"Eh? Kyousuke's still not back? Didn't he just go to the convenience store at the corner?"
Having finished tidying up their room, Eriri and Shouko came down to the living room.
They glanced around, but there was no sign of Kyousuke.
"Heh. Looks like you still don't know. You're not the only one moving in today."
Ueno Naoka, lounging on the sofa with a magazine in hand, lifted her head and sneered at Eriri, who had already changed into her loungewear.
Her striking violet-blue eyes unexpectedly suited the sharpness in her tone.
"N-not the only one?!"
Eriri, who had just started heading toward the garage to find him, froze mid-step and turned around in disbelief.
'Huh? So she's this kind of girl?' Naoka blinked, momentarily surprised.
She had assumed Eriri was the type to always look down on people with a haughty gaze. Turns out...
"Shouko, what is she talking about?" Eriri looked toward Shouko, completely thrown off.
"Ah, well..." Shouko gave an awkward smile and nodded. "Just like Naoka said, Kyousuke-kun went to help another girl move in."
"He—he actually dared do that?!"
Eriri exploded on the spot. She kicked the sofa with a furious shout.
"Ah—ow ow ow!"
In her rage, she'd forgotten she wasn't wearing shoes... and the sofa wasn't Kyousuke.
"Pfft—" Naoka burst into laughter.
Looks like she was overthinking things—this girl was just a kid throwing a tantrum.
"L-laugh all you want… ugh, it really hurts…"
Eriri tried to salvage her dignity, but the pain in her toe made her tear up. She turned pitiful eyes toward Shouko.
"Come sit and rest a bit." Shouko helped her over to the sofa.
She slipped off Eriri's sock and saw the toe was just a little red.
"Good thing Kyousuke-kun planned for this kind of stuff. He picked furniture with the idea that kids might be living here."
Relieved to see there was no real injury, Shouko smiled gently.
"Don't even mention that jerk. That heartless, cold-blooded, stone-hearted idiot! That unfeeling mystery writer, that perverted womanizer with a brain full of white, murky goo! That creep who's always cozying up to girls—!"
With boundless generosity, Eriri-sama shared her entire insult dictionary with her two new roommates, curled up on the sofa as she massaged her sore toe.
Her grumbling was so intense that Shouko and Naoka just looked at each other and burst out laughing.
What a ridiculously cute new housemate.
"Hahaha, Eriri, you're seriously adorable. I'll go get you a snack," Shouko said as she stood up.
"Do you have Coke, Shouko? I wanna drink that! Make it cold!"
Like chanting an incantation, Eriri paused mid-rant to ask hopefully.
In times of heartbreak and rage, Coke really did hit the spot. Without realizing it, her voice had a slight, girlish whine.
"Coke, huh? Kyousuke-kun probably stashed some somewhere. I'll go look, but I doubt it's cold."
Shouko tilted her head thoughtfully.
Oh well, she'd rat him out just this once—he probably wouldn't mind, given the situation.
"Mhm!" Eriri nodded eagerly.
She didn't know why that idiot Kyousuke would hide his Coke, but somehow that made it feel even more special and worth drinking.
Smiling to herself, Shouko headed upstairs.
Probably only Kyousuke himself didn't realize that everyone knew he hid his Coke stash in the third-floor storage room.
Eriri watched her go, eyes fixed on the staircase—not so much at Shouko herself, but at the unique device on her ear.
"Shouko's hearing-impaired."
Naoka spoke up suddenly, not looking up from her magazine. Before Eriri could respond, she continued:
"You like Kyousuke, don't you?"
'What?!'
Eriri, who had been about to ask more about Shouko's hearing, went bright red.
That was just her—outwardly bold, inwardly shy. Even toward Naoka, who'd been cold from the start, she was like that.
"W-who'd like that heartless, cold-blooded, stone-hearted idiot! That unfeeling mystery writer, that perverted womanizer with a brain full of white, murky goo! That creep who's always cozying up to girls—!"
Naoka didn't interrupt this time, silently memorizing the unique litany of insults. It almost had a poetic rhythm to it.
"I bet you're the one in love with that errand boy," Eriri huffed after her dramatic rant, chin raised defiantly.
"I am." Naoka looked up at her, eyes clear and sincere.
Eriri's confidence crumbled instantly. Wait—she's not even embarrassed?!
