Chapter 5

For the past few days, I’ve been practicing for the exam every day after school, but today’s Sunday, and practice is off due to Nagisa’s work. Apparently, she won’t be back until after 10 p.m. Being a working actress sounds tough.

It’s someone else’s problem, sure, but that’s how I feel as I enjoy a rare evening to myself after dinner. Normally, I’d read a book, but tonight I feel like watching a movie starring my dad.

“He’s really good…”

Even before I started thinking seriously about acting for the exam, I’d paid attention to his expressions and movements. But after Nagisa’s recent coaching, my perspective feels different. I can mimic his expressions and gaze habits, but the way he presents himself for the camera, honed over his long acting career, isn’t something I can copy overnight.

After focusing on the not-so-short movie, I glance at the clock—it’s almost midnight. I start getting ready for bed. “Was that moment of silence in the scene scripted…?” I mutter to myself as I head to the bathroom. “Did he look away before the kiss scene on purpose…?”

Even after brushing my teeth and slipping into bed, my thoughts keep spiraling. If every moment I found striking was an ad-lib, I can’t imagine ever reaching that level. And there’s no way to confirm if it was improvised unless I ask him directly. Giving up on thinking, I let my weight sink into the bed and close my eyes.

“…Can’t sleep.”

If it were that easy to shut off my mind, half the world’s insomniacs would be cured. Resigning myself to staying awake, I fumble for the lamp on my bedside table and switch it on. Bathed in its soft, balanced light, I grab the exam script nearby, sit up, and start reading.

As I flip through the pages, my phone buzzes lightly on the nightstand.

{Sleeping?}

Nagisa’s short message lights up the screen.

{Can’t sleep, reading the script.}

{Good job not slacking.}

{It’s supposed to be my day off, right?}

{I’m the type to check on my student’s dedication.}

{Fair enough.}

I set the script back down, grab my phone, and flop onto the bed.

{Back home yet?}

{Obviously.}

{I finished getting ready for bed and thought I’d check on you.}

{Appreciate it.}

{Wanna strategize? It’s our first time practicing in the lesson room tomorrow.}

Ichiyo High has lesson rooms for performing arts students, usually for dance practice, but students can use them after school with a reservation. They were booked solid by other exam teams, so it took a while to get a slot. I’ve checked with Aida-san, so we’ll finally rehearse together tomorrow.

{Strategy sounds good, but wanna call instead?}

I’m tired of typing. Watching Akari fire off messages at inhuman speed makes me question if we’re the same species.

{What? Trying to casually ask me out? Want a sleepover call?}

{What’s a sleepover call?}

Her reply to my confused question is a rabbit sticker with a deadpan stare.

{It’s when couples talk on the phone until they fall asleep.}

{That’s not what I meant.}

Without seeing her face, I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but if she were here, she’d probably smirk and say, “You really are clueless about romance, huh?”

{Sorry, but I don’t do that with guys I’m not dating.}

A polite message arrives with a rabbit bowing deeply.

{I just thought talking would be easier for communication.}

{Huh?}

{You wanted to hear my voice?}

{Don’t phrase it weird.}

{It’s for smooth communication.}

{Ugh.}

{Fine.}

Then, instead of a call, my phone buzzes with a voice message. She’s really set on avoiding a call. I hit play.

“Hey~”

Her short greeting, coming from the phone near my face, feels… different somehow.

“You there? Do you even know how to listen to this?”

Another short message follows quickly.

“…I’m here,” I say, feeling oddly embarrassed talking to my phone. A few seconds of silence slip into the start of my reply.

“Are you happy to hear my voice? Where’s my thank you?”

It’s probably because it’s bedtime, but her voice feels softer than usual, and I find myself saying, “Thanks…” without resistance.

“So, no strategy talk?”

“Let’s see… Oh! Since we know you can act, how about adding a kiss scene? Broaden your range!”

Her teasing tone is clear through the voice message.

“No way. Exams don’t usually have kiss scenes, right?”

“I figured you’d say that. But I heard other teams are doing them. Kiss scenes are basic for TV dramas.”

