Chapter One | Facing the Match

♡♡♡

On the way back from the aquarium, Ayane kissed me, and that moment made me realize not only her feelings but my own as well.

In a life consumed by soccer, this is the first time I’ve ever felt something like this.

When I think of Ayane, a warm, simmering emotion wells up from deep within my heart.

I want to tell Ayane how I feel.

I want to play in the A-team’s match and win.

Holding these two desires, I head out for my morning run today.

“Can I… surpass Ryushin Kanegawa?”

Kanegawa is the most celebrated young player in Japan.

I never even imagined I’d stand on the same pitch as him.

This… in a way, it might be fate.

As a soccer player, I have no choice but to overcome him with results.

In love and in the match, I can only respond with results.

So, I sent Ayane a single Lime message:

“On May 16, there’s the first round of the Emperor’s Cup. It’s a big match, so I really want you to come watch.”

For my future as a soccer player.

For Ayane, who inspired me to rise up when I was a dropout.

I’m going to pour everything into this match.

“There’s no choice… but to win, right?”

♢♢♢

After Golden Week, Azaki and I were called to the A-team’s meeting room before officially joining the first-string squad.

Inside the meeting room were three A-team coaches and, at the center… the man who summoned us, a stout, middle-aged guy with sharp, intimidating eyes.

He might not look like much, but… this is Coach Murasaki, the head of Koto University’s A-team.

A legendary coach at the prestigious Koto University, known for sending countless players to the pros every year. While he usually leads the A-team, rumor has it he records and watches every single B-team match.

“…Seiichi Azaki, Yutaro Makijima. Good to have you here.”

“Yes, sir!” we both respond, our backs snapping straight at the sound of our names.

“I called you here today for one reason: your integration into the A-team.”

With that, Coach Murasaki slowly approaches us.

“Before you officially join the A-team, we’re presenting you with the Koto University A-team uniforms, worn only by first-string players.”

At Murasaki’s nod, a coach hands us each two uniforms—one for home games, one for away.

U-Uniforms?

“When I first became coach at Koto University, there was no clear distinction between first and second strings; all players trained together. But eventually, I split the team into A and B squads to push everyone to step up. That’s when we also separated the uniforms for A and B. Be proud that, as first-years, you’re allowed to wear these.”

“Y-Yes, sir…”

So it was Coach Murasaki who divided the team into A and B squads.

But, like, we’d get uniforms closer to match day anyway, right? Why hand them out now, before we’ve even joined? Unless… is this some kind of final test? A match, right here, right now…?

“Now that you’ve got your uniforms,” Coach Murasaki continues, “it’s time for you to—”

I swallow hard.

W-What kind of test is this gonna be…?

“—put on the uniforms and get your pictures taken.”

“Huh?”

The uniforms… for pictures?

“Uh, why do we need pictures?” I blurt out, caught off guard by the completely unexpected request.

“Nowadays, the Emperor’s Cup is streamed online starting from the first round, so we need your photos for the broadcast. Plus, we could use them for the university’s website, so go put on those uniforms and get ready to shoot.”

As Coach Murasaki explains, the assistant coaches start setting up a camera and backdrop.

Here I was, thinking they called us in before joining the A-team for some big reason… and it’s just for photos?

All that nervous energy for nothing.

“As for your jersey numbers, they’ll change from time to time, but for now, Makijima, you’re number 16. Azaki, you’re 21. No complaints, right?”

Jersey numbers, huh.

Come to think of it, Azaki once said he wanted us to claim Koto’s number 9 and 10 someday.

Personally, I’m fine with 16—it’s low-key, no pressure. I’m relieved.

But, predictably, Azaki, with his overinflated pride, is clearly unhappy, his face practically screaming disgust.

“Wait a sec, Coach,” Azaki says.

“What’s up, Azaki? Got a problem?” Coach Murasaki replies.

“Yeah, I do. Why’s Makijima getting a lower number than me?”

Ugh, I knew he’d say that.

Azaki, fearless—or just plain stupid—goes straight at the coach with his complaint.

We haven’t even started A-team practice yet, and he’s pulling this? Seriously, knock it off.

If this messes up Azaki’s shot at joining the A-team, it’ll be a problem for me too. Guess I’d better step in and smooth things over.

“H-Hey, Azaki, who cares about that? We just got promoted to A—don’t complain. Look, if it means that much, I’ll swap with you. I’m fine with 21.”

“What are you talking about, Makijima? I’m not okay with that,” Coach Murasaki cuts in.

He steps forward, suddenly reaches out, and shoves his right hand into Azaki’s mop of curly hair, ruffling it even more.

“Listen up, Seiichi Azaki. You’re whining because you feel like a higher number means we expect less of you compared to Makijima, right? Well, you’re not wrong. I don’t know how other places do it, but at this university, a lower jersey number means higher expectations. So yeah, that’s exactly what it means.”

“So… you’re saying you expect more from Makijima than me?” Azaki asks.

“Exactly.”

W-Wait, Coach expects more from me than Azaki?

