Chapter 7: Continuous Events in Progress

The next morning.

A gentle breeze slipped into my room as I flung open the window in one swift motion. Sparrows chirped sweetly outside, their delicate trills clashing with the restless unease stirring in my chest.

After splashing my face with cool water, I slipped on my sandals and made my way downstairs. Stepping outside briefly, I descended the stairs and pushed open the unlocked front door, kicking off my shoes as I entered. In the living room, I found Akane, still in her pre-school morning haze, sluggishly picking at her breakfast alone.

Her usually round, squirrel-like eyes were narrowed to mere slits, betraying a night spent streaming until the early hours. Sleep deprivation had clearly taken its toll.

I slid into my seat, spreading peanut cream across a slice of soft bread. “Akane,” I said, glancing at her. “How late were you gaming last night?”

“Nnh? Around two.”

Oi, oi. Two in the morning? I’d love to see Mom and Dad’s faces right now. By the way, since she’s a minor, streaming is only until ten PM.

“A third-year middle schooler gaming until two? You’re not gonna grow any taller at this rate.”

“Uwaa, bro’s dishing out moral harassment first thing in the morning. Just ’cause Akane-chan’s small doesn’t mean she’ll stay small forever.”

I nearly choked on my milk, barely managing to keep it down. “Idiot,” I shot back. “You’re in compulsory education. Study.”

“Nii-nii’s got bags under his eyes too. Didn’t sleep much either, did you?”

“…Compulsory education’s over for me, so I’m fine.”

“Hmmmm” Akane dragged out the word, clearly unconvinced, before taking another disinterested bite of her bread.

The living room fell silent, the absence of conversation left only faint sounds of chewing. Our parents were likely still asleep, I figured, casting a glance toward their bedroom. “With parents like ours,” I said, half to myself, “it’s no wonder the kids turn out this way.”

Akane gave a small nod, her expression mirroring my own quiet resignation.

“Yeah, that’s right. I wish you’d just blame Mom and Dad’s genes for it.”

Our dad’s a novelist, and Mom writes picture books. Dad hit it big first, but Mom’s books have sold more copies overall—a fact that’s the ultimate taboo in the Kuroki household.

“True, kids do grow up watching their parents’ backs.”

I took a sip of milk, the cool liquid settling my thoughts.

Akane swallowed a bite of her bread and tossed out, all casual, “So, Nii-ni, you got a date with your girlfriend or what?”

“Bfft!”

Milk sprayed from my mouth, splattering across the table.

“Gross! What’s wrong with you, Nii-ni!” Akane yelped, grabbing a cloth to wipe the mess.

I shot back, voice sharp, “It’s because you said something totally out of left field!”

“But you’ve been acting off since yesterday,” she said, undeterred. “One minute you’re zoning out, the next you’re muttering to yourself, tilting your head like you’re solving a puzzle, or scratching your hair like a maniac.”

That… did sound pretty weird. Thinking back, ever since school yesterday, my head’s been in a fog, memories all blurry.

“Was I really that strange? Like, different from usual?”

“You’re always weird, so that question’s already half wrong.”

“Ouch, really?”

This little sister of mine—her tongue’s way too sharp. Big brother’s about to cry here.

“You’re weird all the time, sure,” she continued, relentless. “But yesterday? You were extra weird.”

“How so?” I pressed, needing to know for future reference.

Akane leaned in, her expression all-knowing. “Yesterday, when you washed your face, you checked yourself in the mirror, right? And you fixed your hair real quick. Just now, too, when you passed the mirror, you glanced at your face. Akane-chan notices these things, you know. Like, ‘Oh, he’s fussing over his looks. Gotta be a girl, huh?’”

She puffed out her chest, all smug and exaggerated, as if she’d cracked some grand mystery.

It wasn’t the usual morning—but after finishing the conversation with Akane, the unchanged high school life began.

Akane had seen through a lot, but that’s because she’s family. My classmates surely wouldn’t point it out. But what if they suspected something? Would it bother Toudou…… My mind churned with restless thoughts, and before I realized it, the school day had slipped away.

