Chapter 10 | Summer Break Escape

This trip—my first real venture outside of school events—felt like uncharted territory. I had no memories of overnight stays with friends or even family, so the restless flutter in my chest when I woke up was a new sensation. Was it the thrill of the “trip” itself, or was it because of the person I was sharing it with? Either way, I got ready in high spirits and left the house with plenty of time to spare for our meeting.

At the station, I waited about ten minutes before spotting her approaching from a distance. Her cap was pulled low—maybe to shield her face from the sun, or perhaps for another reason? But when she noticed me, she tipped it up with a flick of her finger and jogged over.

“Yo, Manamichi-kun!” she called out, her voice bright.

“Y-Yo…” I managed, my eyes catching her outfit. “Ah, those clothes.”

“Yup! The ones we bought the other day. How’s it look, huh?” Makura spread her arms, twisting right and left to show off the tracksuit set we’d ordered online together. The long sleeves were rolled up, and the pants were folded to her knees, giving her a casual, sporty edge.

“Whoa, looks pretty good, doesn’t it?” I said, taking in the black sneakers and the cap that completed her look. Her exposed legs, pale and slender, gleamed under the sunlight. …Yeah, well, she looks good in anything… cute, really. I nearly let “as expected” slip out but caught myself just in time.

“You really pull off any style. That’s impressive,” I said instead, offering my honest thoughts.

Makura grinned, her “Ehehe” radiating pure delight. “But, y’know, these are still pajamas.”

“Hm? Well, yeah, between us, they’re pajamas. That’s why we got ’em.”

“Exactly! But to others, they probably don’t scream ‘pajamas,’ so I picked these. I’m not breaking my summer break pajama rule!” She smirked, then cast a quick glance around the station.

It was a weekday afternoon, with people hurrying by, none sparing us a second look. …Is she checking if anyone recognizes her as Kamakura Koyuna? I wondered.

“You’re the type to stick to your decisions, huh?” I teased.

“Haha. Oh, should I have brought yours too?” Makura eyed my outfit as she spoke. We’d bought matching tracksuits on a whim, and mine was still at her place as loungewear.

“Nah, that’d bring trouble.”

“What, you don’t want to match with me?” she teased, tilting her head playfully.

“Matching tracksuits would draw way too much attention. I wouldn’t know if it’s the heat or people’s stares.”

“Ahaha, fair point. Gotta watch out for heatstroke.” She nodded, conceding the point. No sense picking subtle pajamas if we’d stand out anyway.

For the record, my outfit was built for movement too, though not quite tracksuit-level. A plain white T-shirt with a small chest pocket and gray shorts—basic, mom-picked “good enough” clothes. My non-school wardrobe didn’t offer much variety.

“Man, setting the meetup for the afternoon was a great call,” She said.

“Early mornings are bad cost-performance, right?” I replied.

“You get it! I can’t even wake up that early. My appearance rate’s, like, 2% on time.”

“What are you, a rare monster from a game!?” I quipped, thinking of a game we’d played together, and Makura burst out laughing.

Honestly, I was relieved. I’d been worried we’d carry over yesterday’s awkwardness, but her laughter washed that fear away.

“So… Manamichi-kun, where’re you taking me today?” she asked, her tone light but curious.

“Oh, right, let’s go.” We stepped into the station together. “Onto the train, far away—”

＊

“Eating snacks while the train rocks! Feels like a journey!” Makura exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement as she sat by the window, tearing open a bag of chocolate snacks we’d grabbed at a kiosk.

“Well, it is a journey, isn’t it?” I replied, leaning back in my seat.

“Ehehe, a journey, huh? Journey, trip. Sounds nice!” Her smile was infectious as she popped a chocolate into her mouth.

“Oh, you like chocolate, don’t you?”

“Yup, love it! Why?”

“Just noticed you’re always eating it.” Whenever we gamed or read manga together, chocolate was her go-to snack. I’d figured it was just a preference.

“I’m, like, obsessed! I’d get withdrawal symptoms without it.”

“Withdrawal?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, like shaky hands, headaches, irritability. ‘Need my choco-fix!’”

“Don’t make it sound like nicotine,” I teased.

“Ahaha. But sweet stuff’s addictive, right?” Her grin suggested her love for chocolate bordered on dependency.

We kept up the light chatter for about an hour, the train’s gentle sway setting a relaxed rhythm. Our stop was nearing. Yesterday, alone in my room, I’d planned this trip. The goal had come to me quickly—a quick smartphone search, and I’d settled on a destination. The tricky part was lodging, but after some calls, I’d found a ryokan that allowed minors to stay without parental consent and booked it easily enough. I hadn’t thought much about the journey itself or what to do besides the main goal, though.

“Oh, it’s almost our station. Where to next?” Makura’s casual question caught me off guard, stirring a flicker of panic.

“Uh, well…” It was nearing 3:30 p.m. I’d researched the town, but it didn’t seem to have much in the way of entertainment. Rural, not a tourist spot, it was mostly nature and homes.

“Wait, you don’t have a plan?” she asked, tilting her head as I glanced at my phone again.

“No, I mean, I booked a ryokan, but it’s a bit early for check-in. I’ve never been to this station before, so…”

“Gotcha, me neither… How about over there?” She pointed out the window, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“There?” I followed her gaze, curious.

“The ultimate, unbeatable lazy spot for us.”

We got off the train and headed to the place we’d seen from the window.

The sea stretched endlessly before us, its blue expanse kissed by salty breezes, merging with the sky at a distant horizon where small waves sparkled under the fading light. From the train, we’d caught sight of a fishing port and its breakwater, a short walk from the station. As we stepped off, the sea-scented air brushed our faces, carrying a hint of salt and freedom.

