Hōjō Shione's voice had always been gentle.
She deliberately lowered her tone, soft as silk brushing against the ear, as if afraid that her sudden words would startle him from his thoughts.
"Ah, no."
Meeting the girl's questioning gaze, Shiratori Seiya put down his pen and shook his head. "The food is very good. I was just thinking about some things and got lost in thought."
Hearing this, Hōjō Shione smiled helplessly, her face carrying an expression of "I can't do anything with you."
She hung the bag she was carrying on the back of a nearby chair and sat down beside him. The scent of her perfume—something floral and delicate—drifted through the air.
She picked up the chopsticks Shiratori Seiya had placed beside his bowl, took a piece of chicken thigh meat, and gently placed it into his bowl. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at the book on photography resting in his hand and asked softly:
"Are you thinking about Takahashi Mio?"
"Ah, something like that."
Shiratori Seiya clipped his notebook into the book and capped his pen. He knew that although Hōjō Shione didn't outwardly show any aversion toward Takahashi Mio at the moment, the two of them actually didn't get along. A few mornings ago, they had met and even argued in front of him. If they met in private, who knew what kind of verbal sparring match would ensue.
But Shiratori Seiya felt they wouldn't come to blows no matter what—Mio was all talk. In reality, she was a coward to her core, the kind of person who talked big but folded under pressure.
Still, he didn't want to mention one in front of the other. After some thought, he said, "Actually, I'm thinking more about you."
"?
Hōjō Shione froze, a ripple appearing in her moist, luminous eyes. Her chopsticks hovered in mid-air for a brief moment before she recovered.
...
After realizing what he'd said, she unconsciously swallowed and let out a small chuckle to cover her surprise. "Me? Why would you be thinking about me?"
Even though she was clearly trying to control her reaction, Shiratori Seiya could still hear a distinct tremor in her voice—like a string plucked too hard, vibrating with unspoken emotion.
He didn't answer directly, instead asking, "I remember your contract is about to expire soon, isn't it? It should be in January next year, right? Have you decided which company to sign with?"
"I..."
Hōjō Shione opened her mouth, then slowly lowered her gaze. She stared at her tightly clenched, pale hands—fingers interlocked so firmly her knuckles had gone white. "I'm still considering."
As she spoke, she lifted her face and offered Shiratori Seiya a smile—one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Anyway, there are still three months. Given such a terrible performance at the last concert, they might not necessarily be willing to sign under the originally agreed-upon terms..."
She paused, then couldn't help but ask, "Why, Seiya, are you suddenly asking about this?"
Seeing that she insisted on knowing, and perhaps moved by some lingering emotion, Shiratori Seiya pursed his lips. "Is that so strange? Even as a friend, it's okay to show some concern, isn't it?"
Friend?
Hearing Shiratori Seiya use that word, Hōjō Shione felt a sharp pang in her chest—like a needle pressed gently against her heart. Just as she was about to say something, she heard him continue:
"I know, Shione, you still resent me in your heart. But now... I simply can't bring myself to ignore you."
So if you can't let go, why did you break up with me in the first place? Is Takahashi Mio really that good? What exactly does she have that I don't?
Hōjō Shione roared these questions twice in her heart, the words echoing in the cavern of her chest. But she didn't voice them. She knew that even if she asked, Shiratori Seiya wouldn't tell her—and it would only make the current situation between them more awkward, more strained.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her eyes darted around as she tried to calm down and analyze his intentions. After a long moment, she smiled again—this time more composed.
"It's fine. Anyway, I'll just hire a lawyer then to see if there are any loopholes in the contract. As for the terms, we'll just have to negotiate. If it really doesn't work out, there's nothing that can be done..."
She paused, then looked at him directly. "However, Seiya, are you asking me today because you're thinking of helping me negotiate the contract then?"
Shiratori Seiya didn't hesitate. "Yes. I feel your manager doesn't have enough experience. She didn't even remember the terms of the last concert contract well. She's a bit unreliable."
"Ah, Seiya, are you referring to Miss Fukada? She actually works very hard and is quite diligent. As for the contract, perhaps she was just too nervous that day?"
She paused, then gave Shiratori Seiya a meaningful look and sighed. "However, compared to Seiya, it's simply too unfair. No one can compare to Seiya."
