Chapter 17: Problem

It’s strange how things work out sometimes.

Back when I was seriously practicing the game, I always felt like I was hitting my limits, but just by playing with Toudou, I somehow breezed right past those walls without even realizing it.

Does that kind of thing really happen?

In our usual classroom, Toudou nodded from the seat behind mine, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “So that can happen, huh? That’s pretty weird.”

I felt the same, but the words stayed lodged in my throat. Toudou and I didn’t talk much in class—not out of some explicit agreement, just an unspoken understanding that had settled between us.

Even after she invited me to the beach, the intellectual gyaru group still gathered in their usual corner, their chatter a lively hum. I’d catch their glances now and then, but since it was Toudou Mashiro who’d singled me out, it never sparked open gossip. I almost wanted to thank her—Toudou Mashiro-sama, as I jokingly thought of her—but she was the one who’d dragged me into this in the first place.

What would happen if I told her something like, “Playing games with you made me better without even noticing”? Would she beam with pride, or would that smug side of her take over? Knowing her, she’d probably flash that terrifying smile of hers and snap, “Don’t call me ‘you’ like that.” But then, maybe, she’d laugh it off, her eyes softening.

Wait—why was I even thinking about this? Something was off. I wasn’t the type to get caught up in thoughts like these. Maybe it was the buzz of summer break creeping closer, stirring something restless in me. The rainy season had finally lifted, leaving nothing but clear, vibrant skies that made it impossible not to feel a little upbeat, whether I wanted to or not.

Lately, everything had been calm—almost too calm. But that’s how it always goes, isn’t it? When things seem peaceful, that’s when trouble tends to sneak up. Or maybe the problems were there all along, and I’d just been too distracted to notice.

Lost in my fantasies, I realized my imagination was failing me now. Honestly, it was kind of pathetic.

＊

As I trudged down the hallway after school, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting the usual, but Toudou’s message caught me off guard. “I can’t come over to play at your place today either, Kuroki-kun,” it read.

“Hmm…” The sound slipped out, meaningless, as a tangle of emotions churned in my chest. It should’ve been normal—her not coming over—but why did it feel like a hollow ache had settled in my heart?

“Today either” meant yesterday too. Two days in a row without hanging out. Last year, we went a whole year without exchanging a single word, let alone gaming together. Yet now, just two days apart, and this strange dissatisfaction gnawed at me.

“What am I even thinking?” I muttered, shaking my head as I descended the stairs. This was beyond pathetic—it was downright unsettling. My thoughts were spiraling like I was some lovesick fool, as if Toudou and I were… dating or something.

“No way!” I blurted out, louder than intended. “I’m not misunderstanding anything like that! Absolutely not!”

At that exact moment, a first-year girl climbing the stairs froze, her eyes locking onto me with an intense stare. It was a complete disaster. I averted my gaze, pretending not to notice. Don’t end up like this second-year mess, I silently warned her, though you probably couldn’t even if you tried.

Once she passed, I mumbled under my breath, barely audible. “What am I doing…?”

I’d become gaming buddies with Toudou Mashiro, one of the most beautiful girls not just in our class but probably the entire country. We’d hung out multiple times, and somehow, my skills had leveled up because of it. She’d told me games were just for fun, yet here I was, overthinking it like it was life or death.

“Being around that girl messes me up…” I sighed. Toudou Mashiro’s influence was terrifying, like some modern-day enchantress. If I dared call her a witch out loud, I could already picture her glaring, snapping, “Call me a princess!” That’s how bad it was—she was seriously getting under my skin.

I trudged home alone, taking my time on the walk from school to my house, a journey of a few dozen minutes. I could’ve ridden a bike, but since I can’t fiddle with my phone while cycling, walking was the better choice. Plus, it gave me a chance to rack up progress in my location-based game.

As I entered the residential area, I spotted a tiny park squeezed between houses, and next to it, an equally small car parked snugly. What was it called again? I couldn’t recall. Some kind of mini car, painted a vivid red. I’d driven one in a game before, but seeing it in real life was different—it looked almost toy-like, smaller than I’d imagined.

Just as I was about to pass by, the driver’s side window slid down, and a man’s voice called out. “Hey, kid. Long time no see.”

“…?”

