Chapter 29: The Final Touch
Tick⌠Tick⌠TickâŚ
The wall clock echoed through the still air, its hands aligning as the shorthand struck three, Dawn was still 1 hour away, and the world outside was cloaked in a heavy, sleepy silence.
The faint jingle of keys broke the stillness, followed by the metallic scrape of a lock being forced open.Â
The door creaked softly as it swung inward, revealing a wary, exhausted figure stepping through the threshold. The door shut behind her with a quiet snap.
ââŚIâm home,â
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
The words werenât meant to alert anyone of her arrival. Perhaps she spoke out of habit, careful not to disturb those who should be asleep at such an hour. Or maybe, deep down, she never expected a response in the first place.
With a quiet sigh, she placed the grocery bag down, the crinkling sound barely breaking the silence. Without thinking, she slipped off her shoes and changed into her house slippers.
âhm?â
As she walked through the entryway into the living room, a faint blue glow flickering against the wall near the entrance caught her attention.
Could it be?
She quickened her pace, reaching the living room to confirm her suspicion.
âOh, Sawa-san? Welcome home.â
Lying on the carpeted floor, head resting against the sofa, her black hair spread loosely around her, was a familiar figure.Â
A blanket covered half her legs, while empty cola cans and crumpled snack bags littered both sides of her. Chips and treats were scattered around, some still sealed, others half-eaten.
She was dressed in her usual sleepwear, though her jacket was missing, leaving only a sleeveless T-shirt with a Bad Boy logoâone that had slipped off her right shoulder, exposing part of her chest.Â
Her belly peeked out slightly as she lazily scratched it, meeting Sawaâs gaze with drowsy eyes. Crumbs from whatever she had last eaten clung to her mouth and stomach.
âI thought I heard the door lock. So it was just you, huh?â she mumbled, yawning. âYouâre late.â
Sawa didnât respond immediately. She simply looked at her for a few more seconds before shifting her gaze to the source of the blue lightâthe TV screen, still on, broadcasting a late-night movie.
Sawa sighed, pressing her fingers against her forehead.
âOh my? Come on, before trying to scold me, rememberâyou promised to be here for dinner. I was simply waiting for youâŚâ
Peeking through the gap of her fingers, Sawa found nothing to argue with.
She knew Kurumi would have stayed up late regardless of when she got back, but at this moment, the girl was rightâSawa was the one who had broken a promise.
ââŚI guess weâre even now.â
With a small sigh, she headed to the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, separated only by a half-wall. Setting the groceries down on the counter, she glanced back at Kurumi.
âDid you have dinner? Donât tell me all you ate was fast food.â
âHm? Yeah, I cooked dinner for myself. I left some for you on the stove.â
Kurumi's eyes drifted back to the movie playing on the TV as she spoke.
Sawaâs gaze shifted to where Kurumi had mentionedâa small pot sat on the stove, covered with a lid.
âOh, thanksâŚâ
âhmâ
Peeking inside, she found a simple mealârice, miso soup, and a small portion of grilled fish. It wasnât much, but it was warm and freshly made.
âIâll eat in my room,â she said, grabbing a plate. âIf you need anything, Iâll be there.â
Kurumi gave a lazy wave without looking away from the screen. âGot it.â
Sawa cast one last glance at her before heading down the hall. She stepped into her room, not bothering to turn on the light.Â
The faint glow from the street outside filtered through the window, casting soft shadows across the room. She shut the door with a quiet click and exhaled, only now realizing she had been holding her breath.
The space was smallâjust enough for the essentials. It wasnât that there werenât bigger rooms available; Kurumi had offered plenty. But for some reason, she had chosen this one, a converted storage room. It felt⌠less lonely.
In the corner, a neatly made futon lay waiting, its blanket folded back halfway, revealing crisp sheets. Beside it, a desk sat cluttered yet organizedâtextbooks, practice exams, and handwritten notes stacked in careful disorder, some pages marked with tiny scribbles and colorful highlights. An open prep book rested on top, its pages dog-eared and worn from constant use.
