Chapter 6 | Pajama Fashion Show 2

The school day had ended, and I was strolling home alongside Makura when she piped up out of nowhere. “Seeing a cicada flipped over on the ground at the end of summer just screams, ‘Oh no, we gotta eat ice cream!’ doesn’t it?”

Her quirky logic was impossible to argue with, so we found ourselves detouring to a nearby convenience store for a sweet treat. Lately, Makura had developed quite the snacking habit.

As we slipped through the store’s automatic doors, Makura’s enthusiasm took over. “Alright, what should I get!” she exclaimed, practically jogging toward the ice cream section at the back.

I trailed behind, passing the magazine rack, when an involuntary “Ah” escaped my lips. I clamped my mouth shut and tried to play it off, but Makura’s sharp senses caught it. She spun around, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“Hm? What’s up?”

I shook my head lightly. “Nah, nothing.”

“Really? You totally just said ‘Ah’ or something.”

“Y-You’re imagining things, aren’t you?”

“Is that so? Well, okay then…” Her tone was skeptical, and her gaze darted around the store, searching for the culprit.

Then her eyes landed on it. “Oh… It’s this, isn’t it?” She tilted her chin toward a magazine on the rack—the very one that had caught my attention. Its cover was plastered with the smiling faces of “Seven Little Elves,” the wildly popular idol group.

The group Makura used to belong to.

“S-Sorry, I reacted weirdly,” I mumbled, feeling a pang of guilt.

“No, no, it’s totally fine!” Makura flashed a gentle smile, brushing it off. “Come on, hurry up! The ice cream’s over there!” With that, she marched toward the freezers, her steps as lively as ever.

I messed up. I hope she’s not bothered by it… The thought gnawed at me as I followed her, unease settling in my chest.

＊

We each grabbed a popsicle and stepped out of the store, tossing the wrappers into the trash bin by the entrance.

“Man, eating ice cream outside in this heat is just the best, Manamichi-kun!” Makura beamed, savoring her treat.

“It’s already getting close to fall, though. This might be the last one this year.”

“That makes it kinda sad when you think about it…” Her voice softened, and for a moment, we walked in companionable silence, the only sound the faint rustle of our steps.

Makura broke the quiet first. “That thing earlier… It’s been a while, huh?”

“Earlier?”

“Yeah, you know, the faces of the members on that magazine cover.”

“Oh, right.” I blinked, caught off guard. I hadn’t expected her to bring it up herself.

Noticing my surprise, Makura let out a soft chuckle. “It’s not like it’s off-limits or anything, so it’s fine. I mean, you already know everything, Manamichi-kun.”

“R-Right. That’s good then… It’s been a while, huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t see them anymore, and I don’t check SNS either, so I have no idea what they’re up to.”

“Really? You don’t keep in touch with the members either?”

“Nope. I mean, I basically ghosted them. I caused a lot of trouble.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, but there was a weight to her words.

“I see…” I nodded, understanding her perspective. It made sense she wouldn’t feel entitled to reach out after everything.

Hoping to keep the conversation alive, I ventured a cautious question. “Were you close with any of them?”

This felt like my chance to glimpse the old Makura, even just a little.

“Oh, yeah! There was one super important kouhai-chan,” she said, her face lighting up.

“Oh? Younger than you?”

“Yup! She was a huge fan of mine, loved Kamakura Koyuna so much that she became an idol herself and joined the group. She’d call me ‘Senpai, senpai!’ and look up to me. You know, I never did clubs or anything in middle school, so being called that made me so happy. I totally doted on her.”

“‘Was a fan of you’?”

“Yeah, I mean she was one of my fans.”

“Got it. That sounds like a nice memory.”

“Yup! I wonder what she’s up to now…” Makura’s eyes narrowed, a gentle smile curving her lips as she gazed into the distance.

Just then, a girl’s voice called out from behind us. “Senpai!” It was probably some club member calling for their upperclassman.

“Exactly like that. Isn’t it cute when a younger kid comes up to you like that?” Makura grinned, her nostalgia evident.

“Hmm. I’ve never experienced it myself, but… I guess it does feel like they rely on you.”

We continued chatting, our pace unhurried, when the voice rang out again, louder this time. “Senpai!”

