Tokyo, H University, Room C-301.
"Did you guys listen to Hojo-chan's new song yesterday? It's sooo good!"
"I did. I heard she might be doing a concert next month—a Kanagawa stop. Do you want to go?"
"I want to, but who knows if we can snag tickets. It'd be amazing to hear it live…"
"Eh? Takahashi, isn't that bag the same model Hojo Shione uses? I remember it's not cheap—like a hundred and ten thousand?"
"It's fine. I couldn't resist because I like her so much, so I bought it. Thinking about it now, I kind of regret it."
"But it really suits you. Great taste…"
"…"
Girls love to huddle up and gossip; it's always dating rumors, romance dramas, dumb variety shows, or random consumer goods. It was like that in high school; it's still like that in college.
Shiratori Kiyoya had no idea how they could chatter so energetically; to him they were no different from a bunch of grannies gossiping at the village gate.
But none of that mattered.
Right now he was staring hard at a blonde girl in the group. The long blond hair was eye-catching, though the teal tint at the tips was a bit much. She was dressed like a cover model from a fashion magazine, just with a less overtly sexy vibe overall.
Preppy shirt, high-waisted mini skirt, black tights, Doc Martens…
Basically the standard gyaru kit.
Kiyoya really disliked the word "gyaru"—it felt a lot like "delinquent girl" to him—but he had to admit the outfit showed off Takahashi Mio's figure perfectly.
Especially around the waist…
No denying it: Takahashi Mio was a beauty. As much as he hated her chirpy personality over there, he still had to give her face and figure an eight out of ten.
No wonder she stood front and center among the girls.
Still, a glossy exterior doesn't mean she shines in private…
Maybe his stare was too blatant, because Takahashi Mio's brows drew together and she turned toward him. Their eyes met in the air; two seconds passed and Kiyoya still didn't look away. She clicked her tongue.
She was used to guys sneaking glances at her; most, once caught, scurried off like sewer rats. Someone staring this brazenly was annoying.
She shot him a vicious glare.
"Eh? What's wrong, Takahashi-san?" her friend asked, puzzled by the sudden click of her tongue.
"It's nothing."
Mio turned back with a bright smile and picked up the conversation. But inwardly she was wondering whether she'd met him before. Thinking it over, she vaguely remembered someone saying he was in the kendo club?
Whatever. Maybe he was just stunned by her looks—spacing out wasn't surprising.
Mio pressed her lips into a small smile, a little smug about her own charm.
The period went by quickly. During this classical literature seminar she was a bit drowsy; her eyelids kept drooping, and she only fully woke when the bell rang.
A pang of hunger hit her. She stood, tidying up her desk while thinking about lunch, when someone bumped her and she staggered.
"Tch!"
Her knee slammed into the desk, and the spike of pain wiped the expression right off her face. She bent over, clutching her knee.
"Hey, what's your problem? Watch where you're going—are you brain-dead?" her friend snapped, reaching to grab the culprit—only to see the boy in the long-sleeved white shirt already swept along with the crowd to the door.
She could only turn back. "Takahashi-san, are you okay?"
Mio shook her head, frowning as she looked toward the figure that had hit her, trying to see who it was. She was petty—downright small-minded, really. If he got away this time, she would make sure he paid next class.
An apology wouldn't cut it. Minimum: fifty thousand yen.
As if wanting to make sure she remembered him, the "suspect" paused deliberately at the door, turned his head, and met her eyes.
?
Mio blinked. Why was he so cocky?
Before she could huff, the boy at the door pointed at her bag—then vanished from sight.
She looked down on instinct and found the flap of her handbag had been lifted at some point. On top lay a crumpled ball of paper…
…
1:00 p.m.
Mio stepped quickly onto the rooftop of Teaching Building A, brows knitted, her pretty face frosty. But inside she wasn't nearly as angry as she looked; if anything, she was nervous and on edge.
After lunch with her classmates, she'd checked the note the guy had slipped into her bag—during a bathroom break.
What was written there had almost made her knees buckle.
[You wouldn't want your mom to find out about the money you owe, right? I can help. Today at 1 p.m., Building A rooftop. Come alone.]
She had no idea how he knew she'd taken out an online loan.
Do lenders really disrespect customer privacy this much now?
Bastards. I'm not even past due yet—how is my debt info leaked already?
With mixed feelings, Mio pushed open the metal door to the roof.
Squeak—
A blast of hot wind hit her along with the grating sound. The heat stung her eyes and she raised a hand to shield them. When she adjusted, a figure came into view.
A boy in a long-sleeved shirt sat beneath the guardrail, staring at her without moving, pure black eyes full of scrutiny.
Idiot—wearing long sleeves in midsummer. Hope you bake.
Some people fall in love at first sight; Mio, on seeing him, felt her temper flare at first sight.
The wind slammed the door shut with a bang. She strode up, arms crossed, looking down at him from above.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
"No need to get so heated."
Shiratori Kiyoya sat up and looked at her calmly. "Nice to meet you. I'm Shiratori Kiyoya. Pleased to meet you."
"Nice to meet you? Do you have amnesia? Thanks to you, my knee still hurts. That's your idea of 'nice to meet you'?"
"Sorry. Making your knee hurt on our first contact was my bad. But don't worry about that—there'll be plenty of chances to… interact."
"You—!"
It took Mio a beat to catch the innuendo in his words. A flush of angry pink rose to her delicate face. She clenched her hand, fighting the urge to slap him, and demanded:
"Cut the slick talk! What did you mean by that note?!"
As soon as she said it, she glanced around, clearly worried about something. Only after confirming no one else was around did she relax, eyes locking onto Kiyoya.
"Hm?"
He tilted his head, puzzled. "Is that hard to understand?"
"Takahashi-san, you owe money, don't you? A two-million-yen loan—and now you're borrowing to pay back other loans…"
"!"
The word seemed to hit a nerve. Mio's eyes flew wide.
Unfazed, Kiyoya angled his head slightly, his lifeless, deadpan gaze shifting to the handbag in the crook of her arm.
"That hundred and ten thousand was borrowed last week too—so you could buy this."
"Takahashi-san, you really have no plan. You have zero control over your future."
"Want me to tell you just how dark that future looks?"