Whatever the reason, it was the awaited meeting time. Yet, I couldn’t stand up from my seat right away. I became overly conscious of the surrounding gazes. It felt like I was the center of the world.

The fact of meeting a girl inside the school turned out to mentally disrupt me more than imagined.

In the end, I dragged myself to the stair landing twenty minutes after the final bell, my nerves still buzzing.

It wasn’t late. We hadn’t pinned down an exact time—just a casual “meet after school!” and that was it.

Still, I climbed the stairs with a faint pang of guilt. Step by step, softly, my footsteps blending into the hum of after-school chatter echoing around me.

At the stair landing, the moment the chairs and table legs came into view, I froze.

There was Toudou Mashiro. Her uniform loosened, tie slack, she slumped over a desk, sprawled out in a chair.

“Suu, suu…”

I edged closer, but she didn’t stir. No matter how you looked at it, she was fast asleep.

She looked so at ease. A pink towel lay spread on the desk, her cheek pressed against it, soft breaths escaping. The dusty stair landing transformed, as if a corner of a castle had been claimed by this breathtakingly beautiful girl’s nap.

I couldn’t take another step.

My eyes caught everything—too much, maybe. The way her short skirt rode up, a touch higher than it should. Her chest, pressed boldly against the desk. Her lips, slightly parted, letting out faint breaths. Was I doing something wrong just standing here?

No. Calm down.

“She’s just a classmate napping. No big deal…” I muttered, trying to convince myself.

But why was my heart hammering like this?

A few minutes passed before I could steady my breathing.

This was my fault—Toudou sleeping so soundly. She must’ve been waiting, only to give in to exhaustion. Unlike me, she’s probably swamped every day, barely scraping by on sleep.

Still, though.

“Her sleeping pose is way too defenseless…”

Toudou’s slumber left her wide open, and vulnerable. It wouldn’t be odd for someone to sneak a photo. Should I warn her when she wakes? No, that’d probably backfire—dig my own grave. Better not.

Glancing around, I noticed her things scattered across the desk. A pen here, a notebook there—she must’ve been fighting sleep, trying to stay occupied while waiting.

“Toudou was waiting for me, and I didn’t even hurry over…”

Ugh, pathetic. I’m the one who should’ve been waiting for her.

I tilted my head back, staring at the dim ceiling. The landing was poorly lit—couldn’t risk flipping on the fluorescent light and getting caught. A beam of sunlight stretched through the window, catching specks of dust in the air, making them shimmer. It glinted off Toudou Mashiro’s ash-blonde hair, too, giving it a soft glow.

She shifted slightly.

“Nn… munya…”

Munya? First time I’ve heard anyone make that sound…

A faint rustle caught my ear—a pink memo slipping off the desk. Before the breeze could carry it away, I snatched it up. My eyes fell on the writing, unbidden, catching words I wasn’t meant to see.

‘Important things! Know the character’s traits! Know the weapon’s traits! Don’t charge in alone! Look around! Grasp the enemy’s position! Don’t cry if you lose, have fun, no regrets! (A deformed rabbit? A face with quirks?)’

“The last one’s a lie, though…”

It’s a basic mindset, but its simplicity makes it the most crucial. Master these, and you’ve shed your beginner status.

She must’ve been studying—pouring over strategy sites or beginner videos. Even without knowing all the answers or end goals, Toudou probably dove into her research with genuine enjoyment.

I… left those feelings behind somewhere.

To have fun. More. Fiercely.

I used to play games chasing that spark—no, wanting to chase it, perhaps. Now, I’m just drifting, playing aimlessly with no dreams or goals to anchor me.

Toudou shifted again, her ash-blonde hair fanning out across the desk like delicate threads.

“Kuu… pii…”

How many variations of sleeping breaths does she have?

I should wake her, but that memo… she was probably up late researching again. With no chance to game at home, she’s been cramming knowledge instead.

“I’ll let her sleep a bit longer…”

Before the ever-locked door to the rooftop’s open sky, I glanced at the small window, its frame cutting out a patch of blue.

The world felt narrow, but that blue—it shone so brightly.