This time, although Mahiro didn't say anything aloud, the look he gave Mibu Yozo grew increasingly complicated. The way the old man spoke—why did it feel almost like a deathbed entrustment? Like passing on a final wish?
And then there was the matter of being considered a "pillar" in Mibu's heart.
Yotsuba Mahiro wasn't the type to play dumb or act overly modest. He wasn't pretentious, nor did he shy away from his own desires. If something was in his heart, he would acknowledge it. That was just the kind of person he was.
So, honestly, part of him wanted to nod and accept everything Mibu Yozo implied. He wanted to shoulder it. He wanted to respond straightforwardly.
But there was one problem—his background.
The Yotsuba Family.
Especially the unclear stance of his mother. What was she really thinking? Did she have plans for him that she had yet to reveal? That uncertainty clung to him like a shadow.
But before Mahiro could give an answer, Mibu Yozo himself closed the conversation with a polite smile and returned to the counter where his wife was waiting.
Mahiro exhaled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. Geez… that was heavy.
"Mahiro-kun, did my father… say anything to you?"
A soft, anxious voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Sayaka had rushed over almost the moment he returned to the group. Her face was slightly flushed, her eyes bright with nervous energy.
Mahiro blinked. Just one look at her was enough to tell that this was Erika's handiwork. Sayaka-chan clearly couldn't endure Erika's relentless teasing and had used him as her excuse to escape.
Still, seeing her this worked up stirred something inside him.
Her eyes searched his face, as if he were a lifeline.
Mahiro quickly waved his hand with a small smile. "No, nothing serious. Uncle Mibu is a good man. He just brought up some trivial matters. You don't need to worry, Sayaka-chan."
Yes, trivial. At the end of the day, if the Yotsuba Family truly opposed him, then so be it. He'd sever ties with the Tendo main house if necessary. What's the big deal? He wasn't the type to let others dictate his path forever.
"Is… is that so?" Sayaka's voice wavered. She studied his face, but when she realized he didn't want to elaborate further, she didn't press. Instead, she bit her lip lightly as if trying to calm herself. Her fingers twitched at her side.
And then, after a deep breath, she suddenly grabbed his hand.
"Mahiro-kun… c-come with me! There's something I… I want to tell you."
Her grip was surprisingly strong, leaving him little choice but to follow as she pulled him down the hallway.
Behind them, Mizuki blinked in surprise. "Erika-chan, where are Mibu-san and Yotsuba-kun going?"
Her question silenced the cheerful chatter in the waiting room. All eyes immediately followed the two figures disappearing deeper into the hospital.
"Heh. Looks like she's finally made up her mind," Erika murmured, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
Mizuki tilted her head, utterly lost. "Eh? Erika-chan, what are you talking about?"
"Oh, Mizuki… you're still too young to understand adult matters."
Mizuki: ???
The bespectacled girl's face went blank, as if giant question marks were floating above her head.
Meanwhile, Sayaka dragged Mahiro into a quiet, deserted corner of the hospital. The sterile white walls, the hum of faint fluorescent lights, and the silence made her heartbeat echo even louder in her chest.
Her cheeks burned crimson, and her palms grew damp with sweat. She could barely keep her hands from trembling.
Doki-doki… doki-doki…
"N-n-now, Mahiro-kun…" she whispered, her voice trembling like a plucked string.
Mahiro blinked, tilting his head slightly. "What is it, Mibu-san? By the way, why drag me here all of a sudden? What do you want to say?"
That was what he had intended to ask. But before the words could leave his lips, before his mind could catch up—
A faint fragrance brushed against him.
In the next instant, soft warmth pressed gently against his mouth.
Sayaka, the proud swordswoman of the Kendo Club, was standing on her tiptoes, eyes shut tightly, offering her innocent first kiss to him.
It was like being struck by lightning. Sayaka's body quivered as if electrified, and her heart pounded even harder, each thud echoing in her ears. Mahiro could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with his own, her sweet scent enveloping him completely.
Unconsciously, Sayaka's arms slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. She clung to him tightly, as though afraid that letting go would shatter the fragile dream she had stepped into. Even through the thin fabric of their clothes, Mahiro could feel the feverish heat of her body, as if she had become a furnace lit aflame.
"Mmm…"
The world around them blurred away. Neither knew how much time had passed before Sayaka, finally out of breath, reluctantly loosened her hold.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, shimmering with a watery, alluring glow. Her long lashes trembled, and her pale cheeks burned a deep shade of pink. Though she looked up shyly, her gaze faltered, unable to meet Mahiro's eyes directly.
But her arms refused to release him. Instead, she lowered her heels and gently rested her head against his chest, pressing her ear to listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Mahiro cleared his throat softly, attempting to lighten the air between them. "Oi, Mibu-san… you're making me a bit tired like this. Why don't you let go first? We can talk properly, yare yare…"
Sayaka's grip only tightened slightly, her voice muffled against him. "N-now… Mahiro-kun, do you think I'm… a bad woman?"
Mahiro blinked, taken aback. "Eh? Why would you say something like that?"
Sayaka lifted her head just enough to meet his eyes, and with unshakable determination burning in her gaze, she confessed:
"Mahiro-kun… I like you!"
His breath caught.
The words hit harder than any blade. Sayaka herself didn't know when these feelings had sprouted—perhaps when she was first defeated by him, or when he boldly stood up for her in the gymnasium, defying the Public Morals Committee. Perhaps it was when he fought against Blanche for her sake… or maybe it was simply because Mahiro carried the kind of unwavering strength she had always longed for.
But still—
"I'm just an Ichiko student," Sayaka murmured, her voice wavering. "I'm not that special… and yet I'm monopolizing you here. Compared to me, Senpai Saegusa, Senpai Watanabe, even Miyuki-san, Kitayama Shizuku-san, and Honoka-chan… they would all be far more fitting for you than someone like me."
Her confession spilled out with the dizziness of a heart overwhelmed, perhaps amplified by the lingering intoxication of their kiss.
Mahiro didn't immediately argue. Instead, he lowered his gaze calmly, watching the vulnerable girl in his arms. Slowly, he smiled.
"Mibu-senpai… do you really only measure your worth by magic?"
Sayaka's body shivered. It was the same question he had asked once before in the special reading room. Back then, she hadn't been able to answer. Even now, she still couldn't.
But this time, Mahiro gave her the answer himself.
"Mibu-senpai, even if your magical talent isn't remarkable, you are still the Kendo Komachi whose blade is admired. Your sword style is beautiful and strong—so much so that even Erika acknowledged it."
He gently brushed her cheek with his hand, his voice carrying steady warmth.
"That alone already places you above so many others. Compared to countless Ichiko students, you shine brighter."
Sayaka's eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as his words sank in.
"So don't belittle yourself, Senpai. You are an incredible person—both beautiful and strong."
Her chest tightened, her heart overflowing with emotions she couldn't contain. For the first time, Sayaka felt that perhaps, just perhaps… standing beside Yotsuba Mahiro wasn't a dream too far out of reach.