“Whoa, is your memory already failing you? Or are you only interested in Mashiro now?” he teased, stepping out of the car with a grin. He was a dandy older guy, dressed sharply in black tones, like a detective from some old drama. His amused expression softened the frown creasing his brow.

It clicked. “Ah, you’re Toudou’s uncle… the coffee…”

“Yeah, the cafe master,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a friendly smirk. My first impression of him had been that he was unapproachable, so this warmth caught me off guard.

Still, this was a strange turn of events. Why would Toudou’s uncle, the cafe master, track me down on my walk home? It felt like he’d been waiting for me.

“…Um, did something happen to Toudou?” The words spilled out before I could stop them, a reflex born of sudden worry.

It made sense, though. Why else would he be here unless something was wrong with Toudou Mashiro? Was she sick? Injured? Or, worse, caught up in some kind of trouble?

The master studied my face—probably paling by the second—with an entertained glint in his eyes before waving a hand dismissively. “Nah, nothing. Absolutely nothing. At least, not yet.”

Nothing? I’d worked myself up for no reason, and the embarrassment stung. But… “not yet”? Before I could press him, he continued.

“Even if there was something, that wouldn’t be a reason to come see you. You’re not family or anything.”

“…True.” He was right. To the Toudou family, I was just some guy. Thinking I had any significance was the real embarrassment.

“Don’t look so down. I’m kidding,” he said with a chuckle. “But—what if it was something family couldn’t handle?”

“Huh?”

“Say something did happen, and her family couldn’t fix it… then we’d turn to you, right? Or rather, if you were her boyfriend, I’d tell you to step up and do something about it.”

I shook my head so fast it nearly spun. “No, I’m not her boyfriend!”

“What? Don’t tell me Mashiro’s just being played with?” he said, his tone half-teasing, half-probing.

“That’s not it! I swear to heaven, no.”

“Then what is it? A guy and a girl meeting up alone on weekends, and you’re saying you’re just friends?”

“Not friends, exactly… We’re gaming buddies.” Not friends—gaming buddies. We met for a purpose, nothing more.

The master let out a low chuckle. “Buddies instead of friends, huh? That sounds even more like youth to me. Whatever. You—uh, what’s your name again? Sorry, once you hit a certain age, memory goes downhill.”

I recalled Toudou’s warning: “That guy has a curse where he only remembers pretty people’s names, so he’ll probably ask yours multiple times, but don’t mind it.”

“Kuroki You,” I answered.

“Right, Kuroki-kun. Got it. I’m Watarai Asahi. Nice to meet you. I’m Mashiro’s mom’s little brother. So, if her parents ever divorce, she might end up as Watarai Mashiro.” His pitch-black joke landed with a thud, not a hint of humor in it.

He extended a hand, and I shook it. His grip wasn’t forceful, but there was an undeniable strength in it, like it carried a quiet intensity.

I steered the conversation back, my curiosity tinged with unease. “So, does that mean something did happen to Toudou after all?”

Watarai-san’s expression shifted, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not that it happened—it’s happening now, and it looks like it’ll keep going. It’s not something family can solve, but we can’t just leave it alone either. That’s the uncle’s dilemma.”

“…?” His words left me grasping at air, confusion clouding my thoughts.

He opened the car door, gesturing for me to get in. “Her parents can’t handle it anymore, and it’s too much for me. So, the uncle figures the only option is to rely on Kuroki You-kun, who she seems to trust. Feel free to laugh at how pathetic that is. This old man’s heart is tough.”

Still not fully understanding, I slid into the car, the weight of his words settling uneasily in my chest.

A few minutes pass after the car starts moving, leaving the quiet residential streets behind as we merged onto the main road. I’d expected a small car like this to jostle uncomfortably, but the ride was surprisingly smooth. Watarai-san lit a heat-not-burn tobacco stick, the faint scent curling through the air as he began to speak, piecing together fragments of Toudou Mashiro’s life I’d never known.

“Originally, Mashiro had no interest in the entertainment world. My big sis—her mom—was a stage actress, so it just kinda flowed that way. Sis always dreamed of being in the spotlight, and when I was a kid, she’d rope me into practicing lines with her. She’s got that pushy streak, you know.”

“Pushy…”

“So, entering that beauty contest was her mom’s idea too?” I asked.