A ten-step staircase led to a lookout spot by the breakwater. We climbed it and leaned against the iron railing, gazing out at the waves, their rhythmic murmur filling the quiet between us. Makura was right—this was the ultimate lazy spot. The same relaxed vibe that lingered in her room seemed to settle here, wrapping us in a comfortable ease.

No swimming, no sandy beach games, but just standing here, taking in the “sea,” felt like checking off a “summery thing” from some unspoken list.

“Another summery thing checked off, huh?”

“Oh, I guess so?”

“I kinda wanted to chill and soak in the sunset, though.”

“And that counts as checking it off?”

She nodded, her hair fluttering in the wind as she closed her eyes, savoring the moment. I couldn’t help but steal a glance at her profile, serene and unguarded.

“Feels nice~” she murmured, her voice soft against the sound of the waves.

“Yeah, just right~” I echoed, slumping against the railing beside her. Makura even rested her cheek on the cool metal, looking perfectly at ease.

A faint coolness brushed my ears now and then—not quite autumn’s arrival, but a whisper of summer’s end that carried a quiet loneliness. Still, the moment felt comfortable, no sweat, no rush. “Feels like autumn’s creeping in a bit,” she said, as if reading my thoughts.

“……Yeah, maybe.”

We chatted loosely, our words drifting like the breeze. When the conversation lulled, Makura tilted her head and tossed out a question. “Manamichi-kun, what’re you thinking about?”

“Oh. That horizon out there… it’s probably ten kilometers away.”

“Peak science nerd!” she exclaimed, laughing. “You’re thinking about that in a moment like this!?”

“It just crossed my mind, that’s all,” I said, shrugging. Sometimes my brain wandered to random calculations—how far off thunder was, or how fast clouds moved across the sky.

“By the way, for someone 170cm tall looking at the sea from the coast, the horizon’s about five kilometers away. Depends on the weather, though. For every 30cm taller, it extends about 300 meters. We’re on a ten-meter platform, so it’s roughly ten kilometers—”

“Whoa, whoa, stop, that spell’s too strong for me!” Makura interrupted, waving her hands.

“It’s not even complicated.”

“I developed a number allergy as a kid!” She covered her ears, eyes squeezed shut, letting out a playful “Wah, wah!” It was just basic math, but her reaction was so dramatic I couldn’t help but grin.

She quieted down, then murmured, “Wait, but if you can see straight out forever, why’s the horizon only that far? Bad eyesight?”

A genuine question, it seemed. I leaned forward slightly, ready to explain. “Simple. The Earth’s a sphere. The distance to the horizon can be found using the Pythagorean theorem. Draw a line from your eyes to the horizon, a line from the horizon to the Earth’s center at a right angle, and a line from the center to your eye height. The radius of the Earth is about 6,300km, so if we add the height of 170cm to the platform height—”

“Fff-fuooohhh!” Makura trembled, covering her ears again, her expression comically exaggerated.

“It’s all middle school stuff,” I said, unfazed.

“Look, I’ve got goosebumps!” She thrust out her arm, and sure enough, tiny bumps dotted her skin. How bad is she at math…?

“You’re really smart, Manamichi-kun,” she said, her tone softening.

“Not really… Besides—” I started to reply, but as I glanced at her, I noticed her cheeks puffed out, her eyes fixed on me with a pout.

“W-What’s wrong?”

“But…” she began, hesitating.

“But?”

“But… this convo doesn’t feel date-like!” she blurted, her voice rising slightly.

“D-Date!?” I echoed, caught off guard.

Makura nodded vigorously, her fair skin betraying a faint flush on her cheeks. “It’s a date, right? I mean, it’s just the two of us, at the sea, planning to stay overnight.”

“W-we-well…” I stammered, my mind scrambling.

“Oh, w-was I wrong? Did I make a mistake?” Her eyes dropped, a flicker of sadness crossing her face.

Seeing her like that sent a jolt of panic through me. “D-Date, huh. A date? Yeah, it’s a date.”

“A date…?” she asked, her voice tentative.

“Yup, exactly. We’re on a date right now!” I said, trying to sound confident.

“Really? Then let’s talk more date-like!”

“What’s date-like talk!?” I asked, genuinely baffled.

“Y’know, like confessing your love or… stuff like that, right?” She looked up at me, her expression a mix of mischief and something softer, making my heart skip.

Confess my love? Love? My feelings for Makura? My mind raced. If she’s saying this, does that mean she—?

I opened my mouth, started an “Ah—,” then stopped, words failing me. Makura watched me closely, her eyes glinting. Then, she broke into a wide grin. “Just kidding! Did I get ya?”

“Eh…?”

“It was just a joke, ehe.” She laughed, her “Hahaha” bright and carefree.

My mouth hung open for a few seconds, processing. “Uh, what’s that mean…?”

“You kept chanting number spells even after I said stop, so I thought I’d get you back a bit.”

“So the date stuff was…?”

“A joke… or meant to be.” She paused, then added with a playful tilt of her head, “But maybe you saw this trip as a romantic escape?”

“Just a summer memory trip for the teacher and student of depravity,” I shot back, trying to regain my footing.

“Ahahahaha!” Makura clutched her stomach, laughing brightly.

“But it was kinda fun,” Makura said, her voice light but sincere.

“You’re still teasing me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, no, the Earth stuff.” She smiled, genuinely impressed. “Explaining obvious things about the world with solid knowledge—it’s cool and impressive.”

Her words warmed my chest, a fuzzy feeling spreading through me. I’d been praised for good grades before, but this was different, somehow more personal. “Oh… Good to hear.”

“Haha, I think I got a bit smarter from that,” she added, her grin widening.

“Still, I totally fell for the date thing. Thought you were serious…” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.

“I’m pretty expressive, right?” she said, chuckling softly.