"You can glare at me or curse me out all you want. I don't mind. But please don't do anything that would hurt Shouko. Kyousuke is… special to her. She won't get in your way."
"Why would I hurt Shouko?! She's sweet and gentle! And besides, I'm a proper lady! I don't just go around yelling insults at people!"
Naoka looked at her flatly, glancing down at the very sofa that had just been assaulted by Eriri's profanity-laced tirade.
"W-what are you thinking? That was Kyousuke! I don't waste insults on just anyone!"
Naoka shook her head and said no more, going back to her magazine.
Honestly, what a fool she'd been—thinking this girl would be hard to get along with.
On the sofa, Eriri pouted and turned her head toward the stairs.
While waiting for Shouko to return with the Coke, her mind drifted to what Naoka had said.
'A special existence? And someone so sweet… had hearing loss?'
She wanted to ask more, but Eriri was too proud to just start chatting with Naoka. She decided she'd find a chance to ask Shouko later.
"Ah, finally! Thank you, Shouko!" Eriri cheered as she saw Shouko descending with that familiar drink.
Less than an hour in, and she was already blending in like a natural.
"Do you want a glass? There's ice in the fridge."
Shouko wasn't acting like a servant—she was just fulfilling Kyousuke-kun's role as host, showing the new girl around. Plus, Eriri had just hurt her foot.
"Oh, right! A glass!"
Eriri suddenly lit up like a kid showing off a prized possession. Ignoring her sore foot, she ran upstairs and returned with her beloved glass cup.
Naoka cleared her throat and took a sip of water from the table.
Eriri's smile froze. Then she noticed both Shouko and Naoka had subtle grins.
"Shouko... you have one too?"
Shouko nodded apologetically.
"KYOUSUKEU KYOUSUKE!!! That cold-blooded, heartless—!"
Suddenly, even the Coke in her hand tasted flat. The fizz on her tongue now felt annoying.
"I'll get you some snacks. I made them yesterday, but they're still pretty good."
Shouko gave a peaceful smile. Not even she tried to defend Kyousuke at that point.
Eriri stuffed a piece of the soft, sweet pastry sprinkled with black sesame into her mouth.
She hadn't eaten anything since morning, and the moment the flavor hit her tongue, her eyes lit up with delight.
"Eh? This is delicious! Did you make this, Shouko?"
"Heh, of course it's good. Kyousuke's been making these for his childhood friend since third grade" Shouko replied.
Even though Sakura wasn't home, the moment Kyousuke thought about her, he'd unconsciously start cooking the things she liked.
His skills had grown so much that making these kinds of snacks was second nature now.
The recipe hadn't changed, but the taste had definitely improved.
"C-Childhood friend?!"
Eriri had just stuffed a large piece of yam cake into her mouth and choked in shock at the revelation.
She quickly took a huge gulp of cola to recover.
"Yup~," Naoka said with a mischievous grin, turning to Eriri.
"They live just a narrow alley apart—barely a meter wide. Every morning, the first person they see after their family is each other."
"They jog together every single day, go home together after school, and Kyousuke always makes her yam pancakes, steamed yam cakes, papaya milk stew, papaya with snow frog jelly..."
"Every single day, he makes her something delicious. And every morning, he goes to her house to wake her up…"
"Every day, every day, every day..."
Each "every day" pierced Eriri like an arrow.
In her mind, the tiny version of herself let out a puff of white breath, rolled her eyes back, and her soul floated out of her head.
Shouko glanced reproachfully at Naoka, who was grinning even more smugly.
While she couldn't quite match Sakura when it came to mischief, she seemed to have a real knack for pushing Eriri's buttons.
No wonder that guy Kyousuke's cooking was so good.
She used to think he just got that way from living alone, but turns out—childhood friend? What is this, an anime?
Who even has childhood friends like that in real life?
As Naoka kept listing dish after dish like a menu, Eriri suddenly had the urge to pack her things and go home.
But wait—something felt off.
"No fried potatoes? No fried shrimp? No croquettes? Not a single type of tempura?" she blurted out.
Even if she could be dense, she was still a girl. Her instincts were sharp, and she sensed an inconsistency.
Naoka, still basking in the joy of messing with Eriri, was caught off guard by the question and fell silent, puzzled by the sudden shift in Eriri's energy.
"Well, Kyousuke is really into healthy living," Shouko said after thinking a moment. "So he pays a lot of attention to Sakura's diet. At our house, we rarely eat oily foods."
