Chapter 1 | “I Am Mizuki Rinka”

“As expected, Mizuki-san is so beautiful and cute, isn’t she?”

After dinner, I sprawled lazily on my bed in my second-floor room, engrossed in a Star☆Mines music video on my smartphone. The massively popular idol group had captured the public’s attention, their five members—all adorable high school girls—shining brightly. But my eyes were fixed solely on Mizuki Rinka, the cool-type idol whose presence stole the spotlight. Truth be told, I wasn’t just a fan of Star☆Mines; I was her fan, utterly captivated. The reason was almost laughably simple: we shared the same class.

Her striking looks, composed demeanor, and overwhelming aura had seized my heart from the moment I saw her. Thinking back, that was probably the first time I truly understood what an idol was. Before meeting Mizuki-san in person, I had zero interest in idols. But in the classroom, her coolness—bordering on a faint chill—set her apart. Her sharp expression and serious air kept some classmates at a distance. Even so, her beauty made her terrifyingly popular among the boys, though she never fueled romantic rumors or even held casual conversations with male classmates. Whispers began to circulate: did she dislike guys?

Yet, she wasn’t particularly close with the girls either. To put it bluntly, Mizuki-san seemed somewhat isolated in the classroom, her extraordinary aura setting her apart from us ordinary students. Even I, often called the guy who can’t read the room, could only watch her from the corner of the classroom, too nervous to approach. The tense, almost prickly atmosphere she exuded made her difficult to talk to.

“Still, I’d at least like to greet her,” I muttered. “I want to hear her say ‘good morning’ in that beautiful voice…”

Mizuki-san’s singing voice, widely regarded as the best in the group, never failed to make my heart tremble. “I’ll muster the courage to greet her tomorrow morning…!” I vowed, yearning to at least become a classmate who could exchange simple hellos. But weeks had passed since I first made that promise, and my cowardice held me back. “An online game addict like me has no chance of getting close to Mizuki-san, huh,” I sighed, self-deprecation creeping in.

Just then, my smartphone pinged with a notification from the gaming chat app. The sender was [Rin]. “I’m online~,” her message read.

“Oh, it’s already that time?” I glanced at the clock: 9:04 p.m. Our meetup was scheduled for 9:00, so I was a bit late, too absorbed in Mizuki-san’s video to remember my promise with my online game friend. “Sorry. I’ll log in right away,” I typed back.

Sitting at my computer, I launched Black Plains, an MMO with stunningly realistic graphics and an open world that allowed for everything from battles to everyday roleplay. My player name, [Kaz], came from the first two characters of my real name, Ayanokoji Kazuto. As soon as I logged in, a chat from Rin popped up.

“I was waiting for you~ It’s been a while, huh?”

“A while? Didn’t we play together last Sunday?”

“Then it’s been a whole week! I’ve been looking forward to gaming with you all this time!”

“Is that so? I’ve been looking forward to it too.”

“Really?! But I was definitely looking forward to it more! That’s for sure!”

“What kind of competition is this…?”

“Hmm. If I had to say, it’s a competition of love between husband and wife!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rin’s energy was as infectious as ever. A blonde elf in-game, she’d been my online friend since my second year of middle school—four years now, as I was in my second year of high school. We knew nothing about each other’s real lives, but I’d call us online best friends. No, perhaps more—two years ago, we got married in-game, making us virtual husband and wife.

Rin’s open-hearted interactions had become a constant in my gaming life, and I couldn’t imagine playing without her. We first met when we were randomly teamed up in a dungeon. Back then, Rin was a beginner, and I, with some experience, taught her the ropes. Now, we were equals—or rather, partners in this virtual world. [T/N: Black Plains is noted for its non-toxic community.]

“What do we do today? I’m kinda in the mood for fishing~,” Rin chimed.

“I want to go to the mines and do some digging.”

“What do we do today? I’m kinda in the mood for fishing~,” she repeated.

“Are you a bot or something!? My request isn’t getting through!”

“We’re going fishing.”

“That’s just forcing it!” I thought, holding back a laugh. Asking “What do we do?” only to push her own idea was classic Rin. Our playful banter felt as natural as ever, our hearts open despite knowing nothing of each other’s real-world lives.

“I wonder what the real Rin is like,” I mused aloud. I’d once brought up real-life topics, but Rin had shut it down, saying, “If real-life details get involved, our pure relationship will fall apart.” I understood her point. In an extreme case, if Rin were, say, a hardcore yakuza, I’d uninstall Black Plains and smash my computer. But whoever she was—yakuza or not—didn’t matter as long as we had fun together. That was what counted.

