[Please give me some power Stone Q-Q guys]
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"I'm home."
Kyousuke called out the moment he stepped into the yard with Utaha-senpai behind him.
He was already used to this kind of routine—coming home to a sweet girl opening the door with a gentle smile and a soft "Welcome home."
It was addictive, really.
But strangely, Shouko's voice didn't echo back as expected.
Not that he expected Eriri to greet him at the door—she probably already knew where he'd gone, and if she didn't throw a "Oh, you do remember how to come home," it would already be a miracle.
As expected, in the living room, Eriri was already sitting cozily next to Shouko, linking arms with her as they watched One Punch Man on the TV.
"Kyousuke—no, that heartless jerk—actually had the nerve to say the monster I designed didn't make sense."
"If leftover food can turn into a Leftovers Monster, why can't a character born from resentment toward garbage stories want to destroy every bad piece of work out there?"
Eriri ranted indignantly, then turned to Shouko.
"Right, Shouko? And my design is way better than those cockroach-egg-looking things he draws!"
Shouko tilted her head slightly, smiling awkwardly. "Well... the weirder the better for monsters, so I think Kyousuke-kun's design is still pretty cool."
"Wha—Shouko, don't play favorites!" Eriri whined, shaking her arm dramatically.
"But I get it. Even though I don't know much about this kind of thing, I understand your frustration with, um, bad stories."
"I think a monster like that would resonate with the audience."
"Right? Right?!"
"Mm-hmm~"
With Shouko's support, Eriri grinned in satisfaction and turned her attention back to the anime.
As far as she was concerned, that cold-blooded, heartless idiot Kyousuke could just never come back at all.
Watching anime with a girl her age like this—it was Eriri's first time, and it made her want to jump for joy.
Shouko wasn't just sweet and adorable—her personality was so warm it was almost unreal.
Even when she didn't understand otaku stuff, she'd still listen earnestly and give thoughtful responses.
Like now: watching the anime they made together, Shouko wasn't jealous or annoyed at all. Instead, she even praised Eriri's art as amazing.
'Ahh, Shouko is just too cute!'
Eriri pulled out her phone, ready to share more of her favorite works with Shouko. That's when she heard Kyousuke's voice from outside the house.
"Ah!"
She gasped, her big blue eyes widening.
Sitting in Kyousuke's house and hearing his voice as he came home—this was amazing!
Now she understood why Shouko always got to the door so fast in the morning. That little jolt of excitement—it was addictive.
She was about to jump up and greet him, but quickly reminded herself—she was still mad at him!
And besides, he was coming back with another girl. There was no way she was welcoming some random woman into the house!
"What's wrong, Eriri? Aren't you going to greet Kyousuke-kun?" Shouko asked, amused by the way Eriri's expression kept shifting.
"Why would I greet that jerk? I've already decided—we're all ordering pizza later." Eriri pouted and tightened her hold on Shouko's arm.
"You shouldn't talk to him either!"
"Okay~" Shouko replied cheerfully.
If it meant teasing Kyousuke-kun, she was all for it.
Kyousuke opened the door and first handed out slippers—one for Utaha-senpai and disposable ones for Kisaki and Hirata.
When he stepped into the entryway, he saw the two girls on the couch laughing and watching anime.
Even though Eriri was a respectable 160 cm tall—perfectly normal in Japan—when she was in chill mode, she turned into what he liked to call "Lazy-riri," curled up on the couch like a loaf of bread.
From behind the couch, all he could see was her blonde hair and Shouko's long brown hair.
"Shouko, Eriri, I'm back," he called again, unwilling to give up.
He made a mental note to talk to the construction company about the house's over-effective soundproofing.
Maybe he should reprogram the video doorbell to blast a "Welcome home!" announcement every time it heard him speak.
Hearing his voice, Shouko instinctively began to turn toward him—but two hands immediately cupped her face and held her in place.
"Hmph!"
It wasn't a cute pout. It was an exaggerated, shouty kind of "hmph" that made no attempt to be elegant.
At any other time, Kyousuke would've burst out laughing at Eriri's antics.
But with Utaha-senpai right behind him, he had to play it cool and pretend not to notice.
Kisaki wisely stayed outside, waiting for the all-clear.
