The days before the end of the holiday were the final days of freedom for students.
Although she wasn't particularly averse to school, in such a special atmosphere, Utaha also wanted to do something to enjoy herself.
So, once again, she headed to the house with cats.
After trudging through the scorching sun, she skillfully entered the gate of Akira's house by inputting the password, then used the key to open the main door with equal familiarity.
The house was quiet and empty, but Utaha wasn't surprised.
When she emailed him earlier, Akira had already told her he wouldn't be home for a while, and she could enjoy the cats freely.
Relieved that there'd be no one fighting her for cat time, Utaha changed her shoes and happily floated from the entrance to the living room.
Just as a cat came walking up to her with a meow, her attention was drawn instead to a guest room door that was left open.
More precisely—Nanami's room.
Though it had already been assigned to Nanami, there hadn't been so much as a bed in it before. It was more of a break room or changing area than an actual bedroom.
But now, the space has visibly changed. It was filled with personal belongings clearly belonging to Nanami, and had become a fully livable room.
"Hmm…?"
She let out a curious hum and her gaze turned sly and amused.
So this is how it is, huh? The little white rabbit was finally fooled by the illusion of safety and coaxed by a seemingly harmless wolf—so she moved obediently into the wolf's den?
The reason she drew such a conclusion was because Nanami had previously shown no intention of moving in.
And Utaha suspected Akira wouldn't force her as the master of the house.
More likely, he used some kind of underhanded but ultimately harmless means—even if exposed, it wouldn't matter.
Being able to see through things like this so easily gave her a brief sense of superiority—as if she saw through everything.
But the moment she remembered why she could see through it so well, that arrogance instantly vanished.
With a sigh full of "shared bitterness," Utaha closed the door and turned to pet the cats instead.
There was no one else at home today, and she had already grown familiar with the cats. She could finally enjoy petting two at once.
But before she could fully sink into this double dose of happiness, she heard movement from downstairs.
A mistress is a status best kept in the dark—even if she wasn't really one.
Utaha was at least somewhat well-known, so she didn't go downstairs right away. Instead, she stepped into Akira's room, which had a window facing the front yard.
Peeking out the window, she saw Akira directing a moving crew as they carried boxes into the house.
So Miss Aoyama is really moving in for good...
...Then how am I supposed to keep being a mistress?
The fact that this was her first thought upon reaching that conclusion surprised even Utaha herself, and her face twisted into a very strange expression.
She thought maybe her brain wasn't working quite right, so she raised her hand and gave her head a light thump.
Then she thought that using violence to "fix" her head like this was even less sane.
Struggling with how to act like a normal person again, she waited until the move was finished and heard Akira's voice coming from downstairs.
"Miss Kasumigaoka, are you upstairs? Could you help me hang that Bagua diagram back up?"
"…Okay."
Utaha replied, then noticed the rolled-up scroll on the desk. When she unrolled it, it was indeed the Bagua diagram he'd mentioned.
She remembered where it originally hung on the wall and carefully picked it up.
But when she looked at it closely this time, she suddenly felt a strange daze—like she was staring into an endless, layered labyrinth garden within the diagram.
The illusion vanished almost instantly, before she could even react.
She frowned and studied the trigram lines more carefully, wondering if she'd been staring at the hedges in the garden for too long and had subconsciously associated their straight-line arrangement with the diagram's horizontal lines, creating some kind of visual confusion.
She hung the diagram back on the wall and looked at it again for a moment before dismissing it as an illusion.
Akira walked into the room, raised a hand to casually greet her—but Utaha just gave a cold "hmph" and walked past him.
Puzzled, Akira turned around and asked, "What's wrong? Not happy that little Nanami moved in?"
At the doorway, Utaha paused for a moment. "No. I have no position to be displeased, and I don't have any feelings of jealousy either."
"Sarcasm?"
"Of course not. Can't you even tell that, Mr. Ogiwara?"
Akira honestly didn't think it sounded like sarcasm, but he also couldn't figure out where this sudden attitude was coming from. "Then what is it?"
"Hmph."
Leaving behind a second "hmph," Utaha returned to her room.
Akira shrugged and gave up trying to figure it out.
A puppy's thoughts were easy to read, but cats were different—because all cats were basically crazy. When they got worked up for no clear reason, no sane person could ever guess what was going through their heads.
And Utaha?
She couldn't exactly say it was because seeing Nanami move in gave her a strange satisfaction from "seeing through it all," only to remember why she understood it so well—which made her feel frustrated that Akira had fooled her into being his "cat." And then she felt even more annoyed because being his cat didn't seem so bad after all.
Nor could she admit that she'd gotten upset because, with Nanami moving in, it'd be hard to continue her "mistress" role—and that realization made her feel like something was wrong with her own head.
Or maybe it was because of what she learned last time about Akira going alone to the fireworks festival—that he was just a stubborn old lunatic—and that memory made her feel annoyed whenever she saw him.
Maybe it was all three. Or none of them. Even she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she was annoyed. That was enough.
Back in her room, she opened her laptop and stared at the blank document, unable to focus.
Her mind kept drifting back to that earlier annoyance, and the more she thought about it, the more irritated she got.
So she grabbed her bag and left the house, deciding to go buy a new nightgown.
Akira had been browsing his computer for something to play, but nothing caught his eye. So he decided to go back downstairs and lose himself in some single-player games.
Just as he reached the stairwell, he saw Utaha coming out of her room, clearly about to head out.
And he thought: She's that mad? Not even going to pet the cats?
"Going somewhere?" Akira asked.
Utaha walked past him with a cold expression, then suddenly remembered how hot it was outside—and how there was air conditioning in the car.
So she turned back and asked, "Wanna come with me to buy a nightgown?"
"…That's it?"
"Or would you prefer I wore just a shirt after my bath, and walked past you in front of Miss Aoyama?"
This hot-and-cold reaction gave Akira a bit of a headache.
If he thought about it logically, Akira would naturally suspect that she liked him—and then he could construct a reasonable internal chain of logic.
Jealousy when Nanami moved in, buying a nightgown with plans to show up in it later, acting aloof, but then remembering her "mistress" identity and inviting him to tag along as a gesture of affection.
But some things didn't quite add up—like how a shirt would actually be more provocative than a nightgown.
And Utaha probably hadn't crossed that emotional line yet. She wasn't likely to fall in love with anyone so easily, let alone be ready to start "spoiling" someone.
So Akira concluded that this whole "maybe she likes me" idea was just a delusion.
Wearing a subtle and conflicted expression, Akira asked, "What about after we buy the nightgown?"
"After?" Utaha thought for a moment, then figured she should throw in something to help lure the cats back.
So she added, "Let's buy some cat snacks too."
"Mm, okay."
Akira answered calmly, but the randomness of her response made his head hurt even more—and once again, he gave up trying to figure her out.
As expected of such an interesting woman—so mysterious, it was impossible to make sense of her.
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