“Hey, Kaz. Let’s go out to sea on my boat!”

“No way, it’ll sink.”

“Why would you say that!? It’ll definitely be fine!”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that. And I always end up gathering materials to repair it.”

“This time it’ll be fine! I watched a video on how to handle a boat properly!”

On-screen, Rin’s cute elf avatar struck a confident pose, fist clenched. It was oddly endearing. “I’m seriously counting on you, okay? Repairing a boat is a huge hassle,” I teased.

“Leave it to me! I feel like I can do anything right now!”

Following Rin’s brimming confidence, we set sail on her boat, slightly larger than a dinghy. We had to stay close to land to avoid pirate ships. Stopping midway, we cast our fishing lines, chatting as we waited for a bite—the best part of fishing in Black Plains.

“Hey, Kaz. I haven’t heard your apology for being late yet.”

“Sorry.”

“Why were you late?”

“I was watching an idol’s music video.”

“Oh? So you’re into idols, Kaz?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

A few seconds of silence followed. I stared at the fishing line dangling into the virtual sea. Rin’s line remained still, no fish in sight.

“What’s the idol’s name?”

“Isn’t talking about real life off-limits?”

“This time’s an exception. Tell me.”

Her insistence caught me off guard. “It’s a group called Star☆Mines. Know them?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m a fan of Mizuki Rinka.”

“I see.”

“And she’s my classmate. Pretty cool, right?” I added, a hint of pride in my tone.

No reply came. One minute, two, three—the silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable. Rin’s fishing rod twitched, signaling a bite, but she didn’t move to reel it in. Was she ignoring it? At this timing? My stomach sank. Had I said something wrong? Bragging about Mizuki-san being my classmate might’ve been a mistake.

“Sorry, Rin. I got carried away and said too much. If I upset you, I’m sorry,” I typed, my hand sweating as I gripped the mouse, awaiting her response.

As the fish escaped her rod, a message finally appeared. “I am Mizuki Rinka.”

…Huh?

“Haha, what are you suddenly saying? I can tell that’s a lie.”

“Class 2-3. Our homeroom teacher is Sato-sensei. My seat is in the second column from the window, front row.”

The text calmly laid out details about Mizuki Rinka—details that were spot-on. No way. It could be another classmate, though. “Who are you, Kaz?” she asked.

What should I do? Should I tell her? Rin wouldn’t lie, would she? If she was telling the truth, then Rin was Mizuki-san. “You don’t believe me?” she pressed, and a pang of guilt hit me.

To show my trust, I typed, “I’m the guy sitting in the window column, very back seat.”

Her reply was instant. “Ayanokoji Kazuto-kun, right?”

“…Correct.”

This made it highly likely Rin was a classmate, even if not Mizuki-san. “Sorry, I’m logging off,” she said.

“Got it.”

Rin vanished from the boat. Did she figure out it was me and feel disappointed? If so, that stung. I shouldn’t have brought up real life. She’d warned that it could ruin our relationship, and I hadn’t taken it seriously enough. “I messed up…” I muttered, dreading the thought of losing Rin as a gaming partner. It’d be devastating.

As I clutched my head in regret, my smartphone pinged again. It was Rin on the gaming chat app: “Want to go to the cafeteria together during lunch tomorrow?” My fingers trembled as I typed, “Yes.”

If this was really Mizuki-san, that was beyond insane. No, calm down. Rin couldn’t be Mizuki-san. Their personalities were worlds apart—Rin’s cheerful innocence clashed with Mizuki Rinka’s cool, reserved demeanor. It had to be a prank, probably a classmate teasing me.

Another message arrived from Rin, titled “I’ll prove I’m the real deal.” Opening it, I saw a selfie of Mizuki-san with a computer screen in the background. An image search yielded no hits—it wasn’t pulled from the internet. “S-Seriously? Is this… for real?!” My hand shook as I gripped the phone. This didn’t feel real. “My online game wife… was a popular idol?!”

☆

The next morning, the classroom buzzed with chatter. Sitting alone at my desk by the window, my heart hadn’t stopped pounding since last night. From my spot in the back, I scanned the room—girls chatting happily, athletic guys joking around. My gaze settled on Mizuki-san’s back in the front row, her posture perfect as she read a book, unbothered by the noise.

What kind of book was it? I imagined Mizuki-san favoring complex works by foreign authors. “…Mizuki-san,” I whispered, her presence soothing despite the disbelief that we’d been gaming together since middle school.