Curious, I glanced back. A girl stood there, dressed in a loose black hoodie and skinny jeans that accentuated her slender legs. She was petite but strikingly well-proportioned, her figure impossible to ignore. A black cap perched on her head, with the nape of her short hair just visible beneath it.

“Senpai!” she called once more, and there was no mistaking it—she was the one shouting. But there was no one else around… and her large, sparkling eyes seemed fixed directly on us.

She wasn’t just any girl. Her round face held a youthful charm, but her features were exquisitely refined—thin lips shimmering with glossy red, eyes gleaming with an almost ethereal light. She was an absolute beauty.

“K-Kuruha-chan…” The faint murmur slipped from Makura’s lips beside me.

My heart thudded, caught off guard by Makura’s quiet murmur. “I’m a little disappointed too,” she’d said, her voice soft but carrying a weight that lingered. For a moment, I couldn’t find words, my mind scrambling to process her meaning.

Surprised, I glanced at Makura. Her eyes were wide, fixed on the girl ahead of us. “Senpai…” The word slipped from the girl’s lips, faint and trembling.

Wait, senpai…? My thoughts spun. We’d just been talking about this. Could this girl really be—?

“Why… How are you here?” Makura’s voice wavered, hesitant yet searching as she addressed the girl.

“I never thought I’d actually run into you here, Senpai!” the girl burst out, her words tumbling over each other. “You suddenly disappeared, stopped responding, and even moved out of your old place… I had a shoot nearby today, and I remembered you mentioning your grandma and cousin lived around here. So I thought I’d take a walk, and then, and then—” She paused, her narrowed eyes suddenly snapping to me. “I never imagined you’d be walking with a guy—!”

“Huh—” My jaw dropped, words failing me as I stood there, stunned.

From the situation, it was clear this girl was misunderstanding something big time.

“W-Wait, Kuruha-chan—” Makura tried to interject.

“Senpai, I figured there had to be some reason you vanished like that. Something you couldn’t talk about. But to think it was because you got a boyfriend!?”

“W-Wait, wait, Kuruha-chan!” Makura’s voice grew more urgent.

“I can’t wait! My precious senpai… Who the heck are you!?” The girl’s sharp gaze pinned me in place.

“Kuruha-chan, it’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding. Just listen.” Makura stepped forward, her tone firm but gentle.

The girl puffed out her cheeks, glaring up at Makura with a petulant “Mmph.” Then, in a sudden motion, Makura pulled her into a tight hug.

“It’s been so long, Kuruha-chan,” Makura said softly. “I’m sorry for disappearing like that. I really missed you too.”

“S-Senpai…” Though startled, the girl didn’t pull away, her tension easing slightly in Makura’s embrace.

“This guy’s my friend, Negoro Manamichi-kun,” Makura continued, her voice steady. “He’s in my grade, so he’s your senpai too. Don’t badmouth him—be nice, okay?”

At Makura’s words, the girl’s eyes flicked to me reluctantly. “…Tch, Ne… N-Negoro-senpai…” She forced the title out, her tone grudging, her wary stance still prickly, like a cat sizing up a stranger.

Eventually, she shifted her gaze back to Makura, her expression softening. “…More importantly, Koyuna-senpai, when are you coming back? Without you, I…” Her voice trembled, cracking toward the end.

“W-What’s wrong?” Makura asked, concern lacing her words.

“I don’t even know why I’m doing this idol thing anymore…” The girl’s voice was barely above a whisper, heavy with something unspoken.

Makura, looking flustered, glanced back at me. I gave a slight shake of my head—sorry, but this was moving too fast for me to keep up. The girl was clearly struggling, her emotions raw and teetering on the edge.

“Kuruha-chan…” Makura’s hand found the girl’s head, stroking gently as she paused, lost in thought. Then, as if a spark had ignited, her face lit up. “Hey, Kuruha-chan. Wanna come to my place for a bit?”

The girl lifted her face, blinking in surprise. “Your place, Senpai?”

Makura broke into a bright smile, nodding enthusiastically. “Yup. It’s pretty cozy, you know?”

＊

They say speak of the devil, but this was something else entirely. Now we were heading to Makura’s place with this idol girl who’d appeared out of nowhere, trailing just behind us.

