Chapter 80: Asakura Mizuki

After school, I stepped out into a downpour. The rainy season should be ending soon… but perhaps global warming was messing with the weather patterns. I’d heard the weather forecaster on the morning news lamenting that Tokyo had become a subtropical climate. ‘They called it a squall in my past life…’ I always carried an umbrella, but today’s rain seemed determined to soak everything, the water splashing up to my ankles, puddles forming in every divot in the pavement.

“Wow… this is coming down hard,” Mizuki said, frowning as she put on her shoes.

“I’m heading out! I hate waiting! See you tomorrow!” And with that, she unfurled a large umbrella and dashed out into the rain, waving at us as she disappeared into the deluge.

“Mizuki’s amazing…” I sighed, watching her go. The street in front of the school gates was flooded, a river of rainwater flowing along the curb. Cars, waiting to pick up students, were lined up along the street. I didn’t want to get sick again… the rainy season seemed to be over, but these sudden downpours were a regular occurrence throughout the summer.

“Rina,” Aya said, her voice calm, “it’s just a shower. Should we wait it out?”

“Can we…?”

“Yes. It should stop soon.” I nodded at her reassuring words. Waiting with Aya wasn’t so bad.

We folded our umbrellas and went back inside, walking down the quiet, empty hallway, the rhythmic drumming of rain against the windows echoing through the deserted school. “It feels different without all the people,” I commented, breaking the silence.

“It does,” Aya agreed.

The classrooms and hallways were empty. Even though midterms had ended a month ago, the pressure of maintaining good grades at Takamari Academy was intense, most students spending their afternoons at cram schools or studying at home. Even club activities had dwindled, most clubs using the older buildings, leaving the high school building almost deserted. As we walked, Aya turned to me, a playful smile on her lips. “Rina, want to come with me?”

“Where are we going?”

“Just… somewhere we don’t usually go.” She took my hand, and we climbed the stairs, arriving at the art room, empty and silent.

“The art room?”

“The view from here is nice.”

She opened the door, the scent of paint and paper filling the air. We walked over to the window, the school garden below drenched in rain, the colors of the trees and flowers intensified, raindrops shimmering on the leaves like tiny jewels.

“…Beautiful,” I murmured, and Aya, standing beside me, smiled softly, looking out at the rain-soaked garden.

“I love the view from here on rainy days.”

We stood there, side by side, watching the rain, the droplets clinging to the windowpane, each one reflecting the light like a tiny prism. I leaned against Aya’s shoulder, and she didn’t move away, her warmth a comforting presence. I felt a sudden wave of drowsiness. ‘Aya isn’t a pillow…’

“The rain… it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she replied softly, and we stood there in comfortable silence, the rhythmic drumming of the rain a soothing backdrop to our shared thoughts, our unspoken emotions.

“Rina, remember when you caught that cold last month?”

“Yeah… that was rough.”

“I’ve been worried about you every time it rains since then.” Her words made my heart flutter. I was so weak against her kindness…

“Sorry for making you worry, Aya…”

“I don’t want you to get sick,” she said, her voice calm, but her cheeks were slightly pink. I smiled, looking at her, touched by her concern.

The rain, which had seemed endless, finally began to ease. “Are we even allowed to be in the art room like this?” I asked, and Aya replied, her voice nonchalant, “It’s fine. No one’s going to steal anything at Takamari Academy.”

“True…” It was strange. In my past life, the art room had always been locked. Here, it seemed to be permanently open, a testament to the school’s… abundance, its implicit trust in its students. I glanced around, noticing the paintings on the walls: watercolors, oil paintings, pencil sketches… all left unattended in the quiet, rainy afternoon. “Who painted these?”

“Some are by the teachers, some by alumni, some by current students. That one is by a senpai who’s a professional artist now.”

She pointed at a painting of three girls sharing an umbrella in the rain, the title: Second Trinity.

“Ah… the Second Trinity.”

Aya looked at the painting and smiled faintly. “There were two Trinities before us.”

