If you can't be certain, it's best not to make promises lightly.
Shiratori Seiya understood this principle well. He didn't want to hand Hojo Suzune false hope—after all, no one could predict what twists the future held. But when he looked at her face, so full of expectation and longing, when he remembered that today was her birthday… the words of discouragement he'd been about to utter suddenly lodged themselves in his throat, unwilling to come out.
Just as he was about to speak, another face flashed unbidden through his mind—Hojo Shione's, streaked with tears.
"Do you really think I like music? Do you really think I enjoy singing from morning till night every day…?"
"Seiya?"
The boy before her had gone silent for too long. Suzune tilted her head, calling his name softly.
"Ah…" Shiratori Seiya blinked, snapping back to the present. He looked at her rosy-cheeked face and asked, "Suzune… do you actually like playing the piano?"
"Eh?"
Her heart gave a small skip. She sensed something unusual beneath the question, and answered quickly—perhaps too quickly.
"Of course I do! I've been playing since I was little, Seiya—you know that. My sister might sing well, but she never puts in any effort. I used to practice seven or eight hours a day…"
Seven or eight hours.
Shiratori Seiya turned the words over in his mind. When he'd first learned she played piano, Suzune had already been a first-year in high school. Which meant she must have started practicing back in middle school.
Still so young.
If she didn't truly love it, she wouldn't have kept at it for so long.
A quiet sigh escaped him. He reached out and patted Suzune's head, his hand gentle atop her silky hair.
"Then you've been working a little too hard, Suzune."
At the unexpected touch, Suzune's small frame went rigid for a moment. Then a warmth spread through her, starting from where his palm rested and flowing all the way down to her toes. She couldn't help herself—she rose slightly on her toes, pressing lightly into his hand, her eyes squinting shut as a foolish, blissful giggle slipped from her lips.
"So… can you?" she pressed, her voice hopeful. "Will Seiya write songs for me in the future?"
"I can't promise anything. I probably won't reach that level in my lifetime. Piano compositions are still way beyond my abilities."
Hojo Suzune, however, had developed a highly refined filtering system when it came to Shiratori Seiya's words. She bypassed his lengthy disclaimer entirely and latched onto the one glimmer of possibility. Her pretty face lifted toward him, eyes sparkling like freshly polished gems.
"So… you mean there's a chance? In the future?"
"…Yeah."
"Yay!"
As if she'd just received a solemn vow, Suzune bounced up and down with unbridled joy.
"Careful," Shiratori Seiya called out, already regretting his answer a little.
"Haha~!"
She spun around in sheer delight, her smile brighter than the waterfall glittering in the afternoon sun. The path along Mount Takao's Biwa Falls wasn't steep by any means, but it was narrow—and notably lacking in guardrails. Watching her twirl like an overexcited hummingbird, Shiratori Seiya genuinely worried she might tumble straight into the water below. Without thinking, he reached out and caught her slender wrist.
"Let's go."
"Oh."
The moment his fingers wrapped around her wrist, Suzune seemed to flick a switch inside herself. All her manic energy drained away, replaced by sudden, profound docility. She answered meekly, eyes lowered, cheeks stained pink as she let him guide her forward.
But after a few steps, her gaze crept upward, drawn inexorably to the breadth of his shoulders.
Her vision blurred without warning. Everything around her—the trees, the water, the dappled sunlight—seemed to dissolve into soft, hazy light. Only Shiratori Seiya remained sharp, vivid, real.
This scene had lived in her dreams for so long.
In the past, she'd only ever been brought along when he and her sister went out together. And her sister—who kept everything precious to her locked away like a possessive wolf—made absolutely certain that Suzune never got to be alone with Seiya.
The more she was denied, the more her heart yearned. The more she yearned, the more she longed. The more she longed, the more it ached.
She wanted to walk down narrow paths holding his hand. She wanted to bask in the sunlight beside him, breathing in his scent. She wanted to keep watching him, to walk together with him, so far and so long that they'd never have to stop.
As they crossed the bridge near the waterfall, tears slipped unbidden down her cheeks—but her heart had never felt happier.
Seiya… I love you the most.
....
