"So, you actually have a girlfriend?"
Shiratori Kiyoya was driving when Takahashi Mio suddenly blurted that out of nowhere.
"Hm?"
While waiting at a light, he glanced over. Mio had raised a hand and was running her fingertips over the car's headliner.
That wasn't enough—like she wanted proof, she took a picture with her phone, then held it up for him to see.
"This must be her special seat, right?"
Kiyoya looked at the photo on the screen:
"Kiyoya's first car. I hope I can be with him forever."
"…"
The light turned green. He faced forward and hit the gas without responding.
Seeing him go quiet, Mio put her phone away. After a moment's thought, curiosity got the better of her.
"So… are you two broken up or not?"
"Broken up."
"Oh."
Mio nodded, relieved she wouldn't be the other woman. As for whether he was telling the truth—she didn't really doubt it.
With that infuriating personality of his, most people wouldn't put up with him, right?
Still, for someone with that much money, what could've made her dump him?
Lounging back, a string of thoughts flickered through her head.
Her competitive streak kicked in.
Now she was curious: what did his ex look like? Was she prettier than Mio?
Probably not… right?
The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to know.
At the third red light, she couldn't hold back.
"What does your ex look like? Can I see?"
She put heavy stress on "ex."
It wasn't about staking a claim—more just pure female jealousy.
"In the glove box. There's a photo in there."
"Oh."
Mio nodded, face blank—though inwardly she was sniping.
Already broken up and already dating someone new, and he's still keeping her photo?
Can't let go—classic scumbag move.
She swallowed the irritation and opened the compartment.
But what she found made her blink.
It wasn't a photo at all, but a stack of promo posters.
At first glance the woman on them looked familiar—strikingly pretty.
When she pulled one out, Mio arched a brow, barely suppressing a laugh.
"You're telling me Hojo Shione is your ex?"
"Mm."
Kiyoya nodded calmly, eyes on the road.
Mio's rosy lips parted. She looked at his profile, wanting to say something—anything.
He didn't show a hint of embarrassment.
She took a deep breath and forced down the word on her tongue: hysterical.
She'd meant to ask why they broke up, but now she couldn't be bothered.
His face was thicker than the atmosphere.
A super-popular teen idol, debuted second semester of her second year in high school.
Within a year she'd won the Kansai Youth Singer Award.
Heavenly voice, knockout looks—easily a match for Mio.
And she had a killer team writing and composing for her.
Every song more of a classic than the last.
Aside from the wide range of styles, there was nothing to complain about.
Mio especially loved "Jealous (ヤキモチ)" and "Sakura Kimi Watashi." She'd cried watching her perform them on TV…
How could Hojo Shione possibly have been his girlfriend?
Just as Mio was about to be completely done with Kiyoya, he suddenly asked:
"You're a Shione fan?"
Mio snapped back, shot him a sideways look, and smiled without warmth.
"Yeah. I've followed her since debut. I listen to all her songs."
Because he'd just given her a big chunk of money, she held back from snapping. Normally she'd have been full-on snark:
"I'm her fan, so drop the act. She's a genius idol—no way she dated you."
That was what she meant.
She figured even with skin as thick as his, he'd at least look a little embarrassed.
Instead, he tossed her something she didn't know what to do with.
"You've seen her sing on TV, right? How do you think she looks on stage?"
"Eh? How?"
"Yeah—how."
"Uh…"
Mio hesitated, then said what she really thought:
"If I have to say… beautiful, dazzling. She's never once frozen up. Just… so cool…"
Kiyoya couldn't help a smile inside.
As if she'd never been nervous.
It's just that her first performance wasn't on TV.
It was a high school competition.
Shione had been so rattled she sweated into the mic, shorting it out so it stopped working.
He'd swapped it out in time, but once she came offstage she clung to him and cried for ages.
It took a long while to calm her down.
Scene after scene flickered through his mind, and he felt a twinge of emotion.
Even someone as gifted as Shione had moments of fear…
He glanced at Mio, as if seeing a shadow of Shione in her.
A gentle smile touched his face.
"You could do it too. If you want, you can stand on a stage that makes everyone stare—blinding them with how bright you are."
"…"
Mio froze, staring at that smile. Her heart gave a little jolt.
Her lips parted and she gaped at him.
Huh?
Huh—?!
What are you even talking about?
Saying something that cheesy out of nowhere—I'm embarrassed for you!
Idiot!
...
7:00 p.m.
Toting more than a dozen shopping bags, Mio slumped into the corner of the elevator, eyes unfocused.
When the indicator hit 7F, she shambled out like the walking dead.
She punched in her door code.
Thunk.
As soon as she was inside, she dumped the bags on the floor.
She kicked off her shoes, couldn't be bothered to find slippers, and padded barefoot through the living room straight to her bedroom.
Whump.
She flopped onto the soft bed and the ache in her whole body ebbed a little.
She couldn't keep her eyes open.
How could a date be this exhausting?
Forget "sweet"—it shouldn't be this tiring, right?
It felt less like a date and more like a full day hauling bricks at a construction site.
Arms ache, back ache, waist, legs, knees, ankles—
Even her toes throbbed.
Meanwhile Kiyoya acted like nothing had happened. Was the man made of iron?
Bzz, bzz, bzz.
Her phone buzzed in the bag on the floor.
Mio stared blankly at the ground.
She thought about answering, but her body honestly refused to move.
When the vibration sounded a second time, she finally came to.
Like a horror-movie crawl, she slid off the bed toward the floor…
Stretching her arm and fingers to their limit, she hooked the strap and tugged the bag closer.
She fished out the phone. It was Haruno Rika. She hit answer.
"Hello?"
"…"
"Hello? Mio?"
No response—Rika called again.
"Mio?"
"Mm… I can hear you…"
"…"
Hearing her drained voice, Rika fell silent for a moment, then asked carefully:
"What's wrong? Isn't your period the same week as mine?"
"No… Just… exhausted."
Talking face-down was tiring—and hard on the chest. Mio shifted into something more comfortable, twisting herself up like a pretzel.
Rika yelped.
"Huh? You didn't give it up to him, did you?"
"Ugh, what are you even—"
Mio frowned, shut her eyes, and explained weakly:
"Today… I walked… over six hours…"
"You two run a marathon?"
"A bit of an exaggeration, but… close."
Rika's phrasing felt weirdly accurate.
"We went shopping, then lunch, then he took me to do my hair, then a movie, and then a runway show…"
"Uh… that's a lot, but not insane, right?"
"Rika."
"Mm?"
"Last semester's fitness test—you couldn't outpace me, right? In high school P.E. you couldn't either, right? And I did gymnastics club—you remember?"
"Mm…"
"So if I'm wiped, you think you would hold up any better?"
"…"
Rika had no comeback.
With her silent, Mio stared up at the ceiling, mulling over the day's details, and muttered:
"He's not right. Way too weird."
"Weird? As in how?"
"In every way."
"Today he asked if I wanted to be famous, to act, to be the center of attention…"
"And he said Hojo Shione was his girlfriend…"
"Oh—and Rika, aside from that last part, I'll admit it: I'm kind of tempted…"