To be honest, that had always puzzled Shouko too.
Kyousuke loved cola, but whenever Sakura was around, he wouldn't touch it. The same went for fried food.
Only on rare solo dates would the two of them happily indulge in junk food.
"Hahaha!"
Eriri jumped to her feet, downed the rest of her cola in one go, and let out a hearty burp like a victor.
She could admit Kyousuke was serious about healthy living—her current figure was thanks in part to his constant reminders.
Sure, Sakura ran with him every day, but she did calisthenics with him every morning too, didn't she?
And fried food? What was it he said again? Oh right, something like:
"Humanity's love for fried food is written into our genetic code. I know it might shave a few years off my life, but a life without fried food, even if it were twice as long, would be meaningless."
He said it with such sincere passion that even she felt a twinge of jealousy. The entire Sawamura family had raised their cola cans in agreement that day.
And cola! No wonder Shouko said he hid it—he probably didn't want anyone to know he was sneaking sips.
"Every time I take a sip, it's like flowers bloom in my mouth. A hundred stars explode in my throat and slide into my stomach. It's like drinking a galaxy in full bloom—it makes me happy just to drink it."
That hopeless romantic had really said that.
His overflowing affection was so intense it gave her goosebumps.
"If only the Pacific Ocean were made of cola," he'd once said. That's how deep his love for it ran.
No wonder every time he came to her house, he acted like he hadn't had a drop of cola in years. What a ridiculous manservant.
Realizing this, Eriri burst out laughing again, her mood suddenly triumphant.
Shouko and Naoka exchanged confused looks.
Just moments ago, Eriri looked like her soul had left her body—now she seemed unusually smug.
Eriri glanced at Naoka, then at Shouko.
No way she was going to share that revelation with Naoka.
As for Shouko… maybe she could bring her along next time to eat Kyousuke's fried food.
"Shouko, this Sakura you're talking about—could she be Yamauchi Sakura?" Eriri asked suddenly, just as she sat back down and reached for another snack.
"Huh? Yeah, that's right. How do you know her?" Shouko asked, confused.
Just to be sure it wasn't someone with the same name, she pulled up her phone and opened her contacts.
"Seriously? It is her! She was my junior back in middle school."
After confirming with the contact photo, Eriri stared at the yam cake in her hand, her expression turning complicated again.
———————————————————————
—Meanwhile, Kyousuke sat in a black sedan.
It was registered under his company, which, now that it was no longer an empty shell, had to look the part.
Nothing flashy—just a standard Toyota. They didn't need a fancy car to prop up their image.
Driving was the company's actual "errand guy"—a former delinquent from the disbanded Rampaging Angels.
After graduating high school, he didn't continue his education, so Kisaki scouted him.
There were many others like him—guys who, even after school, wanted to stick with Kyousuke.
After all, not every follower of the Rampaging Angels was a University of Tokyo brainiac like Higashi. Plenty of them jumped into the working world right after high school.
Kisaki had enrolled many of them in vocational schools that matched the future needs of "the boss."
It was their way of contributing to society. Even if Kyousuke's plans changed, they'd still have the skills to make a living.
"Kisaki, did your transfer paperwork go through?"
"Yeah, all done. Hatagorou and the others too—they got scholarships thanks to their performance at the national tournament," Kisaki Tetta replied from the front passenger seat.
"Why'd they come too? I told them there's no need for all of us to cram into the same school. Didn't they want girlfriends or something? Funoizaki's open school culture would be better for that."
Kyousuke rubbed his temples.
He really didn't want to experience another day of the entire school bowing to him on arrival. He wasn't even planning to join the kendo club.
Wouldn't it be nicer to spend the morning listening to Shouko read aloud instead of sweating through "youthful passion"?
After school was for tutoring the girls at a family restaurant, then going shopping, catching a movie, grabbing a late-night snack.
"If we're not in the same school as the boss, we'll get crushed at the prefectural tournament. If we can't even make nationals in high school, my reputation's toast."
Kisaki Tetta suddenly raised his hand and shouted like he'd short-circuited:
"Yeah! That's exactly what Hatake Gorou said!"
"What are you even talking about?" Kyousuke replied. "This isn't middle school anymore—at the national high school kendo tournament."
"We can't just rely on the strongest player to carry the whole team. If the rest of the members are weak, we might not even qualify."
