Chapter 1: The Story of How Kyoto-born Kiyoko-san Came to a Tokyo Shitamachi

"Kouya-kun, you really like eggplant, don't you? You're a growing boy, so please, have my portion as well. (Translation: I despise eggplant, so you eat it for me, won't you?)"

At the dining table one day, the girl with an impeccably pure and refined aura smiled gently as she moved her grilled eggplant onto Kouya's plate.

Her name was Shizuishi Kiyoko.

She was a seventeen-year-old Kyoto native currently freeloading on the third floor of Cassandra, a stylish Western-style cafe built in Asakusa—a neighborhood representative of Tokyo's quintessential shitamachi (downtown).

There were a number of reasons why a Kyotoite like her was living in Asakusa, but we'll set those aside for now.

"...Then I won't hold back."

Sharing the table with her was a downtown high schooler—Torame Kouya. Following her words, he reached out his chopsticks for the eggplant.

When dealing with Kiyoko, there was no need for the polite hesitation of saying, "You should eat it." Shizuishi Kiyoko possessed a personality that was entirely, quintessentially Kyoto.

To have a "Kyoto-like personality" meant that whenever something happened, she would use highly euphemistic and indirect phrasing. She was the type of girl known colloquially for saying things like, "Would you care to stay for some bubuzuke? (Translation: Please go home.)"

Therefore, in order to live smoothly alongside Kiyoko, one had to read between the lines of her words.

Due to various circumstances, Kouya—Kiyoko's childhood friend—had spent about a year living in Kyoto during his childhood. As a result of this experience (and further circumstances), he had grown accustomed enough to understand Kiyoko's indirect phrasing. However, the same could not be said for the other residents of Asakusa.

As a result, Shizuishi Kiyoko was actually quite isolated in her new class.

"Being so accustomed to the Kamo eggplants of Kyoto, I must say, Tokyo eggplants look rather amusing to me."

Kiyoko tilted her head gracefully, leisurely observing Kouya as he ate the eggplant she had forced upon him.

"...Ain't this eggplant from Ibaraki, not Tokyo?"

Considering the distribution routes for vegetables in the metropolitan area, Kouya offered a correction.

"I mean, Ibaraki's Okukuji eggplant is famous, right? Plus, Ibaraki totally gives off the vibe of having a lot of farmland."

"Or rather, Ibaraki has nothing but farmland, does it not?"

"I guess that might be true."

"It has so much greenery. What a lovely place it must be. (Translation: It's the absolute sticks.)"

"Well, yeah."

"I am sure neighboring Gunma must be quite delightful as well, with all those monkeys running about. (Translation: It's the absolute sticks.)"

"I'm pretty sure the place known for monkeys is Tochigi. You know, Nikko."

"If that is the case, then whatever could Gunma possibly have?"

"...Uh, mountain passes?"

"My, I could never live in a place like that. The people of Gunma sure must work hard every single day. (Translation: That's no place for a human to live.)"

While engaging in a conversation that was rather insulting to three of the Kanto region's prefectures, Kouya took a sip of his tofu and wakame miso soup.

Kiyoko had made the miso soup that day. Perhaps she used a different miso than usual, but the flavor felt oddly lacking. Still, that was likely just a difference in personal taste. Considering Kouya was having her help out with his cooking duty, he wasn't about to complain about the soup being a bit bland.

"Kouya-kun, you have a grain of rice on your face."

Kiyoko casually reached out and plucked a grain of rice from Kouya's cheek. Before Kouya could even react, she popped the rice from her finger into her mouth without a second thought.

It was that exact move—the one a mother pulls on her own child.

"...Man, quit treatin' me like a kid. We're the exact same age."

Obviously feeling patronized, Kouya voiced his dissatisfaction.

Kiyoko, however, didn't seem to care in the slightest. Reaching her chopsticks out for the pickled daikon, a soft smile graced her lips.

"But you are a child. Technically, you are younger than me, you know. I was born in April, and you were born in March, so it is practically like we are a whole school year apart."

