Chapter Three: Because There’s Only One in This World
Whether it’s healthy or unhealthy, I’ve long since stopped questioning it.
After school, I head to the clubroom—studying alone, reading novels, sometimes dragged into someone’s brilliant new games, trying (and sometimes failing) to rein in the chaos.
These routines are etched into my daily schedule like math or English class—a daily obligation. It’s exhausting, but the upside is that weekends finally mean freedom from all of it.
To sum up: I’m lucky. Today was no different—just as blissfully ordinary.
I woke up at almost the same time as a weekday, no plans in mind. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and stood by the dining table chugging milk from a glass when our cat, rudely leapt onto the kitchen counter and started meowing, “Feed me, dummy.” I tossed her dry food.
It was 8:30 a.m. As I nibbled toast in the living room, a news show droned on about a powerhouse school winning the spring Koshien tournament. Nice weather—their team’s probably training hard today. Me? All I’ve got is trimming my nails. I mused blankly.
“…Huh?”
My phone buzzed on the table. The caller ID flashed the icon and [Saiin Sakuya’s] name. My spine tingled instinctively—“Geez!”—and I groaned.
I glared at the screen like it was the enemy, the air thick with impending doom, when—
“Mornin’! Onii-chan. Fuwaa~…”
A yawned greeting cut through the silence. A girl in a baggy sweatshirt and shorts shuffled in—Komori Otoha, my blood-related younger sister, now a third-year middle schooler.
Her hair, dyed and permed just shy of school rule violations, radiated a desperate desire to stand out.
“Ugh, Otoha, can I have toast too? …Hey, what’s wrong?”
She blinked, noticing my stiff posture on the couch.
“Nothing.”
“Right. Anyway, bacon and eggs too…?”
She lost interest quickly, scrolling on her phone—probably searching for “delicious toast recipes” or something.
My phone buzzed again, but the call had already ended, leaving a missed call icon.
“…I’ll just say I was sleeping.”
This definitely isn’t good news, and weekends are sacred. Hopefully, she won’t show up here uninvited… I told myself, when—
“Heyyy, long time no see! Nooo, I’m totally awake—”
Her voice brightened unnaturally, an octave higher than when she talked to our family.
Otoha, clutching her phone, bounced her shoulders and waved her free hand wildly. Even on calls, she’s a drama queen. Unlike me, she’s a social butterfly—never clingy, never “Ew, gross!” about her brother. A “normal” sister, really. Easy enough to live with.
I stood up, planning to fake-sleep as an alibi, when—
“Hey, Onii-chan! Are you free today?”
“Hm? Yeah, but…”
What’s it to you? My questioning glance goes ignored.
“HE’S FREE!”
Otoha switches back to her “outside voice,” cheerfully informing whoever’s on the call.
“……Hey, who are you talking to?”
Hang up. Now. Before I can snatch the phone, my sister thrusts it at me with a “Here!”
“‘She says take over,'”
” ………… “
The movie where Schwarzenegger character says, “You’ve been erased,”—what was that title again?
I sighed, holding the phone to my ear.
“…Hello?”
[“Tsubasa-kun~? How cruel~! Ignoring my call like that~!”]
Her voice was sticky-sweet, nothing like a normal morning call. I froze.
[“Minus one million points to Slytherin!”]
“Slytherin’s your house, you witch!”
Her laughter screeched through the speaker. I nearly smashed the phone.
[“Such a useless struggle~”]
“What? What the hell? This is creepy!”
[“Don’t make Otoha-chan suffer. You know you can’t escape my evil clutches~”]
“Y-You’re literally the devil…”
But Otoha and Sakuya-senpai did know each other—unfortunately, Otoha even calls her “Sakuya-nee,” so exchanging contacts wasn’t a shock.
My fault for lax supervision. I’d have to school her later on how toxic that friendship is.
[“So, Tsubasa-kun! Let’s meet at 10. Location? The station near your—”]
“Terrible signal. Why the rush?”
[“Time’s come. Plus, a new club member joined! Let’s celebrate with a welcome party. Club = party, party = club! Skip, and you’re a loser~”]
I brushed aside the kind of nonsense banter that only makes sense to freshmen who just joined university clubs.
“Isn’t this sudden?”
[“When the mood hits, right?”]
“You could care less about others’ schedules, huh.”
