Chapter 4 | Wait, Rinka, Are You Building a Harem Within the Group?

 

 

The reason I, Kiyokawa Ayane, joined Star☆Mines was a single moment by the riverbank, dressed in a costume that felt like a bold declaration. I wore it for one simple reason: I wanted to shed the person I was. Weak to pressure, never needed by anyone, I lingered in the shadows, aimlessly wandering the school during breaks—a plain girl trapped in monotonous days. I despised that version of myself and yearned to change, starting with my appearance.

If I could transform my looks to match my ideal self, I thought, maybe I could become her. By walking through town as a refined young lady, seen as such by others, I naively believed I could step into that ideal. But I lacked the courage to parade through crowded streets in eye-catching clothes. So, I began along the quiet riverbank in the evening, hoping to ease myself into being noticed.

That choice, however, was a fatal misstep. The outfit, so out of place in that serene setting, drew attention like a beacon. It stood out far more awkwardly than it would have in town. Realizing this after a short walk, embarrassment flooded me, and I lowered my gaze, ready to flee home. That’s when I saw her—a girl about my age, practicing her singing alone. Her hair swayed gently on her shoulders as she sang with unbridled joy.

Mesmerized, I watched her as I walked, until she suddenly turned. Our eyes locked. Her gaze widened, and with startling energy, she rushed toward me.

“You’re super cute! An Ojou-sama!?”

Her voice sparkled with excitement, and I stammered, “Uh, um… yes…”

Without missing a beat, she blurted, “If you’d like, wanna become an idol with me!?”

My eyes widened, a single “…Huh?” escaping my lips.

That was Kurumizaka Nana, the leader of Star☆Mines—a girl driven by pure emotion, a wild boar charging forward with unstoppable momentum. An invitation so absurd would normally be brushed off without a second thought. But I had a premonition: if I went home now, I’d abandon my resolve to change. Walking the riverbank in that bold outfit had given me a fleeting sense of accomplishment, the greatest I’d ever felt. If I seized this chance, I thought, I could keep pushing toward my ideal self. This was surely my first—and perhaps last—opportunity.

More than anything, being scouted out of nowhere made me feel special, like I’d become the protagonist of my own story. And so, swept up in Nana-senpai’s momentum, I threw myself into the world of idols.

It wasn’t smooth sailing. Countless struggles awaited me. Then, one day, Komori Risuzu-san appeared—or rather, was dragged in by Nana-senpai. With zero motivation, she muttered, “…Gacha games, microtransactions. Gimme money.” Those were her first words to Rinka-senpai and me.

Before I knew it, KM-san was part of the group too. The five of us were utterly different, each driven by unique motives for becoming idols, clashing over trivial matters and conflicting values. I had a vague sense this wouldn’t last. The others likely felt it too, and even Nana-senpai was quietly suffering, burdened by worry.

But Rinka-senpai was different. She faced reality head-on, working tirelessly with stoic determination. If she had time to fret, she acted instead. Despite her cool demeanor, a fleeting passion burned within her, as if she were pouring her entire life into her efforts. Perhaps it was a form of escapism, but to me, it was breathtaking.

Unlike me, who rejected myself and sought change through superficial means, Rinka-senpai fought as her true self. Even if her path wasn’t perfect, it was beautiful. That realization struck me hard. I’d been running from reckless effort, content with half-hearted attempts at my dreams, even after becoming an idol.

Watching Rinka-senpai, I began to admire her—yearning to stay by her side, to support her. I wiped her sweat, polished her shoes, even collected the strands of her hair that fell to the floor. Then, one day, an unfamiliar term slipped from her lips: “online games.” Kasumi-san had suggested she try one, though Rinka-senpai grumbled it wasn’t fun. Still, true to her nature, she persisted, determined to understand its essence.

My admiration for her soared. If Rinka-senpai was trying something new, so would I. I’d never played games before, and the controls were foreign to me. I scraped together money for a cheap gaming PC, struggled with mouse and keyboard, and fumbled through downloading Black Plains. The game barely ran—lagging or freezing until I lowered the graphics to the bare minimum. Research revealed my PC’s low specs were to blame, but there was little I could do.

Unfamiliar with the controls, I was predictably terrible. A clumsy player like me wasn’t worthy of gaming with Rinka-senpai. But I resolved to surpass her—to become skilled enough to escort her through the game, to make her enjoy it wholeheartedly. In idol activities, I dragged the group down, but in this, I wanted to be her pillar.

I threw myself into it with desperate effort. I cut sleep, studied Black Plains gameplay videos during school breaks, and practiced mouse and keyboard movements relentlessly. I poured the same intensity into idol activities, pushing myself to the brink. To my surprise, humans can unleash strength beyond their limits for someone they admire. My gaming skills and idol abilities grew tremendously, and for the first time, I felt truly alive. I learned that true potential emerges when you earnestly want to be there for someone.