"I mean, sure, that's true, but still."

"I am practically a whole year older than you, Kouya-kun."

"But we're in the exact same grade!"

Seeing Kouya turn sour, Kiyoko gave a soft chuckle, her eyes narrowing with a hint of mischief.

"If you would like, you are more than welcome to call me 'Kii-chan' again, just like you used to?"

"No way. It's way too awkward to use '-chan' at our age."

Kouya firmly rejected the idea, pausing his chopsticks in a foul mood.

"Is it really?"

"It totally is!"

"Are you feeling embarrassed?"

"No I'm not!"

"Why are you looking away, then? Even though you used to chase right after me, going, 'Kii-chan, Kii-chan'..."

Hearing Kiyoko giggle, Kouya scowled.

"...Why are you bringin' up the past?"

"I am simply stating the facts."

"Since you came here to Tokyo, I'm the one who's been coverin' for you, ain't I?"

"Oh? Has there been an occasion for that?"

"You stick out like a sore thumb in class, so I've been cleaning up your messes!"

"I never asked you to do that."

Kiyoko shut him down with uncharacteristic bluntness.

"Besides, I have never once caused a problem in class."

Kiyoko spoke with her soup bowl in hand. She was smiling, just as she always was, but her eyes were entirely devoid of warmth.

"..."

Kouya wasn't lying. But he could tell Kiyoko didn't want him to push the subject any further.

To put it simply, Shizuishi Kiyoko was the type of person who, even when hit squarely on the mark, would come up with every logical excuse in the book to absolutely refuse to admit something she didn't want to admit.

In other words, she would never, ever acknowledge the rift between her and her new classmates in Asakusa.

Washing down the rest of his miso soup, Kouya let out a heavy sigh. Well, no wonder the guys in Tokyo can't understand her "Kiyoko-speak" when she never says what's actually on her mind.

————Sixteen years ago. Torame Kouya was born and raised in Asakusa, a downtown district in Taito Ward, Tokyo.

Born in the shitamachi, raised in the shitamachi—a quintessential Edokko through and through—Torame Kouya somehow had a childhood friend from Kyoto.

The reason for this was simple: due to unavoidable family circumstances, Kouya had spent exactly one year in Kyoto starting from the summer of his first year in elementary school.

Why did a boy born in Asakusa have a history of living in Kyoto?

And what exactly were these family circumstances?

The answers to those questions ultimately boiled down to his parents' highly unusual professions.

Torame Kouya's parents were both involved in the theater. To be more precise, his mother was a stage actress for one of Japan's most prominent and celebrated musical theater companies, and his father was a stage director.

When Kouya talked about his parents, most people would say, "Wow, that's amazing," while a select few would worriedly ask, "Isn't that pretty rough?" The truth was, his parents were about as far removed from the concept of "family" as one could get. Kouya had spent half his life essentially living at the home of his grandfather, who ran a cafe near Asakusa's Kaminarimon.

Back when he was in the first grade, the reason he had been deposited at a historic Kyoto inn run by an acquaintance of his grandfather was twofold: first, his parents' theater company had found massive success on an Asian tour, leading to a sudden, extended run; second, his dependable grandfather had been hospitalized for a long period to undergo surgery for a chronic illness.

At the time, Kouya had been a relatively sociable kid. But having the friendships he had just built in the first grade suddenly annihilated due to his parents' jobs left him completely rebellious and bitter.

In the end, first-grader Kouya failed to make almost any friends at his new home in Kyoto. His only playmate was the daughter of the inn where he was staying.

Still, that was a decade ago, and it happened when he was just a little kid.

Now a second-year high school student, Kouya had completely forgotten about the whole ordeal.

————He forgot the name of the inn where he was left, and he forgot the daughter of the inn he used to play with.

But life is a funny thing.

Just when memories have been pushed to the very edges of your mind by the passage of time—right when you've almost completely forgotten an event from the past—something abruptly happens to drag it all back up to the surface.