[“Pfft, you’ll make time. Anyway, I’ve told Maon and sensei Hikami. so don’t worry！”]
“Even the sensei’s coming…”
[“Nyahaha~! Free food, free karaoke, free bowling~!”]
Ugh. Of course. She’s scheming again.
“Just curious. What happens if I bail?”
[“Nothing~ But I might slip up and tell everyone about…”]
“Haah? slipping is just my default setting…”
[…Huh? You mean like that girl who confessed to you in 1st year? You brooded three days straight, then told her, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t want to belong to anyone right now—’]
“Aaaaaaah! Fine, I get it! I’ll go! Happy now? Ugh!”
With the ultimate guilt-trip card played against me, I had no choice but to cave.
“…Yeah. Later, then.”
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I hung up, completely drained. Yaaay, gourmet food, woo-hoo. Even my attempts at childish self-comfort couldn’t raise the corners of my mouth a single millimeter.
“Ugh, just get together already, you two. Hell, you’re practically at marriage age!”
Otoha, unable to suppress her grin, poked me in the ribs. “Nyahaha~”
——Ah, right. In this idiot’s head, Saku-senpai and I are already that kind of relationship.
This unbearable, meddling vibe… feels like it’s been a while. No, seriously—it has been a while.
“If you need help ‘sealing the deal,’ just say the word! Leave it to me~”
“Why are you so invested in this?”
“To secure Sakuya-neechan’s superior genes for the Komori family bloodline!”
“She’s not your ‘neechan.’ No matter how you spin it, We’re not related.”
“Eh? You used to call her ‘Saku-nee’ back in—”
“…Drop it. Seriously. Drop it.”
Turns out the real informer is the sister under your nose. Oblivious to my death glare, she chuckled.
“Good for you, though. You’ve been closer lately.”
“……”
“Invite her over! Like old times! Mom’ll complain, but I’ve got your back!”
She’s nothing like me. A thoughtful sister, at least.
The meetup spot was a Keio Line station within walking distance. Not that we’d take the train anywhere—
As befitting the city’s largest train station, the building complex houses a shopping center, while the adjacent mega-mall has everything from a movie theater and arcade to a chiropractic clinic, an ENT office, and even a civic hall. With all the essentials covered, whether for entertainment or daily needs, there’s little reason to go elsewhere.
For the average citizen, it’s a godsend—but too convenient, really. The idea of venturing farther out gradually fades. Frankly, I’ll probably live my whole life without ever seeing the real Tokyo—you know, places like Shibuya, Daikanyama, or Ginza.
“Know your place, I guess.”
The sky glimpsed between the trees was almost too clear, a flawless blue.
After leaving the residential area, the population density climbed steadily, peaking near the glass-walled station building. Given it was a weekend, buses and taxis lined the underpass—yet it wasn’t stifling enough to bother even a crowd-averse guy like me. A small mercy.
I arrived at the designated meeting spot: the station’s open deck, marked by a windmill-shaped sculpture. Since I was way earlier than the agreed time, I was the first one there. Not that I was excited—just your average high school boy with no makeup or hair straightener to fuss over. If this were a date, maybe I’d have put in some effort. But reality is cruel. As I watched the passersby, a familiar sense of alienation settled in. Then—
“Huh?”
Clink. Ssshhhk— A leather pass case slid to my feet, its hamster-shaped appliqué (likely an afterthought) catching my eye. I’d seen it tumble from the bag of a woman who’d just breezed past, already strides ahead.
I scooped it up and chased after her, catching up just before the ticket gates.
“You dropped this.”
The woman turned, puzzled—then, spotting the case in my hand, her face cleared. “Oh! Sorry!” She yanked out her wireless earbuds and bowed.
“Thank you so mu—…ch?”
As she met my eyes, I muttered “No problem,” quietly impressed by her politeness. Looks can be deceiving.
And deceiving they were. She was clearly from a different world. Her hair—a high-maintenance, flipped-out mid-length cut—paired with a vivid spring jacket over a shoulder-baring mini dress that hugged every curve. Hoop earrings, pin heels flashing bare legs, and a pricey chain-strap mini bag completed the look. To put it bluntly? A social butterfly. The kind that flutters around Minato-Ward after dark.
The makeup that accentuates her gaze looks pretty mature,” I thought, getting captivated by her unpolished charm, when—
“Huh?”
The older sister froze mid-action, still holding the transit pass case.
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