“Yeah, very.” Is it because she was an idol, used to performing like that…? I wondered, catching the way her hair lifted in the strong breeze, her faint smile tilting her head just so. I opened my mouth to say something—

“Fight’s over, lovebirds?” a voice interrupted.

We spun around, startled. An elderly man with white hair and a hunched back was climbing the stairs, gripping the railing. Makura quickly turned toward the sea, tugging her tracksuit collar up to hide her face.

“Guess I’ll intrude now,” the old man said, stepping into the lookout. His narrow, crinkled eyes scanned us as he spoke. “If it’s a date, you gotta get along, lovebirds.”

“Uh, y-yeah… wait, l-lovebirds?” I stammered, flustered, exchanging a quick glance with Makura. Was he listening? Since when? The whole thing? …The thought that he assumed we were a couple sent a rush of embarrassment through me.

“N-No, we’re not a couple!” I blurted out, feeling the need to clarify after our earlier conversation.

“That so?” The old man tilted his head, looking between us. “But you two look good together.”

Another blow!? Makura’s face was lowered, her cheeks tinged red. Is she embarrassed too?

“We’re just friends,” I insisted.

He laughed, a warm “Ho ho hoo.” “Sorry for botherin’ you youngsters. These stairs are my walkin’ route.” Stretching his arms as if exercising, he glanced at the sea, offered a quick apologetic gesture, and slowly descended the stairs, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.

“…………”

“…………”

We watched his back until he reached the bottom and turned out of sight. Makura let out a “Phew.”

“Man, didn’t see that coming,” she said, her voice a mix of relief and amusement.

“Yeah, getting mistaken like that,” I agreed, nodding.

She glanced at me, then pursed her lips in a sulky frown. “W-Wait, to you, I’m just a friend?”

“Hey, you don’t quit, huh? Still going?”

“Ahahaha. Well, can’t exactly call us shut-in buddies, right? Hard to explain.” Her laughter eased my tension, but her next words made my shoulders stiffen again. “So, how was it? Being told we look good together?”

“H-H-Ho-Ho-Ho-How?” I stammered, spectacularly caught off guard.

“Didn’t feel bad, right?” she pressed, her grin sly.

“N-No way! Definitely not!” I said, a fierce wave of embarrassment crashing over me. Bad? Of course not. Makura and me, a couple… it feels… kinda nice to think about… I shook my head, trying to banish the thought. “W-What about you?”

“Hmm… Not bad,” she said, her grin turning mischievous.

“Pretty high and mighty, huh!?” I teased, trying to deflect.

“Hahaha, kidding, kidding. It’s not just ‘not bad’…… But more like, I’m totally fine with it? Y’know?”

“O-Oh, that’s, uh……”

“W-wait, did I just say something weird?”

‘Totally fine’ means she’s okay with it. So, Makura’s saying she doesn’t mind being seen as a couple with me…… My heartbeat’s racing so fast I can barely stand it.

I managed a shaky “Hahaha” in response, unsure how to react. When our laughter faded, Makura’s voice softened. “Well, and…”

“And?” I prompted, catching the shift in her tone.

Her gaze drifted to the sea, where the once-blue sky now glowed faintly white, hinting at the approach of evening. The gentle sea breeze had grown heavier, carrying a weightier edge. Amid its sound, she spoke, her voice nearly lost to the wind.

“…And, I thought, I wish I could be more confident.”

The words reached me, quiet but clear, stirring something deep as the waves rolled on.

＊

The quaint, old-fashioned minshuku was spotless, not a speck of dust in sight despite its modest size—about five rooms, according to its online listing. Labeled a “minshuku” rather than a full ryokan, it still came with free hot spring tickets and solid reviews. Before 5 p.m., we checked in, and Makura’s eyes lit up as she stepped into our room.

“Wow! So pretty! I love tatami rooms in ryokans!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“Really? Glad you like it, then,” I replied, relieved.

“Yup! Love it. Thanks for booking.”

Before 5 p.m., we checked into our lodging.

The quaint, old-fashioned building was spotless inside, not a speck of dust in the room. Labeled a “minshuku” online, it had about five rooms. Small, but it came with free hot spring tickets and had solid reviews.

“Well, good job surviving the long trip.”

Sitting on a cushion, Makura settled across the table from me.

“It was tiring, but pretty fun.”

Her soft smile reassured me a bit.

With a big exhale, Makura tilted her head and flopped her cheek onto the table.

“Cheek’s cool. Feels nice.”

“Oh, nice.”

“Tatami…… smells good.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“Japanese room…… so calming.”

“You’re not about to fall asleep from relaxing too much, are you?” I teased, noticing her drowsy tone.

She laughed, a lazy “Uhahaha,” lifting just her face to meet my gaze, chin still on the table. “So, Manamichi-kun, why’d you pick this town for the trip?”

The reason was simple. “This,” I said, pointing to a colorful flyer on the table, nestled beside the inn’s guide, marked with today’s date.

Makura let out a small “Eh,” picking it up. “A fireworks festival…?”

“Yeah. Wanna check off another summery thing?” I hadn’t forgotten her wish to see fireworks at a park at night.

“I wanna go!” Her voice bounced with excitement, but as she stared at the flyer, a flicker of worry crossed her face. I’d anticipated that reaction.

“Pajamas might stand out, huh?” I said, flicking my eyes to the corner where the inn’s yukata sat in a lacquered wooden box. “This place is small, but it’s a hot spring town, and lots of people wear the inn’s yukata to the fireworks. Those yukata… they’re for sleeping too, right?”

Her lips curved into a knowing smile. “Pajamas, huh?”

“Yup. Here, you can go to the fireworks in pajamas without standing out.” It fit her summer break pajama rule perfectly.