It’s hard to believe, but… I’ve heard Coach Murasaki’s more of a motivator than a tactician. Maybe he’s saying this to light a fire under Azaki.

Still, this kind of intense vibe on day one feels like it might backfire…

“Seiichi Azaki… let me make one thing clear. This isn’t the kind of team where you get to call the shots like before. This is my team, built from the ground up. So, if you think you can strut around like some king, I have zero intention of making you the center of this squad.”

Coach Murasaki says this calmly, pulling his hand away from Azaki’s curly mop of hair.

“If you want to earn a starting spot, get serious about soccer. I sent you to the B-team from the start of your first year to instill some grit in you. I’ve heard your attitude’s improved a bit, but with this behavior, I’m not so sure.”

“I’ve changed,” Azaki declares.

“Oh?” Coach Murasaki raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t need you to tell me—I’ve already quit messing around with girls and started taking soccer seriously. That’s exactly why I’m not okay with my jersey number. And… I made a promise with Makijima. I’ll do whatever it takes to make him the ace.”

Azaki steps forward, facing Coach Murasaki head-on.

W-Wait, Azaki, you quit chasing girls? That’s news to me!

Is he telling the truth or just spouting nonsense? I’m the closest to him in this room, and I’m the one with the most doubts. What is going on here?

“Hmph. Talk is cheap. Let’s see if you mean it,” Coach Murasaki says.

Exactly, Coach. Couldn’t agree more.

“Then I’ll prove my resolve right now. Before we take those photos, can I do something?” Azaki asks.

“What’s that?” Coach Murasaki replies.

Azaki suddenly reaches up, grabs his own hair, and yanks.

What the hell is he doing…?

“Hey, Azaki! What are you—”

The moment Azaki pulls his hand down, his trademark curly perm falls off like some kind of magic trick, landing in a fluffy pile on the floor—wait, WHAT!?

“D-Dude! Your signature curls just… fell off!?”

“To show my resolve to you today, Coach Murasaki… I shaved my head.”

Azaki’s head is now a pristine buzz cut, like some old-school high school baseball player. It’s so cleanly shaved—well, with a few patchy spots—that it’s almost too real. I’m kinda freaked out.

“Azaki, why’d you do this to your head!? What happened to your perm!?”

“What are you talking about, Makijima? Getting a haircut after a heartbreak is totally normal, right?”

“That’s way too extreme! And what does that have to do with your resolve!? Also, heartbreak? What heartbreak!?”

I can’t even keep up with how little sense this makes.

As we’re going back and forth, Coach Murasaki just stares at us, deadpan.

W-Wait, did Coach know Azaki was wearing a wig when he ruffled his hair earlier? That would be some next-level perception…

“Seiichi Azaki,” Coach Murasaki says.

“Yes, sir?” Azaki responds.

“Next time, teach me how to make a wig that realistic.”

…Yeah, probably not.

              ☆☆

The day after we received our uniforms and finished the photo shoot, Azaki and I headed to the A-team’s practice field.

As we walk side by side, I still can’t get used to Azaki’s buzz cut. It’s just… weird.

“What’s up, Makijima? Staring at me?” Azaki says.

“N-No, it’s just…”

“What, you falling for the buzz-cut me?”

“I’ve been weirded out since yesterday!” I snap back.

After yesterday’s aggressive showdown, today’s Azaki is back to his usual goofy self.

Honestly, I prefer this version of him—it’s easier to talk to. But yesterday, he was going toe-to-toe with Coach Murasaki. Is he secretly bothered that I got a lower jersey number?

“Hey, why don’t you shave your head too, Makijima? It’s super comfy,” Azaki suggests.

“Nah, I’ll pass.”

“What’s that? Shave your head and freak out all the girls around you!”

“The reason you’re freaking people out has nothing to do with your head, dude. Especially Aihara—she’s been put off by you since day one.”

“Bringing up Aihara-san to the new me? Ugh, you’re such a hot jerk. Go get dumped by Sasaki-san already!”

Azaki blows a bubble with his gum, tossing out insults.

Aihara? Wait, is that what he meant by that heartbreak stuff yesterday?

“Hey, Azaki. You mentioned a heartbreak yesterday… was that about Aihara?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he admits.

“What the hell, man? You were so gung-ho about not giving up on her before. What happened? Did you confess to Aihara and get shot down?”

“…I’m just tired, you know? Aihara-san’s way more stubborn and loyal than I thought. No matter how hard I try, a sloppy guy like me doesn’t stand a chance with her. I finally got that.”

Azaki flashes a forced smile, scratching his buzz-cut head awkwardly.

“But, like, that’s what makes her such an interesting girl. I don’t really wanna give up, but I don’t wanna get in her way either.”

“Azaki…”

Sorry to interrupt your serious moment, but I can’t focus on what you’re saying because of all the dandruff you’re scratching off that buzz cut.

“Anyway, what about you, Makijima? You and Sasaki-san gone all the way yet?”

“W-What do you mean, ‘all the way’!?”