Suddenly, she turned, and our eyes met. “—!” My heart leaped, my body freezing. Expressionless, Mizuki-san gave a small wave with her right hand. Reflexively, I waved back. Satisfied, she returned to her book.

“O-Oh…!” A surge of indescribable emotion washed over me. I’d just waved at the popular idol Mizuki Rinka! And we’d made eye contact! Glancing around, I saw no one had noticed. If they had, it would’ve caused a stir—Mizuki-san’s reputation for avoiding guys made any interaction with a plain guy like me shocking.

“…Is Rin really Mizuki-san?” I murmured, grappling with the confirmed truth. Miracles like this actually happened.

☆

Lunchtime arrived as fourth period ended, the classroom buzzing with activity. Students split into two groups: those hurrying to the cafeteria and those settling in with their bentos. I usually stayed in the classroom, but today was different—I had a rare appointment.

“Yo, Ayanokoji. Let’s grab some food.”

“Hey, Ayanokoji-kun. Your VIP has arrived.”

As I rose from my chair, two familiar faces approached. Tachibana, the chubby one, and Saito, the sharp-looking guy with glasses. We were a regular trio during breaks, always sticking together.

I pressed my hands together in apology. “Sorry, I’ve got plans today.”

“Huh? What’re you talking about? You don’t have anyone else to eat with besides us, right?” Tachibana’s tone was teasing, but it stung.

“That hurts, but… yeah, it’s true.”

Saito adjusted his glasses with a serious air. “Ayanokoji-kun, don’t waste time with odd excuses. My calculations show lunch is only forty minutes. Let’s eat quickly and discuss this month’s light novels.”

I shook my head, amused despite myself. Calculations? For a forty-minute lunch? What was he even working out? “No, I really have plans. I’m going.”

“Hold up.” Tachibana grabbed my arm as I started to walk away, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s not… a girl, is it?”

I froze, unable to respond immediately. Tachibana might be short and chubby, but his intense stare was surprisingly intimidating. As an online game addict and a bit of a coward, I felt cornered.

Saito chimed in, pushing up his glasses again. “Wait, Tachibana-kun. My calculations estimate a 0.4% chance of Ayanokoji-kun having a female friend. No need to ask.”

“That’s way too low!” I protested. “Is it that hopeless for me to have a girl friend?” Ten percent would’ve been kinder. Still low, but reasonable.

“Then who’s this ‘appointment’ with?” Tachibana pressed.

I hesitated, then muttered, “Mizuki-san.”

The two exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.

“Pfft, haha! You and Mizuki spending lunch together?” Tachibana wheezed.

“Well, uh, yeah. She invited me to the cafeteria…”

“No way that’s possible! Keep your delusions in check!” Tachibana roared.

Saito nodded sagely. “Exactly, Ayanokoji-kun. My calculations suggest the odds of Mizuki-san inviting you are astronomical.”

“What’s with the ‘astronomical’ nonsense? Don’t act all smart,” I snapped, irritation flaring. Maybe I should’ve slapped them for that.

“Hahaha! You cracked me up, Ayanokoji. Here, have a piece of my bell pepper as thanks.”

“Don’t want it. Eat it yourself.”

“Calm down, Ayanokoji-kun. I’ll offer you some eggplant,” Saito added.

“Thanks—wait, no way! You’re just pushing your hated foods on me!”

These jerks were messing with me, and it was infuriating. Still, I couldn’t blame them for doubting me. Even I could hardly believe it was real.

“May I have a moment?” A cool, clear voice cut through the noise.

I turned to find Mizuki-san standing behind me, her expression as composed as ever, though some might call it cold.

“Kazuto-kun, you haven’t forgotten our promise, have you?”

“N-No, I haven’t. I was just about to go.”

“Good. Let’s hurry to the cafeteria. It’ll get crowded if we dawdle.” With that, she turned and strode toward the classroom exit, her confident gait every bit that of a cool-type idol.

Tachibana and Saito gaped like stunned goldfish, their jaws practically on the floor.

“Uh, yeah. So, I’m… going,” I mumbled.

“Ayanokoji! What kind of trick did you pull?!” Tachibana demanded. “An online game addict like you eating with an idol? No way!”

“My calculations predict a meteor shower tomorrow,” Saito added, dazed.

“You guys are gonna pay for this later…” I muttered, shaking my head. Stop calling me an online game addict—it hit harder when they said it. The stares from other classmates didn’t help, either. My hands trembled under the spotlight, so I hurried after Mizuki-san, eager to escape.