“Got it. You planned this—planned it for me,” she said, her tone warm with realization.

Once the idea hit, I’d searched for upcoming fireworks festivals, narrowing it down to a nearby hot spring town that met her conditions. I was open to longer trips, but this one, still in our prefecture, was perfect—though the festival was tomorrow, so I’d scrambled to secure a booking. “It’s room-only, so wanna grab food at the festival?”

Makura’s eyes stayed on the flyer, the vibrant fireworks reflected in her gaze. When she looked up, our eyes met, and she smiled, radiant and unguarded. “Yeah. Let’s go. I’m excited!”

I clenched my fist subtly, a quiet thrill running through me. I was just happy to share this moment with her, already imagining how her eyes would shine brighter under the real fireworks.

＊

Red lanterns hung sparsely along the narrow path, their warm glow dotting the night. As we walked toward the dock, more people joined the flow, all heading the same way. The first stall we hit was baby castella, and we bought a small bag to share.

“The real feast’s coming. Gotta pace ourselves.”

Makura laughed, popping a castella in her mouth, then tilting the bag toward me. I grabbed one.

We both wore the inn’s matching yukata, her hair tied up in a bun, exposing the pale curve of her neck and nape. Our unfamiliar geta clacked softly as we walked, the sea scent guiding us along the moonlit, lantern-lit path.

“Yakisoba, takoyaki, fried chicken, cotton candy,” Makura listed, her eyes scanning the stalls.

“How much are you planning to eat?” I teased.

“Heh heh heh. First time in a while I’ve come back to the mortal realm. Gotta taste the commoners’ food,” she said with a mischievous grin.

“Saying that from a second-floor apartment? Life must be fun.”

“Ahahaha. Well, whoever enjoys it wins.”

The chatter flowed easily as the crowd thickened, mostly locals from the look of it, their laughter ringing out. A glance at my phone showed just past 7 p.m. Spotting a takoyaki stall, we joined the line. As we waited, a group of four lined up behind us, and suddenly, Makura grabbed the hem of my yukata, sidling closer.

I flinched, caught off guard. She twitched too, but her fingers held on, a light tug at the fabric. My pulse quickened, a warmth spreading through me.

“W-What’s up?”

“Uh, s-so I don’t get lost?”

“Why’s that a question?”

“Ahahaha… Honestly, I just felt like holding on. Right here.” She tugged my hem up slightly, showing me.

Maybe it was the lively atmosphere getting to her. That’s what I thought, carefree, at the time.

We bought our takoyaki and headed to the port. The wide road by the dock—usually a parking lot—was lined with stall tents today. People grabbed food here, then headed to the wharf for fireworks viewing, some securing spots first before returning to the stalls. The crowd was thick, buzzing with anticipation.

“What now? Should we grab anything else? Drinks, maybe?” I asked, checking the time again—7:20. The fireworks were starting soon.

“Y-Yeah. Just drinks, let’s get ’em. C’mon,” Makura said, her grip tightening on my yukata hem.

She seemed excited, but the trembling in her hand betrayed something else—something was off. “Hey, you okay?” I asked, my voice low with concern.

“Oh, look, there’s bottled drinks over there! Ramune too! Been forever since I had some. The ones chilled with ice are so good, right?” She rattled off the words quickly, as if dodging silence. Her face was pale, her hair clinging to her forehead—cold sweat, maybe?

“Shaved ice over there! We gotta try it later. Homemade’s great, but you gotta taste the real deal—” She kept talking, jumping from one topic to the next, like she was afraid to pause. Then it happened.

“Kya!” Distracted, she bumped shoulders with a passerby.

“Whoops, you alright?” A man in his 50s, holding a beer can, turned with a stumble. His voice perked up as he looked at her. “Whoa, you’re gorgeous! Where you from?”

“S-Sorry,” Makura mumbled, darting to my side, clutching my hem tighter as if to hide.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked, her ghostly white face and trembling fingers setting off alarms in my head.

The man raised his beer, his loud voice drawing attention. “Hey, everyone! We got a real beauty at the festival!”

A local, probably—his buddies laughed, stepping closer. “Lemme see. We got a cutie in our town?”

“Messing with young girls again? Fireworks ain’t even started, and you’re already drunk,” another teased.

“—Wait, this girl looks familiar…” A younger guy with a towel draped over his head leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “Oh? You know her?”

“Nah, I’m into idols, right? This girl, she looks like Kamakura…”

Crap, did he recognize her as Kamakura Koyuna? I stepped between them, shielding her. “—You okay?” I started to ask, but—

“Makura!?” Her eyes wavered wildly, locking onto my face. The next instant, she collapsed, her legs giving out like she’d fainted.

I caught her, pulling her close to keep her from hitting the ground. “H-Hey, miss, you alright?” one of the men called out.

“Someone! Call the medics!” another shouted, the commotion swelling as more eyes turned our way.

Makura leaned heavily on my shoulder, shakily trying to stand and walk. I wanted to tell her to stay still, but her words echoed in my mind—“Don’t want to be seen in pajamas.” “Hate standing out.” She’d said it often, and I’d thought it was just a quirk, a mild dislike of attention. But was this moment far more unbearable for her than I’d realized?

…If so—

As she took a wobbly step, I scooped her up from behind.

“Kyaa! ehh, Manamichi-kun!?”

With my left arm under her back, right under her knees, a classic princess carry. No deeper meaning. It was just the easiest way to hold and move her.

The first girl I’d ever carried was so light, even I, out of shape, could manage effortlessly.

“Hold on properly.”

I started running, weaving through the buzzing crowd to find somewhere quiet, away from prying eyes. Makura wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her face into my chest. The hot summer air and the heat from the festival stalls clung to my skin, the takoyaki bag on my wrist rustling annoyingly. Dodging people by inches, I sprinted through the stall-lined road, veering into narrow streets and alleys, pushing deeper into the backroads. Empty lots appeared, and we reached a wide river, the festival’s noise fading into the distance.

