In Pursuit of Happiness, Starting from Sakurasou Chapter 462 463: Protecting Kirisu Mafuyu's Purity!

Kirisu Miharu was naturally not a lovesick girl.

The reason she had been so thoroughly undone by Hozuki Nozomi's smile—caught between confusion and a daze that prickled heat across her cheeks—was primarily the product of near-zero experience dealing with n. Her impression of boys existed only in the pages of light novels: brooding heroes with tragic backstories, charming princes who appeared at opportune monts to sweep heroines off their feet. Abstract concepts. Safe, two-dinsional fantasies.

She had no experience interacting with real boys in any normal capacity.

Furthermore, the person she most admired in this world was the forr figure skating queen—her own Nee-san, Kirisu Mafuyu!

To follow in her Nee-san's graceful footsteps, Miharu herself had beco an amateur figure skater, spending countless hours on cold rinks, chasing that sa elegant perfection.

"Please have a seat. Would you like sothing to drink?"

Hozuki Nozomi, acting like a host, moved with easy familiarity toward the water dispenser tucked beside the kitchen doorway. He retrieved a cup from the cabinet beneath it without even looking—muscle mory guiding his hand to the exact shelf—and turned back to her with that sa disarming smile.

"En, I'll have so." Miharu nodded, settling onto the plush sofa.

But sothing snagged in her mind almost imdiately.

Wait.

Wasn't he Nee-san's student?

Why was he acting like the master of this house?

And he'd taken out those cups so skillfully! Like he'd done it a hundred tis before!

Miharu's mind buzzed like a struck tuning fork. A word that made blood rush to her face and her heart pound against her ribs appeared unbidden:

Cohabitation!

Could it be that Nee-san and this boy were... a couple? In a relationship?

Had Nee-san and Hozuki Nozomi already started cohabiting?

The thought sent ice through her veins. Imdiately, Miharu's expression shifted—wariness replacing her earlier flustered confusion. She stared at him with narrowed eyes.

She absolutely would not allow her perfect, pure Nee-san to be defiled—or worse, taken away—by so boy!

"Are you really Nee-san's student?"

"Of course. Genuine article." Nozomi's voice remained calm, almost amused. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a laminated card. "Here's my student ID, Miss Miharu. Please take a look."

She snatched it from his fingers.

SOUBU HIGH SCHOOL — FIRST YEAR

The photograph showed his face clearly—those sa handso features, that sa irritatingly confident expression.

Her face reddened further. Oh no.

He really was a student. A first-year student.

Nee-san , she thought desperately, even if you find a boyfriend, you can't find soone so much younger than you! Teacher-student relationships are wrong!

However...

She glanced up at him again. The afternoon light caught the sharp line of his jaw, the easy confidence in his posture as he stood there—tall, lean, infuriatingly composed. His dark hair fell just slightly into his eyes, and when he tilted his head with that questioning look, sothing fluttered traitorously in her chest.

He really is quite handso...

But no!

Miharu crushed that thought ruthlessly. Her gaze hardened with renewed determination. She would not allow her Nee-san to be taken away by anyone!

It's decided.

I, Kirisu Miharu, will firmly oppose him dating Nee-san!

Even if it ans sacrificing myself, I must protect my Nee-san's purity!

Hozuki Nozomi, of course, had no idea what dramatic resolutions were unfolding behind those dark eyes.

If he had known—if he'd glimpsed even a fraction of the "sacrifice herself" clause in Miharu's internal declaration—he would have acted without hesitation. Spoken up. Taken everything offered and more.

But he remained blissfully oblivious.

Having made up her mind, Miharu tried to compose herself. The expression she arranged on her face was... not quite right. She widened her eyes deliberately, attempted sothing that might have been a wink, and stretched her lips into what she imagined was a seductive smile.

The result looked more like she was experiencing mild facial paralysis.

"Um, Nozomi-san, what do you think of my Nee-san?"

"En? You're asking my opinion of Teacher Mafuyu?" He considered for a mont, then smiled. "Well—she's super cute, of course."

"That's right! Nee-san is the cutest!" Miharu's eyes lit up imdiately, instinctive agreent overriding her earlier suspicion.

Then she rembered her mission. She winked again—that sa strained, squinting expression—and tried for another awkward smile.

"Um... then what do you think of ?"

"You?"

Nozomi's gaze traveled over her with frank assessnt.

Kirisu Miharu was naturally a beautiful girl—that much was imdiately apparent. As Kirisu Mafuyu's younger sister, she couldn't be anything less. Her features carried the sa delicate bone structure, the sa graceful proportions, though rendered in a slightly softer, more youthful key.

She was smaller than her sister—shorter by perhaps ten centiters, her chest modestly filling the front of her light sweater rather than straining against fabric the way Mafuyu's curves did. But in other aspects, she matched her sister's beauty entirely.