“So, her name’s Uyama Kuruha,” Makura explained as we walked. “Oh, when she’s performing as an idol, she goes by Momomori Kuruha, and everyone calls her ‘Kuruha-tan.’”

“Huh. You said she’s younger, right?”

“Yup! She’s probably in her second year of middle school now.”

Curious, I pulled out my phone and searched for “Momomori Kuruha.” A flood of photos popped up, showing her with her signature short black hair. She was indeed a member of Seven Little Elves—likely one of the faces on that magazine cover earlier.

“…Is this okay?” I lowered my voice, glancing at Makura.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, letting her come to your place. Won’t it make you feel awkward or anything…” My eyes flicked back to Uyama, who walked with her cap pulled low, head slightly bowed.

“Kuruha-chan was the one I was closest to in the group,” Makura said softly. “I ran away without telling her anything… But when we met just now, I felt like I could talk to her pretty normally.”

“I see. If that’s the case, then cool…” Relief eased into me. Makura didn’t seem to be forcing herself, which put my mind at ease.

“Plus, she seemed like she needed someone to look out for her,” Makura added.

“Yeah.” Uyama had definitely seemed troubled, her emotions brimming when Makura hugged her earlier. You couldn’t just leave her like that. Maybe Makura had invited her over to lift her spirits.

As I mulled this over, Makura leaned in with a mischievous grin. “Ohh, Manamichi-kun, are you feeling lonely because our alone time got cut short?”

“That’s some annoying acting…” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

“Ahahaha! But you didn’t deny it!” Her grin widened, brimming with delight.

“N-No, that’s not what I meant—” I scrambled to clarify, my voice betraying a hint of panic.

As I fumbled for words, Makura’s voice dropped to a soft mumble. “I’m a little disappointed too.”

“Huh?” My heart skipped, pounding faster as her words sank in.

“I was looking forward to slacking off with you today too, you know,” Makura said, her voice carrying a playful lilt.

“Oh.” My response came out flat, still reeling from her earlier words.

“But, sorry, just for a bit… She’s really important to me.” Her tone softened, sincerity replacing the teasing edge.

“Yeah, I get it.” I nodded, understanding her concern for Uyama. It was clear how much she cared.

Makura’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

＊

In less than five minutes, we reached Makura’s place. She paused at the entrance, turning to us with a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’s messy, so I need time to tidy up,” she declared, then pointedly added, “Uyama, wait out here for a bit.” Before I could protest, she grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

“W-Wait, why is Negoro-senpai going inside!?” Uyama’s voice spiked with shock, clearly baffled that I, a guy, was being let into a supposedly messy apartment while she was left outside.

“He’s gonna help me get things ready!” Makura called back with a casual grin, shutting the door behind us.

“H-Hold on, what’s your deal, you two!?” Uyama’s shout echoed faintly from the other side.

Following Makura’s lead, I helped her set things up in the hallway. As we worked, I started to piece together her plan. Is she really going through with this? It felt a bit like she was charging ahead, but if this was for Uyama’s sake, I trusted her judgment. I’d just keep an eye on things and follow her lead.

Once everything was ready, Makura bounded to the entrance and flung the door open. “Sorry for the wait! Come on in!”

“E-Excuse me…” Uyama stepped cautiously through the slightly open door, her eyes darting around nervously as she took in the space.

Then her gaze landed on us, and her voice shot up in disbelief. “Huh? You both changed… Wait, Senpai, what are you wearing!?”

Makura stood there in a frilly, lace-trimmed dress-style pajama, grinning ear to ear. “This? Hehe, cute, right?” She grabbed the hem of her skirt and spread it out playfully, twirling slightly.

“What do you think? Huh?”

“W-What do I think… It’s super cute, but there’s a guy here! And the neckline’s way too loose…” Uyama’s cheeks flushed as her eyes flicked toward me.

“It’s fine. Manamichi-kun’s used to it,” Makura said breezily.

“U-Used to it!?” Uyama’s head whipped toward me, her eyes sharpening with suspicion.

Oh no, Makura, that’s gonna cause a misunderstanding… I scrambled to clarify. “U-Used to it, as in, her pajama look, okay?”

