"I originally thought about just crossing her name off the list."
"But then I asked about the production schedule. Turns out, it's pretty tight. Basically, they'll film the first three episodes, air them, and then shoot the remaining two."
"Which means—even if you manage to hide this from your cousin—your family will find out sooner or later."
"…"
Shiratori Seiya laid out the truth plainly. Mio sat frozen in her chair, leaning forward, clutching the audition form like a lifeline. She hadn't even processed it yet.
Seeing that, Seiya twisted open a bottle of mineral water and handed it to her.
"I told you before—I'll face this with you. And I've got a decent amount of confidence…"
"Things aren't as bad as you think. Whenever you've made up your mind, I'll go home with you and we'll sort it out."
"…"
Hearing that, Mio pressed her lips together and shut her eyes.
Right now, she couldn't really absorb his words. Her heart was a mess—flustered, dizzy, the whole isekai protagonist waking up in a panic energy. This had all happened way too fast, and she wasn't prepared.
The fear curling in her chest made her want to run. Like, Naruto-running-into-the-sunset levels of escape.
She looked up at Seiya, her eyes glistening with helplessness.
Can we do a different drama?
She wanted to say it. But the words got stuck in her throat like a rice ball that wouldn't go down.
She knew all too well how much Shiratori Seiya had done for her. What right did she have to ask that?
Mio felt disgusted with herself for even thinking it. She mentally crumpled up that thought and threw it into the trash bin.
But she still had no idea what to do.
Seiya looked at her gaze—he could vaguely sense that run-away vibe. But he didn't say anything.
Run away once? Fine. But what if the next schedule didn't work either? Would she run again?
Mio had to face this eventually. Even if the timing felt cruel right now, this really was the best arrangement.
He sat with her a while longer, offering some comforting words here and there. But she clearly wasn't listening—her brain had fully entered low-battery mode.
Seeing that, Seiya stood up and patted her shoulder.
"Let's go. I'll take you home. Go back and think it over properly. When you've figured it out, tell me—I'll be right there with you."
"But… try to decide before next week's audition."
"…"
Mio followed him like a zombie from a horror OVA—completely on autopilot, silent the whole way home.
Maybe she didn't want Seiya to worry too much. When she got out of the car and headed upstairs, she managed to force a smile that looked more painful than a shonen protagonist's last stand.
Seiya watched her disappear into the building. For a moment, he kinda regretted not bringing his camera. If he'd captured that expression, showing it to her later would've been hilarious.
Turning the corner, he parked downstairs at his own building. He didn't rush to get out.
It was already dark outside. He stared at the streetlights and sank into deep thought.
Truth was, this whole thing had caught him off guard too. It wasn't just a test for Mio—it was a test for him as well.
A conservative father who'd never approve of the entertainment industry. An overly traditional family…
After mulling it over for a while, Seiya locked the car and headed upstairs.
But the moment he stepped out of the elevator, he spotted his neighbors—the ones who lived around the corner on the other side—still moving boxes at this hour.
Honestly? He didn't know them well. He just remembered a middle-aged woman and an elderly lady lived there. They usually just exchanged nods and "good mornings."
Seeing them busy with no time to chat, Seiya felt a little curious, but there was no room for him to butt in. He simply raised a hand, gave a small smile, and entered his apartment.
Beep.
The living room light spilled into the entryway. Seiya looked down and spotted Hasegawa Saori's shoes by the rack. He wasn't even surprised anymore.
Ever since that night they came back from Yokohama, Saori had been showing up at his place every so often. Her excuse? Helping clean to repay him for finding her a rental.
But lately, it wasn't just cleaning. She'd taken over pretty much everything—laundry, making the bed, you name it. Sometimes she even brought her own clothes to wash. At this point, besides his stuff, the balcony was also airing her tank tops…
Apparently, she'd heard the door open. The girl—wearing shorts and an oversized shirt—suddenly peeked out from the living room.
The moment she saw it was Shiratori Seiya, her previously calm face instantly lit up with a bright, slightly goofy smile. Then she bolted toward him.