I imagine kissing Nagisa in front of Akari, my mom, and my dad. …No way.

“…Spare me.”

“You totally pictured it and got embarrassed, didn’t you?”

I can practically see her smirking face.

“Let’s talk about something serious…”

Our back-and-forth voice messages end when I pass out mid-conversation.

◆◆◆

“Hey!”

I send another voice message, just like before.

Did he fall asleep, Yuto?

“You asleep~?”

No read receipt after the second message. I give up waiting, toss my phone onto the nightstand, and bury my face in my pillow, squirming.

“Ugh! This is practically a sleepover call! What am I doing?!”

I yell into my pillow, but it’s no use.

…Still, his voice through the phone was kinda nice…

I grab the tossed phone, pull it close, and tap the screen.

“I’m here.”

“Spare me.”

“Let’s talk about something serious…”

“~~~!”

The wildly different vibe makes me squirm again.

“What am I even doing…?”

It’s not like I have romantic feelings. It’s just friendship. I’m a teenager in the thick of puberty, messing around with a guy I got close to. But even if I don’t like Yuto that way, I wonder how he sees me. …As a proper friend, I mean.

Making pointless excuses in my head, I press the voice message button.

“Hey… what do you think of me…?”

My honest words ride the airwaves. No read receipt after a few minutes.

“…Time to sleep.”

◆

“Hey, Yuto!”

“Morning.”

The next morning, I meet Akari by the elevator as usual. I stayed up until 1 a.m. messaging Nagisa, so I’m a bit sleep-deprived. I’m so jealous of short sleepers.

“Morning, Akari!”

“Nagisa! You’re going to school this early?”

“Yup.”

As we wait for the elevator, Nagisa steps out of her place, perfectly timed. Considering she sent messages after I fell asleep, she stayed up later but looks completely fine.

“Morning, Yuto.”

“Morning.”

As we board the elevator, I remember something. “Nagisa, what was with that ‘message unsent’ thing last night?”

After I passed out, she sent a few messages, but the last one was retracted.

“Hm? Nothing important, don’t worry. Just a mistake.”

Her eyes dart away—deliberately. I’m a bit curious, but it’s not worth pressing. The feeling fades, and our conversation shifts.

“By the way, Yuto, you didn’t forget about after school, right?” Akari asks.

“I know. Fourth floor of the training building.”

Today’s the day we can use the reserved lesson room.

“Hmm? What’s that? A confession vibe?” Akari teases, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“If it was, I wouldn’t talk about it with you here. It’s exam practice.”

“What! You’re doing it today? Can I watch?”

“No way.”

She’d definitely disrupt practice.

“Ugh, Yuto, you’re so stingy! Fine, I’ll ask Nagisa. Right, Nagisa?”

“I’m not allowing it either,” Nagisa says.

“You’re mean too~?”

It’s impressive she’s whining this much when she’ll see a more polished version in a few weeks.

“I’ll record it, so deal with that,” I say.

“Yes! Viewing party at Yuto’s place!”

“Fine, fine…”

She flips her attitude the moment she gets her way. Classic Akari, but it’s part of her charm.

◆

“Here’s to a good session, Aida-san,” Nagisa says.

“Likewise, Minase-san.”

Aida-san extends her right hand for a handshake. It’s rare for friends to greet like that—more like something you’d see abroad or in business. She’s got her unique sense of distance, as always.

After an odd moment of shaking hands and staring at each other, Nagisa sidles up to me and whispers, “She’s definitely a weird one… like Akari.”

Watching Aida-san do vocal exercises—“Ame-nbo, akai na, a i u e o…”—probably from some TV or online source, she seems quirky but earnest and kind.

(T/N: “Ame-nbo, akai na, a i u e o…” is the opening line of a traditional Japanese children’s song called 「あめんぼの歌」 (Amenbo no Uta), or "The Water Strider’s Song." It’s a playful, rhythmic song often used to teach children the Japanese syllabary (hiragana) through the sounds of the vowels and consonants.)

“Shall we start, Aida-san?” I ask.

“Ready when you are.”