The dim glow of a digital alarm clock cast soft red numbers into the dark: 3:07 AM.Â
Nearby, a planner lay open. The date January 9 was circledâthen crossed out with a single, decisive stroke. Beneath it, a note read: High School Equivalency Exam.
A steaming cup sat on the desk, untouched. The tea inside had long since gone cold.
Against the far wall, a metal rack held neatly folded uniformsâsome casual, others more formal. Though well-maintained, they showed clear signs of wear. Beneath them, a pair of polished shoes rested side by side, their soles slightly worn.
A few envelopes peeked from a folder tucked against the bookshelf, their official-looking seals still unbroken. A calculator lay on top, its screen dark.
By the bedside, a coin jar sat half-full beside a lined notepad filled with numbers and figures.Â
Sawa rubbed her temple, trying to shake off the creeping fatigue. She set her plate down, switched on the desk lamp, and pulled out the nearest notebook, flipping to where she had left off. With a soft thap, she sank into the swivel chair.
Letting out a quiet sigh, she picked up her pen.
The notebook was filled with neat rows of numbers, each carefully aligned under dates spanning the last two weeks. Income on one side, expenses on the other, with the difference circled at the end of each day. Some days showed a decent gain; others barely broke even.
For todayâs entry, Sawa tapped the pen against her temple, deep in thought. She hadnât received her full payment for the traffic jobâquitting early had cost her. But thanks to the extra cash from the old lady, plus the hours she had worked on the dawn of the day before, she still came out ahead.Â
Eighteen hours total, she calculated, factoring in the extra bonus she earned. Subtracting expenses, she had made about 150,000 yen (~$1,000) today.
Flipping back through the pages, the pattern was clear. She had been working an exhausting 18 hours a day for the past two weeks, leaving barely any time to rest. Each dayâs final balance fluctuated, but on average, she was earning between 130,000 and 170,000 yen (~$900â$1,200) daily.
The overall result? Roughly 2.1 million yen (~$14,000) in two weeks.
It was a lot to take in over such a short timeâbut she knew it wouldnât last. Once school started, everything would change.
She let out a quiet breath, rubbing the side of her head before jotting down the final number for today. The ink dragged slightlyâher pen was on its last legs.
She spent most of her free time studying. No breaks, no rest. If she wasnât working, she was buried in textbooks, cramming as much as possibleâwhether it was picking up her notebook during shifts or studying when she got back home. Three months left. That was all she had before the entrance exams.
That was why she pushed herself nowâworking as many hours as possible, saving every yen she could. Once school started, there wouldnât be time for this. She wanted to focus entirely on her studies without worrying about money.
But it wasnât just about that.
She needed the money for something elseâsomething just as important.
Sawa Yamauchi didnât exist. Not officially. No family register, no birth certificateânothing.
If she wanted a real future, a passing exam score wasnât enough. She needed an identityâone that wouldnât demand explanations about her past.
And the only way to get that was money.
This was her one shot at the dream she had chased for so long. She had to make it count. And fast.
She shut the notebook with a quiet thap and rested her head on top of it, slipping a hand beneath. The desk lamp cast a dim glow, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes through the strands of her hair.
ââŚIâm scared.â
Part 2:
âWell? Do you have anything to say for yourself, Shido?â
That night, the moment Shido stepped out of Mikuâs house, he was immediately scooped up by Fraxinusâs transporter and sent straight to the briefing room.
Waiting for him was his sister, her expression even more oppressive than usual.
A lot had happened to bring him to this moment. His encounter with the new Spirit, codenamed âDivaâ the day before, had been a disaster from the start.Â
He failed miserably at getting close to her, only to realize in the end that she simply preferred girls. There was nothing wrong with his approachâfate just wasnât on his side.
So, they came up with a plan. He swallowed his pride, dressed as a girl, and did everything he could to earn her trustâonly to throw it all away by challenging a literal idol to a singing contest just because they had different views.
Yeah. A lot had happened.
âI have brought you dishonor,â Shido muttered, cold sweat forming on his forehead as he knelt and prostrated himselfâstill in Shiori mode, his cross-dressing disguise.