No one was around. Gently, I set Makura down, letting her feet touch the ground. She slumped, and I tried to check on her, but my own state was a mess. “Haa, haa, haa,” I panted, my stamina drained. Carrying someone and sprinting had pushed my chronically out-of-shape body to its limit. “Haa, haa, haa, haa—” Making it this far felt like a miracle, fueled by pure adrenaline.

“A-Are you okay?” Makura asked, her voice shaky as she stood, rubbing my back.

“I’m fine. You calmed down?” I managed between breaths.

“Yeah. Kinda had to,” she said with a wry smile.

“S-Sorry.”

“No, thank you. Really, you saved me…” Her voice was soft, sincere.

Once my breathing steadied, we climbed onto the river’s concrete wall, sitting atop the chest-high barrier, our legs dangling. I curled my toes slightly, wary of losing my geta. The dark sea stretched to our right, waves lapping rhythmically. The faint hum of the festival crowd reached us, barely audible. A glance at my phone showed it was nearing 7:30.

“…Hey, Makura,” I said, my voice quiet.

“…Yeah?” Her wide, double-lidded eyes were fixed on the river’s surface, her lashes curling toward the sky.

“Can I ask?”

She nodded slightly. “Yeah…”

Sitting on the concrete wall by the river, the distant hum of the festival barely reached us, drowned out by the rhythmic lapping of waves. Makura’s question hung in the air, her eyes still fixed on the water. “Why’d you start living a shut-in life?” I’d asked, driven by a quiet need to understand the weight she carried, the reasons behind her attachment to this secluded life.

“Why do you wanna know?” she murmured, her gaze unwavering.

“Hm… It’s like asking a club senior, ‘Why’d you join this club?’ Except this time, it’s to the teacher of depravity.” I tried to keep my tone light, but sincere.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she turned to me. “Like wanting to know more about someone you respect. But I guess it’s mostly just curiosity,” I added. I wasn’t trying to fix her or push her to change; I just wanted to know if there was something I could do, even a little, to ease whatever burdened her.

“Hahaha, you respect me?” she teased, a grin breaking through.

“Of course. You’re my teacher.”

“You respect school teachers too?”

“That’s… maybe not.”

“Yes, I win!” Her grin widened, innocent and bright.

“What kind of contest is this?” I shot back, smiling despite myself. The mood lightened, the tension easing like a breeze.

“Guess keeping secrets at this point’s kinda tough,” she said with a short sigh, her eyes dropping as if searching for where to begin. “I used to be… really busy.” Her voice was soft, almost blending with the river’s murmur.

I took a breath. “…Does it have anything to do with being an idol before?” I said it outright, hoping to show I already knew enough to let her speak freely without hiding her past.

Her eyes widened, her mouth opening in a flustered gasp. “W-Wait, you knew?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“N-No way… Did you catch me secretly turning off the TV with the remote that time?”

“That time?” I asked, not following.

“Y’know, the first time I cooked for you. I turned it off casually while clearing the table.”

“Oh, yeah, now that you mention it…” I recalled the moment. It was when a group that debuted from underground idols was about to perform on TV.

“Wait, was that idol group…?”

She nodded. “…The one I used to be part of.”

A shock ran through me. I hadn’t even noticed the hint back then, too clueless to connect the dots. “I didn’t know how I’d feel if we kept watching… So I turned it off, thinking I’d avoid it in front of you. But I wondered if that made you suspect something about the group.”

“Nah, not like that. Totally unrelated…” I shook my head quickly. Truth was, Yako-san had told me, but I didn’t want to get her in trouble. I felt a pang of guilt for the half-lie but gave a vague reason instead. “I just happened to see an old photo of Seven Little Elves, and there was someone who looked exactly like you…”

“Got it… People always notice, huh? I even changed my hairstyle and everything.” She scratched her cheek, a bit shy. Well, a beauty like Makura’s is rare…

“…You were kinda famous, huh?”

“Pretty much, somewhat, somehow… thanks to that,” Makura scratched her cheek, a bit shy.

“Ugh, so I got found out. Don’t go selling me to some tabloid, okay?”

“Like, Where Is That Legendary Idol Now!? No way I’d do that.”

“No, no! More like, Finally Discovered: Unidentified Creature UMA!”

“Treated like an actual rare monster!?” I retorted, and her bright “Ahahaha” filled the air, the vibe settling back to normal.

“So, that’s how you found out about my past,” she said, her tone softening.

“Yeah, that’s it. And, well… I wondered if being an idol had anything to do with how you live now.” I took a cautious step forward, watching her carefully.

Her gaze dropped to her dangling feet, her expression thoughtful. “…Yeah. It’s a trip, after all. And… I kinda want you to hear it, Manamichi-kun. ’Cause it’s a travel night.”

“…True, a travel night,” I echoed, catching the spark of something special in her words, the kind of openness that only comes on a night away.

“…It started with love,” she began, her voice quiet but steady.

“Love?”

“Yeah, love… I loved idols. I looked up to them. As a kid, I saw idols on TV and started dancing. I loved singing too, so I sang every day. I always wanted to be one.” Her words came slowly at first, then flowed smoother, like a dam breaking.

“I became an idol just before summer in my first year of middle school. Well, an underground idol, with an audition that barely counted. But I was thrilled when I got picked. It was a brand-new group, and I was pumped to make it famous. I was dead serious about working hard and giving it my all.”

“So that’s how it was,” I said, listening intently.

“Yeah. I got chosen as the center, started getting fans, and we even made a major debut. Every day was thrilling. At first, everything went so well… Well, it falling apart was my fault, though.”