He knew the house was full of girls, and if he saw something he shouldn't, his big bro would probably murder him.
That's what it meant to be the little brother—respect the unspoken rules.
Kasumigaoka Utaha slipped on the slippers and stepped onto the living room floor. With one glance, she understood the situation.
The brown-haired girl had to be Nishimiya Shouko—she recognized her from the book signing event.
And the blonde? No doubt that was Sawamura Spencer Eriri. No one else in real life would bleach their hair that bright.
'So she's still in the picture, huh?' Kasumigaoka thought.
'Looks like this isn't going to be as easy as I hoped.'
She glanced around and commented with a sweet smile, "It's been so long, but Kyousuke's house still looks like he just moved in. You're surprisingly tidy."
Kyousuke, just about to say something, froze at her words.
'Really? You had to add that last bit? I know exactly what you're implying—that the place lacks a feminine touch.'
He had grown up with a snarky childhood friend in Kyoto, so he knew shade when he heard it.
"I'll show you to your room, Utaha-senpai," he said, raising a hand and walking ahead, carrying a fresh bottle of sakura-flavored cola and a bouquet of lilies.
"Thank you," she replied with a demure nod, holding her bag in front of her with both hands.
"Eriri, I bought your favorite sakura cola."
"Gimme!"
Eriri shot to her feet—then froze when she caught sight of the familiar figure behind Kyousuke.
"Ka... Ka... Kasumigaoka Utaha?!"
What the heck?! Why was she here?
Of course she knew this girl.
Their schoolmates often grouped them together as the "Two Great Beauties of Toyogasaki."
But why was she with Kyousuke? And more importantly—why was she moving in?
"Oh my, Sawamura-san. Hello there," Utaha greeted her with a polite bow.
"H-hello..." Eriri reflexively bowed back.
"Wait—what is going on? Kyousuke, did you go help her move? And why do you even know Kasumigaoka Utaha?!"
Utaha knew full well that the length of her acquaintance with Kyousuke was her biggest disadvantage, so she didn't even bother answering the question.
Instead, she smiled flawlessly and raised her voice just enough to say:
"It seems you didn't notice me at all last time, Sawamura-san. We actually met at Kyousuke's very first signing event."
"I still remember your golden hair—it left quite the impression. It was so… you."
"Huh?"
She was at the signing too? Eriri froze.
She remembered a bunch of girls crowding around Kyousuke that day, which already had her fuming.
She didn't pay attention to any of their faces, much less remember them afterward.
Who had the time to care about those random girls who popped out of nowhere?
Still—on looks alone—she definitely had the upper hand.
That girl must be jealous of her shiny, silky golden hair. That thought made Eriri grin unconsciously.
"My hair? Haha, it's natural, actually."
Utaha's smile wavered.
That wasn't the reaction she'd hoped for.
In anime and games, girls with flashy blonde hair like Eriri's rarely got the main heroine role.
It was always the long, straight, black-haired type who reigned supreme. Didn't this girl get that?
Watching the exchange, Kyousuke almost laughed.
'Yeah, sorry, Utaha-senpai… Eriri's an idiot. She really doesn't get it.'
He handed a bottle of sakura-flavored cola to Eriri, then casually swapped out the lisianthus in the vase with a bouquet of white lilies.
Still grinning like an idiot, Eriri turned to see Shouko smiling gently at her—and instantly remembered she was supposed to be mad.
She gave a dramatic "hmph," hugged her cola protectively, plopped back on the couch, and offered some to Shouko as well.
Utaha let out a soft chuckle and turned to Shouko. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"Mhm. It has. Looks like we'll be roommates from now on," Shouko replied with a gentle smile.
"Shouko!?" Eriri tugged at Shouko's sleeve, betrayal written all over her face.
"Eh? I didn't say anything to Kyousuke-kun."
"Still… that's not—ahhh!"
Eriri stammered, looking at the ever-composed Utaha, and finally gave up with a tiny whimper, turning away with a pout.
"If you need help setting up your room later, just let me know," Shouko added kindly.
"I won't hold back, then. Oh, by the way, where's Naoka?"
"She's in her studio. Probably didn't hear the commotion outside."