☆

At the cafeteria, Mizuki-san and I both ordered the A-set meal, a healthy option with grilled fish. I usually preferred meat, but I matched her choice without thinking. We found a quiet corner table and sat across from each other.

I braced for attention, but the noisy, crowded cafeteria seemed to shield us. A few glances came our way, but nothing disruptive. Maybe the students were used to seeing an idol around, or maybe I was just being oversensitive.

“Still, to think Kaz was Kazuto-kun,” Mizuki-san said, her tone light with surprise. “I’m shocked.”

“I’m shocked too.” Probably a hundred times more than she was. Being called by my first name so casually made my heart skip. It felt natural, though, considering we were married in the game. Maybe I could try calling her Rinka-san.

…Nope. No way. If I had that kind of courage, I’d have a hundred female friends by now.

“Kaz comes from Kazuto, huh? A bit straightforward, isn’t it?” she teased.

“You’re one to talk, Mizuki-san. Rin comes from Rinka, right?”

“True… Maybe we really do get along. To think we’d name ourselves so similarly.”

“M-Maybe.” My heart skipped again. Hearing her say we got along made me stupidly happy.

I poked at the grilled fish with my chopsticks, breaking off a piece. It was tasteless—my nerves had numbed my tongue.

“To think I’d be eating with Kaz like this—it’s like a dream,” she said softly.

“R-Really? Sorry your friend—or rather, your in-game husband—is a guy like me.”

“You don’t need to put yourself down so much. I’m relieved Kaz turned out to be Ayanokoji Kazuto-kun.”

“Relieved?”

“Yes. You’re a much more wonderful guy than I expected.”

I froze. Could I just die now? It was probably flattery, but it hit so hard I could’ve cried. No regrets in this life… except I still wanted to keep gaming. Greedy me.

“Your in-game husband being a classmate—what are the odds?”

“Probably about the same as a meteor shower,” I said with a shrug. “Well, it’s just an in-game marriage, though.”

Mizuki-san set down her chopsticks, her expression serious. “Kazuto-kun, just because it’s online doesn’t mean it’s inferior to reality.”

“Huh?”

“It’s just my opinion, but… in the online world, where appearances and status are hidden, a person’s heart and nature shine through clearly.”

“O-Oh, I see…?”

“Of all the players I’ve met, Kazuto-kun was the most sincere and pure.”

“…R-Really?” Sincere, maybe not, but I’d played with a pure heart. I’d always been honest with Rin.

“I’ll say this now… Kazuto-kun, you were my emotional support.”

“Emotional support?” I echoed, confused.

She nodded, her expression softening. “Yes. During tough times when my idol activities weren’t going well, you encouraged me countless times.”

“Oh, yeah, there was a time like that.” I remembered Rin seeming down for a while, even through text chats. I hadn’t pried, assuming it was real-life troubles, and just tried to support her subtly.

“I’m shocked to learn you were dealing with idol activities,” I admitted.

“If I hadn’t met you in the game, I probably would’ve quit being an idol before high school.”

“That’s a bit dramatic.”

“It’s not dramatic,” she insisted. “Honestly, Star☆Mines only started gaining popularity in our first year of high school. Before that, it was really tough.”

She added that it was still tough, even now. According to their official site, Star☆Mines formed when the members were in their second year of middle school. Early on, their popularity was low, with talk of disbanding. To grow into the massively popular idol group they were now was incredible. As an online game addict, I couldn’t even imagine their struggles.

If I’d helped Mizuki-san even a little, that was something to be proud of.

“In real life, tons of people approach me with ulterior motives,” she continued, her voice tinged with bitterness. “And online, most male players change their attitude once they know I’m a girl.”

“That sounds rough.” I’d never been popular, but her words made me empathize.

“In the midst of all that, Kaz was the only one who stayed consistent with me, no matter what…” Mizuki-san smiled, as if cherishing a precious memory.

Memories of meeting Rin flooded back.

“I’m Rin. I’m a newbie, but nice to meet you!”

“Sure, let’s have fun playing together!”

A week later: “Kaz-san, want to dive into a dungeon today?”

“Of course!”

“It’d be great if you could teach me more stuff too.”

“Got it. How about we go mining after the dungeon?”

“Thank you!”

A month later: “Kaz, what do we do today? I’m up for anything~”

“Hmm, how about mining today?”

“Okay!”

Six months later: “Let’s go fishing!”

“Uh, I want to mine today.”

“Let’s go fishing!”

“Um.”

“Let’s go fishing!”

“Are you just bulldozing me?!”

…Wait, wasn’t Rin the one who changed? She’d gotten so bold!

