Chapter 81: Asakura Mizuki (2)

It was strangely quiet during break time. Usually, Mizuki would be perched on my desk, or leaning against the window, chatting away… but today, she sat quietly at her desk, staring out the window, lost in thought.

“Mizuki, are you okay?” I asked, concerned, and she quickly plastered a bright smile on her face.

“Hee hee, I’m fine~! Just a little sleepy… why~?”

“I was just wondering… if something happened with that senpai this morning…”

“Nothing happened~! Don’t worry about it~”. But her smile… it felt forced, strained. This wasn’t the usual Mizuki.

Aya, who’d been watching us quietly, spoke, her voice soft but firm.

“…Don’t push yourself, Mizuki.” It was a simple statement, yet her tone was laced with concern. Mizuki avoided Aya’s gaze, forcing a cheerful tone.

“Aw~ Aya-ring too~? I’m really okay! How about we go to the convenience store after school? Rina-tan, you too!”

“The convenience store?”

“Yeah, let’s get some sweets! Sugar fixes everything~!” She was clearly trying to act like her usual self, but I could sense the underlying tension, the forced cheerfulness masking something… else.

“Sure.”

“Hee hee, Rina-tan, you’re the best~! You too, Aya-ring~!” Mizuki waved enthusiastically, her exaggerated cheerfulness a stark contrast to her quiet demeanor earlier.

 Hina-senpai, from what I’d seen, was… intimidating. A servant of the Asakura family, their shadow, silently observing Mizuki’s every move…

In the novel, Hina-senpai had appeared when the protagonist had triggered Mizuki’s romantic interest flags. While the novel was supposed to be a one-on-one romance between Aya and the protagonist, his interactions with Mizuki had inadvertently drawn the attention of her family. And now, Hina’s appearance…

Could it be… that I’d somehow…? ‘No, that’s not possible…’ I looked at Mizuki, my brow furrowed with concern, then my eyes met Aya’s, her expression unreadable, a hint of… resignation in her gaze.

****

After school, Mizuki kept glancing over her shoulder as we walked, her eyes scanning the street behind us. Thankfully, her sharp senses detected no one following us.

‘Just for a little while… it should be okay…’ The brief conversation with Hina that morning still echoed in her mind.

“Mizuki-ojou-sama, your recent behavior at school has been… concerning. The family is… displeased.” Hina’s tone had been cold, disapproving, as always. It wasn’t surprising. Minase Hina, assigned to Mizuki since childhood, had always been there to reprimand her, to ensure she behaved like a “proper Asakura.”

And this time… it was about her declining grades.

Mizuki knew who she was, her place in the world, the expectations placed upon her.

But Hina… she was too much. Did she still see Mizuki as a child? But Mizuki lacked the courage to confront her, to voice her frustrations.

‘…Is it so wrong for me to… just want to be normal, to have friends…?’ She swallowed her resentment, a proper young lady, trained to obey, to hide her true feelings. She sighed softly and followed her friends into the convenience store. The familiar, sweet scent of chocolate beckoned, but she paused, resisting the urge to head towards her usual aisle. If she chose her usual chocolate bar, Hina would probably criticize her for being childish.

“Mizuki, what are you getting today?” Rina asked.

“Hmm… what to have…?” Mizuki’s gaze drifted to the dessert Rina had chosen.

‘Jersey Milk Pudding… Rina’s favorite…’ She picked one up, forcing a smile. Would this… make her seem more mature?

“Huh? You’re not getting chocolate?” Rina asked, surprised.

“I thought I’d try something new. A change of pace~” she replied, a playful lilt in her voice, glancing at Aya, who was watching them quietly. Aya was perceptive; she probably knew something was wrong.

Mizuki’s cheeks flushed slightly under Aya’s gaze, and she quickly headed to the cashier, the image of Hina, and her warning that morning, flashing through her mind.

‘Even this… just being normal with my friends… they won’t allow it…’

The family elders, and their puppet, Hina… they were always like this. And Mizuki, despite her resentment, could only obey. She was… the eldest daughter of the Asakura family.