Since Naoka had started making merchandise professionally, she'd upgraded from a basic sewing machine to an industrial-grade one—all with money she'd saved herself.
The studio was now officially up and running.
"I see. Then we'll let her be for now."
The two of them headed up to the second floor.
Technically it was a "room selection," but really, there were only two rooms left: one above the kitchen, and one above the tatami room.
"I'll take the one next to Sawamura-san's, then," Utaha said after glancing at the cartoon nameplates already on the other doors.
Of course, she wanted the room next to Kyousuke's, but that clearly wasn't going to happen.
"Didn't you say there was another girl living here? Yamauchi Sakura, right? Is she not home today?"
"Sakura went back to her hometown for a bit. She'll be back soon."
"Her hometown?"
"Yeah. Her grandparents live in Kyoto. She goes back every year during the holidays."
"I see. How thoughtful of her. Not many young people these days spend their vacations with their grandparents," Utaha said with a nod.
Oof.
'Okay, okay, enough already. I bought my grandpa a brand-new mini truck, and I sponsor my parents' vacations every year,' Kyousuke mentally retorted.
In truth, out of everyone living in his house, he probably spent the least amount of time with his family.
Shouko and Naoka may have moved out early, but even Naoka, busy with her sewing, still brought snacks home to visit every week.
And Shouko was, well, Shouko.
While Kisaki and the driver carried the luggage to the entryway, Kyousuke hauled the heavier items up the stairs.
Watching him go up and down like a mover, hearing Kasumigaoka's cheerful laughter from upstairs, Eriri could no longer concentrate on her beloved anime.
She pouted and complained to Shouko:
"She's just moved in and already playing hostess—what, does she think she's the head of the household or something?"
"And why did she bring so much stuff? Does she think this place is hers now?"
She grumbled some more before adding, "Ugh, tomorrow I'm going to make Kyousuke carry a ton of my stuff too."
"Since he loves hauling things so much, maybe he should just get a job at a moving company…"
As she spiraled into another rant, Eriri began unloading her colorful vocabulary to Shouko.
Unfortunately, Kasumigaoka couldn't hear any of it from her room—otherwise, she might've laughed out loud in delight.
Her performance of territorial dominance was clearly working.
Listening to Eriri's muttered complaints and watching her puffed-out cheeks, Shouko—usually the one called "adorable" at home—began to think that title might suit Eriri more.
"But… I think that senpai wanted you to react like this," Shouko said gently.
"Eh…?"
Eriri's mouth, which had been wide open in indignation, hung frozen. She turned to Shouko in disbelief.
"Shouko… you mean…?"
"I think so," Shouko replied, her soft laugh finally escaping.
"Ughhhh! I walked right into her trap! That scheming, conniving witch! Black-haired ice queens always bring misfortune!"
Eriri clutched her head in despair, shrieking in frustration.
"I have to win this back!"
'Deep breaths, Eriri. Stay calm. Think! Strategize!'
"…Shouko, is there any of that dessert left?" she asked, suddenly serious, gripping Shouko's hand as if her life depended on it.
Her sky-blue eyes burned with intensity.
"Dessert?" Shouko blinked.
They'd eaten so many snacks that she wasn't sure which one Eriri meant.
"The one Kyousuke made for his childhood friend," Eriri growled, wincing as if she'd just taken a dagger to the heart—but if she had to suffer, so would that snow witch.
"Ohhh, the yam steamed cake? Yeah, there's some left. Didn't get enough?"
"It's too delicious to ever be enough. But that's not the point—listen, go bring some down later and invite Kasumigaoka to eat with us."
She smirked wickedly. 'Take that, Kasumigaoka Utaha. Feel the sting of the childhood friend's legacy!'
"Got it~" Shouko giggled and nodded.
The move-in wrapped up quickly.
Kisaki made a smooth exit, leaving behind a few beautifully wrapped boxes of soba noodles to be delivered to the neighbors.
In high-end neighborhoods like this, unlike transient apartment complexes, it was still customary to greet your neighbors—otherwise someone might report unfamiliar faces to the local police.
Kasumigaoka didn't start unpacking right away. Instead, she came downstairs.
