"So, you want to turn our real first meeting into an anime?"
"Yeah," Eriri replied, her voice light but firm, offering only the back of her head to him.
"But if it's just that part, it can only be a short film at best."
"Idiot. Obviously the story doesn't stop there! You have to include everything that happened afterward—the useless manga artist and his genius assistant."
"Our late-night food adventures, and… and… the rosy high school life! Our very own youth-filled love story!"
"Anyway, all you need to do is turn the stories I tell you into scripts."
"I see…" Kyousuke rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
His original plan was to let Eriri polish her art skills a bit more, and give Shouko time to continue her voice acting training.
They would properly kick things off in high school.
But if Eriri was already this motivated, maybe it was time to speed things up.
The shell company they had registered would need real staff soon.
Kisaki probably couldn't handle all the recruiting but he'd have to find other channels.
As he silently calculated the steps ahead, a certain girl who seemed to treat the back of her head as her main face began slowly rotating at an almost comical angle, like a wind-up doll.
Bit by bit, her bright blue eyes peeked over her shoulder to sneak a glance at Kyousuke.
Was this really such a hard decision for him? Shouldn't it be fun?
Even when she had no idea how to draft a storyboard and felt like hurling her stylus at the screen in frustration.
Just knowing she was documenting their story made all the effort worth it. It filled her with joy. It gave her new motivation.
"If you don't want to do it, then fine! I can make it all on my own!"
Her fluffy bangs lifted slightly as she whipped her head back around, presenting her signature pouty back-of-the-head pose.
Hmph! This dummy!
She wasn't even going to have Aunt Yoshida from Mom's flower arranging group introduce anyone to him anymore.
"Hm?"
Hearing the exasperated voice, Kyousuke looked up and then down to see a small foot aggressively grinding into his yellow rubber balcony slippers, which were squeaking under the pressure like they were about to give out.
"Pffft—hahaha!"
"How dare you laugh! You're actually laughing?! You seriously think this is funny?!"
Her triple-question barrage hit like a slap.
"I never said I wouldn't do it," Kyousuke replied with a smile.
"I was just thinking about what we should name our studio. That's a pretty big decision, you know. I've been stressing about it so much, I can't even sleep properly."
There was no need to worry Eriri with the logistics of building a real studio.
If he needed help, he could always go through Spencer.
She should stay just like a fairytale princess—dreamy and carefree. She didn't need those kinds of headaches.
"O-Oh, I see…"
'Hehe… So he was already thinking about the studio's name? What a dummy!'
'That's easy—we just call it egoistic-lily! It's our studio, after all. No… wait… maybe it should be something deeper, more meaningful…'
"Well then," she said, spinning around and facing him like she was bestowing a royal favor.
"I'll graciously accept your commission. But don't forget, sleep is important—if you don't get enough, you'll stop growing."
"Got it, got it. I'll be counting on you, then." Kyousuke nodded with a smile.
"Speaking of which, aren't you growing a little too fast?" Eriri stood on tiptoes and measured the height difference between his chin and her head with a concerned frown.
"If you keep growing, the proportions in the anime are going to be all wrong! And I haven't even grown at all this past week… ugh!"
"Don't worry, don't worry. I think I stopped growing this break. I won't tower over you."
He saw right through her sulking, of course. Even if he did grow more later, he'd be careful not to let it show.
"Who asked you?!" she huffed, stomping away in her squeaky slippers, then kicking them off as she stepped back inside.
Kyousuke chuckled and shook his head. What a loveable idiot. He followed her in.
"Well, I'll be handling the script and storyboards, of course," he said, "but for Director Eriri's sake, maybe it's a good idea to study the process a bit more thoroughly now."
"Eh? I'm the director?" Eriri blinked, surprised.
"Well, I figured it's your story. You'll probably be happier if you're the one directing it, right?"
"Huh? So I'm the only one who wants to do this?"
"I want it too! I really do!" Kyousuke said earnestly. "That's why I'll be the assistant director. I'll make sure every instruction from Director Eriri is carried out perfectly."
"Hmph… Well, I suppose that sounds acceptable." Eriri nodded in satisfaction and pulled out some storyboards she had sketched before.
"Like here—there's no need to draw the whole scene of me walking into the bookstore. If it were that time we went to the bookstore and you randomly ran away…"
"I did not run away!"
"…Then yeah, I'd keep that scene. Me chasing after you and being blocked by strangers was worth animating. But otherwise, just cut to the store entrance."
"That'll save time for the artist meaning you and lower the costs."
Kyousuke ignored her annoyed interjection and went on.
"Also, this part—you don't need this much detail. Just indicate it's a crowded space. The animators and camera crew will handle the rest."
"Ohhh, I see," he added. "Eriri, you're struggling with depicting motion, aren't you?"
"Mmm…" she mumbled, lips pursed.
