"Welcome home~"
Seeing Kyousuke's face light up like winter thawing into spring, with a smile as warm as early blooming flowers, Sakura tilted her head slightly, lips curling up in satisfaction.
Her eyes sparkled with pride.
She'd been looking forward to saying that to Kyousuke after he came home probably even more than she realized.
"But Sakura… why did you come running out of the kitchen? Were you sneaking food?"
Kyousuke asked as he swapped his shoes for slippers.
"Of course not! How could you even think that? You know we're getting checkups today, I obviously wouldn't eat before that! That's just rude."
Yeah… but this is Yamauchi Sakura we're talking about.
Predictability is not her strong suit.
"Then what were you doing in the kitchen?"
"Making breakfast, obviously~" she replied cheerfully, all traces of indignation gone. Her ponytail bounced behind her as if echoing her mood.
…Yep. That's Yamauchi Sakura for you—always doing things her own way.
She was probably just too excited about moving into their new place to sit still, Kyousuke guessed.
He couldn't blame her, he'd been so wired the previous morning that he'd barely slept and even considered giving the whole place a deep clean.
Still, breakfast could wait until after the checkup.
It'd taste just as good even if they had it later.
"It's a special breakfast made with love, just for you~" Sakura interrupted his thoughts with a grin.
"Huh? But we're supposed to fast before the checkup."
"Exactly—so just don't go!"
"…What?"
Kyousuke froze mid-step on his way upstairs to shower.
How did things take such a weird turn?
He was the kind of person who always kept appointments punctuality from birth.
"Come on, just skip it. Eat the amazing breakfast your dear Sakura-sama made for you, then go do something productive."
"Or are you seriously going to waste the very first meal I've made in our new home? Besides, you're acting like I'm sick or something, making me nervous for no reason."
Sakura launched into her rant without pause, leaving Kyousuke no room to argue, practically shoving him into the kitchen.
"Don't be silly, it's just a routine checkup. We've done it like a hundred times since we were kids."
Kyousuke shifted his weight slightly forward, and Sakura, who had been pushing him from behind, ended up moonwalking in place.
"No means no! Go do your work and win that Nobel Prize in Literature already!"
"Then, in your acceptance speech, thank Sakura-sama for making you write movie reviews since you were little!"
"You're the head of the household now—you can't slack off like this."
"I've heard the publisher's been asking you to do signing events, right? A hardworking man is the most attractive. Keep this up, and you'll be a greasy middle-aged uncle before you know it!"
"And Shou-chan and I aren't little kids anymore, okay? Let us keep some of our JK secrets. Look, even Shou-chan's embarrassed. Right, Shou-chan~?"
Unable to move Kyousuke with brute force, Sakura turned to reinforcements, trying to recruit Shouko, who had just walked in from the garden.
"Umm…"
Shouko glanced from Sakura to Kyousuke and back again. After a moment of hesitation, she gave a small nod.
"…Sakura, are you scared?"
Kyousuke gently placed his hands on her shoulders and bent down slightly, peering into her bright morning eyes.
Her expression and tone were cheerful as ever, but there was something about the scent of morning dew around her—it had changed slightly, like it was bracing for the rising sun.
"Pffft—hahaha!"
Sakura blinked, then suddenly struck an exaggerated, dramatic pose, like an actress on stage.
"Kyousuke, what nonsense are you spouting? Sure, some parts of the checkup are a bit painful, but I'm not a kid! I'm not scared of some silly little jab."
"Then why?" Why are you trying so hard to stop me from going with you? Is it really just about 'JK secrets'?
Shouko once stressed over a joke about gaining weight.
Could Sakura be the same? Could that idiot Sakura actually care about things like that?
Thinking back, the last time they had checkups, Sakura suddenly said she wanted dorayaki from Suimon City.
He thought she genuinely had a craving, but maybe she just wanted to get rid of him…?
Had her teenage awkward phase already started back then?
The realization hit Kyousuke like discovering a new continent—this Sakura, who once proudly announced her breast development to him, might actually be shy now?
Weirdly, it made him feel like a proud dad.
