"Why doesn't Chiose-mama ever change cars?"
"Because — I have a soft spot for old things. And it still runs just fine, doesn't it? I'd feel awful letting it go."
It was useful. It was familiar. It had been calibrated, through years of patient adjustment, into something she could control completely.
Swapping it out would be a waste — like abandoning a little dog she'd raised with her own two hands.
Chiose glanced at the rearview mirror, at the three tiny figurines dangling from it. She looked at those memory-laden little things and felt an irrepressible urge to laugh.
Throwing away something you'd trained yourself was a shame, yes — but only a shame, nothing more. More often than not... like right now, when she actually thought about it, she didn't feel much of anything at all.
After all, letting go meant trading up for something greater. And the slow grinding of time, and the growth that came with it, would shape Yoshiiro Chiose into the wicked woman she was always destined to become.
"Chiose-mama?"
The delicate little beauty in the back seat spoke up at an inopportune moment, breaking Yoshiiro Chiose's train of thought. Through the rearview mirror, she caught Soyo's worried gaze.
"Ah — sorry, I drifted off there for a moment. That's Tsuki no Mori right ahead."
"We're already here? That was fast."
Soyo fidgeted with the hem of her school uniform skirt. The quality of this uniform was absurdly good — well, what else would you expect from the uniform of a girls' finishing school.
They'd only just left home. It felt like just yesterday that break hadn't even started yet... and somehow, in the blink of an eye, this moment had arrived.
Chiose watched Soyo step out of the car. They shared one last farewell for the morning.
"Good luck today. This afternoon when school lets out, I'll be waiting right here."
"Mama... goodbye!"
"Goodbye, sweetheart."
Through the tinted glass, Yoshiiro Chiose watched the little girl — still wavering, still uncertain — finally walk away. She kept glancing back, once, twice, three times — but soon she'd vanished into the crowd.
"Wonderful, isn't it. I blinked and two years of her growing up were behind us. Now we're just about to the part of the story I've been arranging so carefully for her."
Go with the flow? Take things as they come? All rubbish. The only life worth having is the one written in a script you hold yourself.
She, Yoshiiro Chiose, was going to be the kind of villain who wrote other people's stories. She had no intention of sleepwalking through life alongside the victims of her simulations.
Only when everything was in her grasp — only when events were unfolding, more or less, according to the will of Yoshiiro Chiose — would she feel at ease.
"I never want another six years of drifting along and then dying in a miserable heap at the end of it. And that helplessness — being sick, nearly dying, and having absolutely nothing you can do about it..."
She had to take hold of every variable, control every factor. Even if her hands were too small to grip everything at once, she would make sure, as much as she possibly could, that all of it stayed orderly.
Chiose sat with her chin in her hand, waiting at a red light, her gaze drifting into the distance — until a white-haired, golden-eyed high school girl in Tsuki no Mori's summer uniform walked past.
Through the front windshield, that girl fixed Yoshiiro Chiose with a deeply aggrieved stare.
Yoshiiro Chiose knew that look. It was the exclusive property of someone who had been [perfectly content lazing around at home until they were suddenly conscripted into work, then just as suddenly shipped off to enroll at the boss's daughter's school, and hasn't even eaten breakfast yet].
Chiose covered her mouth, snickering as she gave a little wave of her fingers.
[Nagasaki Soyo, your school life is destined to be something spectacular.]
The car window rolled up. Soyo watched that vivid flash of red dissolve into the distance, the car disappearing from view. Now only she remained, alone at the gates of Tsuki no Mori.
"Come on, I can do this..."
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and gave herself a quiet little pep talk.
It's just school!
Even if every single person around her was a young lady of immense wealth and privilege — she, Nagasaki Soyo, could absolutely handle it!
"Mother said the Tsuki no Mori uniform was adorable and wanted to see me in it. But Mother didn't even make it in time to see me off today."
Soyo stepped through the school gates and froze, momentarily at a loss for which way to go.
All around her, countless girls greeted one another with "Kiian" — well, a school for proper young ladies really did love that sort of thing.
When someone greeted Soyo the same way, she mirrored the response back.
She went from faintly hesitant at first to gradually growing more confident. The little fragments of Yoshiiro Chiose stored away in her head nudged Soyo along, deeper and deeper into the school.
In this moment, Soyo thought of the Chiose who had taken her to try samgyetang. She thought of the Chiose who would whisk her away for sleepovers at the Yoshiiro apartment every weekend. And she thought of the Chiose who had helped her take off her headband and do her hair that very morning.
[Ah — so this is what it feels like. Having someone you can lean on and talk to.]
Getting to meet Chiose-mama. What a lucky thing.
Not far behind her, a blue-haired twin-tailed girl named Sakiko Togawa was chatting with her old elementary school friends — and from across the crowd, she'd already spotted the new transfer student, Nagasaki Soyo, practically buzzing with nervous energy.
Most of Tsuki no Mori's students had been here since kindergarten, and barring any surprises, they'd see it through right up to university — so practically everyone here knew everyone else.
If a stranger appeared, there was only one explanation: a mid-year transfer!
Sakiko Togawa — still young, still full of warmth and enthusiasm, not yet worn down by life, her social battery fully charged — walked toward Nagasaki Soyo, wondering if she might be able to give this new classmate a hand.
But someone else was faster.
"Kiian. Are you a new student?"
Nagasaki Soyo turned at the sound of the voice — and found herself looking at a white-haired, golden-eyed girl.
The girl's face was missing a certain human warmth, though it had instead a peculiar, hard-to-place awkwardness about it. Like an android working very hard to pass as a person.
"Yes — kiian."
"Would you like me to show you around? The opening ceremony is coming up right after this — I'll be your guide. Don't worry, I'm a true-blue Tsuki no Mori veteran."
The girl spoke as if she'd already decided Nagasaki Soyo would never turn down her offer, and turned on her heel without looking back.
"Come on, keep up. I'll give you the tour."
"Ah — my name is Nagasaki Soyo, by the way. What's yours?"
Not wanting to come across as rude, Soyo had no choice but to follow — but she couldn't feel comfortable just trailing after someone she knew nothing about.
The white-haired girl paused mid-step, tilted her head to one side, and smiled a slow, meaningful smile.
"My name is Haizuka Kyoumoto. Pleased to meet you."
Something about this person absolutely radiated mischief — though it was hard to put into words exactly how.
Soyo knitted her brows slightly. She'd barely been out here five minutes and already she could tell: staying home with Chiose, watching TV and drinking tea and chatting, was infinitely more blissful than this.
When would next weekend finally come?
Not far away, Sakiko Togawa drew back her gaze, warmly pleased that her classmates were already looking out for one another.
How nice.
Though that white-haired girl looked vaguely familiar, she couldn't quite place her.
That was strange. She really should know her.
How very odd.
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