I became an imperfect idol who could escort Rinka-senpai in online games, mastering Black Plains’ playstyles and controlling my character without looking at my hands. My heart swelled with anticipation as I prepared to call out to her, ready to say, “I’ve started playing online games too. Want to play together tonight?” She was chatting cheerfully with Nana-senpai when it happened.

“Rin-chan, that Kazu-kun guy is so kind, huh?”

“Yes, you could say he’s irreplaceable… My—no, our pillar in online games.”

Rinka-senpai’s smile, radiant and happy, was the first I’d seen like it. That smile was supposed to be for me.

☆

That day, I headed to Rinka’s house in high spirits. Nonoa-chan had invited me to hang out, and to my delight, Rinka was there too. The three of us would spend the day together—a trio that felt like skipping toward heaven. When I messaged Rinka upon arriving, she opened the door, dressed in a butler outfit.

“Welcome back, Master.”

“Uh, cute, but… why that outfit?”

“Nonoa took a liking to it… So I get put in this butler outfit sometimes.”

“…That’s tough. But, yeah… it looks really good.”

The butler outfit suited Rinka perfectly, and I couldn’t help but strike a mental victory pose.

“So, Kazuto, you’re into this kind of thing, huh?”

“When the person I like wears something special, it just… hits me right in the chest. Enough to make me set my phone wallpaper to Rinka as a butler.”

“…R-really? If it’s that good… maybe I’ll wear it every day. Come on, come inside.”

Rinka’s cheeks flushed, a rare glimpse of her flustered. Entering her room, I saw Nonoa-chan at the desk, dressed in a pure white dress—an Ojou-sama, overflowing with cuteness. I covered my mouth, trembling with emotion, words failing me.

“Ah! Kazuto-oniichan! Hey, hey, am I cute?”

“…Cute? You’re radiating so much cute aura I can barely breathe…”

“…Master?”

Rinka’s piercing glare snapped me back to reality, its intensity terrifying.

“My reaction to you was way different. I’m not happy.”

“No, it’s just… the weight of the cuteness is different, you know?”

“What does that mean?”

“Rinka’s cuteness seeps into my heart, while Nonoa-chan’s is the exciting kind.”

“I don’t get it… Something only a lolicon husband would say.”

“I’m not a lolicon! Seriously!”

Rinka turned away, pouting and glaring at the wall. Nonoa-chan, undeterred, beamed, “Kazuto-oniichan, call me Ojou-sama!”

“Nonoa-Ojou-sama.”

“Nnh, ehehe!”

Her melting smile radiated happiness. She ran to Rinka, flashing a huge grin.

“Rinka-oneechan too!”

“…Nonoa-Ojou-sama.”

“Hey, one more time!”

“Rinka-Ojou-sama.”

“No! Me!”

“Nonoa-Ojou-sama.”

“Yay! Now say it while hugging me!”

It was pure, clingy affection, and Rinka humored her with light teasing, their closeness as sisters warming my heart. Waiting for their exchange to settle, I asked Rinka, “Are you… always made to say that?”

“Yes, well. She’s a helpless kid.”

Her tone was exasperated, but her lips curved happily. Nonoa-chan soon demanded, “Rinka-oneechan, snack time!”

“I’ll bring it right away.”

Rinka sat Nonoa-chan at the desk, left, and returned with pudding, spoon-feeding her when demanded. It was like a spoiled Ojou-sama served by her butler, but one question nagged at me. When Nonoa-chan dashed out, struck by a sudden idea, I turned to Rinka.

“I’d expect you to scold her for being so spoiled.”

“True… But I’m busy with idol activities and often can’t spend time with Nonoa. When I have time, I want to be her playmate, so this is a good chance.”

“I see…”

Her words carried a sisterly warmth. “Besides, even when she’s being spoiled, Nonoa’s cute.”

Right after Rinka smiled, Nonoa-chan zoomed back, holding pudding and a spoon. “Rinka-oneechan! This time, I’ll feed you!”

Not just for herself, but for others—an angel. Rinka glanced at me, smiling, “See? Cute, right?”

“I’ll feed Kazuto-oniichan too!”

“An angel’s feeding…! Oh, ugh… ooh!”

“Kazuto?”

Rinka’s smile vanished, replaced by a terrifying deadpan stare.

☆

After snack time, I changed into a butler outfit to join the Ojou-sama play, borrowing one from Kasumi-san’s room. The game was simple: when Nonoa-chan ordered, “Bring me the rabbit scissors from somewhere in the house,” Rinka and I raced to fetch it. We retrieved all sorts of items, but I couldn’t outpace Rinka. We carried Nonoa-chan on our backs around the room or took turns petting her head endlessly, all to spoil her. It was ridiculously fun, and before I knew it, evening had arrived.