A slender, petite fra with the toned grace of a figure skater—narrow waist curving into slim hips, legs that seed impossibly long for her height. Her skin held that porcelain fairness common to both sisters, smooth and unblemished. Pink hair spilled past her shoulders in loose waves, framing a face that still carried hints of girlish softness—round cheeks, full lips, large eyes that dominated her delicate features.

She practically radiated youthful energy.

Nozomi's lips curved appreciatively. "Miss Miharu is naturally also a very cute girl. After all, you are Teacher Mafuyu's sister."

Miharu bead at the praise, her eyebrows and eyes curving into a genuine smile—this one far more natural and pleasing than her earlier attempts at whatever she'd been doing with her face.

That wasn't seduction , Nozomi thought with mild amusent. That was just making funny faces.

This girl clearly had no idea how to entice boys. None whatsoever.

Miharu's brightened mood lasted exactly one second before she rembered her purpose. She took a deep breath, squaring her small shoulders, and fixed him with a determined stare.

"Nozomi-san. I have to ask you sothing directly."

"Go ahead."

"You didn't do anything strange to my sister, did you?"

"Uh..." Nozomi blinked. "What's 'strange'?"

"It's... it's..." Her face flushed crimson. "It's that kind of thing! After a boy and a girl start dating!"

Oh.

Understanding dawned. "Of course not. Why would you ask sothing like that?"

"This... I..." Miharu fumbled for words.

Before she could continue, the sound of the front door opening cut through the apartnt.

"I'm ho."

Kirisu Mafuyu's voice drifted in from the entryway, followed by the rustle of shopping bags.

"Nozomi! Co help with the groceries—they're so heavy."

"Okay, I'm coming right now."

He rose from his seat and moved toward the entrance. Mafuyu stood there—pink hair slightly windswept, cheeks flushed from the walk ho, arms laden with bulging plastic bags that strained against the weight of vegetables and at. She had changed into a simple cream blouse earlier, the fabric stretching pleasantly across her generous chest as she struggled with her burden.

She handed him the groceries—their fingers brushing briefly—and then froze as her gaze landed on the figure sitting on her sofa.

"Oh! Miharu? Why are you here?"

"Hehe! Because I missed you, Nee-san!"

Miharu abandoned all pretense of interrogation. She bounded off the sofa and threw herself into her sister's arms, burying her face against that soft, ample chest and rubbing her cheek against the yielding warmth like a contented cat.

My school is off today, so I ca to see you~

Nozomi watched this display with undisguised envy. His lips pressed into a subtle pout.

I want to rub too...

But cooking ca first.

Mafuyu awkwardly pushed her clingy sister back a step, a flush creeping up her neck. She glanced at Nozomi, sothing unspoken passing between them.

"Um, Nozomi, this is my younger sister Miharu. You go to the kitchen first—I'll be there in a mont."

"Oh."

He shrugged, didn't ask questions, and carried the groceries past the counter and into the small kitchen space.

He understood perfectly.

Mafuyu didn't want her sister to discover her dostic incompetence—the burnt dishes, the failed attempts at simple recipes, the apartnt that would descend into chaos without his intervention. In Miharu's eyes, Nee-san was omnipotent. Perfect. An untouchable idol.

That carefully constructed image absolutely could not be allowed to crumble.

---

The mont Nozomi disappeared into the kitchen, Miharu seized her sister's wrist and dragged her to the sofa.

"Nee-san," she hissed urgently. "Honestly—what's your relationship with Hozuki Nozomi? You two aren't living together, are you? For how long?"

She's suspicious, Mafuyu thought, heat flooding her cheeks. Oh god, she thinks we're—

"What are you talking about?" Her voice ca out too high. "I'm not living with him!"

"Huh? You're not?" Miharu's brow furrowed. "But he's so skilled at getting drinks, and he seems so familiar with this place..."

"Ahem, well—actually—"

Mafuyu scrambled for an explanation that wouldn't shatter her perfect-sister image.

"He was slacking off in class and I caught him. He's also helped out a few tis, so to tutor him, I occasionally let him co over and sit. And—incidentally—I punish him by having him clean for ."

Miharu stared.

What?

He helped her... and she punished him?

Could this be so special play between them?

The younger sister's imagination spiraled into dangerous territory. Her gaze hardened with renewed determination.

I absolutely must protect Nee-san's purity!

"Ahem, well—Miharu, you sit for a bit." Mafuyu rose quickly, smoothing her skirt. "Since you're here, let's have dinner together later."

"Okay!" Miharu's suspicious expression lted into eager anticipation. "Nee-san's cooking—I'm really looking forward to it!"

Mafuyu's smile turned brittle.

It's over, she thought desperately, already backing toward the kitchen. If Miharu eats my actual cooking, Nee-san's image will collapse completely!

She slipped through the kitchen doorway, the scent of sesa oil and ginger already rising from where Nozomi had begun preparations.

Fortunately—fortunately—Hozuki Nozomi had been invited over today.