"Seiya! Welcome home~!"
The girl launched herself into his arms. Seiya stumbled back—thankfully, the door was right behind him, or they'd both have wiped out. He caught her with both hands, inhaling the lavender scent from her hair.
"You don't have to get this excited every time I come home, you know…"
"Eh?"
Hearing that, Saori stopped rubbing her face against his chest. She lifted her forehead, blinked those big doe eyes, and stared at him calmly.
"Does Seiya… not like it?"
Shifting the girl in his arms, Seiya set his bag aside, knelt down to change his shoes, and said:
"It's not about liking or not liking. It's just… a little hard to get used to…"
They weren't even married. The deepest physical contact they'd had was still just kissing. Yet every time, Saori greeted him like a returning husband.
After a while, it was tough not to feel like they were already married.
"But if I don't keep doing this, how will you ever get used to it?"
Saori asked blankly. Then she stared at the boy's back, tilted her head in thought for a second, and added:
"Does Seiya only start getting used to things after we get married?"
As she spoke, she clasped her hands behind her back, hooked her pinky fingers together like a shy anime girl, stared down at her white socks, and gently kicked Shiratori Seiya's backside.
"Then… let's just get married now," she mumbled softly.
Seiya glanced back at her, then stood up and walked toward the living room with a helpless sigh.
"We can't get married now. City hall's already closed."
"Then tomorrow works, right? That's plenty of time~"
Saori glued herself to his back, following so close that if he stopped suddenly, she'd definitely stomp on his heel.
Thump.
He stopped. She stepped on his heel and bonked her forehead against his back.
But instead of pulling away, she just leaned into him, pressing her face against his shirt. The fine baby hairs on her cheeks brushed against the fabric, making her flush pink despite the white cotton.
"…"
Seiya let her nuzzle for a few seconds, then turned around, put his hands on her shoulders, and held her at arm's length.
"Saori… you know about those train gropers, right?"
*creeps who secretly and inappropriately touch or fondle people on crowded public trains.
"Eh?"
Her clear eyes blinked in confusion.
"But Seiya doesn't keep any of those under his bed. Where are you hiding them?"
*she thought he meant doujins about train gropers/ chikan.
"I'm not hiding anything. I don't have any of those."
"Then Seiya doesn't want them?"
"Don't want them. And honestly? I don't have time to even think about them."
He glanced at the clock, then headed toward the kitchen.
"What do you want to eat today?"
"Whatever Seiya makes, Saori eats~"
"You're surprisingly low-maintenance…"
Compared to Shione and Mio, Saori was basically on easy mode. Maybe this was the universe's compensation for her not being able to earn money?
"Today… I'll make fried rice. And fried noodles."
He'd originally planned just the fried rice, but then remembered the leftover rice from lunch would probably only half-fill Saori's stomach. On second thought, she wasn't that low-maintenance. At least filling her belly took some real effort.
He got to work on autopilot. These days, cooking for Saori had become second nature without him even noticing.
About half an hour later, Seiya emerged from the kitchen carrying a large bowl of chicken-and-egg fried rice and another of yakisoba.
But the moment he set them on the table, he noticed a white piggy bank sitting there.
Saori sat beside it, her long, slender hands folded on the table, staring up at him with hopeful eyes.
He raised an eyebrow.
"What's this?"
"Hmm…"
She pushed the piggy bank toward him, bit her lip shyly, and stammered:
"This is… what Saori has saved since she was little…"
Then she lowered her head, carefully pulled out a worn brown leather wallet from her pants pocket, and opened it. Inside was a bank card and a few small bills.
"This is money Saori saved from part-time jobs—from high school all the way through this semester…"
She pushed both the piggy bank and the wallet toward him.
"It's all here."
Her voice trailed off. She looked at the tired lines on Shiratori Seiya's face, her heart aching. Reaching out, she cupped his cheek gently.
"Saori only has this much… but can it help lighten Seiya's burden a little?"