1
April. The season of new beginnings.
Students, feeling a bit more grown-up with their advancement to the next grade or school, and new employees, puffing out their chests with pride at joining society. Watching them brim with excitement for their new lives out of the corner of my eye, I headed to the job center.
It had been a little over a week since I returned to my hometown. I’d been scouring the job center for work, but I hadn’t found the one yet.
The problem?
Every job listing was too perfect! I was spoiled for choice!
Arriving at the job center, I immediately glued myself to the job search computer. The sheer number of amazing listings made my head spin.
“What? Over a hundred days off a year? That’s, like, almost two days off every week with a fifty-two-week year!”
My old company gave us one day off a week, with about two days of mandatory overtime a month.
“What? This company pays for overtime?!”
I thought overtime pay was some mythical concept from a fantasy world.
“What? This company gives annual raises?!”
My old boss swore salaries stayed flat for a decade as a matter of course.
“Hmm…”
Every company looked appealing, but I came back to reset my life, so I couldn’t afford to compromise.
For now, I’d take some promising job listings home to think them over.
Walking back, I stopped in front of the house next to ours. The Haruyama house—no, it wasn’t the Haruyama house anymore. The nameplate read Nakano.
Yesterday, my mother told me the Nakano family had moved out too, and the house was currently empty. That house was filled with memories of that brat. Knowing the noisy days of our past, it felt a little lonely.
“I wonder how they’re doing,” I muttered.
Where was Miya now? What was she up to? Mahiru and Asuka, too. All I could picture were their childish faces from my memories.
I headed home from the shop.
“I’m back.”
“Welcome home,” my mother said, grinning at me.
“What’s with that look? Hm?”
A high school girl in a uniform sat alone at the counter, sipping a black iced coffee. Her long brown hair and slender figure caught my eye. When she glanced my way, her face seemed familiar.
“Oh!”
It was the girl who returned my wallet the other day.
She noticed me too and gave a small bow, saying, “H-Hello.”
She moved her school bag from the chair next to her to the floor.
“Coming from school?” I asked.
“Well, it’s still spring break, but I had club activities.”
Wearing her uniform suggested she was in a cultural club.
“Care to sit?” she offered.
She was inviting me to sit next to her. My mother’s grin was annoying, but I had no reason to refuse.
I sat down beside her.
Up close, she was insanely cute.
And she had this dizzying, pleasant scent—ugh, what am I thinking? She’s a high school girl! Getting worked up over a high schooler makes me some kind of creep, doesn’t it?
“Thanks again for the wallet,” I said.
“N-No problem,” she replied.
Her voice was clear and sweet, like a chirping bird.
“This is my family’s place, so it’s on me. I never got to properly thank you.”
“Oh, no, that’s too much.”
“It’s fine, really.”
“But I have a discount coupon, so…”
“Oh? You come here often?”
“…Yes, about two or three times a week.”
She’s practically a regular!
That explained it. I nodded in understanding.
“So that’s how you knew where I live, right? Arigetsu’s a rare surname around here—probably just us in town.”
“Yes, I, um, took the liberty of checking your driver’s license. I hope that wasn’t rude.”
“Rude? Not at all!”
Her eyes, gazing up at me from a slight angle, pierced my heart.
God, she’s too cute.
＊
No, no, no!
He’s so dense!
Oba-san was staring at me with that smug grin.
She’s enjoying this like it’s someone else’s problem!
“By the way, I didn’t catch your name,” Yuu-nii said suddenly.
“Wha—?”
What should I do?
My name.
It’s the one thing that hasn’t changed in ten years.
The symbol that could connect the current me to the kid I used to be, the perfect chance to shatter Yuu-nii’s mistaken perception.
But saying my real name now would feel like admitting defeat…
“I’m Arigetsu Yuu,” he said.
I know that!
“Um, I’m…”
Oh no, Oba-san looks like she’s about to burst out laughing.
She’s waiting for it.
She wants to see me say my name and watch Yuu-nii freak out.
“I-I’m—”
A mix of nerves and excitement made my body temperature spike.
To Yuu-nii, it was probably just a casual question, but my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it.
This oblivious idiot.
I could tell Oji-san and Oba-san were stealing glances at us, concerned—well, Oba-san was probably just amused.
Using a fake name felt wrong. I didn’t want to lie to Yuu-nii.
But saying my name myself? No way.
What should I do…
Memories of those nostalgic days with Yuu-nii flashed through my mind like a slideshow.
That’s it!
Those memories reminded me of the mischievous spark I had as a kid.
“It’s a secret,” I said.
Yuu-nii looked dumbfounded.
“Huh?”
I turned to face him, smiling.
“May I call you Yuu-san?”
It had been a while since I felt this way.
The nostalgic thrill of teasing and toying with Yuu-nii.
“Sure, I guess,” he said.