"Eating before a checkup affects the results. But me going with you—does that affect the results?"
"Well… no."
"But like you said, I'm anxious."
"If I'm not at the hospital, I can't see how you're doing. I can't hear right away that you're okay. That makes me so nervous I can't even sit still."
"…Fine. But you have to tell me the results as soon as you get back. And let me see all the data—not just the stuff that's 'JK secret'."
"Ugh! Numbers are a girl's biggest secret!" Sakura pouted.
"All the more reason I should go with you."
"Okay, okay! Sakura-sama will show mercy and let you indulge your curiosity about high school girls!"
"Thanks so much," Kyousuke said sarcastically. But truthfully, Sakura's playful chaos had completely erased his earlier worries about not going with them.
"Hehehe~"
Sakura, who was either laughing or stirring up trouble at all hours, giggled proudly.
"Good morning, Kyousuke-kun."
Finally sensing a pause in the chaos, Nishimiya Shouko chimed in with a soft greeting.
"Good morning, Shouko. It's still pretty chilly out in the garden—be careful not to catch a cold."
Kyousuke noticed the specks of dirt on her hands and gently patted her head.
"Mm-hmm~"
Shouko closed her eyes and smiled like she was savoring the moment. What a lovely start to the day—getting a head pat from Kyousuke right after waking up.
"Where's Naoka?" Kyousuke looked around.
No sign of her signature long legs.
Still asleep? But Naoka wasn't the type to sleep in when everyone else was up—not like the airhead Sakura.
"She went to take out the trash," Shouko replied.
"Hardworking as always."
Kyousuke and Sakura said in unison.
After a shower and a change into fresh shorts and a T-shirt, Kyousuke came downstairs to find Naoka already seated on the living room couch.
"Welcome home, Naoka."
"Good morning, Kyousuke."
Ueno Naoka responded with a warm smile, clearly unfazed by Kyousuke's quirky habit of treating everything like a grand return.
From the kitchen, Sakura emerged with a plate of golden, fluffy soufflé pancakes.
Kyousuke recognized them instantly, they were the only dessert she could make, and nearly impossible to mess up.
Just whip the egg whites and mix them with the other ingredients. Simple.
"Delicious! Can we add this to the regular breakfast menu?"
He gave her a thumbs-up, recognizing the unspoken "Praise me!" written all over her face.
"Hehe~ But don't eat too many sweets~" Sakura replied playfully, grabbing her backpack from the couch.
Shouko and Naoka also picked up their bags.
"Need me to call a cab?"
"No, no! That's way too extravagant. Being frugal is part of a girl's charm, you know," Sakura said breezily, with Shouko and Naoka nodding in agreement.
Clearly, this was pre-planned.
"Well then, how about dinner in Ginza tonight to celebrate surviving the checkup?"
Kyousuke stood up with a smile.
"Wow, Kyousuke, you really are turning into a rich middle-aged man!"
Sakura shouted exaggeratedly, gripping the straps of her blue backpack as she turned back to look at him.
"You little..." Kyousuke's forehead was lined with imaginary stress marks.
"Sakura said we're going shopping after the checkup, so you'll have to eat dinner alone today, Kyousuke-kun," Shouko added quietly, now wearing her sneakers.
"Take it easy today, okay? You've been working non-stop lately," Naoka smiled gently.
Between publishing a new book, renovating the house, graduating, and moving—what should have been a laid-back final semester had been anything but restful.
"Haha, thanks for worrying about me. I've been taking care of myself, promise."
Standing at the gate, Kyousuke waved goodbye to the three girls.
The station was less than 400 meters away.
A quick ride on the Yurakucho Line, then a transfer to the Namboku Line, and they'd arrive at the Tokyo Medical University Health Checkup Center in under thirty minutes.
———————————————————————
"Sakura, why didn't you let Kyousuke-kun come along for the checkup?"
The three girls walked side by side along the sidewalk, and Shouko finally voiced her confusion.
She had really wanted Kyousuke-kun to come with them not because the checkup mattered, but because being with him did.