Nonoa-chan, exhausted from excitement, fell asleep on Rinka’s bed, breathing softly. “Nonoa-chan… she’s so energetic…”

“Yes. But compared to kids her age, she’s a bit childish, isn’t she?”

“I hope she stays like this forever…!”

I meant it. If Nonoa-chan grew into someone who’d say, “Yo, Kazuto, hand over your New Year’s money… Tch, that’s it?” I’d log out of this world instantly.

“You were really into it, Kazuto. You did things for Nonoa that you wouldn’t do for me.”

“That’s… we’re not in a master-servant relationship, right? Even if it’s just play.”

“I see. So no matter what, we’re a loving couple. Your attitude toward an Ojou-sama and your wife should naturally differ… I didn’t realize something so simple. Sorry.”

“No, it’s not something to apologize for.”

Being called a couple no longer felt jarring. It truly felt like Rinka and I were married in real life.

“Hey, are couples and lovers the same?”

Nonoa-chan, stirred by our voices, asked with half-open eyes.

“They’re not the same. Lovers acknowledge each other as special, while couples swear to be together for life.”

“Ohh. Aki-chan said when you’re with a lover, your heart goes kyun-kyun!”

“Wait, does Aki-chan have a lover?”

“Yup!”

Nonoa-chan nodded casually. Aki-chan, her friend from the apartment, a first-grader, already had a lover? Wasn’t that too early?

“Just to check, what kind of kid is she dating?”

“Umm, Yamazato-kun from my class. He’s good at dodgeball!”

“I-I see… One more thing, okay?”

“Hm? Sure!”

“Nonoa-chan… you’re not dating anyone, right?”

“Nope!”

Relief washed over me, my heart pounding until her answer. “Listen, Nonoa-chan. If someone confesses to you, talk to me before you answer, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Even if you get a crush, talk to me, alright?”

“Okay!”

I knew I was being overprotective, but I pressed it with a grin. Rinka chimed in, “Talk to me too. As your sister, I need to vet your partner.” We were far too obsessed with Nonoa-chan.

“So, you become lovers, then a couple, right?”

“If you stay in love, that’s generally how it goes.”

“Then Rinka-oneechan and Kazuto-oniichan were lovers once, right?”

“…Huh?”

“Rinka-oneechan, did your heart go kyun-kyun?”

“…”

“Did it not?”

“Kazuto and I… we went from friends to married. We never had a lover phase.”

“So Rinka-oneechan doesn’t know the sweet-sour feeling of being lovers?”

“The… sweet-sour feeling of lovers?”

“Yup! Aki-chan said it’s not just kyun-kyun; lovers are sweet-sour. She said it’s fun!”

“…”

Rinka fell silent, but Nonoa-chan continued innocently. “Rinka-oneechan became a couple with Kazuto-oniichan without knowing the fun of being lovers, huh?”

“—Ugh!”

Nonoa-chan meant no harm, simply stating a fact. But it struck Rinka deeply, her hand clutching her chest as she groaned. Nonoa-chan giggled, “I wanna feel kyun-kyun too!” lost in her imagination of love, while Rinka muttered, “The fun of lovers… I didn’t know it with Kazuto…” I, too, imagined Nonoa-chan with a lover, taking critical mental damage as if spitting blood.

☆

Rinka’s heart was troubled by the concept of being lovers. Believing she’d skipped from friends to a couple, Nonoa-chan’s words made her feel she’d missed the sweet-sour joy of that phase. I thought I’d tasted that feeling, but Rinka was fixated on their couple dynamic, creating a strange disconnect.

So, Rinka turned to her comrades, those who’d shared her hardships. “I, of all people, shall teach you what it means to be lovers!” Kiyokawa declared, chest puffed with confidence. The setting was my room, with Rinka, Nana, and Risuzu gathered—a rare assembly of Star☆Mines, minus KM-san, and quite a spectacle.

“Kisses, kisses! You gotta kiss! Right, Rin-chan!”

“I said it’s impossible! Like I told you before, not in front of everyone…!”

“Then the cheek!”

“If there was… nngh, more atmosphere…”

Rinka, arms crossed, fretted, while Nana passionately pushed for kissing. “Nana-senpai, with all due respect, kissing out of nowhere is absurd.”

“Eh? Is it?”

“First, you let your gazes meet, sending signals to each other, building the mood.”

“Can’t you kiss to build the mood?”

“Nana-senpai…!”

Kiyokawa pressed her temples, head aching. Nana’s words, brimming with her characteristic momentum, could seem promiscuous from anyone else. “Kisses! Kisses set the mood!”

“No! Eyes first! Eyes!”

“Kisses!”

“Eyes!”

Their argument devolved into childish shouting. Rinka, caught in the middle, looked unusually flustered, unable to assert herself as the cause of their debate. Finding no chance to interject, I turned to Risuzu, who watched quietly from the sidelines.