I borrow a tripod meant for dance students and set up my phone to capture the whole scene.

“Let’s begin,” Nagisa says, clapping her hands as a signal. We take our positions and start rehearsing.

◆

“Not bad, right?” I say, catching my breath and glancing at them for feedback, feeling a solid sense of progress.

“I’m no acting expert, but I thought your performance was great, Aoi-kun. You kept up with Minase-san perfectly,” Aida-san says.

Her words, the best I could hope for, make my cheeks loosen into a smile. “No, it’s thanks to you syncing with us so well on the first try, Aida-san.”

“I think my role’s less demanding than yours. I had to at least do this much.”

Unlike a certain childhood friend who’d get cocky at praise, Aida-san’s humility is refreshing. She must’ve practiced at home—her delivery was smooth, adjusting her tone to fit the scene, adding immersion. Her clear voice filled the lesson room without a mic, confirming I made the right call asking her to narrate.

“If it’s like this… maybe with Yuya-san…” Nagisa murmurs, clearly excited about the possibilities.

I can sense her thrill at what this could mean.

“Aoi-kun, don’t you need to stop the camera?” Aida-san points at the tripod, reminding me I’m still recording.

I stop the video and turn to face her, only to meet her suspicious gaze. “This is just a hunch… but doesn’t your acting remind you of Kitajo-san? Did you study him or something?”

My heart jumps at my dad’s name, but I keep my face neutral. “I’ve been referencing him. Watched a lot of his dramas.”

“It’s pretty high quality… And you look like him, so it’s kind of exciting,” she says, her cool demeanor hiding her apparent enthusiasm. My heart leaps again—not just for the acting but because it’s the first time anyone besides Mom and Akari has said I resemble him.

“Really? I get that you referenced his acting, but Yuya-san’s face is more mature, isn’t it? Yuto’s a different type,” Nagisa interjects, looking up from the script. I’m grateful for her save—I was struggling to respond.

“I mean when Kitajo-san was doing idol stuff, around the time we were born. Before he was 25, maybe?” Aida-san says, a bit rushed.

“Wow, you know a lot,” Nagisa replies, genuinely impressed, nodding along.

“I call myself his number-one fan… Look, around the eyes…” Aida-san, pleased by the praise, invades my personal space, getting so close I can feel her breath.

“Uh, too close, Aida-san,” Nagisa says, startled by Aida-san’s sudden disregard for boundaries.

“…Yeah, up close, you really look like him. It’s like my vision’s getting sharper,” Aida-san says, closing the gap further. Her words about our resemblance freeze me in place—I’d normally step back.

Should I laugh it off? As I scramble for a response, my heart races, and my body heats up.

“~~~!!”

A sharp pain in my leg snaps me out of it. Nagisa, the culprit, glares down at me as I collapse to the floor, clutching my shin where she kicked me.

“What’s with the red face? Gross!”

“I’m telling you, if you get flustered over stuff like this, you’ll regret it!” she snaps.

The pain’s already been delivered.

“Let’s practice!” she declares.

“Alright…?” Aida-san, confused by Nagisa’s sudden mood swing, picks up her script and prepares.

Relieved the topic’s changed, I hurry to get ready, avoiding further provoking Nagisa’s irritation. We finish practice without Aida-san pressing the issue.

◆

“Hey! I’m here!”

Around 8 p.m., Akari barges into my room without ringing the bell.

“Ring the doorbell…”

“What? It’s your house, so it’s fine, right? You’d just say ‘Come in~’ in that lazy voice anyway.”

She mimics me with a lower tone, but her naturally high-pitched voice doesn’t lose its girlishness.

“You know I don’t ring it, and you leave the door unlocked for me, don’t you?”

“Thanks to you, our security’s terrible.”

“Then lock it.”

“Not until you stop rattling the door or yelling my name. It’s a neighborhood nuisance.”

“I don’t yell when I come at night.”

“Stop rattling the door and yelling during the day too.”

I lightly tap her head with the novel I was reading. “Where’s Nagisa? I figured she’d come with you, given her viewing party talk this morning.”