“Yep, all Mom’s directive. But with looks like Mashiro’s? Even without that push, she’d have won prizes, gotten scouted by a big agency, landed commercials right away, gone viral—it snowballed fast, and her world flipped overnight. But she couldn’t handle it. She’s like me: considerate, shy with strangers, the type to wear themselves out worrying about others. Sensitive, you know.”

There were a dozen things I could’ve questioned, but one pressed harder. “Couldn’t handle it, meaning…?”

At school, Toudou laughed like she was having the time of her life, and when we gamed together, she seemed genuinely into it. She never came off as someone teetering on the edge.

“Mashiro’s been good at fooling herself since she was little. If someone took her toy, she’d shrug and say, ‘It’s fine, I was bored with it anyway, I’ll play with something else.’ So, she was a natural at acting—got that talent from her mom. But using it like that… it’s kinda sad.”

“Acting talent…” I murmured. Now that he mentioned it, I could recall moments that fit.

“At school, she’s probably playing the perfect people-pleaser, right?” he continued. “You’re at the same school, so you get it. Her expressions are polished, almost artificial. There’s no real emotion in them. It’s not like she’s looking down on anyone—she’s just… killing off her own self.”

“…I get it.” I’d thought Toudou’s smiles at school were flawless, but after gaming with her, I realized they were fake, too perfect. The real Toudou Mashiro—the selfish, expressive one who shifted moods in an instant—that was the version she showed me.

“So, by repeating that act over and over, Mashiro hit her limit,” Watarai-san said. “She kept fooling herself and pushing through for a while, but eventually, it broke her.”

The words sent a chill through me, but I had to know. “Broke her, meaning… what happened, exactly?”

“Lately, she hasn’t been going to her lessons. She’s constantly fighting with her mom, barely goes home anymore—just wanders. When she’s not at my shop, I have no clue where she is.”

The stair landing after school. My house. Those flashes crossed my mind, but this wasn’t the time to dwell on them. Another question burned brighter. “Toudou’s not going to her lessons…?”

That couldn’t be right. We’d made a promise—she’d attend those summer break lessons, in exchange, she’d been coming over to my place to hang out. Or… wait. Knowing Toudou, she’d probably snap back with, “I’ll go to the summer lessons, okay? But I’m not going on weekdays.”

There’s no reason for Watarai-san to lie to me. So does that mean Toudou really hasn’t been going to her lessons…? That she’s been skipping them to play games with me on the stair landing?

As if reading my spiraling thoughts, he spoke up. “It’s been about three months now, hasn’t it? Since she started skipping lessons. Or, wait, four months?”

Four months. That was even before we started gaming together. So, it wasn’t because of me—not directly, at least.

“I see…” I murmured, the realization hitting me like a sudden gust.

Toudou Mashiro. I’d always assumed she stumbled onto that stair landing because she was desperate to play games, and that’s how she crossed paths with someone like me—a gamer through and through. But what if that wasn’t the case? What if games were just something she latched onto while fleeing from something else? And I just happened to be there, offering her a convenient escape—a fixed place to hide. No, stop it. Dwelling on this would only taint my thoughts. I was always too quick to spiral into negativity.

But my mind wouldn’t let it go.

Just the other day, Toudou said, “I want to skip lessons because playing games is so fun.” Those were her words, weren’t they? That’s why I panicked. It felt too bold, too presumptuous for her to claim she enjoyed hanging out with me. I’d feel guilty if she was ditching lessons because of me. But what if that wasn’t the real reason? What if it wasn’t about the fun of playing with me, but about turning that stair landing into a refuge—a place where she could make something enjoyable out of her escape from lessons?

In other words, could it be the opposite? Was Toudou Mashiro not skipping lessons to play games with me, but using games—and me—as a way to forget her lessons entirely? A reason, an excuse, a way to fool herself into avoiding reality.

“…, …Tch.”

It felt like I’d dropped something precious, like the hollow ache of watching a close friend grow close to someone else. Not that Toudou Mashiro was to blame. If anyone was escaping reality, it was me, far more than her. I was the one who got carried away, let myself soar with hope, only to crash back down to earth.

“Hey, you okay? You went quiet all of a sudden.”

Watarai-san’s light nudge on my arm snapped me back to the present, saving me from the weight of those bitter thoughts threatening to crush my heart.

“Ah, no…” I stammered. “So, in a situation like that, what exactly do you want me to do?”