“By the way, Risuzu, you okay with this?”

“…With what?”

“I thought you might not want to see Rinka and me getting all lovey-dovey.”

“…I don’t wanna see it. But if there’s a chance, I wanna see it. Don’t wanna, but can’t help wanting to. That kinda thing.”

“Got it.”

I didn’t get it. That was just Risuzu’s sensibility, I supposed. Meanwhile, Nana and Kiyokawa’s argument finally settled.

“Fine. I’ll let Ayane-chan have this one,” Kiyokawa conceded.

“Hehe, I’ll make sure Rinka-senpai experiences the perfect sweet-sourness of lovers!” Nana declared, her grin brimming with mischief.

Watching them, I couldn’t help but think those two were enjoying this the most. Kiyokawa, ever the director, started issuing instructions.

“Now, sit on the bed and face each other.”

Rinka settled on the bed, and I followed, caught in the current of their enthusiasm. Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t exactly agreed to this. Rinka, Nana, and Kiyokawa had barged into my house, Risuzu let them in, and here we were. Refusing now would probably spark a riot, and besides, this wasn’t as risky as the culture festival live. So… it was fine, I guess.

“First, gently touch hands and hold them softly.”

Rinka, following the command, brushed the back of my hand lightly, her fingers tracing a soft path before clasping mine firmly. Her face flushed a vivid red—partly from her friends’ watchful eyes, no doubt, but also because this deliberate act of affection felt like a first. My own cheeks warmed in response.

“Bring your faces closer.”

“Gently touch each other’s cheeks… Yes, like that!”

The air grew thick with tension, my heart pounding. Nana’s excited breaths filled the room, while Risuzu, cross-legged on the floor, shook her leg restlessly. Rinka’s breath grazed my nose, teasingly close. If I leaned forward just a bit, our lips would meet. For a fleeting moment, my rationality dissolved, swept away by impulse—

“Ugh… N-no, it’s too embarrassing!” Rinka blurted, pushing me lightly on the chest.

As expected. “Hold on, Rin-chan! That’s the sweet-sourness of lovers!” Nana protested.

…Probably not, I thought.

“It’s embarrassing being watched!” Rinka’s voice rose, flustered and raw. “No, well, being close to Kazuto is part of it too! And it’s so bright!”

She was at her limit, her usual composure unraveling. Kiyokawa, however, smirked with a glint of inspiration.

“Hmm… Oh, I’ve got it!”

A few minutes later, a chair stood a couple of steps from the bed, a smartphone propped on its backrest, streaming a video call. Nana, Risuzu, and Kiyokawa watched from another room, perfectly positioned to observe us. Kiyokawa had already briefed me on what to do to capture this “sweet-sourness of lovers,” and now we were about to act it out.

Did they really need to watch? I wondered. Nana and Kiyokawa insisted, “We have to make sure you’re doing it right!” Rinka, surprisingly reserved, added, “They’re taking the time to advise me, so…” When relying on her friends, Rinka turned oddly passive, a mix of stubbornness and vulnerability surfacing in moments of uncertainty.

Sitting on the bed’s edge, Rinka and I gazed at each other. Her eyes darted away shyly—adorable.

“You okay?”

She nodded, a small, silent gesture, her tension almost tangible. Not being watched directly by the Star☆Mines girls might ease things, but…

“Sorry, Kazuto.”

“Huh?”

“We became a couple without making lover-like memories. I should’ve asked you out first… I rushed things.”

“I don’t mind at all. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“…Kazuto.”

“I’m always thrilled by you, and I think you feel the same.”

“Yes, I’m… thrilled, so much.”

“Rinka, maybe we’re a couple savoring the sweet-sourness of lovers at the same time.”

“A couple, yet—!” Her eyes widened in realization.

What we’d been doing already felt like lovers’ moments. Whispering softly, leaning close, we forgot the phone’s watchful eye, lost in our own world. Then, frantic footsteps thundered up the stairs.

The door burst open with a BANG! Risuzu leapt in.

“Risuzu!?”

“…N-no… I can’t… I can’t hold back!”

“Risuzu—!?”

She charged, diving onto Rinka with full force. The bed creaked loudly as Risuzu pinned her down, breathing heavily. “…Hff, hff. Rinka-san’s… Rinka-san’s thighs are mine.”

“Huh—?”

With insect-like speed, Risuzu clung to Rinka’s thighs, rubbing her cheek against them, her pent-up desires unleashed. “Hey, Risuzu! Stop, stop it!” Rinka cried.

“…Mmm. I’ve… always wanted to do this.”

“Kazuto! Help!”

