Chapter 10: Kuroki You × Toudou Mashiro = ?

After school, I climb the stairs to the rooftop, taking care to soften my footsteps. Yet, she seems to sense my approach, swiveling her chair to face the stairs directly.

As I ascend, the view gradually widens, and the first thing I notice is her legs. Does she even realize? Shoes and socks cover the soles, but skirts offer no such protection. I quickly avert my gaze, wondering why I’m the one who has to be mindful. It feels like an excuse, and I know it.

In the distance, the shouts of the sports clubs echo faintly.

Though the sun blazes brightly, this narrow corner of the rooftop feels dimmer, almost like the secret hideout I dreamed of as a child. Toudou Mashiro, as if eagerly awaiting my arrival, beckons me closer with a wave.

“I’ve been waiting, Kuroki-kun. Hurry up, let’s do it.”

“…Yeah, yeah,” I grumble, feigning annoyance. But deep down, I suspect I’m the one savoring these moments the most.

Several days have passed since that lunch break I secretly named the “Coppé Pan One-Tear Incident.”

Since that day, Toudou and I have been gaming together every afternoon, on the stair landing after school. It’s the only place for our little two-person party.

Playing with Toudou has brought two surprises. First, her game sense is shockingly sharp. Initially, her character control was like some wild, chaotic dance, but her improvement was lightning-fast. When I praised her, marveling at her progress, she flashed a smug grin. “Right? I can’t play games at home, so I study videos instead!”

The second surprise caught me off guard.

“There’s ammo over here.”

“Ooh! Thanks~”

Or this.

“Here. Healing.”

“Heh heh. I haven’t taken any damage yet, so I’ve got extras. No need.”

And even this.

“Toudou-sama… could you maybe share some potions with me…?”

“Oh my. To think the day would come when I’d save Kuroki-kun.”

Somehow, I’ve started having real conversations with Toudou. I thought we’d been talking before, but this—this was different, a leap forward. The gap in our skills hasn’t closed, not by a long shot, but for me, this unexpected connection is a happy miscalculation.

Time slips away in a blur. The light filtering onto the stair landing glows a soft red.

“Whew~ We really gamed hard today!” Toudou Mashiro exclaims, stretching languidly like a cat, mimicking a pose straight out of a soft drink commercial. From outside, the sharp crack of a baseball bat meeting a ball rings out, while the wind carries faint, muffled notes from the brass band’s warm-up, like sounds heard through a thin membrane.

Unconsciously, my gaze lingers on Toudou, as if watching scenery blur past a train window.

“…Kuroki-kun. You shouldn’t stare at certain places like that,” she says, her half-lidded glare catching me off guard. Her cheeks seem faintly flushed. Did I upset her again?

“Sorry.”

“You apologize so quickly,” she teases, a soft giggle escaping her lips. I’m not sure if she’s laughing at me or with me, but it doesn’t matter.

Over the past few days, I’ve learned something: flimsy excuses don’t work on Toudou. Being straightforward keeps her in a better mood.

“So, why were you staring, Kuroki-kun?” she presses, not letting me off the hook.

I bow my head, half-wishing I had a white flag to wave. “I saw your commercial online the other day.”

“Huh…?” Toudou’s voice falters, caught off guard.

“That video and the pose you just did—they looked like the same angle. That’s all I noticed.”

“……You watched it?”

“? Watched what?”

While I was talking, Toudou slowly lowers her face. Now I can’t see her expression.

“You watched the CM?”

“Uh, yeah, I did, but…?” I trail off, feeling an inexplicable pressure. It’s as if I can see ominous sound effects—like “Gogogogo”—looming behind her.

“So, you searched for it?” she continues.

“Huh?”

“You searched for my videos?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why, you say…” I echo, flustered. It’s not like it’s a crime, but her intensity throws me off. “I mean, it’s not the latest one. Digging up old footage isn’t something you’d do without some interest, right?”