Shiratori Seiya met her gaze, understanding that she was testing his attitude. After a moment of thought, he didn't dampen her spirits and smiled.
"I'm not as good as you say. But I think there might be opportunities for cooperation in the future."
"..."
Hearing his words, Hōjō Shione's eyes froze. Beneath the table, her hand clenched tighter—fingernails digging into her flesh, leaving small crescent marks.
He said it. He actually said it.
Although she'd only received his ambiguous answer, she had waited for this sentence for a long time. She dreamed of returning to the days they were together—the lazy afternoons, the shared meals, the quiet comfort of his presence.
Her clumsy design at the concert hadn't been in vain.
However, Hōjō Shione was only excited in her heart. She was far from being moved to the point of tears of joy. Too much had happened. Too many promises had been broken.
It's too late. Such promises... Seiya, I can no longer believe them.
A strange emotion flickered in her eyes—something between hope and resignation. She smiled softly at Shiratori Seiya.
"If there's really an opportunity to cooperate in the future, that would be wonderful."
"There will be."
Seeing that she didn't seem to take it to heart, Shiratori Seiya repeated himself. Then, as if remembering something, he asked, "Oh, by the way, Shione—why didn't you ring the doorbell today?"
"..."
Hearing this, the smile on Hōjō Shione's face stiffened just slightly.
Are you afraid I would disturb your good time with those two bitches, Hasegawa and Takahashi?
"Ah, I'm sorry. I, I just..." She fumbled for words, then found her footing. "You told me the password last time, Seiya, so I didn't think much of it. I thought you hadn't come back yet..."
She explained, then added seriously, "I know for next time. I'll ring the doorbell first."
"No."
Shiratori Seiya waved his hand. "It has nothing to do with that. I remember you used to say you liked ringing the doorbell and having me come out to pick you up. I was just saying there's no need to make it troublesome."
"..."
Hearing his words, Hōjō Shione paused. Past memories instantly flooded back—the days when she'd ring the bell just to see his face appear at the door, the way his eyes would soften when he saw her.
He still remembered.
The softest part of her heart was touched. It was as if she had chewed a plum in her mouth; the sourness exploded in her oral cavity, and after swallowing, there was a lingering sweetness on her tongue.
She opened her mouth, forcibly suppressed the surging emotions in her heart, and explained with a smile, "Ah, no. I know Seiya probably works at home most of the time, so I didn't want to disturb you. I just entered with the password on my own..."
Hearing this, Shiratori Seiya continued, "Actually, whether you come in directly or ring the doorbell, Shione—you can do whatever you want."
Seeing that her jealous mood had obviously eased, Shiratori Seiya's gaze swept over the tote bag she had placed on the back of the chair. He changed the subject.
"Oh, by the way, I saw your message. What were you going to get just now?"
"Ah."
Hearing this, Hōjō Shione snapped back to attention. Her eyes sparkled like a child about to reveal a secret. Like presenting a precious treasure, she brought the tote bag to her front and pulled out two long wooden boxes from inside.
"Ta-da!"
She held them up proudly. "After that incident happened to me, a friend heard that I was under a lot of stress. She specifically recommended that I go to Tensui Temple to get some sandalwood incense. She said it's very effective."
Her voice softened. "I know, Seiya, that you often forget to rest when you work and it's not easy. So two days ago, I specifically went to the temple and got an extra set of incense."
She opened one of the wooden boxes. Inside were dozens of neatly arranged sandalwood sticks—but unlike ordinary yellowish-brown sandalwood, this set was a deep, vibrant vermilion red. The color was striking, almost alive.
"The master inside said it has the effect of calming the mind and relaxing the body. I heard it's very potent. Later, after you finish eating, Seiya, we can light two sticks and see if they work."
Saying this, Hōjō Shione took out two sticks of incense and brought them to Shiratori Seiya's nose.
"Seiya, smell them. Don't they smell quite nice?"
Hearing her say that she had also gotten a set for him, Shiratori Seiya couldn't help but feel a little touched. He took the incense and brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply.
A rich, earthy fragrance filled his senses—warm and soothing, like sunlight filtering through an ancient forest. There were layers to it: first a gentle sweetness, then a deeper, woody undertone, and finally something almost floral that lingered on the edge of perception.
"They are quite nice..."