And so, the end between him and her quietly began.

Page 1 of 3

After leaving the student council room, he descended the stairs and returned to the first floor. Finding the hall deserted, the young man leaned against the wall and let out a long breath.

To play the role of someone he liked, or someone he disliked, was a simple matter. But to act as his former self—there, performance was not the key. Even for Tsukimiya Tsukasa, the thought of it filled him with deep aversion.

Indeed, attempting to sever ties with the past only trapped him deeper within its confines.

From what Tsukimiya Tsukasa knew of Hoshinomori Hoshino, she was not one to let things go easily. If she seized upon this incident, their paths would inevitably cross again.

He rubbed his brow, feeling a dull ache in his head.

“Ah… yesterday’s nice guy.”

A girl’s voice drifted from somewhere nearby. Tsukimiya glanced toward the main entrance—no one was there.

“What are you looking for?”

The voice came from directly below.

A petite girl was crouched on the floor, her arms like lotus roots propped before her, hands cupping her chubby, impossibly elastic cheeks. She gazed up at Tsukimiya from below.

Had Tsukimiya been wearing a skirt, she would have seen everything beneath it.

How did she move so silently?

He shifted a few steps away. The girl straightened up, craning her neck to look at him; even standing, her head didn’t reach the level of Tsukimiya’s chest, giving her the air of a middle schooler—at least in terms of height.

“And you are…?”

“Me? I’m Yo, Yomiya Yo. Night Dew Death Crew DA★ZE! Partner!”

Par… Partner?

Grinning broadly, she waved at him. “Hey, partner, crouch down for a sec, will you?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t dawdle. I said crouch, so crouch.”

Tsukimiya was utterly baffled, as if a passerby had handed him a carrot while he was on the phone.

Once he crouched, the girl suddenly looped her arm around his shoulder.

Startled, Tsukimiya barely had time to react before the diminutive girl, her face full of mischief, leaned in and whispered conspiratorially into his ear,

“That student council president ate my yokan. Now she has to obey me. Soon, Shinsakura High will be mine—mwa-ha-ha!”

Hey, hey, where did this villain come from?

It was the first time Tsukimiya had ever encountered a girl who actually laughed “mwa-ha-ha.”

Wait, was there really yokan in that envelope?

Page 2 of 3

“If I could help it, I’d never come to the old school building. How annoying! If only I had a hypnosis app, I’d make her pay. First, I’d have her wear a collar…”

“Stop! Where did you even learn words like that?”

“My big brother’s dirty comics under his bed. Isn’t that where all otaku hide things? Under the bed or in the closet. No originality at all.”

Poor, unfortunate Yomiya brother, whom I’ve never even met.

Tsukimiya extricated himself from the girl’s arm, slipping out from under her and stepping back a few paces.

Yomiya Yo glanced at Tsukimiya, then at the stairwell nearby.

“Tsukimiya-senpai, did you just come from the student council?”

“Well… something like that. Do you know me?”

“I don’t, but I’ve seen your name.”

That infamous reputation really precedes me, Tsukimiya thought wryly.

“Every time the exam results are posted, your name is at the top of the second-years.”

“…”

He wanted to comment on being called “top seat,” but felt that nitpicking would be a loss, so he held his tongue.

“There are only three top students in the entire school. I’m first-year, the president is third-year.

“It’s only just the start of the second semester, and the only people the student council would summon two days in a row are me, the first-year top student, and you, the second-year top student.

“How’s that! My brilliant deduction!”

Tsukimiya raised an eyebrow in surprise.

So she wasn’t a fool after all.

The short girl—Yomiya Yo—stood proudly, hands on her hips, thrusting out a chest even more meager than Sakura Sakamichi’s.

It wasn’t that Tsukimiya felt any particular rivalry; he was simply intrigued by this slightly eccentric underclassman.

Above all, a girl who could so casually sling her arm around his shoulder was a first.

An interesting… child.

“Are you here to see the president?”

“That’s right. She keeps asking me to join a club, but I have zero interest in that sort of thing. It’s such a pain. I bet you were pressured too, right?”

“You’re pretty sharp.”

“Heh heh—”

“Well, good luck then. See you.” Tsukimiya waved.

“Huh, you’re leaving already, senpai?”

Page 3 of 3

“What else?”

“Don’t you want to see me take down the president barehanded, leave her speechless, and bring Shinsakura High under my command—wait, senpai!”

Tsukimiya was already nearly ten meters away.

“At least let me finish!” the girl cried, racing after him and grabbing the hem of his uniform from behind.

“Sorry, I have things to do. Very important things.”

“What things?” she pressed.

“I’m still thinking about it,” he replied.

So much for being a proper Tokyoite, Tsukimiya thought.

“I see. Well, tell me when you figure it out, then.” She nodded with surprising earnestness.

Tsukimiya wasn’t sure what expression to wear and settled for a distant smile.

“So… would you mind letting go now?”

Just as he spoke, footsteps sounded from the stairwell above.

Hoshinomori Hoshino glanced at Yomiya Yo’s hands, still clutching Tsukimiya’s uniform, then let her gaze slide past Tsukimiya’s face to settle on Yo.

“Yomiya, you’re here. I was just about to come find you.”

“Oh, president.”

As Yo released her grip, Tsukimiya, caught off guard, stumbled forward.

Hoshinomori Hoshino, equally unprepared, could only stand frozen as the boy came hurtling toward her like a shaken can of soda finally opened.

Their eyes met, each seeing the other’s reflection growing larger in their pupils.

His indoor shoes squeaked sharply against the floor, followed by the heavy thud of bodies colliding.

The familiar sensation, the familiar scent, the familiar heartbeat—like colored ink dropped into a basin, everything spread and seeped through the depths of the boy’s heart.

Outside, the soft rays of late autumn filtered through the leaves, leaving dappled patterns of light and shadow across the faces of the boy and girl.

Blue hair fanned out across the floor, each strand seeming to possess a will of its own, framing a face tinged with surprise and embarrassment.

Gazing into her eyes, for a moment, Tsukimiya felt as though time were rewinding, memory pulling him back to that summer fireworks festival.

He lingered there, unable to rise.

Yomiya Yo looked down at her small hands, then glanced away guiltily from the scene of the boy pinning the girl to the floor.

“Uh… this isn’t my fault.”