They made it up Mount Takao with only a single stop at a rest area. Shiratori Seiya glanced at his phone.
13:14.
They'd started climbing around 10:30, which meant just over two hours of walking, pausing here and there along the way. He'd taken quite a few photos of Suzune during that time—she was clearly prepared for this. Her small handbag contained not just a change of clothes but also makeup, sunscreen, bandages, and even a proper camera.
Photos weren't allowed at the shrine itself, so Shiratori Seiya had positioned her by the waterfall and on the bridge instead. After they reached the summit, they found the sign marking this as one of the "Kanto's 100 Best Fuji Views." Unfortunately, clouds had rolled in thick, obscuring any glimpse of Mount Fuji.
He settled for taking a few more shots of Suzune against the hazy scenery.
He had to admit, though—both Hojo sisters were ridiculously photogenic.
They just had different vibes.
Shione was elegance personified, the kind of gentle beauty who made you think of spring breezes and quiet evenings. Every now and then, an unintentional tenderness would slip through her composed exterior, making her look less like an idol and more like someone's devoted wife.
Suzune, on the other hand, was petite but carried an undercurrent of allure in her pretty features. When sunlight caught her just right, that subtle seductiveness sharpened into something almost dangerous.
Shiratori Seiya glanced at her through the viewfinder, then immediately looked away. He pressed the shutter and handed the camera over for her to see.
Suzune's eyes lit up. She bit her lip, a mischievous smile curving her mouth as she looked up at him. "Just as I thought—Seiya takes really good photos."
"…"
Recognizing the deliberate tease in her voice, Shiratori Seiya opted for strategic silence. He turned toward the ramen shop next to them instead.
"You must be hungry. Let's eat, then take the cable car down."
At that, Suzune's face scrunched up. "Why the cable car?"
Shiratori Seiya didn't answer. He simply glanced meaningfully at the sweat still drying on her forehead, then let his gaze drop to her slender legs.
Suzune caught the implication immediately. Her small fist came up to punch his shoulder—gently, more of a playful push than anything with force. "Meanie! You always look down on people…"
She couldn't bring herself to hit him properly anyway. The moment her knuckles made contact, her strength evaporated, turning the motion into something softer, more intimate—the kind of push a girlfriend might give her boyfriend.
...
After a moment of grumbling and mock-punishment, she seemed to settle. She grabbed Shiratori Seiya's sleeve and tugged him toward the shop.
"Come on. It's my birthday, so I'm treating you."
Shiratori Seiya glanced up at the price board as they entered. Chashu Ramen: ¥950. Extra toppings: ¥100.
Typical mountaintup pricing. "Ramen's expensive up here. Did you win the lottery or something? Besides, it's your birthday—I should be the one treating you."
Suzune ignored him entirely. She turned to the counter staff with practiced ease. "One tonkotsu ramen, and one chashu with chicken leg. No green onions on the chashu, please. Thank you."
She paid before Seiya could protest, then pulled him toward a corner seat. "Nope, no lottery winnings. But spending money on Seiya makes me happy. And today, making me happy is your job, isn't it?"
She blinked at him, her eyes clear and bright, her expression silently saying: You can't really refuse that, can you?
After a pause, she dropped her gaze, a fresh wave of shyness coloring her cheeks. Her voice softened to a murmur. "I admit… I have a bit of a selfish reason. I want Seiya to remember the good things about me. That way, you'll remember my birthday too…"
She peeked up at him through her lashes. "It's a little unfair that you only remember my sister's."
Something stirred in Shiratori Seiya's chest. His expression stilled, and he swallowed once before nodding.
"If that's the case… I won't forget."
Her face broke into a radiant smile. "That's even better!"
....
They took their time eating. Suzune would take a bite of noodles, then chatter for two or three sentences—some about Seiya's university life, some about her own trivial affairs. Her thoughts jumped from topic to topic without clear logic or purpose.
She just wanted to talk.
She wanted to pour out every single day they'd been apart, to cram all the emptiness into a single breath. She wanted to hear what had happened to him since they'd last seen each other, to absorb every detail.
As if, by doing so, she could weave herself back into those days when he hadn't been there. As if, by knowing everything, she and Seiya might never have been separated at all.