“It was painted ten years ago.” It was strange. Why did this school have this… obsession with beauty? And where had the term “Trinity” even come from? It was just a school rumor, a bit of harmless gossip, yet it held a certain weight, a significance that felt… almost legendary, something you couldn’t know unless you asked the alumni directly.

Aya turned to me, looking out the window. “The rain’s almost stopped. Should we go?”

“Yeah, okay.” The drumming of the rain against the windows had subsided, the music from the band practice in the hallway now clearly audible. We walked towards the entrance, the fresh, rain-washed air invigorating.

“It was nice… staying a little longer because of the rain.”

“It was,” Aya agreed, her eyes meeting mine, a soft smile playing on her lips, a smile meant only for me. I felt a sudden surge of gratitude for the unexpected downpour.

****

The next morning, as we walked to school, Mizuki, ever the playful instigator, linked arms with us, grinning.

“So~ you two had a secret date at school yesterday~? While it was raining~?”

“N-No, we didn’t!” I quickly denied, flustered, glancing at Aya, who, surprisingly, just smiled calmly.

“We did,” she said, and I gaped at her.

“W-What?!”

“Well, if you two are happy, who am I to judge? Haa~ I wish I could date whoever I wanted. My family would never approve~” she sighed dramatically. “I’m so jealous of you, Aya-ring~”.

Mizuki’s family was incredibly traditional, conservative. I couldn’t just laugh it off; the weight of those expectations, the limitations they imposed, was palpable. The Yukikawas were different, though. Even in the novel, Aya had been free to pursue her own romantic interests.

As we reached the school gates, a girl in uniform was waiting for us. She had long, black hair, neatly tied back, and a stern, almost cold, expression. She looked at us intently, then bowed her head slightly to Mizuki.

“Mizuki-ojou-sama, a moment of your time, if you please?”                                                                                                                                               

(TL Note– “Ojou-sama” (お嬢様) is a Japanese honorific term meaning “young lady” or “rich girl”, often used in a formal or respectful way. It’s a way to address a young woman with higher social standing or one perceived to be in a position of privilege. The “Ojou” part refers to a young lady, while “sama” is a suffix adding a layer of respect. )

“…Oh? Hina? What is it?”

‘Hina…? Minase Hina?’ I recognized her. She was a character from the novel, one who appeared when the protagonist had pursued Mizuki. As the daughter of a prominent family, Mizuki had always been… “managed.” Hina, a third-year, was her… handler. I hadn’t expected to see her, since I hadn’t pursued Mizuki romantically, like the protagonist had.

Mizuki’s face paled, her usual cheerful expression replaced by a look of… apprehension, and I glanced at Aya, who also seemed to recognize the girl, a knowing look in her eyes. Hina nodded curtly at Aya and me. “If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to speak with Mizuki-ojou-sama privately.”

“O-Oh… okay…” I nodded dumbly, completely flustered, and Mizuki, a strained smile on her face, said, “Sorry, I’ll be right back!”

As Mizuki walked away with Hina, I whispered to Aya, “She seems… scary.” Mizuki looked like she was being dragged off by a bully. Aya sighed.

“She’s from the Asakura family. Two years older than Mizuki. She’s been… looking after her since they were little.”

“Ah…” If even Aya, usually so kind and gentle, was speaking so bluntly… What kind of life had Mizuki led? Aya continued, her gaze averted, her voice calm.

“The Asakura family is very… concerned about Mizuki’s behavior, her friends, especially her relationships with… boys. So, Hina attends the same school to… keep an eye on her.”

Mizuki, usually so bright and cheerful, seemed subdued, almost… defeated, as she talked to Hina.

A few minutes later, Mizuki returned, waving apologetically, Hina following a step behind, her gaze cold and sharp, fixed especially… on me. Mizuki’s forced smile, the slight shadow in her usually bright eyes, made me feel uneasy. It was difficult to even offer a simple “Are you okay?” knowing someone was watching, listening to every word.

“Let’s go, we’re going to be late!” Mizuki said, her usual cheerful demeanor returning as she took our hands, pulling us towards the school building. But Hina’s silent presence, her watchful gaze, lingered in the air like a shadow.