"That's why Hatake Gorou and the others are absolutely essential. Like fingers—how can they be separated from the hand they belong to?"
"Alright, alright! Stop! You're giving me goosebumps." Someone quickly begged for mercy.
Somewhere along the way, maybe since their first year of middle school, all the people who'd stuck with him had ended up with their own nicknames.
The sly fox lurking in the shadows, the wise thumb—Kisaki Tetta. The crimson—
'No, no, stop! Oh brilliant brain of mine, I beg you, delete all this nonsense.'
Kyousuke couldn't bear the thought of someday being pointed at in the streets with people yelling, "Hey, look! It's the Handless Demon and his four fingers!"
"Why only four fingers?"
"Idiot! He's the Handless Demon! Having four is already impressive!"
Ugh. Just imagining it sent a shiver down his spine. With these guys around, his youthful romantic life was bound to turn into a chaotic mess again.
"I really wish we could go back to high school with the Boss," the driver chimed in.
"Focus on driving, Hirata. And you're not a delinquent anymore—you're part of Kyousuke Corporation now. Call me President properly," Kyousuke said offhandedly.
"That's right. You'll scare people talking like that," Kisaki Tetta nodded.
"Haha, I forgot for a second."
Hirata Toshitaka scratched his head, prompting Kyousuke to quickly remind him again to concentrate on the road.
Following behind their car was a small moving truck.
Even though she said not to bring much, beautiful women always meant the exact opposite.
Once they parked in the lot, Kyousuke led his two subordinates into the elevator.
Inside, Kisaki Tetta kept stealing glances at his big bro through the mirrored walls.
The three girls he'd met earlier had already blown his mind—stunningly beautiful, with impeccable charm and talent—and all of them lived harmoniously under Kyousuke's roof.
He used to think that was the pinnacle of girl-charming prowess.
But today, two more had moved in. One was the daughter of a diplomat, the other the heiress of a major corporation.
One was Kyousuke's manga co-author, the other a bestselling novelist. And they were both gorgeous.
Once upon a time, he'd thought it was embarrassing to ask someone like Onizuka for tips on dating.
Just quietly observing and imitating his big bro should be enough.
But now? Now he wanted to speak up for all the single guys in their organization:
"Boss, please teach us!"
'Ding-dong—'
The moment the doorbell rang, a beautiful figure appeared at the door in less than a second.
Unlike Eriri's extravagant Victorian-style dress, Kasumigaoka Utaha looked ready for battle.
Her long black hair was neatly tied back with a white headband, a black ribbon around her elegant neck.
She wore a sky-blue, off-shoulder puff-sleeve top, revealing smooth, flawless collarbones and porcelain skin that made it hard to look away.
But even with her full chest, the outfit stayed classy—sexy, but not overly revealing.
A gray skirt hugged her hips, paired with sleek black stockings that gave off a tactical vibe.
"Welcome home, Kyousuke~"
Whether it was the suggestive tone or the outfit itself, Kyousuke couldn't help but swallow hard.
If a wife like that was waiting for him at home, no way would he ever need to step foot in a Ginza hostess club.
"Ahem. Sorry to intrude. Senpai, did you get all your luggage packed?"
As he stepped inside, he made sure she noticed the two men behind him.
"These are my friends, Kisaki Tetta and Hirata Toshitaka. They're here to help move your stuff."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Kasumigaoka Utaha—Kyousuke's~"
Her wine-red eyes glanced his way, her voice soft and smooth, "—best friend."
Kisaki and Hirata quickly bowed in greeting. Once she pointed out what needed to be moved, they got right to work.
Utaha waited by the elevator while Kyousuke and his two subordinates handled the moving.
Since others were present, there wasn't much personal interaction between the two of them.
Before long, everything was loaded into the small truck, and the group headed back to Kyousuke's place.
Of course, someone like Kasumigaoka Utaha wouldn't normally lift a finger for something like moving.
Yesterday, she'd already hired a cleaning service.
And if she really wanted, a single phone call would have brought her father's men to handle everything.
But no. A woman shouldn't be too easy to deal with.
Sure, she was the one who insisted on moving into Kyousuke's place.
But there was still a huge difference between Kyousuke personally coming to pick her up… and her just showing up on her own.
And the amount of luggage? That was intentional too.
Sure, she could've just bought new things like she'd considered yesterday—but what could beat the satisfaction of gradually dyeing his home with her presence?