Chapter 35: A Story That Wasn’t in the Novel

The door opened, and a wave of cool air washed over me. The house was eerily silent.

Faint classical music drifted from somewhere, but there were no signs of life. I stepped inside, fidgeting nervously.

‘…This house is huge. My footsteps echo.’

The floor was polished marble, and a chandelier hung from the high ceiling. The space was impeccably clean and organized, almost sterile. It felt like the house itself was designed to enforce perfection.

Aya stepped inside and removed her shoes. I followed suit, cautiously entering the house. And then…

A soft thud echoed from upstairs. I instinctively looked up, towards the grand staircase leading to the second floor.

“My sister’s room is on the second floor. Let’s go.”

“Okay…” I followed Aya up the stairs, each step echoing softly.

And then… I discovered the source of the thud.

Aya opened a door, revealing a figure with long, platinum blonde hair sprawled on the floor.

The room was silent. Sunlight streamed through a gap in the curtains. But Reina-senpai lay slumped against the floor, her body limp.

“Onee-chan.”   ( TL Note: Onee chan (お姉ちゃん): Older Sister in Japanese)

“Oh… you’re here…?”

“You collapsed again?”

“I… I don’t have any strength…”

Yukikawa Reina. She slowly opened her eyes, her usual gentle smile seeming weak and strained.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

Even though I’d met her a few times, seeing her like this was a shock. At school, she’d always seemed healthy, sitting or standing with effortless grace. But now… she lay on the floor, her voice barely a whisper.

While not contagious, her frail health… the “Angel of the Masses,” who comforted others… was practically bedridden at home.

“Onee-chan, are you alright?” Aya asked, her voice calm as she helped Reina-senpai up.

But I noticed the slight tension in Aya’s shoulders. I remained silent, watching them cautiously. Reina-senpai, finally noticing me, turned her gaze towards me.

“Is this the friend you brought…? Ah, Kurosawa-san.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled gently.

“Yes, I’m Kurosawa Rina,” I quickly replied.

“…Nice to meet you.”

Aya, without responding, looked away. I didn’t know what to say in the midst of this strange silence.

But one thing was clear. Just like in the infirmary, there was an undeniable distance between Aya and Reina-senpai. I watched them, my gaze shifting back and forth.

“Rina came to see you, Onee-chan, so let’s go to the living room,” Aya said, her voice strained.

“Okay, let’s go,” Reina-senpai replied with a weak smile.

Aya, awkwardly but gently, helped her sister up. And me… the guest, unsure of what to do.

We headed downstairs. As we walked, I couldn’t help but stare at my surroundings. The house was so grand, it felt more like a palace.

A blend of old-world European architecture and modern design. Expensive paintings and sculptures lined the hallway beneath the massive chandeliers. The carpet, plush and thick, muffled our footsteps.

‘…Am I… even allowed to be in a place like this…?’ I wondered, a mix of awe and anxiety swirling within me, as I quietly followed Aya.

****

We arrived at the living room. Elegant sofas and a table occupied the center of the room. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the ornate bookshelves lining the walls.

‘Wow… this is the living room? It’s bigger than my bedroom…?’

Everything felt unfamiliar, foreign. But Aya and Reina-senpai seemed perfectly at ease.

“I’ll make some tea,” Aya said softly, standing up and heading towards the kitchen to prepare refreshments.

I waited for Reina-senpai to settle on the sofa, then cautiously sat down, glancing at Aya.

“Kurosawa-san, what brings you here?” Reina-senpai asked.

“Ah, well… let’s talk about it when Aya comes back,” I replied.

“Yes, that would be best.” It was better to give Aya a chance to speak first, rather than me interfering.

Reina-senpai’s gentle smile, so similar to Aya’s, was a little overwhelming, but I endured it.

Soon, Aya returned with a tray of tea. Perfect tea, served in exquisite teacups. Steam rose from the surface, releasing a delicate aroma.

‘…Did Aya… make this herself?’

Aya usually drank iced tea or convenience store milk tea. This was the first time I’d seen her prepare tea so formally.

The realization made my face burn.

‘Aya… made tea for me…! This is… this is…!’