“Uh? Oh…”

I hesitated, their clothes disheveled from the tussle, unsure where to look. As I wavered, Nana and Kiyokawa rushed in. “Wow, looks fun! Alright, me too! Ei!” Nana shouted, diving onto Rinka like an affectionate big dog, hugging her tightly while chanting, “Rin-chan, Rin-chan, Rin-chan!” Risuzu clung to Rinka’s thighs, unyielding. Rinka was overwhelmed.

“What is this situation…!” Kiyokawa muttered, dumbfounded.

For once, we shared the same sentiment. Three popular idols tangled in a chaotic pile—a rare, almost surreal sight. Watching it, my brain found an odd calm. Why did girls having fun together feel so soothing? As long as it stayed wholesome, anyway.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen… I couldn’t predict Risuzu-san’s impulsive actions… A serious miscalculation,” Kiyokawa murmured, her face twisting with regret.

☆

Sunday afternoon, Rinka invited me on a date, and we agreed to meet at the station plaza. Our first date had nearly exposed her identity, forcing us to flee to her house. Since then, she’d perfected her disguise: hair in a ponytail, hat pulled low, sunglasses shielding her eyes, and a large mask covering most of her face. No one could tell it was her, though her cuteness still shone through, even if the look was a bit suspicious. She’d walked through town like this several times, never recognized.

Figuring it was safe, I accepted her invitation. At the station plaza, I found Rinka already waiting.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Yes, I waited an hour.”

“…It’s thirty minutes before our meeting time.”

“I couldn’t contain my excitement and came early. Waiting for my husband was surprisingly fulfilling.”

Her mask hid her face, but I sensed a gentle smile—quintessentially Rinka. “You mentioned on the phone there’s a place you want to go…”

“There’s something I want to see with you, for our future.”

“For our future? Not a date?”

“Of course, it’s a couple’s date too. You’ve finally embraced your role as my husband, right? So I want to start seriously planning for our future.”

“Embraced my role as husband…”

“Didn’t you say the other day? That we’re a couple savoring the sweet-sourness of lovers.”

“Oh, yeah.”

I had said that, meaning to align with Rinka’s perspective, but it felt natural too. Her calling us a couple still sounded odd, a quirk of societal norms, but personally, it was starting to feel normal. She’d been saying it forever—practically conditioning me.

“Let’s go… Um, well.”

“Hm?”

Rinka’s gaze lingered on my arm, her own inching closer before pulling back hesitantly. “What’s up?”

“…W-would it be okay to… link arms? It feels couple-date-like, I think.”

“…”

“Kazuto?”

“I think it’s fine.”

After a brief pause, Rinka smoothly linked her arm with mine. Thinking back, our first date had me nervous just holding hands. Linking arms still sparked nerves, but I could stay calm. We’d spent that much time together.

At the shopping center, Rinka glanced at the directory, muttered, “There,” and strode forward confidently. I didn’t ask where we were going, letting her lead, excited to see her destination. For the future, maybe something study-related? A bookstore seemed likely. Or, knowing Rinka, perhaps furniture for when we’d live together.

My guesses were shattered when she led me to a store filled with baby products—strollers, cribs, the works. My face burned with embarrassment. “Let’s go, Kazuto.”

“No way…”

No other customers were around, thankfully, but the thought of a clerk seeing us made my stomach churn. Ignoring my hesitation, Rinka, arm still linked with mine, marched in confidently. Why was she never shy in moments like this? So bold, except with direct affection.

Examining strollers, she murmured, “This one’s nice… but this is cute too… This might be for boys. Oh, this one lets you see the baby’s face,” her smile soft as she tested their feel. I trailed behind, too embarrassed, like a child dragged along.

Suddenly, Rinka gasped and turned to me. “Sorry, Kazuto. I didn’t ask for your opinion…”

“No, it’s fine. But isn’t this a bit early for us?”

“You’re right… I got ahead of myself.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Cribs come first.”

“That’s not it.”

We moved to the crib section, where various types—different materials, adjustable heights, foldable designs—lined the aisles. I had no idea how to choose. Rinka pondered too. A woman in her forties, a clerk, approached with a friendly smile.

“Is something troubling you?”

“…We’re preparing for the future and came to study, but we don’t know how to choose…” Rinka answered softly, likely to avoid recognition.

The clerk nodded empathetically. “By the way, when did you two get married?”

“Two years ago.”

“Oh, I see. Pardon me, are you university students?”

“No, we’re not.”

“Right, my apologies. You look so young…”

“We’re still in our second year of high school.”

“…Huh?”

The clerk’s surprised noise hung in the air, but Rinka’s composure held, and the clerk, matching her calm, smiled again without pressing further. “You’re already thinking about kids, then.”

“Yes. It might be early, but my husband loves children, so…”

“Oh my. In that case, I have recommendations, but let’s consider twins too.”

“Twins… Understood.”

“This stroller allows them to sit side by side—”

Rinka listened intently, leaving me no room to chime in. I stood a few steps back, nodding vaguely, my cheeks burning. Just thinking about kids with Rinka made my head feel like it was boiling.