————An out-of-season transfer student arrived at a certain high school in Asakusa.

It was the morning right after the Golden Week holidays in May.

Whipping his lethargic, post-holiday body into shape, Torame Kouya arrived at school only to find a massive crowd gathered in front of the staff room.

It was a sight you definitely didn't see every day.

"Did somethin' happen?" Kouya asked a male student he didn't recognize who was standing nearby, casually peering over the crowd.

"The future landlady of Suimeisou just transferred here!" the unfamiliar student excitedly informed him.

"Huh?"

—What the heck is a future landlady of Suimeisou?

Kouya blinked in confusion, prompting the student to passionately explain.

"They spent a whole season covering it on the documentary Project Reborn, didn't they?! The story about the beautiful mother-daughter duo who rebuilt a historic inn on the verge of bankruptcy! It got a 30% average viewership rating in this day and age!"

"My bad. I don't watch TV."

"Even if you didn't watch it on TV, it's ranked at the top of every streaming site! The landlady's autobiography was a bestseller, too, you know!"

"I don't really read books either. But 〈Suimeisou〉... kinda sounds familiar..."

Kouya crossed his arms in thought. Where have I heard that before? "Look, I'm telling you, it's famous!" the student practically yelled, clenching his fists. "A beautiful single mother who worked at a bank went to organize the debts of a historic inn drowning in loans! The soft-hearted young master of the inn fell for her and they got married, but the inn itself was about to go bankrupt!"

"Well, that's definitely a turbulent life for a landlady. Going from a debt collector to marrying the guy in debt."

"Right? I hear they're making a movie out of it soon, but personally, I think they should just cast the actual people instead of actors. I mean, the mother and daughter are seriously prettier than most actresses around here."

"And so all the people who watched that documentary are swarmin' out here like this, huh..."

Kouya was dumbfounded. All these guys crowding the staff room like moths drawn to a flame just because some minor celebrity transferred in—it was far too shallow.

Not wanting to be lumped in with a mob of groupies, Kouya—who fancied himself a 'man of refined tastes'—distanced himself from the student and headed for the stairs.

Behind him, the students swarming the staff room were already gossiping.

"But why did she transfer to Tokyo?"

"Is she not gonna take over the inn?"

"Ehh? But their whole selling point is the beautiful mother-daughter duo!"

"Not taking it over? Isn't that, like, impossible?"

Just a bunch of baseless rumors from people who had nothing to do with it.

————Our school is full of groupies, man. Shaking his head with a sigh, Kouya climbed the stairs and headed for the Class 2-3 homeroom.

"I'll introduce the transfer student."

Coincidences sure are funny things.

The balding homeroom teacher who walked into Class 2-3 brought none other than the rumored transfer student with him.

"I am Shizuishi Kiyoko," the transfer student greeted the class in a soft Kansai accent.

In that instant, cheers erupted across the classroom.

Class 2-3 was no exception; it was full of groupies just like the rest of the school.

The transfer student, Shizuishi Kiyoko, was a girl who fit the word pure better than anyone else alive. She was slightly taller than most girls her age, with a slender figure. With her straight hair falling to her waist and her placid, gentle demeanor, she looked a bit more mature than the rest of her classmates.

But transferring in May? That's way too weird of a time. You should've done the paperwork in April, man, Kouya thought absentmindedly as he turned his gaze toward the chalkboard. At that exact moment, the transfer student—Shizuishi Kiyoko—looked right at him.

Their eyes met.

"————"

A momentary freeze.

A clear flash of agitation ran through the girl's eyes.

"?"

Before Kouya could even form a question, Shizuishi Kiyoko looked away.

————I've seen her somewhere before.

————I feel like I've met her somewhere.

————And I feel like I've heard that name before, too. Torame Kouya felt a strange, nagging sense of déjà vu looking at the transfer student named Shizuishi Kiyoko.

She was apparently famous, but unfortunately, Kouya didn't watch TV. Where did I see her? the boy wondered.