My inner turmoil was interrupted by a sudden chill in the air.

Aya and Reina. Even while sipping their tea, the atmosphere between them was strangely cold. Reina-senpai maintained her gentle smile, but Aya’s gaze was unusually sharp.

I instinctively held my breath, sensing the tension.

“So…” Reina-senpai began, her voice soft, yet with an underlying strength. “Rina, what brings you here?” she asked, looking at me.

But it was Aya who answered. “The night market.”

Her firm voice cut through the air, the previously calm atmosphere instantly turning frigid.

‘Ah… this is the real Aya…’ Lately, I’d only seen the gentle, playful side of Aya, so this felt unfamiliar. But the Aya in the novel was a cool beauty, her demeanor often cold and distant.

Reina-senpai traced the rim of her teacup with her finger, a slow smile forming on her lips. But it was a smile devoid of warmth.

“…If you’ve come to talk about that, be prepared for what you’re about to hear.”

She slowly placed her teacup on the table. The fragrant tea did little to dispel the growing chill in the air.

“…It was during my first year of middle school,” she began, her voice soft, yet with an undercurrent of something… hidden. Her gaze seemed distant, as if she were reliving a memory.

“Back then, the night market was an integral part of the Takamari Spring Festival.”

“…”

“Every year, students would prepare performances and booths, and the Shirasaki Street vendors would join in, creating a vibrant festival that encompassed the entire Takamari area.” A hint of nostalgia tinged her voice.

“But…” she paused, her fingers gently swirling the tea in her cup. Even this subtle gesture drew a sharp, guarded look from Aya.

“Enough with the reminiscing. You asked why Shirasaki Street and Takamari Academy parted ways, about the night market incident, didn’t you?” Aya asked bluntly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Reina-senpai sighed softly and lowered her gaze, as if even breathing was an effort. “Yes, it was… as everyone knows… due to a conflict of interest.” Her voice was calm, yet cautious.

“Our academy’s alumni association and the Shirasaki Merchants’ Association used to cooperate closely. But their interests began to diverge.”

“What kind of interests?” Aya’s question was sharp, direct. It felt almost… disrespectful to speak to her older sister like that. But Aya’s gaze was so intense, I couldn’t bring myself to intervene.

“The alumni association wanted to limit the influence of outside vendors to maintain the academy’s prestige, while the Shirasaki Merchants’ Association wanted to leverage the festival for local economic development,” Reina-senpai explained, taking a sip of her tea.

“And eventually, the conflict escalated between the academy’s board and the association’s leaders… and the academy officially decided to exclude Shirasaki Street, under the guise of creating an ‘independent academy event.’”

Aya, her expression unchanged, asked another question. “Was it really just about a conflict of interest?”

Reina-senpai’s gaze flickered, as if avoiding eye contact. Had Aya struck a nerve?

“…”

I felt a sudden unease. Reina-senpai claimed it was just a conflict of interest, but… I had a feeling there was more to the story.

“Back then…” Reina-senpai began hesitantly.

“Back then… what happened?” Aya pressed, and Reina-senpai placed her teacup on the table, her eyes wavering.

“Aya,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm, “you know it wasn’t just about business, don’t you?”

I instinctively looked at Aya, but her expression remained unchanged. “So, what exactly happened?” she asked, her voice unwavering.

Reina-senpai sighed heavily. “…That day, I was performing at the night market.”

“Huh? Performing?”

This wasn’t in the novel. I blurted out the question before I could stop myself, and Reina-senpai smiled faintly. “Yes. It might be hard to believe now, but back then, students would perform on stage at the night market. I played the piano as a student representative.”

“…”

“And… that day, there was an accident during the performance.” Her voice was quiet, as if she were carefully concealing something.

“What kind of accident?” Aya’s brow furrowed slightly.

And in that moment, I felt a strange sense of… dissonance.

‘Aya… didn’t know about this?’

Aya was supposed to know everything. She always knew every detail about anything that interested her. But her reaction to the word “accident” suggested there was something she didn’t know.

“It was just… a minor issue with the stage equipment,” Reina said, forcing a casual tone.

But I knew… it wasn’t just a “minor issue.”