****

Leaving the convenience store, we walked to Takamari Park, the air fresh and clean after yesterday’s rain, the scent of damp earth and leaves a welcome change from the city’s usual stale air. We reached our usual bench, and Mizuki, her usual energy absent, listlessly wiped the damp surface and sat down heavily.

This park, owned by the Takamari Foundation, essentially Asakura property, was Mizuki’s sanctuary. This particular bench, tucked away in a quiet corner, was a blind spot for the security cameras, a safe haven within Takamari’s walls, away from prying eyes and watchful guardians. But a nagging unease lingered in her heart.

“Pudding after school is the best!” Rina exclaimed, tearing open the lid of her pudding with a blissful smile, seemingly oblivious to Mizuki’s troubled mood. Mizuki’s lips curved into a small smile, watching her.

Rina, in Mizuki’s eyes, was like a small bird, free to soar through the open sky, unburdened by the weight of expectations and responsibilities, unlike Mizuki, trapped in her gilded cage. She felt a pang of envy, a bittersweet ache in her chest.

“…It is good,” Mizuki agreed, forcing a cheerful tone, then sighed softly, looking down at her half-eaten pudding.

“Mizuki, don’t worry too much.”

“Yeah…” Aya’s attempt at reassurance didn’t quite reach her, but her concern was genuine. Aya, her childhood friend, knew her better than anyone. They shared a similar burden, a similar weight of expectations, and Mizuki had often relied on Aya’s strength, her unwavering support.

But Mizuki’s gaze was now on Rina, on her carefree spirit, her freedom from the suffocating constraints of their world, and she found herself seeking comfort, a connection with someone who… understood, even if she didn’t fully grasp the complexities of Mizuki’s situation.

“Mizuki, you’ve been quiet all day,” Rina said, her voice gentle, concerned. She’d noticed. Mizuki hesitated, then decided to confide in her. Here, in this quiet corner of the park, away from prying eyes, she could speak freely. This was their space, a place where only the three of them could truly be themselves, and Mizuki wanted Rina to understand, at least a little.

“Hina-senpai… the one from this morning… she’s been assigned to… look after me. She follows me around, monitors everything I do, even at school. And… lately, she’s been… even more strict.” Mizuki’s voice was strained as she confessed, a rare display of vulnerability.

Rina was surprised. She knew about Mizuki’s situation, about Hina’s role, but she also knew Mizuki wasn’t one to share her burdens so easily.

“I’m… not sure if I can offer any helpful advice, Mizuki…” she said, looking at Mizuki, her gaze meeting those bright, cheerful brown eyes, eyes that could be surprisingly perceptive, eyes that had guided them towards the solution for the Spring Festival’s social media campaign. Rina hesitated, then continued, “Have you… ever talked to Hina-senpai directly?”

Mizuki’s eyes widened. “Directly…?”

“Yeah. She’s known you since you were little, so maybe she still sees you as a child… that’s why she’s so overbearing.”

Mizuki considered Rina’s words, and Rina continued, “So… maybe you should… tell her who you really are?”

Hina had always seen Mizuki as a spoiled little rich girl, a child who threw tantrums, obeyed her family’s every whim, incapable of independent thought or action. And the thought… it sparked a strange anger within Mizuki.

“That’s… a bit presumptuous—” she started to say, then stopped. “…You’re right. I can’t let her treat me like a child forever.”

It was so simple. Just tell Hina how she felt. Talking to Rina had helped. She’d never actually confronted Hina about this before.

‘I’m glad Rina’s here.’ Mizuki leaned against Rina, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over her. “Thank you, Rina-tan.”

“Huh…? It’s… nothing…”

“See? There’s a reason Aya-ring likes you~ Can I borrow you for a bit~?”

“Huh…?”

Mizuki grinned, her usual playful tone returning. Aya, watching them, smiled softly.

They sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds the gentle dripping of water from the rain-soaked leaves and the distant chirping of birds.