“Then, Yuu-san, let’s play a little game. If you win, I’ll do anything you ask.”
“Anything? Wait, a game?”
“Yes. No time limit. Try to guess my name.”
＊
“You get one guess per day. If you manage to guess my name correctly, I’ll do anything you want.”
“Huh? What?”
I just asked for her name, and now I’m in some kind of showdown with a high school girl.
Wait, why?
“What happens if I don’t guess it?” I asked.
“Then you’ll face a penalty game. Go ahead, take your shot.”
“Take my shot?” I repeated. I barely knew her—how was I supposed to guess her name?
I shot a pleading glance at my mother. She was covering her mouth, barely holding back laughter.
“Of course, asking someone else in secret is against the rules,” the girl added.
“Ugh…”
Fine, a wild guess then.
“Alright…” I said.
A strange tension filled the shop.
What’s her goal here? Or does she just not want to tell me her name?
“Sairenji Madoka, maybe?”
“…”
“…”
“Wrong.”
“Figured.”
“Now for the penalty game.”
She reached out and slipped her hands under my armpits.
“!?”
And then she started tickling me.
“Pfft, hahaha!”
Her fingers danced under my arms, the ticklish sensation mixing with the forbidden thrill of being touched by a high school girl, heightening my sensitivity… Wait, am I a pervert?
“Fff, hihihihi!”
“Endure it. It’s the penalty game,” she said, looking up at me with a suppressed grin.
“Ugh, hahahaha!”
After a thorough tickling, she stopped with a satisfied look.
“Phew, I worked up a sweat from all that tickling. Until we meet again,” she said, leaving the shop.
“Sairenji Madoka? Pfft, what kind of name is that? No way,” my mother said, collapsing onto a table, shoulders shaking with laughter.
“Shut up! She’s got that refined, high-class vibe, so I thought it fit! Anyway, I’m so confused. Mom, you know who she is, don’t you?”
“I do, but telling you would break the rules.”
What the heck?
My armpits were burning. No, my whole body was burning.
Even after she left, the heat in my body didn’t fade.
No, no, she’s a high school girl. These feelings are practically a crime.
But…
“She’s a regular here, right?”
“Yep. Might show up again tomorrow. By the way, how’d the job center go? Find anything good?”
“Oh, yeah. Everything’s so perfect I can’t decide.”
I sat at a nearby table and pulled the job listings from my bag.
“Don’t you have any preferences? Like salary or hours?” my mother asked.
“Hmm, not really, but if I had to say, I’d want at least one solid day off a week, no last-minute weekend call-ins, usable paid leave, proper overtime pay, and a boss who doesn’t scream or throw punches.”
“What kind of company were you working for…?” she muttered.
I spread the job listings on the table, comparing them.
“Well, it’s your life, so think it through carefully. I’m taking a break,” she said, calling out to my father before heading upstairs.
“…!”
Wait a second.
Come to think of it, wasn’t the whitest job of all right here at ‘Moonlight Terrace’? The second floor is our house, so the commute is basically nonexistent, and there’s no overtime. The staff is just family, so no workplace drama. Plus, we get two days off a week.
I’m almost thirty. Rather than joining some company mid-career, taking over the family business might offer a more stable life.
“Hey, Mom!” I called.
She poked her head out from the stairs.
“Hm?”
“Dad, you too.”
My father turned from behind the counter.
“I’m gonna take over the shop.”
＊
2
From then on, I started working at ‘Moonlight Terrace’ as an apprentice. I’d helped out casually during high school, but I had no real experience in the service industry. Unlike my previous sales job, dealing with a diverse range of customers was both refreshing and exhausting. The customer base and busyness varied by time of day, so managing time was key.
Still, as an apprentice, my main tasks were chores.
“Yuu, wash these,” my mother said.
“Got it.”
I carried the dirty dishes to the sink and started washing.
But my mind kept drifting to that beautiful girl from yesterday.
Getting roped into a name-guessing game? I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.
Guessing the name of someone I just met without any hints? That’s not even a game—it’s impossible.
She didn’t give me multiple-choice options or any clues tied to her name. And if I got it wrong, I’d face a penalty game to boot.
Why would she propose such a game in the first place? That question intrigued me more than her actual name.
She was kind enough to return my wallet, but she wouldn’t tell me her name.
And she’s a regular here, apparently on friendly terms with my parents.
How does that even make sense?
Grumbling to myself, I diligently worked as an apprentice at ‘Moonlight Terrace’.
I swear it wasn’t because I thought working here would give me more chances to see her. And it definitely wasn’t some sleazy hope of getting closer to her.
“Once you’re done with the dishes, clean the bathroom. Don’t forget to restock the toilet paper. Then sweep the front,” my mother instructed briskly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Whether I was washing dishes, scrubbing the toilet, or sweeping outside, her face kept popping into my mind.