Watarai-san let out a hearty laugh, clearly amused. “I’m not telling you to ‘do’ anything. I just thought you’d want to, so I’m giving you the chance. In return, I’d like you to help out my niece—that’s my request. It’s a win-win for both of us, right, Kuroki-kun? This is what they call an adult negotiation.”

“Something I want to do…”

There was only one thing. I wanted to talk to Toudou, to understand what was going through her mind, to figure out if my spiraling thoughts were just delusions or the truth.

Hey, Toudou, whatever the reason, you really do like games, don’t you?

For those few weeks, she’d sat beside me, looking like she was genuinely enjoying herself. Yet I knew nothing about her. I’d been too busy wallowing in my own head—thinking about how we came from different worlds, how her cute face put her out of my reach, how a loner like me could never measure up to someone as vibrant as her. All just excuses.

I wanted to change.

“Watarai-san…” I began.

“Hm?”

“Do you know where Toudou is right now?”

As if he’d been waiting for those exact words, he pressed down on the accelerator, the car surging forward.

“Of course. This vehicle’s a direct express to Toudou Mashiro.”

＊

We pulled into a coin parking lot near Watarai-san’s café, the car’s engine humming to a stop. Stepping out, we walked the short distance to the café together, the evening air cool against my skin.

We arrived at the shop quickly, a “closed” sign dangling on the door.

“Come on, go in,” Watarai-san urged.

I pushed open the door, the loud jingle of the bell cutting through the quiet. From a booth seat, a familiar ash-blonde head poked out—Toudou Mashiro.

She was seated alone, her presence filling the space despite the dim lighting. The moment her eyes landed on me, they widened in surprise, only to narrow into a sharp glare directed at Watarai-san.

“…What is this, Ojisan?”

“Don’t call me Ojisan, call me Big Brother,” he teased, unfazed.

“Stop joking around. Why is Kuroki-kun here?”

“Because I thought that’d be best.”

With that cryptic reply, Watarai-san slipped toward the back of the shop, leaving just a few words hanging in the air.

And so, there we were—Toudou still seated in the booth, me lingering awkwardly at the entrance. The silence felt heavy, like I’d intruded on something private. To shake it off, I slid into the seat across from her.

She didn’t stop me, so I spoke up, words tumbling out before I could overthink them. “I don’t really get what’s going on. Watarai-san just… brought me here.”

It sounded like an excuse, but it was the truth. I didn’t want to hide that from her.

“Yeah, probably,” Toudou replied, her voice softer but tinged with unease. “Anyway, this turned into a weird vibe. Sorry, Kuroki-kun.”

“Nah, it’s probably my fault for showing up out of nowhere.”

“That’s not true. I was just… surprised. I didn’t think we’d meet today.”

Didn’t think we’d meet—such a casual phrase, yet it sent a quiet jolt through me. Toudou had this effortless charm, the kind that could sweep anyone away without her even trying. Her beauty, her presence—it was disarming.

Maybe that’s why I fumbled, spitting out words that sounded colder than I meant, like I was trying to keep some philosophical distance. “Well, maybe we’ve been hanging out too much lately. Might be good to dial it back a bit. If this becomes normal, my sense of things could get… messed up.”

Did it sound like I was pushing her away? Toudou’s lips pursed into a slight pout. “Huh? Why’re you suddenly saying stuff like that? Are you telling me not to come over?”

“No, that’s not what I mean…”

She let out a small sigh, her fingers fidgeting with her phone. The air grew heavier, and for a few minutes, we sat in silence, with the weight of unspoken words pressing down.

What should I say? If I say the wrong thing, it felt like something might break. But before I could find the words, Toudou spoke, her tone firm but not harsh.

“…Kuroki-kun, what did Ojisan say to you?”

Her eyes weren’t glaring, but there was a steadiness in them that told me I couldn’t dodge this. I didn’t want to, either. I needed to understand Toudou—what she was thinking, what I meant to her. Not in some weird way, but… I didn’t know anymore. I just wanted clarity.

But how do you ask something like that? I’d always run from these kinds of conversations. Still, I had to take a step forward.

“Toudou, about that… you’re not going to your lessons, are you?”

Her response came swiftly, almost defensive. “…I promised I’d go to the ones during summer break. It’s not summer break yet.”

Her lips pursed again, a flicker of dissatisfaction crossing her face.