I swallowed hard, bracing for what came next.

“To put it simply… our goal was to make it big, no matter what. So we had to please the adults and fans, always playing the ideal role they wanted. That was the producer’s rule, something we had to follow no matter what. Always smiling, always considerate, always molding ourselves to their expectations. As the center, I had to be perfect. The producer took me to greet all sorts of people, saying, ‘This guy likes this type,’ so I’d wear a long wig, a maid outfit, or a super short school skirt. I lived to be their ideal, drilled into me over and over.”

She glanced at me, her eyes searching. I opened my mouth, but no words came, only a silent ache for what she’d been through.

“Always smiling, always reading the room, becoming what they wanted. Even if I felt sick or off, they always came first. I’d become someone else to be liked, to be the center of a beloved idol group… That was the job, and I got paid for it. I knew it was tough, but…” Makura’s voice trailed off, a self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips.

“Living like that, one day, I lost track of who I really was. Every time I stood in front of someone, I felt like I was just acting for the moment. And I was. So where did the pre-idol me go? I started thinking… and I got tired.”

“…That sounds rough. Really harsh,” I said, my voice quiet, the weight of her words settling heavily.

“It was when underground idols were booming. We aimed to stand out the legit way—great songs from known artists, tons of practice, high-quality performance. The producer was desperate to build a fanbase with top-notch hospitality. So it’s my fault for not keeping up. It’s not like I’m playing a tragic heroine here.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, but I couldn’t help wondering if the producer’s relentless approach, exhausting a 14-year-old, was fair.

“By the second summer, I couldn’t take it and quit, half running away,” she continued, pausing to catch her breath. “Even after quitting, I couldn’t escape my idol past. I’d gotten pretty well-known… People would recognize me on the street. Even after retiring, I couldn’t escape Kamakura Koyuna.”

“What…?” I breathed, stunned.

“I was stuck as Kamakura Koyuna, still acting like an idol with everyone. It became second nature—always perfect, charming, careful not to disappoint. I forced myself to fit in, losing myself to please others. The moment I realized that, being in public terrified me. I started avoiding people.”

I thought back to when I delivered assignments, her sunflower-bright smile, how she called me by my first name right away, mixing polite and casual speech like she was testing the distance. Even with me, her idol habits had lingered.

“The festival earlier… Was that because you’re scared of attention?” I asked, piecing it together.

“Yeah… Sorry for the ugly scene. When it’s bad, I panic like that. I can handle one-on-one small talk if I keep up the act, but…” Her voice faltered, and the seriousness of her condition hit me hard.

I felt a pang of regret for suggesting streaming, putting her in front of an audience without knowing. “So… When I started high school, I wanted a fresh start somewhere no one knew me, a bit far from home. My mom suggested a school where relatives could support me, so I chose this one.”

“Relatives?”

“Yup. My cousin. You know her well—our teacher.”

“…Kumada-sensei?” I asked, incredulous.

“That’s right. Kumada-sensei’s my cousin, Satomi-chan.”

“No way!” The shock made pieces fall into place. Kumada-sensei always seemed to understand Makura’s situation, including her past. So she’d been worried about her… But why she sent me to deliver assignments still puzzled me.

“I moved to an apartment near Yako-chan, who I’ve been close with since we were kids. So I’d have help if I was alone,” Makura added.

“And then…”

Makura and Yako-san’s closeness made sense now. She’d called Yako-san her cousin’s friend, but they were tied through Kumada-sensei too. With someone she’d known forever nearby, Makura could relax. Plus, if word got out that ex-idol Kamakura Koyuna lived in that apartment, it’d be chaos. Having a trusted ally was smart for emergencies.

“I set up the perfect plan, started living alone, reset my environment… But school was still tough,” she said, her voice softening.

“Yeah…” My voice might’ve dropped, mirroring her mood. She tapped my shoulder lightly.

“Well, it’s old news now. I didn’t want that to end my life. Quitting idols gave me time, so I decided to do whatever I wanted, full-on. That’s where I’m at.”

“A shut-in life?”

“Yup! If I’m stuck at home, might as well enjoy my favorite things. I swore I wouldn’t let every day be boring. I had to… or I felt like I’d get crushed.” She looked up at the sky, her expression distant. “I’ve always loved fashion. Even as an idol, trying different outfits was fun. But after quitting, I got scared to wear what I liked. Dressing up draws attention… But pajamas, meant for home, felt safe. They calmed me. So I bought tons, started styling with pajamas.”

“That’s why you have so many,” I said, the connection clicking.

“Exactly! Dressing up boosts my mood. Starting depravity—no, pajama life—finally stabilized me. I used to take meds for a bit, but I’m okay without them now. Sleeping’s still tough, but I’m getting there. Though… deep down, I’m anxious. I know I can’t stay like this forever—”

She suddenly looked at me, her big eyes reflecting my wide-eyed face. “That’s when you showed up.”

“Me?”

“Yup, you. You forced your way through my door, didn’t you?” she teased.

“Guess I did…” I remembered getting pinched by her door—ouch—while trying to stop her from dodging assignment talk.

“Back then, I panicked when you saw me in pajamas, but you said something like, ‘Why care what others think? Wear what you want.’”

“I think I said that…”

“Those words hit me. I was kinda happy. Like the real me was okay.”

“R-Really? That’s good… No, seriously.” I hadn’t realized my offhand comment meant so much, but I was glad it did.

“So… I knew I had to face people’s eyes someday. I thought you might be okay to start with, so I dragged you into my room—my Fallen Cult. If I could get used to you, maybe I could handle people normally.” She stuck out her tongue, a playful apology. ‘Sorry, I made you my guinea pig!’