“Your husband’s quite energetic at night, isn’t he?”

“Yes… He sometimes doesn’t let me sleep…”

“Oh my! Then it’s only a matter of time.”

I zoned out, unable to bear it. They were talking about online games—late-night sessions, that’s all. But the clerk clearly thought otherwise.

☆

Evening fell by the time we returned home. After the clerk’s advice, Rinka had said, “I want to learn more. Not just baby products, but the size of our house matters too,” her face serious as we left. So committed to our future, her thoughts transcended mere romance.

“Hm?”

A familiar black car was parked in front of my house. As we passed, Kiyokawa stepped out.

“I’ve been waiting.”

“Kiyokawa?”

“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.”

“Huh?”

A breeze swept through. Pointing at me, she declared in a quiet voice, “I challenge you to a rematch.”

“Rematch?”

“Yes. A final battle, with everything on the line.”

☆

“…Onii? You spacing out? Get serious.”

“Oh, uh… sorry.”

Risuzu’s voice snapped me back to the PC screen. I gripped the mouse, refocusing. I’d zoned out during a match with her. After Kiyokawa’s challenge, I’d been roped into practicing with Risuzu, who was fuming after getting PK’d in Black Plains and wanted to sharpen her skills for revenge. Her opponent was a mid-tier veteran, but with Risuzu’s talent, she’d likely surpass them soon. She was training hard, after all.

“…Lost again… Tch.”

Risuzu clicked her tongue, defeated by me once more. Experience aside, our character and gear differences made my victory inevitable.

“…Onii, why were you spacing out? Were you going easy on me?”

“Sorry, sorry. That’s not it.”

My mind drifted to Kiyokawa’s rematch. “A final battle…” I muttered.

“Yes, a final battle,” she’d said. “I’m not satisfied with what happened at the culture festival.”

That hadn’t felt like a real contest—Kiyokawa just admitted defeat and did a handstand lap around the field.

“I want to face you in your strongest field.”

“My strongest field?”

“Yes. That’s how one’s true worth is measured…”

“My strongest field is online games, though.”

“That’s fine. Black Plains, was it? Can players fight each other?”

“Yeah.”

“Understood. I’ll practice until the day of the match.”

“No, a bit of practice won’t cut it. It’d take two or three years… maybe more against me.”

“Hehe, you’re quite confident.”

“Well, yeah… most of my life has been online games.”

Since meeting Rinka, my gaming time had dwindled, but my skills, honed over years, remained sharp. Kiyokawa, an Ojou-sama idol, likely knew of online games but hadn’t played them seriously.

“Honestly, it might be a waste of time…”

“Oh?”

“You’re a pro idol, so you get it, right? Overcoming years of experience isn’t easy.”

“Indeed. But my goal isn’t to beat you—it’s to face you in your domain and assess you.”

“I think the match will end before you can assess anything.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

No matter what I said, Kiyokawa remained unfazed. It felt like beginner-hunting. “How about next Saturday night?”

“…”

A week to master Black Plains? She was underestimating it. She might grasp the basics, but not PvP. Before I could point this out, she got in her car and left.

“…Level and gear differences make it tough,” I murmured.

It wouldn’t even be a contest. Kiyokawa, likely new to serious gaming, couldn’t fathom the gap. I debated going easy on her.

“Hmm, what to do… I want Kiyokawa to enjoy online games too. I don’t want her to quit after losing to me.”

Some beginners, crushed in defeat, rage “Trash game!” and quit. “…Onii, you’re kinda famous in Black Plains,” Risuzu said, lying on my bed, tinkering with her laptop.

“Huh?”

“…I searched ‘Black Plains Kazu,’ and a bunch of videos came up.”

“Oh, yeah. Some old friends were into streaming or recording.”

“…Solo fights, guild wars, player-run tournaments… Lots of stuff.”

“Kinda embarrassing to be seen.”

“…The tournament one, fourth place. Not first… Heh.”

“Don’t mock me. The opponents were really good. I was confident, but I felt the talent gap.”

Top-tier players made moves I couldn’t comprehend, every action laced with calculated strategy. “I’m invincible among casuals, I guess.”

“…Casuals. Online game casuals… Heh.”

“Don’t mock online games!”

“Eek!”

My sudden shout made Risuzu yelp and jump. “…No way. Getting mad? Seriously? That’s scary. Scary online game addict,” she muttered. Embarrassed, I changed the subject.

“Just hypothetically.”

“…?”

“What do you think about challenging someone on their turf to understand them?”

“…Fine, I guess. It’s one way to do it.”

“What if you’re inexperienced and guaranteed to lose instantly?”

“…Then it’s… pointless. Just a futile fight.”

“Right?”

Kiyokawa probably didn’t get online games. She might think they were simple fun for anyone. They were, but at higher levels, it was a different story.