Oh, right. I think I saw her doing transfer paperwork when I went to the staff room last week. No, that's not it. I feel like I met her somewhere even before that, but I just can't remember. Something in his memory was catching, but the inability to recall it left a hazy, frustrating feeling in his chest.

"Well then, Shizuishi-san, the seat in the back by the hallway is empty, so you can sit there. If there's anything you don't understand, don't hesitate to ask," the homeroom teacher said, snapping Kouya back to reality.

Because the students had gotten overly excited on their own, the teacher barely introduced Kiyoko before sending her to her seat.

Shizuishi Kiyoko sat down at the seat by the hallway—on the exact opposite side of the room from Kouya's window seat.

In the end, Kouya wasn't able to figure out where he had met the "girl he had seen somewhere before."

By the way, Torame Kouya was currently freeloading on the third floor of 〈Cassandra〉, the cafe that doubled as his grandfather Torame Jurou's home and workplace.

Built relatively close to Kaminarimon, one of Asakusa's premier tourist attractions, 〈Cassandra〉 was a three-story building. The first floor was the cafe, while the second and third floors were residential. His grandfather Jurou lived on the second floor.

Meanwhile, Kouya occupied the entirety of the vacant third-floor living space, treating it as his own personal domain and living a carefree life of utter leisure.

————However.

When he returned home from school that day, a moving company was hauling a bed and other furniture into the empty room right next to his.

A bed, a closet, a desk—they were all being carried into the third-floor spare room one after another.

This wasn't just his grandfather acting on a whim and deciding to redecorate. It was glaringly obvious preparation for another human being to move in.

And on the third floor that Kouya had claimed for himself, no less.

"The move-in is complete, so we will be taking our leave now."

Having finished bringing in the furniture, the movers bowed to the newly arrived Kouya and left.

"...Is somebody movin' in next to me?"

After seeing the movers off, Kouya hesitantly asked Jurou.

"The daughter of an acquaintance had to transfer schools here quite suddenly, you see. She's going to be living in the empty room on the third floor."

Kouya stared in shock as his grandfather nodded in confirmation.

"Huh? An acquaintance's daughter? What's that about?"

"Oh, did I not tell you?"

"First I'm hearin' of it."

"It is a story from a long time ago. Back when I first bought this land and opened 〈Cassandra〉, I ran a boarding house with cheap rent to help pay off the loan. I rented a room to Seisuke-kun, who had just moved to Tokyo."

"Who's this Seisuke-kun?"

"The father of the girl transferring here. You should know him too, honestly."

"Huh?"

"It has been over thirty years since then. My, how nostalgic..."

Remembering the distant past, Jurou narrowed his eyes.

Right now, Kouya couldn't care less about his grandfather's stories of yesteryear.

For Kouya, the real issue was that his carefree, leisurely life was suddenly being invaded by a new roommate.

Torame Kouya had never really gotten into trouble regarding interpersonal relationships, but he wasn't nearly as sociable as people thought, and he actually had surprisingly few friends.

A complete stranger was suddenly barging into his personal space—And Kouya wasn't even given ten minutes to agonize over that reality.

Less than ten minutes after the movers left, leaving Kouya utterly bewildered, the new housemate—the daughter of his grandfather's acquaintance—arrived without a shred of warning.

"I am Shizuishi Kiyoko."

With a massive trunk in hand, the girl bowed deeply.

The line, the face, the voice—an absolute sense of déjà vu. Torame Kouya had heard the exact same person give the exact same greeting just a few hours prior.

"You're the transfer student from this mornin'!"

Pointing a finger at the girl, Kouya couldn't help but raise his voice.

That was right. His new roommate was none other than the daughter of the beautiful landlady of that famous historic inn, the very same girl who had transferred into Class 2-3 that morning.

"It has been quite some time, Kouya-kun. Have you been well?"

Kiyoko addressed Kouya with her soft, elegant tone.

He had no idea why, but the girl who was supposed to be his classmate exuded the composure of an adult. It was completely different from the obligatory self-introduction she had given to strangers that morning; this was a greeting reserved for an old acquaintance.