“And that’s it! That’s my story. Sorry it was long.” She clapped once, wrapping it up in her usual rhythm.

The mystery of her pajama life was finally clear. “…That’s how it was. It was tough, huh…”

“Well… a bit rough, maybe,” she said, her wry, bittersweet smile carrying the weight of her past.

“I’m really sorry for suggesting streaming…” I apologized again, guilt gnawing at me for putting her in a tough spot.

“No, it’s my fault for not explaining my past. I should’ve been clear when I refused. Sorry for making it weird.” She straightened, bowing slightly. I hurriedly bowed back, our heads nearly bumping.

Raising her face, she smiled again, lighter this time, as if sharing her story had lifted a small burden. The problem wasn’t solved, and nothing would change tomorrow, but her expression seemed somehow lighter.

The fireworks bloomed above, their vibrant bursts painting the night sky as Makura’s question pulled me from my thoughts. “Your turn, Manamichi-kun,” she said, her voice gentle but curious.

“M-Me…?” I stammered, caught off guard.

“Yup. I know you’re dealing with something too. I spilled a lot, so I wanna know more about you.” Her concern was clear, her eyes searching mine under the flickering lights.

I hesitated, my thoughts a jumble. It’s just me overthinking, probably something others would brush off. But for some reason, I wanted her to know. My fingers fidgeted with my phone, the screen showing 7:40 p.m. “You keep checking the time,” she noted, puzzled.

Before I could respond, a whoosh echoed over the sea, and the sky erupted in light, a pop shaking the air. “Wow!” Makura cheered, her face brightening.

“Oh!” I let out, startled. Second and third fireworks followed, their sparkling trails blooming into giant flowers against the dark.

“Amazing! So pretty! We can see them from here!” she exclaimed, tilting her head up.

“Incredible. This is a total hidden gem,” I said, the view close to the sea carrying plenty of impact despite not being front-row. We sat on the concrete wall, legs dangling, watching the bursts in silence for a while.

Midway, my gaze drifted to Makura’s profile. Her slightly teary eyes reflected the colorful lights, sparkling like they held the world’s most beautiful thing. I couldn’t look away, as if I were stealing a moment too precious to share.

The big volleys paused, and Makura sighed, turning to me. “What’s up? You’re all quiet. Wanna bet what you’re thinking?”

“You can guess?”

“Yup. Probably, ‘How many meters wide are those fireworks?’”

“What size shot, huh? No way to figure that without more data. I could easily get the distance to the launch site, but without knowing the elevation difference between there and us… And the angle’s an issue too. If I had that, it’d be simple trigonometry—”

“…Can you speak Japanese?” she cut in, laughing.

“It was all Japanese,” I retorted, her “Haha” easing the tension as the fireworks resumed. I took a small breath, my eyes on the sky, and began slowly. “I… was jealous of you, Makura.”

“Me…?” She pointed at herself, her voice shaky with surprise.

“Even with all your hardships, you carry them and live now to the fullest, right? I could never do that…”

Her struggles as an idol, the way she’d embraced her pajama life despite it all, shone so brightly to me. Drawn to her strength, I’d skipped make-up classes this summer to try a lazy life with her, hoping to find some of that freedom.

“I’ve been chained to studying forever,” I admitted, feeling her eyes widen beside me.

“That’s…”

“Since I was little, my mom forced me to study. She’s got this… academic inferiority complex.” My mom was a bit weird, always competitive, always insecure. My maternal grandfather was a doctor, my grandmother ran a company—an elite family by most standards. Mom and her two sisters got gifted education, but she was the least accomplished, the youngest who didn’t measure up.

“I don’t sense any urgency in you. Probably because you’re an only child…” she’d said once, likely a reflection of being compared to her sisters. They both got into top national universities straight out of high school; Mom settled for a lower-tier private women’s college after a year of cramming. I’d seen her bite her lip when her sisters talked about their uni days.

My dad, a city councilor, was always “busy,” rarely home. Online, he seemed proud of his work, but at home, he avoided mentioning it. Her sisters’ husbands—a congressman and a corporate exec—made Mom feel inferior about Dad too. He knew, so he kept quiet. Why’d she marry him? They were young, maybe in love at first. But when that faded, Mom turned to a new pawn: me.

I laid it out for Makura, step by step. “Wow… That’s, uh, something…” she said, her voice soft.

“Sorry, tough to comment on, huh?” I just wanted her to know the facts. Some of Mom’s feelings were my guesses, but years of watching her made me confident I was right.

“No, that’s fine… So what happened?” she asked.

“Mom pinned her hopes on me to show up her relatives and friends. She forced me to study from a young age.” Skill-building classes, right-brain training, then cram school and tutors seven days a week by elementary school. No free time, no friends, no games or manga—TV shows and SNS were out of the question. “Back then, I thought it was normal. After class, I’d do cram school or tutor homework late into the night, collapsing into bed. I always felt like something was chasing me. But in middle school, I started having moments to think—waiting at cram school, walking home. I began wondering why I was doing all this.”

Why was everyone else living carefree, fun lives while I was stuck? Resentment festered, and studying started feeling pointless. “But…” I hesitated, and Makura’s soft “Mhm” nudged me forward.

“I thought about it, but if I quit studying, I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted to do. No, not just that—I couldn’t even figure out how to fill the empty time with something else. I had no idea what to do. I’d only ever studied in my life…” My voice trailed off, the weight of those years pressing down. In my second year of middle school, I’d once ditched the cram school study room, thinking I’d taste freedom. But with no destination or purpose, I ended up on a park bench, my mind replaying math problems and vocab from the day before. In the end, I slunk back to the classroom early, long before the evening class began. “There was nothing. I had nothing…”

“That’s……”

Makura shook her head gently. “Studying’s amazing, though. Maybe it’s not your thing, but… that brain can do anything.”