“You’re used to her in pajamas!? What does that mean!? You’re just friends, right!?” Uyama’s voice rose, her confusion spiraling.

Crap, that backfired.

“And why are you both in pajamas in the middle of the day… Wait, Negoro-senpai, that tracksuit you changed into, is that—”

“Yeah, technically pajamas…” I admitted, scratching the back of my head.

“Pajamas! It is pajamas!” Uyama’s voice hit a new pitch of incredulity.

At that moment, Makura burst into laughter, her “hehehehehe!” filling the room. “Looks like you’ve figured it out, Kuruha-chan.”

“W-What’s with that character…” Uyama muttered, still dazed.

“This house has a dress code,” Makura declared with mock solemnity. “To proceed further, you must change into pajamas.”

“A house where you have to wear pajamas!?” Uyama’s mouth fell half-open, her mind clearly struggling to keep up.

“Exactly. This isn’t just any house. It’s the ultimate slacking facility!” Makura’s grin was triumphant, as if she’d just unveiled a grand secret.

“S-Slacking…” Uyama echoed, her expression a mix of bewilderment and curiosity.

Makura’s tone shifted back to normal, practical and warm. “Anyway, you didn’t bring pajamas, right? That hoodie you’re wearing—does it count as pajamas? If it passes as pajamas in your mind, that’s fine too.”

“Count? Passes? The concept of pajamas!?” Uyama’s confusion deepened, her voice tinged with exasperation.

“No worries, I’ve got you covered!” Makura chirped. She opened the bathroom door to her left, stepped inside, and emerged with a colorful pile of pajamas in her arms. “I prepared a bunch.”

“Are these all pajamas?” Uyama blinked at the stack, still processing.

“Yup! Come on, Kuruha-chan, let’s get changed. The pajama fashion show is about to begin!” Makura’s energy was infectious as she set the pajamas on the floor and grabbed Uyama’s hand, raising both their hands to the sky with an enthusiastic “Oh!” Uyama, caught up in the moment, let herself be swept along.

Sensing they’d be changing, I read the room and slipped into the living room to give them space.

＊

A few minutes later, Uyama stepped into the living room, now dressed in a button-up pajama covered in red hearts. Her cap was off, revealing her short black bob with bangs lightly swept to the side—a look that suited her perfectly. The pajamas were slightly oversized, the sleeves slipping past her hands as she shyly covered her mouth with her fingers. Her cheeks held a faint flush, her gaze averted.

“What do you think, Manamichi-kun? Cute, right?” Makura asked gleefully from the entrance, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“P-Pajamas!? I’ve never shown anyone my pajama look, not even for work!” Uyama’s voice was flustered as she turned to Makura, her expression a mix of embarrassment and protest.

“Wow, what a waste!” Makura exclaimed. “You’re so cute, Kuruha-chan, your pajama look should be shared with the entire nation! Right, Manamichi-kun?”

“Y-Yeah, definitely,” I agreed, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“Hey, Negoro-senpai, don’t look!” Uyama snapped, twisting her body as if to hide her pajamas, her cheeks flaring brighter.

As expected of an idol, though. Her face was perfectly proportioned, and she radiated a certain sparkle—an aura that set her apart. In everyday life, I’d never seen a girl like her. Even the prettiest girl at school, rumored to be the most beautiful, would probably pale next to Uyama.

Well, our school does have one final-boss-level person in the infirmary, so that’s an exception…

Makura nodded in satisfaction at my response before turning to Uyama with a grin. “Alright, next one!”

“N-Next!?” Uyama’s eyes widened, clearly caught off guard.

Well, she did say it was a fashion show, I thought, watching as Makura dragged her dress-up doll back to the hallway with an infectious burst of enthusiasm.

Uyama stepped into the room, now clad in a cozy teddy bear-patterned pajama set, the sweatshirt-like material looking irresistibly soft. A brown hairband adorned with bear ears sat playfully on her head.

“Here we go! Bear-bear fashion!” Makura announced, her eyes sparkling as she nudged me for a reaction.

“V-Very nice, isn’t it?” I managed, instantly regretting the bland response. Something wittier, like, “The gap of a boyish girl in cute pajamas is perfect!” or “Those fluffy bear ears make me wanna pat her head!” would’ve been better.