"Huh?"

Kouya was bewildered.

She had spoken to him with the familiarity of an old friend, but from Kouya's perspective, he had no idea why she was acting so chummy.

But he did feel like he knew her from somewhere.

Wait, have we met before?

—He tried to think, but nothing came to mind, so Kouya decided to do a little probing.

"Kiyoko-san, that's Kansai dialect you're speakin', right? So you're from Osaka?"

"I am from Kyoto. I would appreciate it if you did not lump us together with Osaka."

Kiyoko offered a gentle correction, a serene smile resting on her face.

Sensing the slight thorns hidden beneath her smile, Kouya put his guard up just a bit.

"Uhh... Do you hate people from Osaka or somethin'?"

"Not at all. However, you really must not lump us together. Even if we are both in Kansai, Osaka and Kyoto are entirely different places."

"Uh, right..."

If you don't hate 'em, why do you hate being lumped in with 'em?

"I'm sorry for not letting you know beforehand, Kouya. Her transfer and her trip up to the capital were only finalized last week, so I was quite busy with all sorts of paperwork myself," his grandfather said, stepping between the two of them to apologize.

At Jurou's words, Kiyoko tilted her head curiously.

"Jurou-ojisama, isn't calling a trip from Kyoto to Tokyo 'going up to the capital' incorrect? The capital has always been in Kyoto, after all, so 'going up to the capital' implies traveling to Kyoto."

"Then what else do you call a Kyoto person goin' to Tokyo?" Kouya asked, giving Kiyoko a half-lidded stare.

"I wonder... Descending to the East, perhaps? Or fleeing the capital?"

"Nobody uses those in everyday life, c'mon!"

Stop making things up, Kouya retorted.

"Anyway, Kouya," his grandfather interjected, smoothing back his white hair. "It's short notice, but she'll be living here starting today. She'll likely find herself short on things she needs for daily life, so I want you to teach her the ropes."

"Talk about short notice, man. I literally heard I was getting a roommate ten minutes ago! Way too fast!"

"It's not my fault. It really was decided suddenly. Shizuishi's family has their own circumstances."

"Oh yeah, the historic inn family that got featured on TV or whatever?"

"Don't speak like she's a stranger. You remember Shizuishi's family too, don't you?"

"Huh? What do you mean I remember?"

"What are you saying? Back when you were in elementary school and we sent you to Kyoto—"

Just as his grandfather was about to explain, the intercom rang, cutting the conversation short.

"Delivery!"

The courier had brought even more of Kiyoko's luggage.

"Oh, that is for me."

Kiyoko eagerly checked the shipping label on the cardboard box and signed for it.

After the movers had hauled in all that furniture, now there were delivery boxes on top of it. Kouya stared in exasperation.

"You still got more? You got way too much stuff. What're you even bringin'?"

"A girl requires a great many things."

"Right, sure. Whatever you say. As a special move-in service, I'll carry it up to your third-floor room for you."

Despite his grumbling, Kouya lifted the box left at the back entrance on the first floor.

Like it or not, they were going to be living together from now on, so it was best to build a smooth relationship while he could.

Incidentally, because Jurou's house was a combined store and residence, the stairs leading up to the living quarters were attached to the outside, right next to the back door. Since it was a standard residence, it obviously didn't have an expensive luxury like an elevator.

Thinking it would be a shame to make a girl carry heavy boxes up three flights of stairs with her slender arms, Kouya tried to carry them to her room out of the goodness of his heart—only to be gently stopped by Kiyoko herself.

"You must be quite busy, aren't you? (Translation: You don't need to help me.)"

The Kyotoite girl's face was smiling, but her eyes were entirely dead.

Glancing at the shipping label on the box, Kouya noticed the words Contents: Clothing.

In other words, this box was stuffed to the brim with Kiyoko's panties and bras. Kiyoko absolutely did not want Kouya touching her luggage.

"I can handle the rest myself, so please, Kouya-kun, just head back to your room and take it easy. (Translation: Just hurry up and go back to your room already.)"