“…If it were me, I’d pretend to be a newbie and stream crushing cocky players.”

“That’s mean.”

“…But it’s popular content. Gets lots of views.”

“Humans are sad creatures.”

“…Cocky players are the problem…!”

“Everyone gets a bit cocky sometimes. It’s fine.”

“…Cockiness that hurts others isn’t.”

“Coming from you, that’s weird.”

Pot calling the kettle black, maybe.

“…Why ask me that?”

“Just curious. No big reason.”

“…Okay. Then train me already. Make me strong enough to crush that jerk so bad they can’t play again. I’ll stream it and ruin them socially.”

“…That’s too extreme.”

As her brother, I had to steer her from going too far. There were more fun ways to play Black Plains. I’d show Kiyokawa too—the joy of online games. Playing together would be a blast! Imagining a bright future, I couldn’t stop grinning.

At that moment, I never imagined facing Kiyokawa would bring the greatest despair of my life.

☆

As the time to face Kiyokawa neared, I launched Black Plains and prepared. She’d chosen Treasure Dark Realm, a cave-like dungeon, dimly lit, crawling with horror-themed monsters. The trickiest was the Mummy Man—low HP but appearing in groups, their attacks randomly inflicting status ailments like poison or paralysis. Get surrounded, and you’re pummeled with ailments until death. A late-game dungeon, so Kiyokawa must’ve grinded hard this week. Was she managing her idol work?

A login sound chimed through voice chat, and I saw AYANE had joined, her name in bold caps—trying a bit hard, I thought.

“Senpai, thank you for accepting my challenge.”

“No problem. …Also, I want to play online games with you.”

“With me?”

“Yeah. You probably know, but Nana, Risuzu, Rinka, and even Nonoa-chan play. It’d be fun together.”

“Hmm… Then let’s make a deal. If you beat me, I’ll keep playing online games.”

“Deal.”

Not much of a deal—she sounded like she’d play anyway. “I have one request.”

“What’s that?”

“May I strike the first blow to start the match?”

“…”

I paused. The first strike in PvP was critical, often deciding the outcome. My Warrior was built to take hits, though. Against a beginner with just a week’s experience, I wouldn’t lose. Stats alone ensured that. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

Fwoosh—for a split second, I thought I heard Kiyokawa chuckle. An arrow shot from my blind spot, slamming into Kazu and sending him flying with a gust of wind. What! She was already here!? No time to react—I was blown into a corner swarming with Mummy Men. Kazu was surrounded instantly. I tried to activate an attack skill, but another arrow hit from afar, paralyzing him. Worst-case scenario.

The Mummy Men closed in, pummeling Kazu, my HP chipping away as ailments stacked. This might be bad, I thought. A player appeared at the screen’s edge—a blonde elf with a bow, named AYANE, as expected.

AYANE aimed and unleashed a barrage of skill arrows. My HP dropped by a tenth—not fatal, but shocking. The damage went through. Our stats might be closer than I thought. Impossible.

“Surprised?”

“Uh, wha… No, that’s not right.”

“Hehe.”

As the paralysis faded and I tackled the Mummy Men, another paralyzing arrow locked me again. A kill trap. AYANE’s steady attacks pushed Kazu toward death. This didn’t make sense—damage shouldn’t hit like this. I clicked AYANE’s info: her level, gear, and enhancements matched Kazu’s.

“What! Kiyokawa, did you buy an account!?”

“As if I’d do that. I raised this character with care.”

“No way! You can’t do that in a week!”

“Heh… Who said I raised it in a week?”

“W-what… But you’re a beginner…”

“Haha!”

“Kiyokawa?”

“How foolish! I never said I was a beginner!”

“Wha—”

Her words stunned me. She’d never called herself a beginner or mentioned playing Black Plains. Had she avoided it on purpose? As Kazu’s HP dipped below half, dread swelled.

In a heavy, quiet voice, Kiyokawa revealed, “—I’m an online game addict too.”

“What…”

“Well, ‘addict’ might be strong since idol work is my main focus. But compared to regular people, I’m… an online game addict, you could say.”

“You… play online games too?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

A golden arrow from AYANE pierced Kazu’s chest, wiping out nearby Mummy Men but dropping my HP to thirty percent. “Since middle school, every day without fail.”

“Middle school—same time as Rinka?”

“Yes, exactly. Same time as Rinka-senpai… Same time, I started!”

Her shout rang in my ears. AYANE tossed a Lure Incense, drawing all nearby monsters. Kazu, just freed from paralysis, was surrounded again, beaten relentlessly, locked by ailments.

“Too clean…”

“Of course. Everything was for this battle. Years of playing online games, acting like a fool at the culture festival… all to take revenge on you.”

