Chapter 19: Weekend department store date (3)

After leaving the clothing store, we headed to a cafe. Perhaps from walking around the department store, or perhaps from the earlier fitting room shenanigans, we all seemed a bit tired. And Mizuki’s transformation was the most dramatic.

“Ugh… I don’t like skirts after all.”

“But you chose it because you liked it, didn’t you?”

“Rina, there’s a difference between ‘wanting to see it’ and ‘wanting to wear it,’” Mizuki replied, her face slightly flushed as she fidgeted with the hem of her skirt.

Her usual cheerful and carefree demeanor was gone, replaced by a demure posture that seemed both awkward and amusing.

“You wear a skirt to school every day.”

“That’s different. This is all… flowy… I don’t like it…”

I chuckled, watching her fidget. Her shy demeanor, so different from her usual confident self, was unexpectedly cute.

We entered the cafe, a bustling space filled with busy servers and chattering customers. Despite the noise, the atmosphere was strangely comforting.

We chose a table by the window. Aya and I sat together, with Mizuki across from us. We were all wearing matching blouses and black flared skirts, with the same black brooch pinned to our chests, almost like a uniform.

‘We… look like a group now.’

But my gaze drifted to my wallet. The 50,000 yen my mother had given me was still untouched.

‘Aya bought this outfit for me…’

I’d been hesitating at the counter, staring at the price tag, when Aya had paid for it. I would have been simply grateful, but…

I lowered my head, fiddling with my bag, my face burning. Aya’s smile and her words kept replaying in my mind.

“I’ll get this.”

“Huh?! N-No! It’s okay! I can pay!”

I’d waved my hands frantically, but Aya had just smiled and shaken her head, her expression unwavering.

“…It suits you, Rina.”

‘…Ugh… just thinking about it makes me blush…!’

It suited me? Had I made a mistake with my own outfit? I hadn’t thought it looked bad… Aya’s words kept echoing in my mind, making me feel dizzy.

“…So, Rina, what do you want to drink?”

“Huh…?” Aya’s voice, ironically, pulled me out of my reverie.

I thought we’d order at the counter together, but Mizuki was pulling out a notepad. It seemed she was going to order for us.

“What are you going to have, Rina?”

“What are you two having? I didn’t hear!”

“I’m getting an espresso con panna~ and Aya-ring is getting iced tea.”

I nodded and glanced at the menu board behind the counter. Despite the distance, I could easily read the various options written in Japanese.

But my choice was always the same. Affordable, and a cafe classic…

“Strawberry yogurt smoothie.”

“Oh~ that’s so Rina! Got it.” Mizuki grinned and headed towards the counter.

Aya and I were left alone at the table. A brief silence settled between us. With Mizuki sitting across from us and Aya beside me…

I fidgeted with my bag strap. “…Aya, um… thank you for buying the outfit earlier.”

“It’s fine. It suited you. Don’t worry about it.”

Those words again…!

‘Ugh, why does she say it so casually…!’

Being alone with Aya was awkward. The silence made me fidget.

‘This is so embarrassing… how did the protagonist in the novel manage to talk to Aya so easily?’

In the novel, the protagonist always knew what to say, cracking jokes and keeping the conversation flowing. But a shy person like me could never do that naturally. I stared at a random object on the table, lost in thought, when Aya’s gentle voice spoke.

“Rina, you’re cute.”

“…Huh? W-What? Oh, um, no!” I blurted out, waving my hands frantically.

But Aya just smiled at me, her eyes warm and amused.

‘Ah, Aya is so beautiful… no, wait, I need to say something!’

I decided to change the subject, searching for a safe topic.

‘Something natural… natural… ah!’

I remembered the book Aya had lent me. She’d given it to me after that first confession incident, when I’d fled back to the classroom, flustered. It was a novel by a Japanese author, a quiet coming-of-age story. I hadn’t finished it, but I thought it suited Aya.

“Um… Aya, that book you lent me…”

Aya blinked, tilting her head slightly. “Yes, did you like it?”