He had been forced in the center of the round table, surrounded by the crewâs piercing gazes. It felt less like a debriefing and more like a trial, with him as the guilty defendant.
âI told you not to lose your temper,â Kotori said, arms crossed. âJust when the Spiritâs favorability was about to rise, you go and say âI hate youâ? âI reject youâ? Seriously, youâve outdone yourself this time.â
âB-but,â he stammered, âitâs weird! She doesnât even care about peopleâs lives! And⌠you know, people like Miku because of that voice, so she probably never had anyone tell her when she was in the wrong. So Iââ
âThere was no need to say what you said,â Kotori interrupted, her voice flat. âAt least, not at that moment.â
âHnghâŚâ He groaned, sinking deeper into his kneeling position.
âItâs true that Miku Izayoiâs values donât align with the norm. Sheâs going to need some serious education after we seal her power. But thatâs exactly why we need to lock it away as soon as possible, isnât it? So why, of all things, would you deliberately antagonize her, you cross-dressing pervert?â
âUh⌠Iâm dressed like this because of you, though,â he shot back, raising his voice in protest.
Kotori, of course, ignored him completely.
Something about this conversation felt slightly off, but Shido decided it wasnât worth dwelling on. Instead, he pressed on, âAnd, well, you say that, but how were Mikuâs likability and mood? I didnât hear any alarms through my earpiece, at least.â
âTrue.â Kotori snorted. âHer likability and mood didnât drop much. She was a little unstable for a secondâprobably surprised at being rejectedâbut the numbers bounced right back up.â
âSee! So thenââ
âYes. Thereâs no problem⌠if you can beat Miku in the performance contest, hmm?â
ââŚHaaah.â
Shido had barely lifted his head in defiance, only for it to drop forward once more in defeat.
âAt any rate.â Kotori sighed again, recrossing her legs. âNow that youâve accepted her challenge, we canât back out. Weâll handle your committee work one way or another, so tomorrow, your job is to negotiate with the performers and secure your spot on that stage.â
âY-youâll help me?â
âObviously.â She snorted, arms crossed. âWhat do you think Ratatoskr is here for? Now that weâve come this far, weâll do everything we can to win. Have I made myself clear, crew?â
âYes, sir!â the crew responded in unison.
âThat saidââ Kotori suddenly narrowed her eyes, as if something was bothering her. âAbout what she said regarding the other SpiritsâŚâ
âAhâŚâ
Shido immediately picked up on where the conversation was heading.
Ah~ To think Iâd meet another Spirit right after encountering one yesterday. Itâs certainly my lucky streakâŚ
ââŚOr something like that,â he muttered, watching as Kotori sank into deep thought.
âYeah⌠When she mistook you for a Spirit, she mentioned meeting one beforeâŚâ
âSo, what do you think of this matter, Kotori?â
âWe shouldâve considered this possibility earlierâa scenario where one Spirit meets another or makes contact.â Kotoriâs voice was firm, but there was a hint of unease. âHonestly, itâs a miracle that no two Spirits have ended up in a serious disagreement so far⌠though we already have one recorded.â
âYeahâŚâ
The incident between Kurumi and the mysterious Spirit codenamed âGaiaâ.
âBut the way Miku described that Spirit⌠donât you think thereâs a chance sheâs the same one Kurumi fought two weeks ago?â
It was a fair question from Shidoâone that needed to be asked. According to Miku, the Spirit she encountered had the ability to control plants.Â
That matched Gaiaâs recorded abilities. But there was a problem. The description Miku gave of her appearance and personality didnât match the Spirit they had seen in the footage.
âThereâs a possibility theyâre the same,â Kotori admitted. âBut thereâs also a chance theyâre separate entities with similar powers. Until we meet her ourselves, we canât say for sure.â
âMmâŚâ Shido nodded in agreement, though one detail Miku had mentioned before abruptly changing the subject lingered in his mind.
Mu~ Shiori-san~ You ask so many questions about that Spirit~ If youâre that interested in her, I have good news for you~
Huh?
We made a promiseâsheâll attend my performance. If youâre that curious, I can introduce you two~
"Yeah..." He didnât say what was on his mind, but Kotori could already tell.