“What are you talking about…”

“Still don’t get it? I acted clueless to make you underestimate me. To make you think I was a silly girl who couldn’t strategize. I didn’t care about your character or worth. I just wanted payback.”

Speechless, I didn’t understand, but I felt blamed for something I hadn’t done. “There was one miscalculation, though. Risuzu-san’s impulsive actions. When Rinka-senpai asked about lovers’ sweet-sourness, I planned to embarrass you a bit, but Risuzu-san ruined it. Well, it didn’t affect my main plan, so it’s fine.”

“I seriously don’t get it. Revenge for what? Why go this far…?”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t!”

Kiyokawa laughed softly, paused, and said, “Because you stole Rinka-senpai from me.”

“Huh—?”

“I was supposed to be the one supporting Rinka-senpai! Then you showed up and captivated her! In no time, you became her pillar!”

Her ferocious shout left me reeling. I thought it was just cute jealousy, but her feelings ran deeper—a grudge. “I… I was so looking forward to playing online games with Rinka-senpai!”

“Then just invite her normally—”

“Shut up!”

“Whoa.”

“You, a guy, wouldn’t understand these complex emotions!”

“Uh…?”

“When I learned Rinka-senpai started online games, I secretly started too. I trained to become someone who could support her in-game, then meet her there… to be her pillar.”

“Kiyokawa…”

I understood, just a little—wanting to show someone you admire not your flawed self but someone who could protect them.

“But you became Rinka-senpai’s pillar first!”

“No, you’re pretty strong now. You can play with Rinka from now on—”

“Shut up!”

“Why?”

“You crude guys don’t get it. Mood and timing are incredibly important! How you meet can drastically shape your future relationship!”

“Is that… how it works?”

I didn’t get it. “All I wanted was to be Rinka-senpai’s pillar and call her Rinka-oneesama!”

“Just call her that normally. Rinka would probably—”

“Shut up, baldie!!”

“Baldie!?”

“Die, you filthy male!!”

A divine, massive light arrow shot from AYANE, incinerating the Mummy Men and slamming into Kazu with a crisp explosion. My HP emptied instantly. I lost before I could process it.

“Yes! I did it! I finally killed Kazu! Woo!!”

Her celebration was anything but an Ojou-sama idol’s—hardly even girlish. My mood sank to subzero.

“…Feel better?”

“Oh, absolutely! So refreshed!”

“Good…”

“What? Oh, are you not satisfied with this outcome?”

“Of course not. Losing like this… I can’t accept it.”

“But it was a match in your strongest field, right?”

“Match? It was just me getting attacked by Mummy Men and AYANE.”

“That was my strategy. I acted like a fool in real life to lower your guard and used my image to make you think I was a beginner. A perfect plan. My victory.”

I underestimated her. If I’d been cautious, I wouldn’t have allowed the first strike. Her convoluted strategy, almost foolish, had played me perfectly. Still, it didn’t feel like a real defeat.

“I admit your strategy won. But I don’t think I lost on skill.”

“Hmm, I see.”

“You knew you couldn’t win on skill, so you came up with that plan, right?”

I couldn’t hold back the taunt. Losing in online games ignited a fire in my core. Swallowing hard, I suppressed the urge to roar.

“I understand your feelings. So, what do you want to do?”

“One more match.”

“Oh? A true duel is once only, but… fine.”

“Good—”

“But there’s a condition.”

“Condition?”

“Yes. Come at me with everything. No excuses.”

“…Yeah, no need to tell me.”

I wouldn’t lose again. Even with equal stats, my skill should outshine hers. Unlike me, Kiyokawa split her focus between games and idol work. Losing here was unthinkable.

This time, we faced off in a straight duel. I charged at AYANE, fueled by a fighting spirit I hadn’t felt in years. She dodged effortlessly. Most of my attacks missed; the few that landed did negligible damage. Every critical hit was evaded. AYANE’s precise strikes hit me repeatedly, as if she read my every move. The skill gap was stark.

“Ah—”

My mind blanked midway. I moved Kazu on autopilot, watching my defeat unfold. As his HP emptied, I hung my head. Kiyokawa, reading my moves perfectly, had beaten me like it was a chore. Beyond frustration, I was stunned.

“You… are weak.”

“Tch.”

“Your PvP tactics are a mess. Your intentions are obvious, your skill choices predictable. Did you even grasp my range? Honestly, I’m disappointed.”

“Ugh, ah…”

“You thought you’d win in a fair fight? Then why is Kazu down?”

“Agh!”

“I didn’t even need a strategy for someone like you. It felt like killing a random monster!”

Her cold, mocking words pierced my brain. “Let me say it… You have zero online game talent!”

“Zero—?”

“You don’t deserve to call yourself an online game addict!”

What’s an online game addict qualification? I’d never want one. But her words hit like a denial of my existence. My vision darkened, Kiyokawa’s cackling fading into the distance.