“Kazuto-kun, are you listening to me?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” I nodded enthusiastically, but her skeptical look told me she saw right through me.

Mizuki-san pouted slightly. “Hmph… fine. What I’m saying is, I wouldn’t just marry anyone, even online. No, especially online, where a person’s heart matters more because you’re not swayed by appearances.”

“Y-Yeah…”

“Or do you think differently, Kazuto-kun?”

“No, I agree. Marriage in a game is a big deal, right?” I went along with her, but honestly, people viewed online game marriages differently. Some married for benefits, others, like Mizuki-san, for deeper reasons. In Black Plains, the marriage system offered little beyond commemorative outfits and titles, more about deepening bonds between close friends.

“Good. So you think the same as me, Kazuto-kun.” Mizuki-san sighed in relief, stroking her chest.

…Why did I feel uneasy? Like there was a disconnect between us. I saw our in-game marriage as a sign of closeness, but her perspective seemed to lean somewhere else entirely…

“Oh, it’s Rin-chan!” A lively, cute voice cut through the cafeteria’s din. I turned and froze at the sight of an unbelievably beautiful girl.

“Why, Nana, you’re as energetic as ever,” Mizuki-san said warmly.

“Yup! I ate a ton, so I’m full of energy!” The girl with slightly long short hair—Nana—beamed with an innocent, approachable smile. She was the picture of an ideal beautiful girl.

…Wait. Could she be—?

“Oh? Is this guy a friend of yours, Rin-chan?” Nana asked.

“Yes. Ayanokoji Kazuto-kun.”

“Got it! I’m Kurumizaka Nana, also a member of Star☆Mines, same as Rin-chan! Nice to meet you!” She greeted me with a carefree smile, confirming she was the Kurumizaka Nana, the energetic center of Star☆Mines, said to be closest to Mizuki Rinka.

☆

“I’ve never seen Rin-chan eating with a guy before~” Kurumizaka-san said, sliding naturally into the seat next to Mizuki-san. With two idols at our table, the cafeteria’s whispers grew louder. Hating the spotlight, I shrank down, trying to blend into the background.

“You don’t dislike Ayanokoji-kun?” Kurumizaka-san asked.

“Not at all… quite the opposite,” Mizuki-san replied. “This is our first time talking in real life, but we’ve known each other online for a long time.”

“Oh, is this guy Kaz-kun!?” Kurumizaka-san’s eyes sparkled, as if she were meeting a celebrity.

…An online game addict celebrated by an idol? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? My nerves kept me from feeling flattered.

“You know about me, huh,” I managed.

“Yup. Rin-chan’s told me a lot about you. You’re a really charming guy, right?”

“Uh, don’t ask me…” Nodding would’ve made me look like a weirdo.

“Nana, don’t tease Kazuto-kun too much,” Mizuki-san chided.

“Aww, but I want to hear more about Kaz-kun! I’m super curious about what Rin-chan’s like online!”

“It’s not much different from real life.”

No, it’s completely different! Their personalities were polar opposites! My inner retort went unheard as they continued.

“I’m jealous. Getting close enough to a guy to marry him in an online game,” Kurumizaka-san said.

“You talk to guys too, don’t you, Nana?”

“I talk, but it’s just talking. I don’t have any guys I’m close enough to call friends~” Kurumizaka-san slumped onto the table, looking dejected. With her charm, she could probably build a reverse harem in no time.

“I want a friend like Kaz-kun too.”

“That’s tough,” Mizuki-san said. “Just like in real life, there are plenty of weird people online too.”

Watching from the side, Kurumizaka-san turned to me. “I don’t know if now’s the right time, but… thank you so much, Kaz-kun.”

“For what?”

“For always supporting Rin-chan. She’s doing great now, but there was a time when she was pushing herself so hard it was really worrying…”

I nodded, recalling those moments when Rin seemed unstable in-game. “Was there? I think I remember a few times.”

“Nana, stop talking about that in front of me,” Mizuki-san muttered, her cheeks faintly flushed. “It’s embarrassing.”

That shy, blushing look was unfairly charming. A flawless, cool girl showing vulnerability was a million times more impactful.

“Hey, can I join the game sometime? Oh, unless it’s a bother,” Kurumizaka-san asked.

“I don’t mind,” Mizuki-san replied. “In fact, haven’t I invited you before?”

“W-Well… I was kinda scared of online games, so I never got around to it…”

“It’s fine. Sure, some people don’t follow manners, but not everyone’s like that. And if anything happens, Kazuto-kun and I will protect you.”

“Thanks, Rin-chan! So, uh, what do I do first?”