“Oh, I invited her, but she said she doesn’t want feedback until the performance.”

She theatrically droops her shoulders, acting out her disappointment.

“Let’s watch already! I’m dying to see!” she urges, flailing her arms and legs. I pick up my phone nearby.

“…Kinda embarrassing.”

The feeling hits suddenly. It dawns on me that Akari will be staring at my acting on the screen. With only a princess and knight on stage, our characters are pretty intense. And mine’s… kinda suave.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re backing out?”

“…Is that not okay?”

“No way.”

Akari, lying face-down on the sofa, gives me a deadly serious look.

“Fine, watch it. I’ll be in the living room.”

I know I can’t back out, so I sigh, open the video on my phone, and hand it to her. Holding my novel, I try to escape…

“Wait.”

Akari leans off the sofa and grabs my clothes. “Yuto, you can’t run from this. It’s just your childhood friend watching. There’ll be way more people at the real thing, right?”

Her serious gaze, devoid of her usual playful or silly demeanor, corners me.

“Can’t you let it slide…?”

“No way,” she says in exaggerated Kansai dialect, shaking her head. Giving up, I return to the bed, bury my face in my pillow, and resign myself.

She’d probably chase me to her place if I ran, and then my mom would join the viewing party, making things worse.

“Yuto, over here,” Akari says, patting the space next to her on the sofa.

“Let’s watch together?”

Apparently, she’s not just going to roast me—she wants me to watch too.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tease you this time! I’m watching as your big sis, cheering for your growth.”

She reads my expression and preemptively shuts down my concerns.

“My birthday’s first…”

Reluctantly, I sit next to her.

“Hold the phone,” she says, handing it back.

“Spread your legs.”

I do, and she slides into the space between them.

“Now hold the phone in front of me.”

I follow her instructions… but, “This is how we’re watching?”

“Well, yeah. If I hold it, you can’t see, and your arms would get tired.”

Our height difference makes it easy for me to see the phone over her head, but reaching around her is more tiring for me.

“Can’t I just hold it between us? I’ll handle it.”

“What? No way! This feels nice. Human warmth is cozy, and they say heartbeats are calming~”

She presses her ear to my chest, closing her eyes as if listening.

“Huh… that’s weird…” she says after a few seconds, her face serious.

“With your cute childhood friend this close, your heart rate’s not even up?”

Her confidence in herself is blatant.

“I’m used to it.”

“Oh? So you did get flustered before~?” she pokes my thigh, grinning.

“Until middle school.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

“So there’s no point to this setup now.”

“C’mon, it’s fine.”

She shakes her head, letting her hair sway. A gentle, elegant scent drifts from it.

“I just showered, so I smell nice. You get to enjoy the fresh scent of a high school girl! So…”

She fiddles with my phone and starts the video.

“Wow, Nagisa’s like a different person!” she exclaims, clapping as she watches Nagisa switch into character—a side you don’t see in her dramas.

My lines start, and Akari’s scent somehow calms me. …It does smell nice.

I focus on the screen.

“Take my hand, Princess.”

On-screen me delivers a line I’d never say in real life, all cool and composed. Without the knight costume or mask I’d wear for the performance, just in my school tracksuit, I’m spouting suave lines.

I brace for teasing, but as promised, Akari doesn’t mock me. Her silence, probably holding back laughter, is almost worse. Maybe I’d prefer her to just tease me and get it over with.

Unable to stand it, I look away from the screen and lightly press my face into Akari’s hair, filling my view with it. An embarrassing scene’s coming up, so I’ll ride it out like this, focusing on her scent to stay calm…

…This is kinda, no, really creepy. Enjoying my childhood friend’s post-shower scent is straight-up pervert behavior. I rein myself in, blank my mind, and endure.

“Yuto?”

Her voice pulls my gaze back. The video’s paused.

“What’s up? Something wrong?”

Akari turns slowly, her cheeks flushed. “It’s fine, but…” she says awkwardly, looking away. “You’re enjoying my scent a bit… too much. It’s kinda embarrassing…”

“…Sorry.”

Her unfamiliar expression leaves me with nothing but an apology.