"I guess I haven't properly introduced myself yet," she said. "I'm Kasumigaoka Utaha. I go to Toyogasaki as well, third year. We'll be living together from now on, so I hope we get along."
She extended a slender hand, posture perfect, deep red eyes glimmering with subtle amusement, lips curled in a graceful smile, and her chin tilted with effortless elegance.
Eriri put on her best version of a smug smirk—one she had practiced over and over—and stood to meet her.
But the moment she faced Kasumigaoka head-on… it felt like a punch landed square in her chest.
"What a ridiculous bust…"
Both girls were wearing the same cotton slippers, but with her 168cm height, Kasumigaoka Utaha completely towered over Eriri.
The blonde's confidence took a hit, her gaze unconsciously dropping.
'Geez, what's with the black tights in this weather? Should've gone with fleece leggings. Or maybe her legs are so thick she's trying to hide them with black?'
Sawamura Spencer Eriri swore to herself—she was not jealous of those plump, curvaceous, black-stockinged legs.
In any country, in any era, it was her kind of slender, well-shaped legs that were the true gold standard!
Even Kyousuke had admitted it! He once said her legs were the best! Especially when she wore white stockings or black fleece tights!
Okay, maybe he didn't say it outright, but whenever she wore those, his gaze was glued to her legs—like, way more than usual! The perv.
With that thought, Eriri felt a renewed surge of energy.
"Ah, of course I know you. You're always at the top of the rankings, even though you sleep through most classes. I'm Sawamura Spencer Eriri. Nice to meet you."
Maybe it was thanks to Shouko's earlier advice unlocking something inside her, but Eriri suddenly picked up on the hidden meaning in Utaha's polite words.
'She's a senior and I'm a junior, so I should be respectful,' huh? Yeah, no way.
This is Kyousuke's house! In terms of time spent here and closeness to him, I'm the senior!
Still, knowing she had a counterattack ready, Eriri didn't get angry.
Instead, a mysterious little smile appeared on her face. She reached out to shake Utaha's hand—gripping lightly, then letting go.
Seeing that the girls weren't about to engage in some petty hand-squeezing battle, Kyousuke let out a quiet sigh of relief and sank into the sofa.
'Finally, a break. This whole day's been a nerve-wracking mess.'
Utaha smoothed her skirt as she sat down beside him.
"Have some snacks and take a break, Utaha-senpai," Shouko said sweetly, placing a plate of treats on the small tea table next to her.
Kyousuke's living room didn't have a big table for fruit bowls or centerpieces—just two long sofas and a silvery-gray rug between them.
A few movable snack carts served as makeshift tea tables, and for more involved things like tea ceremonies, a foldable low table would be brought out.
"Thank you."
In the past, Kyousuke only made steamed yam cakes when Sakura requested them.
Back in his solo apartment days, Utaha had already tasted plenty of his cooking—and been completely won over by how much he'd improved.
Just like before, her lovely eyes widened a little in surprise.
"Did you make these, Shouko? They're wonderful."
Before Shouko could even respond, Eriri—clearly waiting for this moment—let out a cold snort.
"Hmph. That's a snack Kyousuke has been making for his childhood friend since they were little. Of course it's delicious."
A classic move that hurt both sides—but one Eriri had mastered.
She felt quite pleased with herself as she watched Utaha quietly set down her cake, pull a handkerchief from her bag, and dab at her lips.
Sure, it was disappointing that Utaha didn't choke like she had once—but mentally, Eriri was already throwing a victory party.
'Look at her—Miss High-and-Mighty at school—bet that left a bitter taste, huh? Hahaha!'
'Childhood friend?!'
That had to be Yamauchi Sakura, the one who hadn't even shown up yet.
And yet her presence was so strong, it was like she was looming over the room.
A classic tragic heroine—one who couldn't even get a happy ending in an anime if route!
Utaha mentally flagged Yamauchi Sakura as Public Enemy No. 1.
Then she glanced at the smug-faced Eriri across from her in confusion.
'Wait, shouldn't you be just as pissed about this childhood friend business as I am?'
'What's with the proud look?'
With that thought, she picked up another piece of cake and said casually:
"Must be nice, huh? I'm honestly jealous of Yamauchi-san, having Kyousuke as her childhood friend. Don't you think so too, Miss Sawamura?"