“Well, first, go to the official site on your computer and—”

Mizuki-san explained calmly as Kurumizaka-san listened intently. Were the three of us really going to play together? Two idols and me, a nobody? The thought alone made me so nervous I could cry.

“Hey, Rin-chan, I can’t follow just by hearing it. Come to my place sometime and teach me directly.”

“What was the point of all my explaining? Fine, that’ll be faster.”

“Haha, sorry, Rin-chan. But I’m so excited already. Playing with you and Kaz-kun!”

Which Kaz-kun was she talking about? I was curious about my reputation between them but lacked the guts to ask. I couldn’t even join their conversation—a loner’s curse in a group of three. Plus, they’d been friends since elementary school, and Mizuki-san became an idol because of Kurumizaka-san’s invitation, according to their site. No way I could butt into their dynamic.

“Rin-chan and Kaz-kun are super close online, right?” Kurumizaka-san asked.

“Yes. ‘Close’ doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Mizuki-san said firmly.

“I’m so jealous. If you’re that close, you can be close in real life too, right?”

“Yes.” Mizuki-san nodded, satisfied, then added with a happy smile, “—From now on, we can be together in real life too.”

…What did that mean? I tilted my head, confused, and caught Kurumizaka-san’s eye. She looked equally puzzled, a question mark practically hovering above her.

Oblivious to our confusion, Mizuki-san resumed eating in silence. A brief quiet settled over us, the cafeteria’s noise filling the void.

“Uh, um… I’m gonna go. My friends are waiting in the classroom,” Kurumizaka-san said, standing awkwardly. Was she escaping?

“Alright. Let’s meet again after school.”

“Yup. Let’s do our best at today’s lesson!” Kurumizaka-san flashed a bright smile and headed for the exit, glancing back once with a slight smile. At the time, I had no idea what it meant…

☆

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. After school, classmates rushed out, likely heading to clubs or to hang out with friends. With no plans, I lingered at my desk, gazing absently at Mizuki-san’s back as she left the classroom. She gave me a small wave, and I barely held back a grin, waving back.

She joined Kurumizaka-san in the hallway, probably off to idol activities—practicing singing, dancing, or recording something. What was a high school idol’s life like? Things I’d never cared about before now piqued my interest. I wanted to know more about Mizuki-san, but since she avoided real-life topics, I held back from asking.

After sitting for a while, I stood to head home.

“Ayanokoji-kuuun…! Where do you think you’re going!?” Tachibana’s voice boomed.

“My calculations say the chance of you escaping us is 5%,” Saito added.

“You guys…” I sighed. Tachibana spread his arms to block my path, and Saito grabbed my bag. They were serious.

“N-N-N-No way you’re spending private time with Mizuki Rinka, right!?” Tachibana’s eyes were bloodshot.

“Nope. Just going home to play the game.”

“Really!? You sure!?”

“Of course.” I nodded firmly, unnerved by his intensity. This guy was actually scary.

“Calm down, Tachibana-kun,” Saito said. “Ayanokoji-kun, sit.”

“I want to go home.”

“Sit. …Before my glasses start shooting fire.”

I relented, sinking back into my chair at his absurd threat. What even was that?

“I kinda want to see his glasses shoot fire, though. Am I the only one?”

“Alright, Ayanokoji, spill it already,” Tachibana demanded.

“Spill what?” I replied, keeping my tone even.

“Duh, how you got so chummy with Mizuki!” he pressed, leaning forward.

“Oh…” I trailed off, unsure where to start.

“And you even chatted with Nana-chan! You extravagant jerk!” Tachibana added, his voice rising with mock outrage.

“Extravagant?” I raised an eyebrow, glancing at Tachibana’s slightly rounded stomach. “Look at your body. Maybe cut back a bit.”

“What’d you say, punk?!” Tachibana shot back, his face flushing.

“Pfft!” Saito chimed in, barely holding back laughter. “My calculations give that comeback a perfect 100!”

“Even you, Saito?” Tachibana groaned, clutching his stomach defensively. “My body’s fine! We’re talking about you, Ayanokoji! How’d you get close to Mizuki?!”

“More importantly,” I deflected smoothly, “you call Mizuki-san by her last name but Kurumizaka-san by her first. Why’s that?”

Tachibana blinked, thrown off. “It’s a vibe thing. Mizuki doesn’t feel like someone you can just call by her first name… Nana-chan’s got this friendly, approachable feel. Man, I wish she’d be my girlfriend.”