As always, once she got serious about something, she was completely focused. Those little outbursts? Just part of her creative flair—totally forgivable.
"That's easy to fix. Since the heroine is clearly modeled after you, I'll record you as a reference and explain it step by step."
"Hmm?" Eriri looked up with narrowed eyes, suspicious. That suggestion sounded… familiar somehow. Déjà vu. Wait… was this his attempt at revenge?
No, no. It's his honor to model after her. How could that be revenge?
"Come on. I aced physics—I can explain motion scene in an instant. Making this properly is easier than you think…"
He was already planning how many times he could gleefully yell "Wrong!" and correct her.
———————————————————————
"Nope! Your arm doesn't move like that—relax the elbow! Doesn't matter how, just relax it!"
"Take lighter steps so the leg lines look prettier!"
———————————————————————
"You go do it!"
"Huh?" Kyousuke's dream shattered as a cold voice yanked him back to reality.
Eriri stood there, arms crossed, one white-socked foot pressing firmly into his thigh.
"What are you doing? You do it!"
"I mean… you're the heroine…"
"Shut it! You're just the assistant director! Don't get cocky and try to boss the director around!" she snapped, baring her little fangs.
Her bright blue eyes glinted like a baby tiger's—well, one that's barely two months old.
"But our body types are different…" Kyousuke tried to reason.
"Shut up! You talk too much. Just follow your director's instructions already!" Eriri lifted her delicate chin proudly.
Gripping both sides of the chair while pressing her back tightly against it.
Her little feet pushed harder, and beneath her white cotton socks, the round shape of all five toes was clearly visible.
"…Fine, I get it." Kyousuke sighed quietly.
So, does being in this mansion automatically make him the designated model?
"That's not how a girl runs! Are you trying to channel Musashi Miyamoto or something?!" came the sharp critique from the golden-haired director.
"Lightly clench both fists, idiot! I said lightly! Imagine you're holding two eggs!"
———————————————————————
Their fun little "game" continued all the way until 9 PM.
Except for one short break when Sayuri came in to bring them some fruit, they barely stopped. It was both a relaxing and unexpectedly intense workout.
"Alright, I should probably get going," Kyousuke said, setting Eriri down gently from his arms and giving her a soft pat on the head.
"Huh? But it's only nine!" Weren't they supposed to have a sleepover tonight?
"I've got stuff to take care of at home," he replied.
As spacious as this mansion was, only one room truly appealed to him and without a proper excuse, he wasn't staying overnight.
He might bend the rules sometimes, but he had his own principles too.
"Well, I was hoping we could grab a late-night snack and maybe take a walk together…" Eriri pouted.
"Haha, we've got plenty of time ahead of us. Let's not rush it."
"Tch. I know that, obviously. I'll call a cab for you." As reluctant as she was, her first instinct was still to think about how he'd get home safely.
"I can just call one once I'm outside."
"Are you an idiot? There's no way you're catching a cab near my place."
The area was in Tokyo's northern district, and their house was practically hidden near the quiet and sparsely populated Kyu-Furukawa Gardens.
Of course you couldn't hail a cab there.
"Didn't expect you to be so thoughtful, Eriri." Kyousuke chuckled.
He usually came by motorcycle, so it hadn't occurred to him.
"Shut up!"
In the end, Kyousuke managed to leave without trampling the bed of white tulips under Eriri's balcony.
She always went to the balcony to unwind when she was tired, and seeing those graceful flowers probably helped her feel at ease.
Thinking that, he had the driver detour to a flower shop still open and bought a fresh batch of identical tulips.
Late at night, a neon-lit taxi is a terrifying thing—not because of any urban legends, but because of one sinister, blinking red device.
Yes, the fare meter.
"It's jumping faster than my heart rate!"
And it wasn't just because his heart skipped a beat.
That thing was scary. The cab fare alone could easily surpass the cost of an entire night out.
This was exactly why, back when he offered to call a cab for Shouko and the others, Sakura had commented that it was "extravagant."
Being able to take cabs on a whim was practically a luxury reserved for people making over 50 million yen a year.
Of course, as long as he didn't blow money on other "luxuries" like speculative investments, Kyousuke could afford to cruise around Tokyo in taxis all day.
After paying the fare and exchanging polite goodbyes with the driver, Kyousuke stepped out in front of his own home.
The taxi's self-closing doors spared him any irritating "slam!" noises.
Thanks to the flower detour, it was already 9:30 PM.
As he approached the front gate, the lights in the living room were unsurprisingly—still on.
This was the real reason he came back early.
He knew that if he didn't return, Shouko and Naoka definitely wouldn't go to bed, even though he had told them where he was going.
He opened the gate and stepped onto the stone path lit by motion-sensor lights.
Before he could even touch the doorknob, the front door swung open.
"Welcome home, Kyousuke~" In the warm yellow glow of the living room stood Shouko, smiling serenely.