Still, with Sakura so insistent, all she could do was silently apologize to Kyousuke-kun in her heart.
"Yeah, we don't even get a refund for canceling last-minute," Naoka said, clearly still feeling the sting.
"Oh come on, just think of it as me being a little selfish, alright? I'll treat everyone to ramen tonight after shopping!"
Sakura shrugged it off with her usual playful defiance.
Sakura...
Just like earlier, even though her doubts hadn't been answered—if anything, they'd grown deeper—Shouko kept quiet.
Kyousuke's obsession with regular checkups had always felt a bit… off.
It wasn't unheard of for wealthy people to cherish life a bit more, clinging to it because they hadn't enjoyed enough of their riches yet.
But according to what Sakura once told her, even as a kid, Kyousuke would skip an entire year's allowance just to make sure both of their families went to health checkups together.
It wasn't that normal people don't value their lives, it's just… are there really people that scared of dying?
Was that the kind of person Kyousuke was?
Shouko didn't think so.
When she was near him, nothing seemed impossible. Life itself felt full of hope.
Someone like Kyousuke, who gave the people around him the strength to move forward, wouldn't be scared of death itself.
No... what he feared was probably something else entirely.
Maybe... Sakura.
Maybe... me.
Just as that thought popped into her head, Shouko couldn't help giggling like a fool.
The idea that she was one of the people Kyousuke feared losing most—it made her feel like she was drowning in sweetness, a sugary happiness so intense it could rot teeth.
"Shouko, we're getting on." Naoka tugged gently on her arm, snapping her out of her daze.
"O-oh!" It was like the red fantasy bubble above her head had popped—Shouko scrambled to board the subway.
———————————————————————
Watching the three girls disappear down the street, Kyousuke let out a sigh that seemed to clear a strange tightness in his chest and turned back toward the house.
"So lonely~~" He said it aloud, shamelessly, because no one was there to hear him.
Sure, he could now officially call himself a novelist, but silence didn't suit him.
He much preferred a house filled with the laughter of teenage girls.
Like the sound of cicadas in summer, that noisy background was what made the season real. Calendars, weather forecasts, and sweaty clothes just didn't compare.
He closed the door behind him.
The pricey soundproofing he'd invested in definitely worked, which only made the quiet more unbearable.
Thank goodness for Sakura's pancakes.
Carrying the plate outside, Kyousuke sat cross-legged in front of the maple tree in the yard.
As he took a bite of the fluffy, golden soufflé pancakes, his eyes closed in bliss.
The soft texture, the sweetness—it was like a hug for the soul. Truly, desserts were the best invention of humankind. All hail sugar.
Somewhere behind him, Mrs. Takemura was scolding her son again—apparently, he'd skipped cram school to go play soccer.
A car sped down the narrow street.
Hey, idiot! It's a residential road—drive like that again and I'll revoke your citizenship!
Random thoughts bounced around in his head.
When the plate was empty, he laid back on the grass, hands behind his head.
The cherry tree in the corner of the yard wasn't showing any signs of blooming yet.
Unlike the other street-side trees, this one—called Haru no Higan—was a descendant of the famous Jindai-zakura from Yamanashi Prefecture.
Being the offspring of a legend came with a certain level of aloofness.
While Tokyo's Somei Yoshino were already preparing to bloom by mid-March, this one wouldn't bother until well into April.
Guess it's lazier than me.
Basking in the sun, Kyousuke chuckled at his own thought. Eight in the morning—the perfect time to sunbathe.
Low UV, rich in infrared. Lie here long enough and it might just add a few years to your life.
No, no, stay focused. Think about what Sakura said. Think about your to-do list.
How can you even think of napping right now?
Actually, there was a lot to do.
There were publisher events to coordinate, an application to join the Japanese Mystery Writers Association.
The launch of an anime studio, picking which of his manga and novels to adapt, and the promise he made to Eriri to write a pure, heartwarming romance novel.
His publisher was currently submitting The Devotion of Suspect X for various awards.
For the Edogawa Rampo Prize, the novel had to be unpublished—which made sense, since the publisher footing the prize money wanted exclusive rights.