“I kinda get that,” I admitted. “Alright, so—”

“Your deflection skills are pathetic,” Tachibana interrupted, smirking. “Just talk already.”

“Hmm…” I hesitated, weighing my options.

Mizuki-san playing an online game—that was shocking news, wasn’t it? Not that I looked down on gaming, but it didn’t fit her polished idol image. It wasn’t exactly character-breaking, but it was close. Spreading that around felt wrong.

“Hey, Ayanokoji!” Tachibana snapped, waving a hand in front of my face. “Spill, or I won’t give you my bell peppers anymore!”

“I don’t even like bell peppers,” I said flatly. “I don’t hate them, but I don’t love them either.”

“Fine!” Tachibana declared, digging into his pocket. “I’ll give you a thousand yen, so tell us!”

He and Saito clasped their hands together, practically begging. Their desperation was almost creepy. Ignoring them seemed tempting, but if I stayed silent, they’d probably make a bigger fuss.

With a sigh, I gave in. “…Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Got it!” Tachibana grinned. “We’re friends, right? We’ll keep our promise!”

“My calculations say the chance of us keeping it is 2000%!” Saito added enthusiastically.

“That just makes it sound fake,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Anyway, I met Mizuki-san in a net game.”

“Oh?” Tachibana leaned closer. “How’d that happen?”

“Well… the person I married in the game two years ago was Mizuki-san.”

“Seriously?!” they both shouted in unison, eyes wide with shock.

Yeah, that was a normal reaction. I couldn’t blame them.

“Hey, Saito!” Tachibana turned to him. “What’s the chance of your online game wife being a popular idol?!”

“M-My calculations say about 30%,” Saito stammered, adjusting his glasses.

“That’s pretty high!” Tachibana exclaimed.

They started making a racket, drawing curious glances from the few classmates still in the room.

“Keep it down,” I hissed. “It’ll be bad if others find out.”

“Huh? What’s bad about it?” Tachibana asked, genuinely confused.

“It’s about Mizuki-san’s image,” I explained. “If her gaming hobby got out, she’d probably quit the game.”

I wasn’t certain—she’d never said it outright—but it was a gut feeling from years of knowing her in-game.

“…Maybe,” Saito agreed, stroking his chin. “My calculations say there’s a 99% chance Mizuki-san’s gaming hobby would cause a public stir. Plus, tons of people would flood the game to meet her. It’d get chaotic.”

That was more prediction than calculation, but he was spot-on. At the very least, it’d mess with Mizuki-san’s head.

“So, please,” I said, my voice low and serious, “don’t tell anyone.”

They fell silent, exchanging thoughtful glances. Feeling a pang of unease, I pressed on.

“I want to protect Mizuki-san’s space. That game’s probably the only place she can relax without people watching her. Please.”

I wasn’t used to pleading like this, but I meant every word. They looked at each other, then placed their hands on my shoulders.

“Ayanokoji,” Tachibana said solemnly, “no need to worry. Your feelings came through loud and clear.”

“Tachibana…” I started, almost touched. Was this the power of friendship?

“—So I’ll let you have my bell peppers,” he finished with a grin.

“We’re friends, but I’m saying this: I’ll deck you,” I shot back, my glare sharp.

“Haha! Kidding, Ayanokoji!” Tachibana laughed, raising his hands. “We’ll keep Mizuki’s secret!”

“No, seriously, sorry,” he added, shrinking under my stare. “Getting glared at by quiet Ayanokoji is scary.”

Saito chuckled, stepping in. “Calm down, Ayanokoji-kun. That’s just Tachibana being Tachibana. I’ll keep the promise too, so don’t worry.”

“Haa… fine,” I sighed, letting it go. I knew they weren’t the type to break promises. That’s why I’d told them.

As their laughter filled the air, my smartphone pinged. A message from Rin: Wanna play a bit tonight?

“Oh…” I murmured, glancing at the screen.

Saito and Tachibana craned their necks to peek. “W-What?” I asked, pulling the phone back.

“Can we join?” Tachibana asked eagerly.

“No way,” I said firmly. “Mizuki-san in the game is innocent but super wary of people she doesn’t trust.”

I’d never seen her warm up to anyone but me. Her in-game relationships were… exclusive, to say the least.

“She sounds like a cat,” Saito mused. “Well, if you say so, we’ll back off.”

“Yeah,” Tachibana agreed. “Man, maybe I’ll play an online game again. I might marry an idol!”

Their lighthearted banter eased the tension, and the Mizuki-san issue felt settled. While nodding along, I typed a quick reply to Rin: Sure. I’ll be online around 9 p.m. Excitement bubbled in my chest, but a nervous thrum lingered.