As I fumble for words, Toudou lifts her face, her expression softening. “I’m not mad… I just thought, maybe Kuroki-kun’s interested in me?”

To avoid any misunderstanding, I decide to be honest. “As a gaming buddy, yeah, I’m interested. But it’s not like I like you or I’m a fan or anything, so don’t worry.”

I don’t want her to get the wrong idea and feel uncomfortable.

“Huh? Like…? Fan…?” Toudou’s shoulders jolt, her reaction so sudden it throws me off balance too.

“Uh, no, no deep meaning!” I rush to clarify.

“I-I get it! That kinda thing would be a nuisance anyway!”

“Nuisance…” I repeat, wincing. Does she think I’m some kind of stalker?

“Ah, sorry, sorry! Wrong word! So don’t make that face like you’re about to cry.”

“I’m not…”

I’m not, right……?

“I deal with a lot at school too, it’s when I think someone’s a friend and I talk to them, but then it turns into something… different, you know?”

I understood instantly. I’ve seen it in manga, but I didn’t think it happened in real life—guess that’s my inexperience talking. People thinking they’re friends, only to get confessed to or invited somewhere alone. With someone like Toudou, with her looks and presence, it makes sense.

“Yeah, with you, Toudou, that makes sense.”

“Because of that, I can’t just casually swap contacts, or I’d come off as too forward. But if I don’t, I seem cold and distant. Even a simple hello or someone striking up a conversation makes me wary.”

“That sounds tough.”

In my heart, I truly sympathize for her. Being a loner like me had its perks, it seemed—not that I was sure if that was a good thing or not. Toudou’s shoulders suddenly eased, as if a weight had slipped off them.

“That’s why I’m grateful to you, Kuroki-kun,” she said warmly.

Her words caught me off guard, the flow of our conversation veering into unexpected territory. I blinked, puzzled. “…? Because I’m harmless?”

Toudou let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “More like, our connection started because I was the one who messed up. Knowing the fault’s on my side—it’s reassuring, you know?”

“Think you’re being clever?”

The broken smartphone flashed in my mind. Perpetrator: Toudou Mashiro. Victim: Kuroki You. Was that really how it went?

“Kidding, kidding,” she said quickly, her tone playful as she waved off my suspicion. “You see—” Her voice softened, steering the conversation somewhere I hadn’t anticipated. “This might be the first time I’ve made a friend purely because of a shared hobby. It’s a connection I chose entirely for myself.”

Her words hung in the air, simple yet sincere. Regardless of gender, someone whose gaming tastes aligned so perfectly with mine just happened to be her.

Maybe—for me, too—this is a first.

＊

Toudou’s words sounded like she’s talking to herself.

“I’ve got my own stuff going on too, I ended up in the entertainment world, but I got tired of it. My mom was an actress, so she probably wants her daughter to follow in her footsteps.”

“I see…” I replied, not fully grasping her situation. She didn’t seem opposed to it, so it must be something she consented to—a goal, perhaps, rather than a dream.

“And you know, at my house, video games are basically banned. Especially the violent ones—shooting, blood, punching, all that. Even violent movies are off-limits.”

“I can’t say I don’t get that perspective,” I admitted. I couldn’t relate personally, but when I thought of Akane playing games with unregulated gore or violence, a protective brotherly instinct kicked in, making me a bit uneasy.

Toudou pursed her lips, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. “But on video sites, when recommendations pop up, I can’t help but watch them. Like playthroughs and stuff.”

“Yeah, totally. You click one before bed, and if it’s fun, you’re sleep-deprived by morning.”

“Right?” Her eyes lit up, a spark of excitement breaking through. It was clear she’d been starving for someone to share this with, her enthusiasm almost tangible.

“Watching those makes you wanna play, doesn’t it? But I can’t at home… Well, it’s not impossible, but if I get caught, it’s game over.”

“So that’s why you were playing at school after hours.”

Toudou nodded, her gaze meeting mine. “Even playing alone, though, there were so many things I didn’t understand. It felt kinda unsatisfying, so I quit for a while.”