“Let’s keep watching!”

Still blushing, she slips out from between my legs, sits beside me, and claps to shift the mood, staring at the phone together.

I can tell she’s trying hard to meet my eyes, but her focus is clearly off.

“Sorry, really…”

Seeing my childhood friend, visibly different from her usual self, makes guilt well up even more.

“No, no! It’s totally fine! Totally! You’re like a little brother to me!” Akari says, waving her hands frantically to dismiss it. But her darting eyes and obvious fluster, unmistakable even to someone who’s not her childhood friend, only deepen my regret.

“Come on! Give me your usual comeback! Your birthday’s before mine, right?” She jabs her elbow into me, trying to tease as usual.

“It’s really okay! Look, sniff all you want!” she says, eyes still wandering, before collapsing onto my chest.

…Is she saying I can smell her as much as I want? My nerves aren’t thick enough to start sniffing her like that. Should I call her out on this weird energy, or accept it as her best attempt to break the tension? As I ponder, time passes, and Akari’s head, visible at the edge of my sight, starts trembling.

“…Sorry, can you just forget it?” she says softly, looking up at me, her face growing redder.

That’s the final blow. The awkwardness in the room hits critical mass, and I give up on watching the video for now. Under the pretense of a break, I head to the living room to grab some tea.

“Wow, how thoughtful of you~” Akari says.

“Thanks.”

Taking my time seems to have worked—she looks like her usual self again. “About earlier… sorry. I was trying to distract from the video…”

“Nah, I’m over it!”

Her light acceptance of my apology is a relief, and I slip back into my usual rhythm.

“By the way, when I told Hinata-chan and Nagisa you’re a scent fetishist, I felt so much better!” she says, beaming and patting the sofa next to her. “Come on! Let’s do that position again. Don’t worry, I won’t hate you for being a scent fetishist. We’re childhood friends, right?”

“…You told them?”

“Yup.”

She shows me her phone, displaying a group chat with her, Murai-san, and Nagisa.

{Yuto’s a scent fetishist who loves the smell of freshly washed hair.}

The message, marked with two read receipts, is painfully clear and mortifying.

{He’s got that brooding vibe, doesn’t he?}

{What shampoo do you use?}

Their quick replies show what great friends they are. At least it cheered Akari up. …If this is the punishment for my crime, I guess it’s not so bad.

“Let’s keep watching, Yuto!” she urges, smirking with clear anticipation of my embarrassment.

I set the drinks on the nightstand and return to our earlier setup, carefully focusing away from her hair. From there, it goes smoothly. I listen to Akari’s “Wow, amazing!” and “Yuto, you’re so cool!” as we watch the phone together.

…And somehow, I stop caring about the embarrassing lines my on-screen self is spouting. Compared to the earlier tension, this is way easier.

{If it’s like this… maybe with Yuya-san…}

{Aoi-kun, don’t you need to stop the camera?}

Their voices play, and the video stops automatically.

“So… how was it?” I ask.

“It was good, but… you’re really doing the exam, huh?” Akari murmurs thoughtfully.

I pull the phone away and toss it lightly onto the bed. “I’ve been saying that from the start.”

“No, I mean, you used to say you hated your dad, and now you’re performing in front of Yuya-san. It’s hard to believe.”

She slumps, resting her head on my stomach, staring at the ceiling.

“You mean back in eighth grade?”

“Yeah, you kept saying you hated him back then.”

She’s right—I did. “I was in my rebellious phase, and with a middle schooler’s brain, I tried to make sense of my family situation. I decided on my own it was a taboo topic, didn’t ask Mom for details, and spun my own story in my head. The only word I had for my feelings about Dad was ‘hate.’”

Looking back, I was probably frustrated that in dramas, Dad’s fatherly gaze never landed on me, that his loving looks for a wife in a warm family weren’t for Mom. In reality, Mom and Dad stayed in touch, and he got regular updates on my growth.

“I didn’t get to ask before, but… are you really okay meeting Yuya-san on exam day?” Akari sits up, kneeling with a serious, worried look.