"Cough! Cough, cough—!" Eriri immediately choked on her own spit.
Right then, Naoka emerged from the studio.
Her attitude toward Eriri had softened considerably—probably because she'd realized Eriri was kind of a fool.
She didn't seem surprised by Utaha's presence at all.
Giving both girls a casual nod, she grabbed a plate of snacks from the fridge, plopped down next to Kyousuke, and started eating without a care.
Meanwhile, Kasumigaoka Utaha surveyed the battlefield like a seasoned general.
Although she'd only exchanged a few words with them before, her sharp mind and novelist's intuition had already sketched out rough personality profiles.
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Nishimiya Shouko: harmless?
Ueno Naoka: seemed tough, but ultimately just a kid—not a real threat.
Sawamura Eriri: loud and fiery on the surface, but deep down, just a timid little rodent. No need to worry.
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The real threat was still Yamauchi Sakura.
And what was the "guinea pig" Eriri doing?
'Ugh, my attack got deflected!' Eriri shook herself.
'Calm down, Eriri. Think back to what Mom said. She told me the moment I meet a new roommate, I need to show off my special bond with Kyousuke.'
'Prove that I have a unique relationship with him!'
'Yes, exactly!'
"Kyousuke, isn't it about time we started working on the manga? A proper creator shouldn't be slacking off."
That's right—she was his manga assistant. The only one in the world!
"But didn't we already—"
"No excuses! As your assistant, it's my duty to keep you focused and productive!"
'Good! Good, Eriri! Press the advantage! This random Kasumigaoka Utaha is no match for you!'
Guess I should start thinking about lunch too, Kyousuke sighed internally.
But knowing Eriri's mindset all too well, he didn't argue.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, getting up to grab his tools.
Since he'd planned for possible joint work with Eriri, he'd already set up a spare laptop and tablet in the tatami room.
"Kyousuke," Utaha's voice rang out—sweet as honey, practically dripping seduction.
"I really can't delay my new novel anymore. You promised you'd help me brainstorm, didn't you?"
"What? A new novel? We're working on real stuff here. Kyousuke doesn't have time for that kind of nonsense," Eriri snapped, standing up.
Her "assistant" title had completely revived her confidence.
Her mother's words echoed in her mind: 'Supporting the one you love with their work is the ultimate competitive edge.'
"Manga assistant? So, like… the person who fills in random black lines on a page? Or are you the one who orders takeout and makes tea?"
Of course Utaha knew Eriri's work as Kyousuke's assistant was more than that.
But she said it just to set up the real strike—and before Eriri could retort, she delivered the finishing blow:
"Because I'm Kyousuke's favorite author."
"Author?" Eriri froze, her comeback caught in her throat.
"Oh? You didn't know that, Miss Sawamura?"
Shouko and Naoka stared in stunned silence from the sofa.
Naoka even forgot her snack.
And just when it looked like Eriri was about to break completely, the normally aloof Shouko finally stood up.
She walked over to Eriri and gently turned her around—
"Utaha-senpai's pen name is Kasumi Utako. She's the author of Love Metronome."
"Wha—huh?!"
As if her soul had just floated out of her body from the shock, Eriri's eyes went spiraling like a cartoon, and a completely incoherent but ridiculously cute noise escaped her lips.
Behind her, Kasumigaoka Utaha—arms crossed—wore the smuggest victory smile imaginable.
Snapping back to reality, Eriri grabbed tightly onto Kyousuke's sleeve, her voice full of disbelief as she asked:
"Wait, Love Metronome? You mean that book you had in your bag the day we first met? The one with Sayuka as the heroine and Naoto as the protagonist?"
"The same Love Metronome I made doujin for at two consecutive conventions?!"
Oh no. No no no! Eriri, calm down! Don't self-destruct here! Kyousuke was on the verge of physically covering her mouth.
"And both of Kyousuke's novels were edited and proofread by me," Utaha added sweetly, twisting the knife with practiced precision.
But instead of being completely crushed, something strange happened—Eriri's mind suddenly went crystal clear.
Just like Mom always said… in moments like this, forget logic. Trust your instincts. Let your mouth take over. It knows what to say!