“That’s not true. It doesn’t work out that way,” I said, my tone bitter. “Like when we tried to make money at home, all I could think of was you streaming. Studying all the time doesn’t earn a single yen.” But her words from earlier, calling my horizon talk interesting, had made studying feel worthwhile for once. Still, that was the extent of it. I was just grinding for college with no clue what I wanted there—pointless. “Play or whatever—having something you love and throwing yourself into it is a hundred times more meaningful. I didn’t realize that for so long.”

Even after I did, I couldn’t break free. Cram school was absolute. I’d skip the study room sometimes, but never the evening lectures. In middle school, I dropped tutors for a famous cram school with big-name instructors who’d published stacks of textbooks. As long as I attended, studying was no worry—just self-study for top schools at my own pace. Mom trusted the cram school blindly, and her faith rubbed off on me. “Isn’t it almost time for cram school?” “Take every special weekend lecture.” “Always get into the top class. With the highest scores, obviously.” She nagged constantly. To prioritize cram school, she let me attend a decent but not ultra-elite high school. Even during this decadent summer, I skipped make-up classes but never missed evening lectures.

I laid it all out for Makura, step by step. “So at first, I was jealous. A girl going all-in on what she loves. But learning she had struggles too—and still lives fully now, carrying them—that jealousy turned to admiration. As for me, even while messing around with this whole ‘depravity’ thing together, my heart was still bound up tight.”

Her invite to depravity had sent a shiver through me, a spark of hope that something could change. I took her up on it, and it was the right call—the funnest summer of my life. I was truly grateful to her. But deep down, part of me remained stuck, wondering if I’d never change at my core. So last night, I made a resolve and invited her on this trip.

“Got it. So that’s how it was. You’ve been through a lot,” Makura said softly after I fell quiet.

“Thanks for telling me so much.”

“No, thank you for sharing and listening,” I replied. I’d spilled a lot, and as the fireworks neared their end, a colorful starmine finale burst across the sky.

“So pretty,” she murmured.

“Yeah…” The night breeze from the sea felt soothing, and I wished this moment could last forever—a cliché, but a first for me.

I glanced at my phone, then at Makura’s profile, her eyes narrowed at the fireworks. Swallowing, I spoke. “…I’m skipping cram school class for the first time today.”

Her “Eh?” came with a quick turn, our eyes locking. “You had class today?”

“Yup.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’m skipping. Well, class starts in ten minutes. No way I’m getting back in time.”

“…Were you checking the time because…?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t help it.” The looming class time had nagged at me during the festival, despite my efforts to ignore it. When I saw the schedule, I nearly ruled out this festival. But I stopped myself, bit my lip, and thought hard. Skipping cram school was unthinkable, a routine etched into me. But seeing Makura forge her path despite her struggles made me want that too. I’d been searching for a trigger to break free, and she’d shown me that one step could brighten my life. “So, skipping’s a done deal.”

Makura grinned mischievously. “Yup, that’s it.”

“Ahaha, you’re bad.”

“Total delinquent, right?” I said, meeting her raised hand for a high-five.

“Big step for you, huh? Like you’re finally soaring free? Awesome!”

“Thanks. It was all because of you.”

“That’s not true! I should be thanking you. You showing up proved I can still open up to people. Plus, my summer break, which was supposed to be all about solo debauchery, ended up being insanely fun!” A massive firework bloomed, golden weeping willows tracing glowing lines across the black sky. Cheers and applause roared from the dock—the finale.

Lingering light fragments drifted, flickered, and vanished. A pang of reluctance tightened my chest. I didn’t want it to end.

“Wait, doesn’t skipping class without notice get reported to your parents?” Makura asked, shifting her gaze from the sky.

“Yeah. No telling when they’ll find out… Maybe a call, but they won’t drag me back from here.”

“Still, you might get chewed out later, right?”

“Well, yeah…” I’d come prepared for that. No problem.

Makura puffed her cheeks slightly, her gaze dropping as she mulled something over. “You’re skipping class to take a step, to shake off those chains, right?” she asked, her voice soft but probing.

“Hm? Yeah,” I replied, nodding.

“Or… are you skipping to flaunt it to your parents, like throwing down a challenge?”

“Flaunt it…?” I paused, turning the thought over. I skipped cram school, ha! You forced me to study, controlled me, but that ends today. Declaring that to Mom might feel satisfying, but it wasn’t my plan. Escaping the suffocating grip of studying was enough. Skipping make-up classes, ditching the study room for Makura’s place—those were steps toward freedom. Skipping class now felt like another push to change something inside me. I wasn’t trying to confront Mom, just hoping to slip by unnoticed, as always.

I explained as much, and Makura murmured, “Got it.” She pulled out her phone, her fingers tapping the screen swiftly. “Your cram school’s this one, right?” she said, showing me a search result.

“Yeah… What’re you doing?” I asked, a mix of curiosity and unease stirring.

“Heh heh heh. Stop me if it’s a bad idea.” With a sly smirk, she tapped again, then put the phone to her ear.

I realized what she was up to—and why she’d asked about my reasons for skipping. The call connected quickly, and she spoke, her voice lower, not quite Mom’s but confident and natural, her idol knack for acting shining through. “Hello, this is Negoro Manamichi’s mother. Yes. He’s sick and will miss class today. Yes. Thank you—”

I’d never missed class before, so the staff wouldn’t know Mom’s voice—no chance of getting caught. She lowered the phone, spinning to me with a smug grin. “Now our night won’t be interrupted, right?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s… really awesome.”

Our time together could keep going, unbroken. The thought sent a restless thrill through me, fresh and exhilarating. Wanting to hold onto this night’s vibe forever, I took a deep breath, the sea breeze cool against my skin.