âIf what Miku said is true, and that Spirit actually shows up at the festival tomorrow, that would save us a lot of trouble. Weâd be hitting two birds with one stone.â
âSaying that is easier than doing itâŚâ Shido groaned under his breath. âDealing with Miku is already one thing, but do you really think I stand a chance with someone we know nothing about? Not to mention, Iâll still be cross-dressing the whole time. I doubt this Spirit will be as much of a special case as Miku.â
Kotori let out a sigh. For once, she couldnât blame her brother. If anything, she agreed with him. Trying to win over two girls at onceâespecially under these circumstancesâwas almost ridiculous.
They had pulled off something similar before, like the three-timing date with Tohka, Origami, and Kurumi. But at least back then, two of the three were already deeply in love with Shido.
This time, it was different. One girl openly disliked him yet was unknowingly flirting with his disguised self, while the other was a complete mystery.
ââŚThis is going to be a headache.â
âYou betâŚâ
The two siblings sighed in unison.
âAnyway, letâs focus on the problem at hand. Weâre up against the popular idol, Miku Izayoi. Beating her wonât be easy. Whatâs your school doing for their first performance, Shido?â
âHuh? UmmâŚâ He tried to recall. He was pretty sure Ai-Mai-Mii had mentioned something about it. âI think⌠itâs a band performance.â
âA band, huh? I see. Thatâs good, isnât it? Youâre good at that.â
âWhat?â He tilted his head, confused.
Kotori tapped on the console in front of her, bringing up a video on the large screen in the room.
âEeek?!â He yelped before he could stop himself.
The screen showed his own bedroom. A younger Shido sat on the bed, playing a worn-out guitar. He wasnât incredible, but he wasnât bad either. For a junior high kid, he was practically a prodigy.
That, however, was the issue. Caught up in his own little world, he was humming a song he had made up, strumming along to a clumsy melody of his own creation.
Yes. Back in junior high, driven by teenage angst, there was a time when Shido played the role of a boy with a troubled pastâa hint of mystery and darkness. He had been the "only my guitar understands me" type. Naturally, as high school entrance exams approached, he buried that phase deep in his memory, hoping to never revisit it again.
âIsnât thisâpfftâthe perfect chance to show off theâhnngkâskills you worked so hard to master? Ha-haâŚ!â Kotoriâs shoulders trembled as she triedâunsuccessfullyâto hold back her laughter.
A quick glance around the room confirmed his worst fear. The rest of the crew had their faces turned away, bodies shaking with poorly hidden amusement.
âH-hey! Where did you even get this?!â he demanded.
âWell, I thought it mightâŚcome in handy⌠Pfft!â Kotori barely managed to get the words out.
Onscreen, the younger Shido suddenly jumped to his feet, playing his guitar like a rock star, completely lost in the moment.
That was the final straw. Kotori burst into uncontrollable laughter.
âSt-stop, stop, stop, stoooooooop!â Shido cried, clutching his head as if he could block out the embarrassment. The video cut off, but the damage was already done.
Just as he thought he was finally free from this nightmare, the screen flickeredâand there he was again, sitting on the bed.
The Shido on-screen spoke to no one in particular, as if he were being interviewed.
âYeah, Iâm not much of a talker⌠So I let this do the talking for me. For me, itâs not just about playing the guitar⌠itâs more like Iâm speaking through it.â
âStop! Just stop the video alreadyyyyyy!â Shido pleaded, his voice cracking as he clutched his head. Tears welled in his eyes, and goosebumps ran down his arms. Finally, mercifully, the screen went dark.
A few moments passed as he tried to recover from the sheer humiliation.
Kotori snapped her fingers. âWell, at least youâre not a complete beginner. Naturally, weâll get you the best teacher. From today until the Tenou Festival, youâll practice until you can play this song in your sleep.â
âY-hic-yeahâŚâ
The response came from Shidoâor rather, Shioriâas the teary-eyed mess sitting before them hardly resembled a high school boy anymore. And that wasnât just because of the cross-dressing.
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