Long brown hair, big eyes, sharp cheekbones, a high nose, faintly cherry-colored lips, and a chest so full it could rival a melon. Silky white skin and a warm, soothing voice.
She was leagues cuter than any idol.
Thinking about her made my heart race for some reason.
Could I really be falling for a girl almost a decade younger than me?
Sure, she’s gorgeous, with a great figure and that amazing scent…
Ugh, what am I, some kind of creep?
Even sweeping with the broom, my heart was pounding with nerves and excitement…
“…”
Wait.
Nerves?
Why was I nervous?
That’s when I realized my feelings for her were mixed with a strange sense of tension or caution. Of course, most of it was attraction, but still.
I couldn’t make sense of my own emotions.
My head was filled with question marks.
I finished sweeping and went back inside. It was just past four o’clock.
“Done. No customers right now, so I’ll take a break.”
“What are you talking about? When there are no customers, you learn how to make coffee from your dad. And call them guests, not customers.”
The doorbell jingled lightly.
I looked toward the entrance.
My gaze locked onto her instantly.
My heart raced, and my voice trembled.
“W-Welcome!”
It was a warm spring evening.
“Hello, Yuu-san,” said the beautiful girl who’d been plaguing my thoughts.
“An espresso, please, at the terrace.”
With that, she stepped out to the terrace seating.
“Hey, Yuu, the order?” my mother said, grinning.
“Oh, right, one espresso.”
I placed the espresso cup on a tray and hurried to the terrace where she was waiting.
“Here’s your espresso. Sorry for the wait.”
“Thank you. So, Yuu-san, you’ve started working here?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
She sat at the terrace table facing the street, the gentle glow of the setting sun illuminating her as she brought the cup to her lips.
What a picture-perfect moment. If someone snapped a photo and painted it, it’d be a masterpiece anyone would admire.
She glanced at me and smiled softly.
“Nice weather today, isn’t it? Warm and pleasant.”
“Haha, yeah, it is.”
“You don’t need to use polite language. I’m younger than you, after all.”
“By the way, about that thing you said… If I guess your name, you’ll do anything I ask?”
“Exactly as it sounds. Tell me anything you want me to do.”
She stood up and took a step toward me.
A sweet, soft fragrance tickled my nose.
It was so intoxicating I felt like I might pass out.
“Uh, w-wait—”
She pressed her index finger to my chest and said, “I’ll do anything for you.”
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＊
Hehe, he’s curious, he’s totally curious.
It’s a bit embarrassing, but if I get to see Yuu-nii all flustered, I can deal with it.
I can’t help but feel excited just imagining when he’ll figure it out and what his reaction will be.
“Oh, by the way, I brought something I wanted to show you today.”
I returned to my seat and pulled something out of my bag.
Teasing this oblivious guy is fun in its own way, but my ultimate goal is to get him to realize who I am.
However, I know all too well just how dense Arigetsu Yuu has been since we were kids.
So, I need to drop subtle hints and nudge him along.
“What’s that?” Yuu-nii asked, peering at my hands.
“I’ve been really into astrology lately.”
What I pulled out was a gaudy-looking book on zodiac signs. The cover featured a nostalgic spiritual guru’s face, plastered with words like “Destiny” and “Mystic” that screamed sketchy.
I only half-believe in stuff like astrology, but this zodiac book should be an effective weapon against Yuu-nii. Why? Because—
“Yuu-san, when’s your birthday?”
“My birthday? October 2nd.”
“So, you’re a Libra. By the way, I’m a Cancer, born on June 25th.”
Yes!
I smoothly shifted the topic to birthdays and managed to tell Yuu-nii mine.
It might seem trivial, but this was a bold hint.
When I was a kid, Yuu-nii celebrated my birthday with me every year until he moved to Tokyo. It’s not like you meet many people with the same birthday.
The equation “June 25th = Haruyama Miya’s birthday” should be etched in Yuu-nii’s brain. Could this be the moment he figures it out?
I watched his reaction closely.
“Huh, cool,” he said.
Lame!
What’s with that half-hearted response?
He’s got that “Astrology? What a childish thing to believe in” look on his face.
Come on, notice!
When I was in first grade, you gave me that heart-shaped hairpin, remember?
I still treasure it.
Should I wear it tomorrow or something?
Grr…
I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but this guy’s denseness is on another level. I was reminded once again just how oblivious Arigetsu Yuu is.
＊
For some reason, this beautiful girl is glaring at me.
Crap, did my “Astrology? What a childish thing to believe in” face give me away?
Not good. I need to act interested before I upset her.
“Wow, that looks like an interesting book! Let me see it!” I said, my tone painfully fake.
“Go ahead,” she replied.
“Oh, looks like there’s a compatibility section too,” I said, flipping to the table of contents.