“Honestly? Maybe not…”

“What?! W-What do we do? Should I perform instead? Oh, but it has to be a guy…”

I meant to tease her with my gloomy expression, and seeing her rare, flustered reaction makes me chuckle. I place a hand on her head. “Meeting the dad I’ve only seen on TV for the first time is gonna be nerve-wracking, but…”

“But?” Her eyes, looking up at me with question marks, hold my hand with both of hers.

“You’ll be there to cheer me up if something happens, right, big sis?”

She blinks, then beams and dives into my chest. “Leave it to your big sis!”

The force of her leap makes me collapse onto the sofa. Smiling wryly at her enthusiasm, I gently pat my childhood friend’s head.

“Oh, but if you’re gonna lean on me, give me a heads-up, okay?” she says.

“Why?”

I didn’t say I’d lean on her, but her bright smile cuts off any protest. “So I can shower for you first!”

“…Thanks.”

Grateful for her thoughtfulness, I accept the scent fetishist label without arguing…

◆

{Teacher called me, so wait a bit!}

After homeroom the next day, Akari’s message arrives.

{What now?} Nagisa texts shortly after.

The three of us have made a habit of walking home together when Nagisa’s at school, so we planned to today too.

{Library to kill time?} I suggest, leaving the classroom to meet Nagisa.

{Never been, don’t know where it is.}

{Massive building in the middle of campus.}

I head up the stairs next to my classroom, toward Akari’s. Peering through the back door, I spot a familiar figure by the hallway seats.

{Don’t know, come get me.}

“I’m already here,” I say.

“…You got a hobby of sneaking up on people?” Nagisa jumps, narrowing her eyes with a scowl as she turns.

“Who’d have that kind of hobby?”

“Dunno. You’ve snuck up on me two nights in a row.”

“That was a coincidence…”

When I say that, looking troubled, she flashes a pleased grin. “Well, escort me then?”

“Fine, fine.”

I text Akari we’re heading to the library, and Nagisa and I follow the thinning crowd out of the school building. The library center sits halfway down the long path from the school gate, a boxy building with white walls and black polka dots. Its simple design gives off a futuristic vibe that excited me even before I enrolled.

“Wow… this is the library?” Nagisa says.

“You never checked it out?”

“Nope. Thought it was some sketchy facility.”

“They wouldn’t put something like that on campus.”

We step through the automatic doors into the air-conditioned library, greeted by the gentle scent of paper. Normally, I’d browse the first-floor shelves or head to the study room with Soma, but since we’re just killing time, we settle at a reading area by the second-floor windows.

“Nice place,” Nagisa says, gazing out at the path below with a happy expression, keeping her voice low. “Makes me wanna read.”

“Libraries have a magic that does that to people.”

The neatly arranged shelves and organized books tempt you to pick something up, even if it’s not what you came for.

“Well, I’m not reading,” she says.

I hold back a retort.

“It’s calming…” she murmurs, basking in the sunlight streaming through the window, stretching her arms across the desk and resting her weight on it. Then, laying her head on her arms, she looks at me calmly. “…By the way.”

“What?”

“Is it true you awakened to a scent fetish yesterday?”

“…No.”

“Oh, so you’ve been into it for a while then.”

She misinterprets my words, nodding as she turns back to the window.

“Wait, I’m not a scent fetishist at all.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then what happened yesterday?”

“We were just watching practice footage.”

“Hmm…” Her eyes lose their spark as she fiddles with her phone. What’s that emotion?

“Then what’s this?”

She shoves her phone in my face, showing her chat with Akari. Akari’s reply to Nagisa’s {Details?} meticulously describes how I buried my face in her hair after she jokingly said I could sniff it, even counting how many times I supposedly did.

“…I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology,” she says.

“Then what should I do?”

“Nothing to do~”

Apparently, I can’t atone—I just have to carry this cross. Shutting off her phone with a dissatisfied look, Nagisa slumps onto the desk, muttering, “I smell nice after a shower too…”

Who’s she competing with? Even when we practiced before, not post-shower, her gentle soap scent stuck with me.