Uyama’s flushed, upturned gaze met mine from beside Makura, her embarrassment palpable. My courage faltered—I didn’t yet have the nerve to toss out bold compliments to a girl so visibly shy. What a shame…

Makura, arms crossed, nodded approvingly. “Alright, let’s change into the next one!”

“W-We’re still doing this? Can’t we just go inside already?” Uyama protested, her voice tinged with exasperation.

“But I finally got to see my cute Kuruha-chan after so long! I’ve gotta savor it!” Makura’s grin was unrelenting.

“Savor!? What does that even mean!?” Uyama’s confusion only deepened.

Maybe this was how Makura doted on her back in their idol days? I could picture Uyama reluctantly going along with it then, too. The fact that she’d sought out Makura, even by chance, spoke volumes about the trust between them.

Next up was—a wild rabbit. Uyama emerged in a pink bunny onesie, complete with drooping white ears and a heart-shaped pocket on the belly.

I’d never seen this one before. Makura’s got pajamas like this too? I stared, caught off guard.

“H-How is it… pyon?” Uyama tilted her head slightly, her hesitant voice punctuated by the cutesy sound.

Was that “pyon” deliberate, instinctive, or did Makura put her up to it?

“I-Is this okay?” Uyama turned to Makura, confirming it was indeed the latter. She tried to shield her bunny outfit with both hands, shooting me a sulky glance.

Oh, right, she’s expecting a comment… “Well, it’s cute…” I said honestly, keeping it short. It was all I could muster.

Uyama lifted her face, blinking a few times. “Th-Thank you.” She gave a small bow, her droopy ears flopping forward. When she looked up again, her lips pursed slightly, as if unsatisfied, before she averted her gaze.

She seems fundamentally honest… not a bad kid, I thought.

“Hey, Manamichi-kun…?” Makura’s voice came from the doorway, pulling my attention.

“Don’t I get any comments?”

I’d noticed, of course. Makura had changed too, now sporting the shark onesie I’d seen her in before. I’d been so focused on the bunny outfit that my reaction to her was delayed.

“Y-Yeah, it suits you,” I said, trying to recover.

“That’s it?” Makura huffed. “You were all like, ‘So cute, my bunny!’ to the rabbit just now, but all I get is a ‘suits you,’ Shark!?”

“A shark sound effect!?” I sputtered, caught off guard.

“Ugh, dummy!” Puffing out her cheeks in a pout, Makura grabbed Uyama’s arm and marched back to the hallway.

Looks like I’d upset her. Of course, Makura’s shark wasn’t… bad either.

“W-Wait, Koyuna-senpai! This is too much! Why do you even have something like this!?” Uyama’s voice carried from the hallway, laced with panic.

“Ehehe, cute, right? I got them in different colors!” Makura replied gleefully.

Through the frosted glass door, I caught a silhouette flailing about. “N-No way, this is bad! I’m a different size from you, Senpai, what if it slips!?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Just try it on. You’ll totally rock it, Kuruha-chan!”

It sounded like Makura was pushing Uyama into something risky. Fleeting glimpses of skin tone flickered through the glass, and I quickly averted my eyes. What kind of outfit… I swallowed hard.

Finally, the door swung open with a flourish, and the two girls stepped out, standing close together. “Ta-da!” Makura exclaimed.

The shoulder straps were mere strings. Makura wore a red camisole dress with a velvet long-sleeve robe, while Uyama was in a matching white set.

“Look, pretty sexy, right?” Makura said, twisting her hips to show off her back. The open neckline revealed a glimpse of cleavage, two beautifully rounded shapes asserting their presence.

“I-It’s impressive,” I stammered, struggling to find a safe place to rest my eyes.

“Hm? Impressive how?” Makura stepped closer, peering into my face with a teasing smile. When she leaned forward, the view deepened, her cheeks faintly flushed. Why’s she going all-in like that…

I had to meet her expectations. “It’s… really beautiful, I think,” I said, my honesty slipping out.

Makura’s face lit up with a happy “Ehehehe!” “I don’t wear this often, you know. It’s like Makura Koiro, SSR rarity!”

“SSR?”

“Super Super Rare!” she declared proudly.