“Wanna check it out?” I added.
“Sounds good.”
She seemed to be in a better mood. I hurriedly turned the pages.
It’s probably just the usual vague nonsense these books are full of. Let’s see, Libra and Cancer compatibility…
“Libra boys and Cancer girls have a 90% compatibility!”
“No way!” I blurted out.
“Heh… hehe,” she giggled.
“Truly a match blessed by the heavens. Your compatibility is off the charts! Nothing can stand in your way. If there’s any obstacle, it’s something you’ve already overcome together. By conquering great barriers as a team, you’ll forge an unbreakable bond!”
Yup, just the usual fluffy nonsense. But 90% compatibility with a girl this beautiful? Not bad. Pretty great, actually. Not that I’m a lolicon or anything.
“Hehe, 90%, huh?” she said, clearly pleased.
But the “barrier” mentioned here… it’s gotta be her name, right?
Yeah, that’s the real obstacle.
Her name—the most critical piece of personal info to know someone. Without it, there’s no way our relationship can move forward.
As I finished my espresso, she spoke up.
“So, how about your guess for today?”
“Uh, well…”
I still didn’t have a single clue to work with.
Guess I’d have to take a wild shot again.
“Um, how about… Konomori Reiko?”
“Nope, wrong.”
“Figured.”
“Time for your penalty game, then.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out a marker.
“No way, seriously?”
“Don’t worry, it’s water-based,” she said, barely containing her laughter as she scribbled on my face.
I didn’t need a mirror to know what she wrote—the sensation on my skin told me everything.
“Tell Oji-san and Oba-san the food was delicious. See you later!”
And so, with the title of “Meat” scrawled on my face and the payment for the espresso in hand, I returned to the café.
＊
3
“Fufufu!”
I flopped onto my bed, holding up the astrology book.
“Ehehe~”
How much time had passed since I started staring at that creased page? I wasn’t bored in the slightest.
“Libra boys and Cancer girls have a 90% compatibility!”
“Truly a match blessed by the heavens.”
“Fuhe, ehehehe!”
I know in my head that a book by some washed-up spiritual guru has zero credibility, but staring at those words made it impossible to wipe the grin off my face.
Yuu-nii was flustered too, so it all worked out, right?
I was a bit upset and sad that he didn’t figure out who I was despite me telling him my birthday.
But humans are strange creatures.
Just reading the results of a fake astrology book was enough to blow away all those negative feelings.
I think I get why some girls get hooked on this stuff.
“—Hey.”
The goal isn’t just this. Like the book says, we can’t move forward without overcoming the barrier.
“—Hey!”
How do I make him notice? I thought this was a pretty bold move, but even that didn’t get through to him.
If I give too obvious a hint, it’ll seem like I’m desperate—which, okay, I kind of am—but I need a cleverer strategy.
“Nee-chan!”
“Eek!”
The book was yanked from my hands, and my little sister’s puffed-up, sulky face filled my vision.
“Oh, Miu, what’s up?” I asked.
Haruyama Miu, my nine-year-old sister, nine years younger than me. Her long brown hair was tied into low twin tails, and she wore a slightly oversized shirt with shorts.
“What’s up? It’s dinner time! I’ve been calling you forever, but you were too busy making creepy faces to hear me.”
“C-Creepy faces?”
“Hurry up, or Mom’s gonna get mad!”
“Okay, okay! Give that back,” I said.
Miu flipped through the book she’d snatched.
“Nee-chan, you’ve never even had a boyfriend. What’s the point of reading this stuff?”
“Ugh!”
Kids are brutal—they zero in on exactly what’ll hurt you most.
It’s not like I want a boyfriend.
There just hasn’t been a guy I liked nearby.
Things are different now, though.
“Tch, kids shouldn’t be reading that! Give it back!”
“Even kids wouldn’t believe this stuff,” she shot back.
This little brat!
She used to be so cute, always clinging to me and calling me “Nee-chan,” but lately, she’s been all rebellious and competitive.
“Come on, forget that—dinner’s waiting,” Miu said, snapping the book shut and tossing it onto the bed before scampering off.
“Ugh, Miu, seriously!”
After dinner, I returned to my room and noticed my phone’s notification light blinking. Checking it, I saw a new LINE message.
“Who’s this?”
I flopped onto the bed and opened the app. A familiar name popped up.
“Is it true Yuu-nii’s back?”
I’d mentioned earlier that Yuu-nii had returned, and this was their reply.
I typed back.
“Yup, it’s true.”
The message was marked as read instantly.
“No way! I’m coming by tomorrow then.”
Tomorrow?
“Hold on a sec!”
I sent the message and hurriedly called. It’s fine if they visit, but I need to make sure they don’t spill anything about me. If they say something like, “Miya told me~,” it’s all over.
“Hey, Mahiru?
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