☆

“…Almost time for our meetup.”

A few minutes to 9 p.m. I was logged in, staring at the computer screen. My character, a young warrior, stood fishing by the seaside. A sword-and-shield guy in close combat, sure, but with a mining skill so high I looked more like a pickaxe-wielding miner on vacation. And now, fishing.

“Oh, got one… a boot? Seriously?” I muttered, tossing the worthless junk from my inventory. Brushing it off, I cast my line again.

Tonight, I’d probably fish and chat with Rin. We didn’t usually play on weekdays—maybe 20 or 30 minutes if we did. I used to think she was just busy with real life, but now I knew: Mizuki-san, swamped with idol work, had little weekday free time.

“…Feels surprisingly normal,” I said to myself. I’d expected to be a nervous wreck gaming with a popular idol, but I was oddly calm.

“Wonder when Rin will show up.”

A few more minutes of fishing passed. The chat log pinged: Rin-san has logged in.

“Hey~ I’m fishing right now,” I typed quickly.

“Whoa, that’s rare! You, fishing, Kaz!?” came her reply.

Yup, that was the usual Rin. I’d wondered which side she’d show—Mizuki-san or Rin—but it was definitely Rin.

“I’m heading over now~” she added.

“Got it,” I typed back, keeping my line in the water.

Soon, Rin’s character rode up on horseback, dismounted, and strode across the sand to stand beside me. Same as always: a blonde elf in slightly revealing ethnic clothing. Was this Mizuki-san’s taste?

“It’s rare for you to invite me on a Monday,” I noted.

“After what happened today, I just wanted to play together, even for a bit,” she replied.

“I see.” A smile crept onto my face. Whether she was Mizuki-san or not, I was just happy to play with Rin, even briefly on a weekday.

Rin readied her fishing rod and cast her lure into the sea. We stood shoulder-to-shoulder, fishing—a familiar sight from the past few years. Even after confirming each other’s identities today, the scene on-screen felt unchanged.

“Actually, I was super nervous at school all day~” Rin admitted.

“Nervous? Why?” I asked.

“Well, thinking I’d meet the real Kaz made me nervous, duh~”

“You didn’t seem nervous at all,” I pointed out. “You were reading a book this morning.”

“I was just acting calm. I don’t even remember what the book was about.”

“Really? I wasn’t the only one nervous, then.”

“When our eyes met, I didn’t know what to do and just waved on impulse.”

“Oh, that wave,” I recalled, chuckling.

“I was so happy you waved back. Weren’t you nervous, Kazuto-kun?”

“Super nervous,” I admitted. “I was holed up in the bathroom all morning from nerves.”

“That’s too much, lol. You didn’t seem nervous, though.”

No, I was insanely nervous. I’d probably said “nervous” more than anyone on Earth today.

“At lunch, when I tried talking to you, my voice was shaking a bit… I was so embarrassed I thought my face would catch fire.”

“Was it shaking…?” she asked. “You seemed normal to me.”

“No way. It was definitely shaking.”

Come to think of it, Mizuki-san had said what she needed and left the classroom quickly. Her cool demeanor hid her emotions, but hearing her inner thoughts now made her seem… adorable.

We kept chatting, the conversation flowing effortlessly, chats streaming by. Before I knew it—

“Oh, it’s already this late,” I noticed. An hour had flown by; it was 10:12 p.m. Rin usually logged off by 10:00.

“You’re logging off now, right?” I asked casually.

After a few seconds, a short “Yeah” came back.

“…?” An odd silence followed. Should I say something? As I hesitated, Rin’s next message popped up.

“Got a mic headset?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Wanna do voice chat sometimes?”

“Sure, let’s do it.” It made sense—since we didn’t need to hide our identities anymore, voice chat was fine. I had no reason to refuse.

“Also, you free Saturday night? Nana and I might be able to make it.”

“I’m free. I’ll make sure I’m free.”

“Lol, ‘make sure’? I can’t log in until Saturday, so bear with it.”

“That’s a bummer. I’ll just play alone sadly.”

“Haha. Night, Kazuto-kun. See you tomorrow at school.”

“Night. See you tomorrow.”

Rin’s character vanished, and the chat log showed: Rin-san has logged out.

“…Guess I’ll log off too,” I murmured. Normally, I’d game until 11 p.m., but I wanted to lie in bed, basking in this pleasant afterglow.

“Today was one heck of a day…” I muttered, collapsing onto my bed. Thinking about Mizuki-san and Rin, I drifted off to sleep.