Her words carried a quiet sincerity, and I sensed she was opening up, perhaps feeling a shared understanding. She continued, “That’s why when I saw Kuroki-kun’s smartphone screen, I thought, ‘Oh, there’s someone seriously playing games at school. I wanna play together; maybe he can teach me.’ But I figured if I wasn’t at least a bit better, you’d turn me down.”

Hearing that far, I was surprised. “So I was the reason you started playing smartphone games again?”

“Yep.” Toudou puffed out her chest proudly, oblivious to the way the buttons on her shirt strained slightly, revealing a sliver of space. She was sharp about so many things, yet completely unguarded in moments like this. I forced my eyes to stay on her face, willing my mouth to keep moving.

“It’s a shame you finally found something you love, but you can’t play because of your home situation.”

It felt almost tragic, like something out of Romeo and Juliet.

“Yeah, Mashiro-onee-san has it tough.”

“We’re the same age, you know.”

“Ehen.” Toudou puffed out her chest again, and I swore I caught a glimpse of a faint floral pattern beneath her shirt. I resolved to ignore it completely, focusing on the conversation instead.

“Well… um, you know,” I started, rubbing the back of my neck and sitting up straighter, feeling a bit awkward. “I don’t know exactly how you feel about games, Toudou, but if you—”

“—I don’t like ‘you.’ Call me ‘Mashiro-chan’ or ‘Maa-chan,’ okay?”

Ignoring her quip, I pressed on. “I get that Toudou Mashiro-nee-san really loves games. So if there’s anything I can do to help, just say it. I’m not exactly sociable, though.”

“I know.”

“…And, uh, I don’t have money, or talent, or charm, either.”

“You don’t have to go that far,” she said, her eyes softening with a hint of pity. “I’m sure there’s something. Cheer up.”

“Ugh,” I muttered, feeling the weight of her sympathetic gaze. But I pushed forward. “If there’s anything I can help with, I’ll do it. For games, even I—”

Mid-sentence, it hit me. I’d been lying to myself, saying I had nothing. Sure, I might’ve given up on mastering games at some point, but I still played them every day. That part of me—the passionate side that refused to let go—was screaming. Games were my spark, my constant.

So, from the heart, I spoke with quiet confidence.

“If it’s about games, I think I can help,” I said, my voice steadying with conviction. “Spending time on it is no problem. I like games, after all. We can play for hours.”

It was true. I loved games. Somewhere along the way, I’d convinced myself I was only chasing strength, but Toudou’s words had stripped it all back to the core. Games were fun—plain and simple. She’d reminded me of that spark, the joy I’d almost forgotten.

“Ooh…” Toudou’s gaze fixed on me, wide-eyed, as if I were some peculiar work of art. Her ash-blonde hair framed her pale face, her well-shaped brows arching over large eyes with dark pupils, her pink lips parting slightly as she spoke.

“Then, just one thing… will you help me…?”

“Huh?”

Suddenly, the atmosphere turned moist. Toudou’s eyes glistened, as if on the verge of tears. She leaned in closer, biting her lip just enough to make it noticeable, and murmured, “Can I come over to Kuroki-kun’s room and use your gaming PC…?”

In other words, she wanted to come to my place, my room. My room.

“That’s impossible…” I blurted out, my brain short-circuiting.

“Eeh!? Kuroki-kun, you liar! You said you’d help! Help meee!”

“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant! Anyway, how does letting you play games count as helping?”

“For my stress relief?”

“Don’t relieve stress at someone else’s house!”

“It’s not someone else’s, it’s Kuroki-kun’s room,” she countered, her tone teasing.

“Same thing!”

“Ah, I get it. If it’s money, I’ll pay. For the electricity.”

“That’s not it,” I groaned, rubbing my temples.

“No way… You mean I need to pay with my body…?”

“I’m done…”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I swore I heard a faint ding—like a level-up sound from a game. But, of course, it was just my imagination.