“I haven’t finished it yet, but… I really enjoyed the beginning. The author’s writing style is so calm and… the characters’ emotions are so delicately portrayed.”

“Right?”

Mentioning the novel made Aya’s eyes light up. She rested her chin on her hand and smiled. “I especially liked the part where the protagonist realizes her own feelings.”

“Oh, yes! That part! The protagonist didn’t even realize it at first, but…”

We began discussing the book, our conversation flowing naturally. Aya watched me, a gentle smile on her face. Her gaze was so warm… it made my heart flutter.

‘…Aya is… looking at me so tenderly…!’

The realization made me blush, and I quickly averted my gaze. “Um, where’s Mizuki? She’s taking a while.”

I tried to change the subject again, but Aya, following my gaze towards the window, simply replied, “…She is.”

It was a short response, but I noticed her gaze shift towards my hand. I instinctively flinched as her eyes met mine.

“There’s this thing in the novel…”

“Yes?”

“It says that if you hold hands, you can understand each other’s thoughts.”

“W-What?!” I exclaimed, startled, instinctively pulling my hand back.

But Aya, with a calm smile, extended her hand towards me. Her gaze held mine, and I hesitantly reached out.

‘Wait, was there such a scene in the book Aya lent me? Did I miss it?!’

As Aya’s fingertips brushed against my hand, a tingling sensation spread through my body. I inwardly cringed. Just then…

“What a lovely atmosphere,” a smooth, elegant voice interrupted.

Startled, I quickly pulled my hand away and turned to see a woman with a beautiful updo standing beside our table. She exuded a regal aura, the kind that would suit a red dress, but today, she wore a stylish white blouse and a beige skirt.

Shirazuka Yurika. A second-year student council member.

“Shirazuka-senpai, what brings you here?” Aya asked.

“I came to buy a perfume my mother requested. I was planning to take a break at a nearby cafe, and I didn’t expect to see you here.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Aya replied calmly, making space at the table.

But I noticed a flicker of annoyance in Aya’s eyes.

‘If Aya is this bothered… it’s not just embarrassment from being seen holding hands… she just dislikes Shirazuka-senpai? Was it like this in the novel too…? Why can’t I remember…?’

I smiled awkwardly, and Shirazuka-senpai gracefully took a seat. She smiled, her demeanor that of a perfect young lady. “I often come here. The atmosphere is lovely. It’s nice to meet you.”

Her gaze was warm and welcoming, but undeniably aristocratic. She commanded attention without being imposing. But… I knew who Shirazuka Yurika was in the novel. She hadn’t come to the department store for perfume… but for the arcade…

“Here’s our order!” Mizuki’s cheerful voice announced her arrival, carrying a tray laden with drinks. The tense atmosphere instantly dissipated. I silently thanked Mizuki, my savior.

As she placed the tray on the table, Mizuki spotted Shirazuka-senpai and grinned. “Hey~ Rika-tan~ What are you doing here?”

…Huh? Shirazuka-senpai narrowed her eyes and sighed.

“Mizuki… please don’t call me that in public…”

“Why not? We’re not at school.”

“I’m still your senior. Call me senpai.”

“Hee hee~ what’s the big deal?”

Shirazuka-senpai frowned at Mizuki’s playful tone, but her expression wasn’t unkind. Her gaze fell on Mizuki’s outfit, and her lips curled into a slight smile.

“And… what’s with that outfit? Have you finally decided to dress properly?”

“Oops…” Mizuki mumbled, shrinking under Shirazuka-senpai’s teasing gaze, her embarrassment evident.

I chuckled, watching their interaction. Actually, they were quite close.

In the novel, the Asakura and Shirazuka families had been allies for centuries, and Mizuki and Yurika had known each other since childhood. Their playful banter was underpinned by a deep, long-standing trust. It was a heartwarming dynamic.

Aya sipped her iced tea quietly, observing their exchange. I sat slightly apart, watching the three of them.