Then there were the survey-based rankings like This Mystery is Amazing!, Bunshun Mystery Best 10, and Mysteries You Want to Read—all key to the publisher's promotional plans.
That's where he came in.
These rankings were voted on not only by fellow authors in the association, but also critics, journalists, and bookstore staff.
Which was exactly why he needed to join the damn association.
Japan was a nation ruled by organizations, from big-name agricultural unions and neighborhood councils to legit broadcasting unions... and the sweet red bean paste society.
Yes, both Kyousuke and Yamauchi Sakura were members of the Red Bean Paste Society.
Shouko had been roped in too, naturally.
Why did they join?
"Through red bean paste, we want people everywhere to feel the unconditional and infinite love of their families and loved ones."
"To live life with a smile as sweet as an anko-filled treat."
That was the society's mission. For two dessert lovers, it was love at first sight.
In short—if you want to win awards, better start with joining the right clubs.
Attending book signings and other public events was all about winning favor from critics, journalists, and bookstore staff—the ones holding the votes that actually mattered.
But seriously, would these signings, which only created headaches for store clerks, really earn their support?
Even if the books sold out, it's not like their bosses were going to give them a bonus or anything.
"But we do give them a thank-you gift, and we send over presents too," came the voice of Akamatsu Yuuki, Kyousuke's editor, on the other end of the call.
"Anyway, Kyousuke-sensei, I assume you've had enough rest by now, right? Please decide on a date for the signing event as soon as possible."
"…Didn't we just print a new batch that hasn't sold out yet? Is there really any rush?"
Even though he had braced himself before making the call, Kyousuke still found the whole thing hard to get excited about.
A rare day off should be spent watching movies at home with Sakura and the others—not stuck at some crowded event hall.
"If you manage to snag just one of those awards, the reprint contract will land on your doorstep the very next day."
"You might even be able to buy a second house on the spot," Akamatsu replied casually.
Ugh…
The moment she hit that nerve, Kyousuke whose bank account balance had recently dipped below a humiliating "2" at the front—caved.
He gave her the signing date and even told her to schedule as many sessions as she wanted.
Compared to countries where print publishing had already gone downhill, Japan still felt like a haven.
After hanging up, he opened his phone and checked the memo where he tracked his income and expenses.
He had to figure out where all that money had gone, he could've sworn he had loads not long ago.
The income hadn't changed: five hundred million yen from two manga volumes and merchandise, another three hundred million from his novel.
Before buying the house, he'd already spent over fifty million on various things.
Then came the house itself—350 million yen—followed by 200 million for renovations and furniture…
So now he was down to just 250 million yen.
If a sudden earthquake hit and leveled his place, he wouldn't even have enough to buy a similar house again.
'I'm broke! Kyousuke, you've been way too lazy! You were dreaming of buying multiple homes—what now, a ten-square-meter bachelor apartment?'
And then there was the anime studio.
If they didn't turn a profit soon, would they have to resort to producing those stiff, awkward-looking 3D animations where characters walk like mutated creatures?
Sure, there were mutants in the manga, but that didn't mean the animation should literally look like that!
At the very least, even if each episode cost the full 20 million yen to make, they couldn't go under 15 million.
Were they really going to air half a season and then tell fans to wait until funding came through for the rest?
'I'm so poor.'
The deeper he dug, the more terrifying it became.
Kyousuke was truly shaken by how broke he actually was.
No, this wouldn't do.
His youth—his glorious, Kyousuke-style youth—was just beginning.
He couldn't let himself be dragged down by money problems.
He still had to get Sword Art Online in front of the otaku masses! They'd probably been waiting forever already!
Snapping himself out of it, Kyousuke called Kisaki Tetta to have him come over and pick up the manuscript copies.
Then he went back to the living room and turned on the projector.
He'd already fulfilled Sakura's request to work hard—now it was time to honor Naoka's concern and properly relax.
Today, he was going to finish the rest of the Home Alone movies. Oh, and he'd have Kisaki bring over some soda and snacks, too.