expensive… Are you sure?"
"No worries. It's just Dad and me, and we couldn't finish them anyway. Also, could you do me a favor? I haven't had time recently—when you go to Senya's, bring a box for him too."
"…"
"Utaha?"
"…Haa."
Utaha exhaled slowly.
Not only was Saeko helping with her and Senya's relationship, she'd even arranged a reason for her to visit.
If this were her real mother, it wouldn't be much different.
"Got it," Utaha nodded. She knew she had to take initiative.
Forget the guy abroad for now.
For now, she couldn't let down Saeko's expectations.
She had to work on becoming a sweet couple with Senya, the best way to repay Saeko's kindness.
Saeeko smiled gently. "Thanks for helping."
"No, I'm the one troubling you."
Saeeko's birthday was next month. Utaha had already decided to prepare a truly thoughtful gift to honor their irreplaceable friendship.
Human desires are many.
Appetite.
Material wants.
…And the urge to sneak into her stepbrother's room when no one else was home to read his diary.
No, that wasn't entirely fair to call it that.
There was a legitimate reason: by reading his diary, she could better understand what Senya was thinking and care for him more effectively.
So what might seem improper was, in fact, a sign of their closeness.
Every time Takanashi Tohka opened Senya's diary, she had a mental struggle—reminding herself it was okay to peek.
Over time, that struggle became instantaneous, more a formality than an actual conflict.
By May, Tohka usually got home first—no club activities, no part-time job, and intentionally walking fast.
Today was no different.
"Mom?"
"Senya?"
"Rikka?"
Confirming the house was empty, she went to the second floor.
Let's see… did Senya update his diary yesterday?
She opened the door, lifted the blanket, and picked up the diary in one fluid motion.
She flipped it open and her eyes lit up.
Senya had not only written, but filled an entire page with dense entries.
She took a photo with her phone, put the diary back, and returned to her room to read it carefully.
[April 30]
The weather's nice today, and I'm in a good mood.
Besides my writing and other work going smoothly, there's another reason.
I've finally figured out my relationship with Tohka.
Yes. All this time, I've been tangled up over our familial identity, forgetting we aren't related by blood.
The law clearly prohibits marriage between direct relatives or within three generations of collateral relatives.
But Tohka and I have no such relation. We could marry without issue…
…
Tohka held her phone, cheeks warm.
Was it the May heat, or Senya's diary entry?
Having secretly read his diary for so long, she still admired him.
His handwriting was elegant, his ideas and reasoning impressively clear, with references and examples—even excessively so.
For instance, this latest entry.
To convince himself, he referenced tales of Hikaru Genji from The Tale of Genji, historical disputes among Japanese emperors, and modern real-life examples of step-siblings marrying successfully, down to names and dates.
Tohka paused to verify one example online—it was indeed real, though in a foreign language she couldn't read.
The photos, however—the couples and their smiling guests—confirmed what Senya had written: no need to worry.
Modern society accepts love, even between step-siblings.
Tohka reopened the diary, focusing intently.
What she didn't realize was that some words weren't just Senya persuading himself—they were a subtle message for her, too.
"Something good happen today? You're smiling so brightly."
At the Kawaramizu Middle School gate, Kudou Miyoko asked Senya as he left school.
"Probably because Miyoko-nee looked stunning today. I couldn't help but smile."
The city lady in front of him wore vibrant red lipstick, a light gray blazer, and a fitted skirt showing a slender waist and curvy hips, plus sheer tights enhancing her legs—a perfect combination for catching male attention.
"Hmph, don't just flatter me. Get in the car."
Despite her words, she smiled genuinely.
As she got into the driver's seat, she glimpsed Senya transferring over a million yen via phone—but she didn't ask.
Once the car started, Senya finished the transfer, deleted the record, and adjusted his collar and the air conditioning vent.
Miyoko turned the AC to maximum.
"The weather's really heating up, huh."
"Yes, the forecast said today's high is earlier than usual."
"When's your work done today?"
"Just a simple signing event at a new mall to attract visitors. Two hours at most, easy work today."
"I see." Miyoko glanced at the young boss in the passenger seat. "Plans after that?"
"Yes." Senya nodded solemnly. "I want to formally thank you for taking care of me all this time. I want to treat you to dinner tonight. Oh, and you're wrist is bare—I want to get you a gift. Do you prefer a bracelet or a watch?"
"Stop joking. I don't need gifts. Working with you is thanks enough. Normally, companies delay salaries, but you even pay early. I'm grateful enough."
"I feel we're especially compatible, Miyoko-nee. I foresee a long working relationship, so naturally, I won't treat you as an outsider."
"Alright, stop talking. What's making you so happy today that you're sweet-talking me like this?"
"It's because of you, Miyoko-nee…"
"Enough repeating yourself."
She braked smoothly at a red light.
Not being treated as an outsider struck her heart. This wasn't just work recognition—it was validation as a person.
Already showing managerial skill at such a young age… Miyoko smiled wryly and mentioned an upcoming job:
"Next Saturday, there's a great opportunity. If it's fine, I'll confirm tomorrow."
"What kind of work?"
"BAPE magazine wants you for a summer men's fashion shoot. Contract is simple."
"Just a photoshoot?"
"Yes. Photos will be used in magazines, online, and for store promotions. Payment is generous, given your fame."
Miyoko handed Senya a notebook with details and payment.
He nodded. "Generous indeed."
"And the shoot location is a brand-new beach, not open to the public yet. After work, the hotel is on them, and you're welcome to bring your family."
"A beach…"
Senya's eyes lit up—perfect timing; he'd been thinking along similar lines.