Realizing I might’ve been a scent fetishist all along, I pull wireless earbuds from my bag to listen to music and cut off that thought.

“…I wanna listen too,” Nagisa says, a bit sulky, so I hand her one earbud.

In a Heisei-era rom-com, we’d share wired earphones, inevitably closing the distance. But it’s Reiwa now, so this youthful moment happens at a proper distance.

“…?”

“What’s up?”

She keeps adjusting her earbud with a puzzled look. “Connection’s bad… Oh, this works.”

She scoots closer, our shoulders firmly touching. So that’s how Reiwa plays it.

With her soap scent occupying half my brain’s memory, I guess I really am a scent fetishist.

◆

Days of regular practice later, it’s Friday, with the exam a few days away. Nagisa and I head to the costume room in the training building for a fitting.

“It’s just picking from a few options, so it shouldn’t take long…” Nagisa says, glancing at a notice on her phone, sent to her as the team leader.

“Wanna take pics and send them to Aida-san? We might not have time for photos on the day,” she suggests, playfully waving the fox mask she brought from home.

“Not a bad idea. We don’t know if we’ll get a chance for pics during the performance.”

The notice specified “performers only,” likely to prevent exam candidates from bringing friends and causing chaos. Aida-san declined, saying, “Since I’m not performing, I’ll pass.”

We soon arrive at the costume room.

“So many…”

Opening the door reveals more costumes than expected—kimonos, maid outfits, heavy armor, even swimsuits.

“Ours are… over there?” Nagisa points to a section labeled “First-Year Exam Use.”

Following her, the scenery shifts to European-style costumes straight out of a play.

“Wow… there’s a ton,” she says.

Despite the number, the space feels comfortable, probably managed to avoid crowding. Only four other groups are here.

“Wanna start with yours?” she asks.

“Sure.”

I nod, and we move from the women’s costumes.

“What kind do you want?”

“Honestly, anything’s fine.”

The knight costumes vary by design and color, but that’s it.

“Figured you’d say that… Hold this.”

She sighs, exasperated, and hands me the fox mask. Muttering, “White… no, black might suit you too?” she browses the costumes, picking a mostly white one. “Try this on. The staff in the fitting room should help.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll join you after. Wait by the fitting room?”

“Got it.”

I watch her head to the women’s section, then make my way to the fitting room. With the staff’s help, I change into the slightly unfamiliar costume, holding the fox mask while waiting for Nagisa.

“How’s it look, my knight?”

Nagisa emerges from one of the fitting rooms, standing before me and tilting her body to show off her ornate costume, looking up to gauge my reaction.

“It suits you, Princess,” I say, putting on the mask and taking her hand, delivering a deliberately cheesy line. She beams, satisfied.

“Very well, I am pleased,” she says, puffing out her chest proudly before switching to a sly grin. “So? Falling for me all over again?”

“Wasn’t aware I fell for you in the first place.”

Her regal princess aura drops back to high school girl.

“Hmm? I wonder? That mask might be hiding some fluster.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure.”

She slowly removes my mask. “…Yup, fine.”

“I’m used to your teasing by now.”

“Boring~”

She pouts dramatically, then brightens and turns to a nearby student. “Sorry, could you take a picture of us?”

She grabs her phone from her school bag and hands it to the student, who agrees cheerfully.

“Okay, Yuto, princess carry me.”

“…Seriously?”

Her absurd request catches me off guard.

“Dead serious.”

Is she forgetting we’re in front of others? Or does an actress not care about that? While I hesitate, the student holding the phone waits. No time to overthink.

I sigh deeply and move behind Nagisa for the carry.

“Just kidding—”

Cutting off her words, I slip one arm under her waist and the other under her thighs.

“Ready?”

“W-Wait a sec!”

I lift her swiftly, and her arms wrap around my neck, clinging tightly.

“You don’t have to hold on so hard. I won’t drop you…”

I’m not that weak, and she’s light anyway.

“…Shut up!”

Her irrational anger hits me as she shoves the fox mask onto my face, plunging my vision into darkness.

“I can’t see…”

“Stay like that! …And hold off on the picture!”