August.
Besides the start of summer vacation and the long-awaited return of Yukino from abroad, there was another matter of great importance to Minamoto Senya.
That was the "Four Bodies" project he had started preparing well in advance.
This science fiction novel was actually the first literary work he had ever replicated when he decided he wanted to become a writer. Following a path proven useful by countless predecessors—though somewhat clichéd—he had produced it meticulously.
He remembered clearly that after finishing the manuscript, and revising certain parts to better fit the trajectory of this world, he had asked Senha to help polish it. Through her connections, he was also able to link up with editor Sonoko Machida.
The editor was blown away by the novel and lavished praise upon him. Such a response from a professional of her caliber gave Senya enough confidence to enter this work into the prestigious Hayakawa Award, a highly respected prize in Japanese science fiction.
Strictly speaking, Astrological Murder Magic was another work he had casually put together in the meantime because the Hayakawa Award's judging period started later than he preferred. This book went on to win the Ranpo Award without much competition, bringing him personal recognition, a wave of media coverage, massive ongoing income, and—most importantly—the admiration of a certain literary girl.
He had tasted success for the first time.
Especially with the last "scenario," even though it had only happened three times, they had essentially unlocked almost all the basic techniques together.
The remaining unconventional parts would take time, considering her physical endurance and capacity. The road ahead remained long and demanding.
Anyway… back on topic.
This August, whether Four Bodies would succeed at winning the prize occupied a crucial step in Senya's carefully mapped-out vision of the future.
If it succeeded, he could leverage his growing reputation to launch a new chapter in his life.
If, by some misfortune, it failed, the impact would be minor. Countless masterpieces existed; he could always try again.
Most importantly, he didn't believe there was anything wrong with the quality of Four Bodies.
If it were to lose, he would suspect the judges or some hidden factor behind the Hayakawa Award, rather than the work itself.
After all, in another dimension, the book had become a cultural phenomenon—so popular that even foreign presidents publicly declared themselves fans.
The derivative products—anime, dramas, merchandise—were countless.
So while he felt a degree of anxious anticipation, it didn't disrupt his daily routine. He kept doing what he needed to do.
On the other side, Yukino, back in Japan for two weeks, had only seen Senya once—right after landing.
By mid-month, the summer vacation was already more than halfway over, and she still hadn't met him again.
Before returning, she had harbored quiet expectations, imagining that once home, she could meet him—or maybe even with everyone—and go to a restaurant together, chat a little, and catch up. A perfectly normal social interaction between friends.
But a week passed, and no proactive invitation came from him.
One late night, while reading, her loneliness finally pushed her over the edge. Using the excuse that she had heard from Eriri and Rikka that he had been busy, she called him herself, subtly expressing her concern and gently reminding him to take care of himself.
The conversation, in Senya's awareness, remained light and pleasant. Toward the end, she timidly asked if he had any free time in the near future.
Senya wanted to say he was free. A rare chance to go out with the Second Young Lady—even if they did nothing but sit in a café with coffee and their own books for the day—would have been a simple pleasure, an exclusive enjoyment only they shared.
But reality would not allow it.
The more relaxed he had been during the short break before summer, the busier his work became afterward.
Besides the new advertisement and the Kendo event, there was now a variety show appearance and a creative conference jointly organized by Kodansha and a local publisher. As the youngest Ranpo Award winner ever, he had to appear as a representative and give a speech.
In short, his schedule was packed with a chaotic jumble of commitments.
So even though the Second Young Lady had bravely taken the initiative, the answer she ultimately received was a quiet, sorrowful refusal.
Even with Senya promising over the phone that he would make time later, perhaps to go to the aquarium to see dolphins or spend a whole day at a cat café, it didn't lift Yukino's disappointment after hanging up.
She wasn't inconsiderate by nature, but the growing distance between them as they matured was becoming increasingly clear, bringing with it a complex sense of loss—like something was slipping from her grasp.
This emotional shift manifested directly in her daily behavior.
Yukino, naturally calm and reserved, became even more withdrawn. The chill she now projected was not aimed at anyone in particular; it was the natural expression of her subdued mood.
Because the younger daughter was about to enter high school, Mrs. Yukinoshita decided not to burden her with extra lessons or tutoring during this summer break.
Even in this unusually relaxed vacation, Yukino had no extra plans. Apart from a shopping trip with Eriri and Rikka, later joined by Saeko, most afternoons were spent at home—either secluded in her room or reading in the study and tea room, fully embracing the persona of a homebody.