Using a roundabout tone, the girl firmly and resolutely refused to let Kouya lay another finger on her boxes.

"..."

This tone... this phrasing... he knew it from somewhere—

In that instant, a forgotten memory flashed through the back of Kouya's mind.

The childhood memories he had completely buried suddenly came rushing back.

————A memory from ten years ago.

Namely, the memory of Torame Kouya, an elementary schooler sent off to live at an acquaintance's house in Kyoto due to his parents' work.

A foreign land called Kyoto, populated by people who possessed a prefectural character of never speaking plainly, preferring to warn you indirectly with layers of sarcasm.

As a kid raised in the downtown Tokyo shitamachi, it had given Kouya no end of trouble.

He finally remembered the childhood friend he had spent a single year with—the girl whose words always carried a hidden meaning.

Since it happened when he was just a kid, he could barely remember the name of the inn run by the couple who took him in, or even the face of their daughter. But he knew she was called "Kii-chan," and he had called her that, too.

"Ah! It's you!"

Kouya clapped his hands together without thinking.

Kiyoko—his "childhood friend Kii-chan"—blinked at Kouya's reaction, then let out a sigh.

"You finally remembered... How heartless of you to forget."

"Huh?"

"Even though you said you would write me letters when you returned to Tokyo."

"A-Ah..."

Did I say that? Did I really say that?

Unable to recall a single thing, Kouya was utterly baffled.

It was a whole decade ago, after all. And he was in elementary school.

It was a common enough tale to forget the things you casually blurted out as a kid a decade prior, but the problem here was that the person he had made those careless promises to apparently remembered them perfectly.

Kiyoko snatched the cardboard box right out of Kouya's hands and spoke.

"It is fine. I am the daughter of merchants, so I understand that social pleasantries exist in this world. Though I must say, it would have been nice if you had written me at least once, Kouya-kun."

"Ah, my bad."

"Well, it cannot be helped. I am sure you had your own circumstances. You have a childhood friend over here as well, do you not?"

"I mean, I've got childhood friends, sure... But what's with the loaded question...?"

"Loaded? Surely it is just your imagination. Judging by your reaction, I suppose you do not remember the words you said to me right as we parted ways, either?"

"Eh."

Kouya was at a complete loss.

Kiyoko let out a soft, faint laugh.

"It is a thing of the past, after all. It is nothing major, so please do not worry about it. (Translation: I am definitely bothered by it.)"

"What's that supposed to mean...?"

"I shall let bygones be bygones, so I would be delighted if we could get along as neighbors moving forward."

Directing a thoroughly professional, customer-service smile at the sweating Kouya, Kiyoko picked up the box of underwear and headed up the stairs.

"..."

After watching her back disappear for a moment, Kouya snapped back to reality.

"Crap, I seriously can't remember. What the hell did past-me say...?"

Kouya racked his brain, but much to his dismay, he simply couldn't remember a thing.

————And thus, "childhood friend Kii-chan" and "Kouya-kun who was dumped at the inn" were reunited, raising the curtain on the Kyotoite Kiyoko-san and Asakusa native Kouya's life under one roof.

☆

Meanwhile, Kiyoko closed the door to the spare room that had become hers starting today.

"Haa," she let out an exaggerated sigh amidst the sea of cardboard boxes.

"I tried to bait him a little, but judging by his reaction, it seems he really does have a childhood friend over here. It must be that girl who came into the staff room with him..."

At this rate, it was as if she had come all the way from Kyoto specifically to destroy Torame Kouya's interpersonal relationships in Tokyo.

But Kiyoko had already finished her transfer paperwork, and thanks to Jurou's kindness, she was now living in the same house.

What's done was done.

"This is no good... If that girl is the one Kouya-kun likes, the right thing to do is to gracefully step aside. From here on out, I must be incredibly careful not to get in the way of their relationship."

Making a silent vow in her heart, Kiyoko hurriedly began unpacking her boxes.