As we talked, Uyama’s voice cut in, small and unsteady. “C-Can we stop now…?” She’d been fidgeting behind Makura, her robe now pulled tightly closed, clutched with both hands.

“You’re super cute too, Kuruha-chan! Don’t hide it!” Makura exclaimed, grabbing Uyama’s arm. The motion caused Uyama’s robe to flutter open, revealing her petite frame draped in white satin. The slightly oversized pajamas left extra room at the sleeves and neckline, teasing glimpses of skin as they shifted.

“Ah!” Uyama gasped, her cheeks flaring.

“We did something like this together for a magazine shoot back then, right? Hugging like this,” Makura said, pulling Uyama into a tight embrace.

“W-Wait, Senpai!” Uyama protested, but Makura’s enthusiasm was unstoppable. The hug was so vigorous that Uyama lost her balance, and both girls tumbled to the floor with a yelp.

“Eek!” Uyama landed on her backside, Makura collapsing atop her.

From where I stood, an unbelievable sight unfolded. From the hem of Makura’s red dress peeked delicate white lace trim. And between Uyama’s spread legs, a flash of sky-blue fabric glimmered, like a clear summer day.

Makura hurriedly sat up, tugging her camisole’s hem down. Uyama scrambled to her feet, snapping her legs shut and pressing her hands over them. Both turned piercing glares on me.

“D-Did you see?” Makura demanded.

“Pervert!” Uyama snapped.

“N-No, I didn’t see anything!” I waved my hands frantically, pleading innocence.

“Liar. You saw, didn’t you?” Makura pressed, her eyes narrowing.

“No, nothing!”

“It was an accident, so I’m not mad or anything,” she said, her tone deceptively gentle.

“…Well, it was kinda unavoidable—” I started, falling for her softness.

“Just gotta erase your memory a bit.”

“I didn’t see ANYTHING!” I blurted, panic rising. Erase my memory? What, with a physical method?

“Hmph… Manamichi-kun, where were you born? Is your mom doing well?” Makura’s voice took on a mock-interrogative lilt.

“Oi, what is this, a detective trying to build rapport during an interrogation!?” I shot back, exasperated.

In the end, they deemed the camisole pajamas too risky with a guy around. Makura and Uyama retreated to the hallway to change into something less revealing.

Left alone in the room, vivid flashes of red and blue flickered in my mind. Each time, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to recall them clearly. …It’s not my fault, right?

＊

“What even was that…” Uyama muttered, slumping onto the floor with a heavy sigh as she reentered the room. She looked drained, clearly worn out from keeping up with Makura’s whirlwind energy. I feel you.

She’d changed back into her original hoodie, likely because she had to head back to work soon.

“Sorry, all I’ve got is tea!” Makura’s voice called from the hallway. Glancing over, I saw a shark rummaging through the fridge. …She really loves that thing, huh.

“Oh, no, please don’t worry about it,” Uyama replied politely toward the hallway.

Makura returned to the living room, balancing two plastic bottles, closing the fridge door with a casual bump of her hip. “Sorry, I’ll pour the tea into cups.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for barging in like this,” Uyama said, her tone apologetic.

“No, not at all! I wish you could stay longer—Oh, Manamichi-kun, that bottle you brought the other day is still unopened in the fridge. That okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” I nodded. I’d bought two bottles of water last time but only drank one, leaving the other since I knew I’d be back. My throat was parched from all the commotion, so I opened the bottle and took a sip.

Uyama’s cat-like eyes, slightly upturned at the corners, fixed on me as she spoke up. “So, what’s the deal with you two? I have to leave soon, but before I go, please tell me that much. Negoro-senpai seems to come here a lot.”

Her hostility had softened, replaced by a need to understand. I mumbled, “The deal…” and glanced at Makura, hoping she’d take the lead. I wasn’t sure what to say or how much to reveal.

“If you two are, like, dating or something secret like that, I won’t tell anyone,” Uyama added, her voice earnest but edged with worry. “It’s just… if you quit being an idol because of that, it’s kinda—well, super, unbelievably disappointing. I might secretly resent you a bit.” She shot me a sullen look before turning to Makura. “But still, I’ll keep it a secret. I want to stay on Koyuna-senpai’s side forever.”