Considering it was midsummer, staying inside wasn't unreasonable; going out risked sunburn, and her frail constitution made heatstroke a concern.
Yet Mrs. Yukinoshita, noticing her daughter's unusual mood, couldn't ignore it. She sought counsel from her eldest daughter.
"Should I find a way to help Yukino, who seems off lately?"
That evening, barely having sat down at home, Haruno was summoned to the living room to discuss the matter.
Mrs. Yukinoshita, who long managed the family's affairs with calm authority, displayed her usual composure. But since this concern involved her cherished younger daughter, a subtle trace of worry was visible around her eyes.
"Yukino is almost in high school now—not a child anymore. You shouldn't be so worried, Mother," Haruno said.
"True, but this time feels different. She's withdrawn and unusually cold even toward her father. I'm unsure if something at school abroad affected her or if some other matter is troubling her."
"Mother, don't favor one child over the other," Haruno protested.
"What do you mean?"
"You seem focused only on little Yukino, while ignoring your eldest daughter. Honestly, I've been in a bad mood recently, and you haven't paid attention to me."
"Oh?"
Mrs. Yukinoshita smiled gracefully and took the guitar from Haruno's shoulder.
"Bad mood? You mean staying out late playing in a band until nine p.m.? Or the camera your father helped you buy three days ago so you could go to the beach with friends and practice photography? You've got such a full schedule—you don't seem in the slightest bit unhappy."
Haruno smiled sheepishly. Mrs. Yukinoshita gently tapped her forehead and set the guitar aside.
"As the elder sister, you must help me understand what's bothering Yukino. Even if you can't fix it, at least determine the cause."
"Really? I can answer that on the spot."
"Is that so?"
Mrs. Yukinoshita sat on the sofa, gesturing for Haruno to sit and explain.
"I think… it probably has something to do with Senya," Haruno said.
"Senya?"
It wasn't strange for Mrs. Yukinoshita to hear the name. He had grown up with her younger daughter, and she had long taken an interest in their relationship. The fact that Yukino had been studying abroad had limited the impact, however.
Haruno continued, "Even though he picked her up from the airport, Yukino has mostly stayed home since. I imagine either they had a disagreement, or she feels a bit neglected. I think the latter is more likely—Senya's been incredibly busy, juggling one task after another, sometimes not returning home for several days."
"…"
Mrs. Yukinoshita's expression grew complicated, uncertain how to react.
Haruno leaned over and gently massaged her mother's shoulder. "I know this seems hard to believe. We can try to subtly test Yukino's reaction."
Mrs. Yukinoshita exhaled slowly and composed herself. "How do you intend to test her?"
Haruno teased slightly before leaving the room: "Just wait a moment, Mother."
She returned shortly after, coaxing Yukino into the living room.
"Sister, what are you doing all of a sudden?" Yukino murmured, half-protesting as she was guided to the sofa.
"Just come along obediently," Haruno replied.
Seeing their mother present, Yukino softly addressed her, then looked back at Haruno with an expression of quiet puzzlement.
Haruno explained, "I just thought, since you're finally home, it's been a while since the three of us—mother and us sisters—sat down to talk. Now that we have a chance, why not catch up?"
Her words were warm, but Yukino remained unresponsive.
"Sister."
"Yes, little Yukino?"
"This isn't something you'd normally say. What exactly are you trying to do?"
"I already explained. Whether you believe me is up to you."
Haruno laughed, brazenly pressing her case.
Mrs. Yukinoshita quietly chuckled at Yukino's resigned sigh, remembering the rare sight of her younger daughter unable to resist her sister's antics.
"Mother, didn't Sister come home late today too? Aren't you going to say something?"
"Ah, little Yukino, you're tattling on your sister in front of me, aren't you?"
Mrs. Yukinoshita cleared her throat. "She's already a senior. During summer vacation, the rules don't need to be strict."
"Sorry to disappoint," Haruno said, settling beside Yukino with a triumphant grin.
She claimed this was a long-overdue mother-daughter-sisters chat, but immediately grabbed the remote and turned on a cheerful variety show.
Snowy-eyed Yukino, feeling the weight of her own low spirits, was about to protest—but froze when the screen suddenly displayed… Minamoto Senya.
Her slightly parted lips slowly closed.