"Have you been watching the security feed this whole time?" Kyousuke playfully pinched her nose.
"Hehe~" She gave him a bashful little giggle.
"You should've gone to bed earlier. Don't you start voice acting school tomorrow?"
He bent down as he entered.
Shouko had already taken his slippers out from the cabinet.
"Mmm~ I just wanted to stay up and say goodnight to Kyousuke."
Wearing pink pajamas, she stood by the sofa armrest, hands behind her back.
Her fluffy hair shimmered like it was made of light.
Kyousuke placed the tulips in a vase, then walked over and gently embraced her, planting a kiss on her forehead.
"Goodnight."
"Mm! Goodnight, Kyousuke~" A full day of longing melted into that single kiss, and her cheeks bloomed with the color of pink tulips.
"Naoka just went to take a shower," she said, pointing toward Ueno Naoka's room as they climbed the stairs.
"Make sure to rest up too, Kyousuke." With those parting words, she disappeared into her room.
He grabbed a small bottle of barley tea from the fridge.
He flopped down onto the sofa, letting the cushions swallow him whole, and exhaled a deep breath.
Even though he'd ended the day playing around with Eriri, it hadn't eased his exhaustion. It wasn't his body that was tired—but his mind.
Only the peaceful warmth of this home could truly relax him.
Gazing at the evergreen maple in the yard, he slowly sipped his tea. The golden liquid dwindled with each passing moment, visible even to the naked eye.
"Tough day?"
"Yeah…" Kyousuke shook his head. "But the moment I step inside, I can't help but tell myself, 'Good job today.' That's what home does to you."
"Pfft, that sounds like something Sakura would say," Ueno Naoka chuckled as she walked around the sofa and sat beside him.
"No no, Sakura would definitely shout it at the top of her lungs."
"True enough."
Kyousuke turned to her.
Naoka had a light blue towel wrapped over her damp hair, with a few strands still sticking out, glistening wet.
Her already commercial-worthy hair looked even shinier now.
"What?" Naoka blinked, noticing his gaze. She raised a hand to her face, confused.
"Nothing… I think this might be the first time I've seen you right after a bath."
"Oh… you're right."
Her already flushed cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, and her violet-blue eyes grew hazy with heat and embarrassment.
"Want me to dry your hair?"
"Sure." She had planned to let it air-dry, but she nodded without hesitation.
Kyousuke brought the hairdryer and a towel from the downstairs bathroom, folded the towel, and laid it over the back of the sofa.
Then, he gently removed her towel wrap.
"Here I go."
"Mm." Even though she had boldly kissed him before, this kind of intimate care was something entirely new for Ueno Naoka.
The moment her hair was brushed aside, her body froze up and her blushing face looked like it might start dripping color at any moment.
In the spacious living room, the sound of the hairdryer wasn't loud.
The two of them chatted casually, discussing what their first product should be.
The first to be ruled out was Saitama's cape.
Despite being a wildly popular character, no matter how devoted the fans were, it was hard to imagine anyone actually buying a skin-tight suit.
"How about the Survey Corps uniform vest? Even if someone wore it as casual clothes, it wouldn't look too out of place," Kyousuke suggested as he gently lifted another lock of hair.
"Yeah, I was thinking the same," Naoka replied, her eyes narrowing in contentment as she enjoyed the light, careful movements on her head.
"You don't even use a hairdryer yourself, right Kyousuke? How come you're so good at this?"
"Oh, that's because Sakura always pestered me to dry her hair when we were kids."
"Every time after a bath, she'd run straight to my house with her hair dripping wet—didn't even care if her clothes got soaked."
"…I see." As expected, Sakura really was her biggest rival.
Her hair dried quickly, but even after that, Kyousuke didn't seem ready to sleep.
Naoka didn't ask what he was up to, she just reminded him to get some rest and said good night before heading to her room.
Kyousuke brought his laptop and other tools from his room into the Japanese-style room and started drawing.
He had promised himself he'd finish three weeks' worth of drafts tonight, but after getting caught up playing house with Eriri, he had made zero progress.
Now he had no choice but to catch up. Not that that idiot would notice anyway.
And even if she did bring it up, he could always mimic her tone, tilt his chin, and say, "Are you a goldfish with a seven-second memory or something?"
That would shift the conversation to whether goldfish actually had memories, or whether their memories really only lasted seven seconds.
It always worked. Of course, the conversation would inevitably end with him getting roped into giving her a massage.
———————————————————————
The Next Day
As usual, the day was packed with book signings.
The schedule was this intense partly to boost his chances for an award, and partly so the publishers would leave him alone once school started again.
Meanwhile, Eriri, always full of initiative, had already roped in Mr. Spencer and arranged a horse-riding trip next week with Kyousuke in tow to meet a board member of the award committee.
"If you dare skip out, you're dead meat!" she snarled, vicious and fiery as ever.