Makura let out a soft breath and sat seiza-style in front of Uyama, her expression thoughtful. “Hmm, yeah, I should probably tell you, Kuruha-chan.”

I straightened my posture, mirroring her. Uyama swallowed hard, the air thick with anticipation.

“In this room, Manamichi-kun and I—” Makura paused, her voice steady but deliberate. I braced myself, catching the nervous hitch in Uyama’s breath.

“—are slacking off.”

Uyama blinked rapidly, her confusion evident. “…Slacking?”

“Yup, slacking,” Makura confirmed with a nod.

“Slacking…” Uyama repeated, her brow furrowing as she tilted her head, clearly lost.

Well, yeah, that alone wouldn’t make sense. I jumped in to clarify. “Basically, we hang out in the room, chill, and have fun.”

“Chill?” Uyama echoed, still puzzled.

Makura’s enthusiasm surged. “Exactly! Chilling, lazing around. Doing whatever we want, napping, staying inside all day on weekends, snuggling under blankets in an air-conditioned room.”

“Uh… Do you eat properly?” Uyama asked, grasping for something concrete amidst her bewilderment.

“Yup! Well, lots of instant noodles and frozen food, though,” Makura replied cheerfully.

“You don’t go out on weekends either?” Uyama asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Nope! In pajamas all day.”

“Oh! What about that strength training routine you used to do every day without fail, Senpai?”

“Oh, that was pretty tough, huh? Wonder if I could still do it,” Makura mused, her tone nostalgic but unconcerned.

“W-What… You’ll get sick like this! Where’s the Senpai from back then—the idol days!?” Uyama’s shout echoed with frustration, the gap between the old Makura and the current one clearly too much for her to process.

It made sense. Makura had mentioned Uyama was a huge fan of the idol Kamakura Koyuna, after all.

“Slacking? I don’t get it! Why would you do that, Senpai…?” Uyama’s voice wavered, caught between confusion and disappointment.

Makura’s grin turned sly. “But Kuruha-chan, you’ve wandered into the headquarters of the Fallen Cult, where we promote slacking! Now, say it—Dara~n!”

“Dara~n!” I chimed in, caught up in the moment.

“Repeat after me, Darara~n!”

“Darara~n!”

Uyama’s eyes darted between us, her expression one of pure terror. “W-Wait, what’s wrong with you two!? This is creepy…”

“Dara~n!”

“Darara~n!”

“S-Sorry, I’ve gotta go, bye!” Uyama yanked her cap on and bolted from the living room, clearly desperate to escape.

“Wait, do you know the way back?” Makura called after her, but the sound of the hallway door swinging open answered her question.

I jumped up and chased after Uyama. Slipping on my shoes, I caught up to her at the bottom of the apartment stairs. “You okay? Want me to walk you to the station?”

Uyama paused, glancing at me sidelong. “I’m fine,” she said curtly before starting to walk again. But then, a faint murmur reached my ears. “Why… My admired Senpai—”

“Admired?” I asked reflexively.

She stopped abruptly, turning back with a startled look. “…Please don’t tell Koyuna-senpai I said that. It was just my inner thoughts slipping out…”

“O-Oh, you mean the admired part?”

“Yes. I can’t really talk to the current Koyuna-senpai about it… So, keep it a secret.” With a small bow, Uyama resumed her walk toward the station.

Climbing the stairs, I found Makura at the entrance, peeking outside. We stepped back into the apartment together.

“…Did we go too far?” Makura asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Yeah…” I admitted, feeling a pang of guilt. I’d gotten carried away too, and now I wondered if we’d pushed Uyama too hard. Her words about admiring Makura lingered in my mind.

The room fell quiet, the air heavy with reflection. Then, as if to shake off the mood, Makura spoke up brightly. “Well, pretty much everyone reacts like that at first, so it’s fine! If slacking spreads to the masses, things’ll change eventually.”

“Sounds like a legit cult leader’s concern!” I quipped, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Honestly, I’d been weirded out and put off by Makura’s slacking obsession at first too…

“Hahaha, kidding aside, I thought I’d cheer her up in my own way,” Makura said, her tone softening as she gazed into the distance, her eyes narrowing with a mix of fondness and worry.

I wasn’t sure how to respond, but her voice continued, soft and wistful. “I wonder if we’ll meet again…”