Maybe because her answer was what I’d expected, the next words slipped out too easily. “What about before that? Haven’t you been skipping lessons? Not just the summer ones, but before we started playing games together. Were you even going to them back then…?”

“…That’s…”

Toudou’s gaze dropped, and suddenly, she looked small, fragile—like a child caught in a scolding.

That’s when I messed up. I thought I had it all figured out, that I was right. I let myself act superior, like some self-righteous pioneer, talking down to her. I knew better—back when I was part of a team, I’d been the mediator, the one who kept things fair. You don’t lecture a friend like that. But I did.

“Toudou, just one thing: playing games all the time won’t fix anything. Games might be fun, but someone like you has more important things to—”

“—What the heck!?”

“Huh?”

Her voice cut through, sharp and sudden. Coming from anyone else, it wouldn’t have hit as hard. But from Toudou, who was always so considerate, so aware of those around her, it felt like a jolt. She quickly lowered her volume, but the heat in her words lingered, simmering.

Toudou quickly adjusted her volume, but the heat in her words lingered, sharp and unyielding. “Why does everyone say stuff like that? ‘You’re special, so you have to do things differently.’ I don’t get it. I’m not special. I’m just a normal person. Everyone else is the one making me ‘special’…! I’m not special at all…!”

“No, that’s… not what I meant…”

But what did I mean? The words crumbled before I could piece them together, leaving me faltering, sinking into silence.

“…”

Toudou didn’t speak either. A chasm stretched between us, cold and vast. It was like a time-reversal spell had yanked me back months to that lonely classroom, earphones in, lost in games by myself. My breath felt heavy, my fingertips icy.

Even so, I forced out a voice. If I didn’t change, nothing would. “What I want to say is…”

But the words wouldn’t come. Something about my own thoughts felt wrong, like a high wall loomed in my heart, blocking the careless phrases I might’ve thrown out.

Toudou waited, her eyes steady, but as seconds bled into minutes of hollow silence, she shook her head faintly. “Kuroki-kun, it’s fine. Sorry. It’s my fault. You were just playing along, so there’s no need for you to carry anything more than that.”

“……, ……”

Pathetic. I couldn’t say a single thing. My feelings were still a mess, unformed. How could I hope to move Toudou Mashiro’s heart—someone clearly wrestling with her own troubles—when I couldn’t even sort out my own?

Her voice rose, sharp enough to carry to the back of the shop where I assumed Watarai-san lingered. “Ojisan, you’re the worst, calling Kuroki-kun at a time like this. I’m stunned. Apologize to him too, okay?”

Her words sliced through me like shards of ice, piercing deep and chilling my chest.

Toudou stood abruptly. “Kuroki-kun, I’m heading out. See you at school. Bye…”

She walked off, disappearing through the door alone, the bell’s jingle a faint echo in her wake.

I closed my eyes, her words replaying in my mind. See you at school—really? After this, would Toudou and I ever sit together, playing games like before? No way. There was nothing between us but those games. Without them, we’d have no reason to talk at school.

Watarai-san emerged, his movements exaggerated, almost theatrical. “Ahh, you made her mad.”

“It’s my fault…”

“Nah, it’s on me. Sorry, Kuroki-kun. Dragging you here out of the blue like this—yeah, no wonder you couldn’t find the words.”

Was there a weight to his words, or was I imagining it? He probably thought Toudou and I shared some deeper bond. But he was wrong. That was all there was to it.

I should go home. There was nothing left to do here. But one question nagged at me. “Watarai-san, what did Toudou mean by ‘at a time like this?’”

“Hm? Ah…” He flicked on his e-cigarette, exhaling casually as if it were no big deal. “Nee-chan—meaning Mashiro’s mother—and Mashiro had a huge fight last night about the future of her entertainment career. So today, she didn’t want to be at home and was taking refuge here in the café.”

“That’s even worse timing than I thought!”

Enough to make me retort to someone older without holding back.

Watarai-san didn’t seem offended. Instead, a low laugh rumbled in his throat, amused. “Kids these days are so naive. If it’s the worst, that means it can’t get any lower. So the next step’s basically guaranteed to be a win, right? You getting off here? Or are you gonna keep going? You gonna prove your feelings were only that shallow?”

What do you want to do? What is it you want? Watarai-san’s gaze was telling that story.

That night, I made up my mind.

I’d tell Toudou my honest feelings. That would surely be for the best for both of us.