Reality had a cruel habit of twisting expectations into sothing unrecognizable.
"But you don’t have to worry, brother-in-law," Akari Honne said brightly into the phone, her voice bubbling with forced cheer. "Sis said she knows you’d rather not see her, so she’s only bringing along."
On the other end of the line, Alan fell into a long, heavy silence.
"Brother-in-law?" Honne pressed. "You still there?"
Catching the hesitation, the excitent in her voice dimd, as though soone had turned down a dial.
"Yeah," Alan replied at last. "I’m here."
"...Do you not want to co to Tokyo, brother-in-law?"
Her voice shrank, turning small and fragile. Even through the phone’s speaker, Alan could picture it perfectly: her lashes trembling, eyes glistening, lips quivering just enough to sell the act.
In truth, he’d developed a kind of immunity.
Honne had pulled this instant-noodle crocodile tears routine so many tis he’d lost count. The timing was always impeccable, the delivery flawless, the tears switching on and off like a faucet.
When he didn’t answer right away, she seed to realize that angle wasn’t working.
"If you don’t believe ," she said quickly, "I’ll let Sis talk to you."
Before he could agree or refuse, the phone was already being passed to soone else.
"Hello?" ca a familiar voice. "Alan."
Akari Hojo’s voice slid through the receiver, soft and calm, brushing against his ears like a familiar lody.
"Hey," he answered.
"Sorry to bother you," she said gently. "Rehearsals have been intense, and the agency’s got running in circles lately. I really can’t get away... so I’ll have to trouble you to look after Honne for her birthday in Tokyo."
"...Alright," Alan said after a pause. "Got it."
There wasn’t much else he could say. Still, a question gnawed at the back of his mind.
How had Hojo agreed so easily?
He knew Honne had a crush on him. Hojo knew it even better.
When he and Hojo were still dating, she’d bristled at every overly familiar hug her sister gave him. Honne would cling to him shalessly, curl up against his chest, whispering complaints or jokes ant only for his ears. Hojo had pleaded with him—sotis openly, sotis in roundabout ways—to keep Honne at arm’s length.
More than once, Hojo, usually gentle and patient, had exploded in frustration. She’d yelled at her sister for draping herself over him like a scarf, only to lose the shouting match. Later, she would collapse against his chest like a wounded kitten, tears soaking his shirt, asking him to stroke her hair until she cald down.
Two days ago, she’d clung to him as though letting go would break her. Now, she was calmly giving permission for Honne to spend an entire week alone with him in Tokyo.
None of it made sense.
Alan had assud Honne would refuse outright, banking on Hojo’s jealousy. He’d made the request lightly, almost carelessly.
Instead, the situation had flipped completely.
He couldn’t tell what Hojo was planning.
Sensing his silence, Hojo spoke again. "Alan, can I ask you sothing?"
"I might not answer," he said honestly.
She sighed. "You’ve changed. Do all n turn cold after a breakup?"
The sigh was deliberate, heavy with emotion. Then she pressed on, quieter now. "We’re still friends, right?"
"..."
"I’ve co to terms with it," Hojo continued. "Like you said before, two people can love each other and still not reach the end together. Happiness isn’t the only reason we’re alive."
Her voice softened further, steady but sincere.
"If I can’t be happy myself, at least I can help soone else be. So... I hope you and whoever you choose will be happy, Alan."
She paused, then added, almost tenderly, "But no matter what, I’ll never forget the ti we had. I’ll carry every expectation you ever had for and keep chasing my dream. So please, watch from the audience."
"That," she said quietly, "will be my happiness."
Listening to her words, Alan drew in a slow breath. When he released it, the tangled questions inside him seed to loosen, if only a little.
"I will," he said.
"Mm."
After a thoughtful silence, Hojo spoke again. "Oh, right. I passed your ssage to Miss Kaguya. She said there’s still a copyright issue you need to sort out. She asked you to contact her as soon as you can."
"Copyright?" Alan frowned. "Didn’t we already sign the contract?"
"I don’t know the details," Hojo replied. "She didn’t tell ."
"...Alright. I’ll call her."
"Good night, then."
Click.
The call ended before Alan could say anything else.
"...?"
Honne spun around, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Eh?!"
She stared at Hojo, sputtering. "Why’d you hang up?!"
Hojo placed the phone calmly on the coffee table and turned a gentle smile toward her sister.
"Everything that needed to be said was said," she replied. "Alan agreed to show you around Tokyo."
"But I wasn’t finished!" Honne protested, her face scrunching up as frustration made her tremble.
She’d endured that syrupy speech, stomach churning, all so she could grab the phone again and start planning their Tokyo itinerary. Instead, Hojo had taken the last word and cut the call short.
Keeping all the dessert to yourself, huh?
Hojo, unruffled, studied her sister from head to toe.
Honne was only about 155 centiters tall, but the Akari family’s beauty genes had done their work. She had a delicate oval face, cherry-colored lips, and naturally flirtatious eyes. Her chest was smaller than Hojo’s, but still more than "adequate."
Hojo estimated that Alan could probably circle one of them with a single hand.
What truly drew attention, though, were her legs—slender, straight, almost luminous under the light, faint blue veins visible beneath pale skin. Paired with her petite fra, they practically scread "protect " to anyone who looked.
White, slim, young.
That sumd it up nicely.
Hojo nodded in quiet appraisal.
Under the scrutiny, Honne felt as though ants were crawling over her skin. She pressed her knees together.
"What are you looking at?" she snapped.
Hojo lifted her gaze to et Honne’s slightly moist eyes.
"Save your words for when you see him," she said calmly. "But first, Honne, you need to promise sothing. Otherwise, I’m not taking you to Tokyo."
Honne’s eyelid twitched.
"Tsk."
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