No way we have! I start to deny it, but then I remember that kiss.

The feeling of her lips on my cheek, Sasaki’s bright red face.

No matter how much time passes, I can’t forget it.

“Hey, Makijima, you listening?” Azaki presses.

“N-Nothing! There’s nothing going on with Sasaki…”

“I see… so you’ve already kissed, huh?”

“I didn’t!” I protest.

“Ugh, flirting behind my back like that. Don’t forget, I’m the love cupid who brought you two together at that mixer!” Azaki says.

A buzz-cut, annoying-as-hell cupid like him? Yeah, I’d rather pass.

While we’re caught up in pointless relationship talk, we arrive at the A-team’s practice field.

At the entrance, an A-team coach wearing a cap pulled low is waiting.

“Good morning!” we both say in unison.

“Morning,” he replies. “I’m Coach Tamura. I’ll show you around.”

For the next half hour or so, Coach Tamura explains the A-team’s locker room setup and practice schedule. After that, we jump right into joining the team for practice.

“Your press is too slow! Get in there faster!” a coach yells.

“Sorry!” I reply.

“Hey, first-year bald guy! Drop back and help build the play!” another shouts at Azaki.

“S-Sorry!” he responds.

Once practice starts, it’s just one apology after another all day.

Azaki, the smooth-talking social butterfly, seems to be blending in with the team already, but I’m still struggling.

Throughout the day’s practice, I couldn’t pull off any standout plays, and the upperclassmen clearly don’t see me as one of them yet.

Practice stretches on past sunset, with floodlights switching on for night training.

The A-team’s ball speed, physicality, and tactics… everything is on a whole different level compared to the B-team.

I get now why Coach Murasaki split the A and B teams to raise the quality. The A-team is made up of the absolute cream of the crop among the players who join Koto University every year.

These guys could hold their own against pros—a true first-string squad.

“Practice is over… Yutaro Makijima, you stay behind,” Coach Murasaki orders.

“Y-Yes, sir,” I reply.

Barely keeping up with practice was tough enough, and now Coach calls me out by name for extra training after hours.

But… it makes sense, doesn’t it?

On the darkening field, I keep striking the net, timing my shots to Coach Murasaki’s crosses.

“One more!” he calls.

“Yes, sir!” I shout back.

I don’t have Azaki’s exceptional ball control or the kind of dribbling that shakes defenders.

Even so, I thought getting called up to the A-team meant I’d grown somehow… but I’m not even sure what that growth is.

I want… the kind of skill Azaki has, something that makes people take notice.

Anything… just something.

Frustration boiling inside, I meet a left-wing cross with a perfect header, slamming the ball into the net.

“Haa… haa…” I pant.

Even if it’s just shooting practice with crosses, firing off shot after shot is starting to wear me out.

“Yutaro Makijima,” Coach Murasaki says, walking over to me as I rest my hands on my knees.

“Yesterday, I said I expect more from you than Azaki. Do you know why?”

“N-No, I don’t,” I admit, wiping sweat from my brow and facing him.

“Yutaro Makijima… your trapping is awful, your dribbling is average at best, and your only weapon is poaching goals off your teammates’ setups. Normally, you’re not the kind of player we’d recruit on a sports scholarship.”

Coach Murasaki lays out my flaws matter-of-factly.

It’s brutal, undeniable truth, like rubbing salt in an open wound.

“But… that’s what makes you great.”

“Huh?” I blink.

“You’re terrible at dribbling and trapping, with no talent for anything but shooting. And yet, because of that, you’ve believed in that one skill and made it this far. In today’s practice, you put 28 out of 30 crosses into the frame. During Golden Week’s matches, every time you played, you were involved in a goal.”

Coach Murasaki kicks the ball at his feet, catching it neatly in his hands.

“Don’t try to do everything yourself. Soccer isn’t a sport where one guy can control the whole game. Lean on your teammates, and all you need to do is show everyone what makes you different in front of the goal. Got it, Yutaro Makijima?”

As he hands me the ball, the fog in my mind clears in an instant.

“Stick to your one weapon. Don’t be half-hearted.”

Come to think of it… back when I was struggling in high school, Coach Kishihara told me the same thing.

One weapon is enough… huh.

“What’s up?” Coach Murasaki asks.

“N-Nothing. It’s just… an old mentor told me something similar once.”

“Kishihara, right?”

“You know Coach Kishihara!?”

“Of course. He was my kōhai back in university.”

TN: A kōhai is a Japanese term meaning “junior” or “underclassman.”

Oh, right… didn’t Coach Kishihara play for Koto University back in his day?

“Um, I… I want to repay Coach Kishihara,” I say. “Back in high school, because I wasn’t good enough, I couldn’t get Coach Kishihara to the nationals for three years. So, I—”

“If you want to repay Kishihara…” Coach Murasaki cuts in, “you might get that chance sooner than you think.”

“Huh…?” I blink.

“He’s—”

Murasaki stops mid-sentence, his brow furrowing suddenly.

“No, never mind. You’ll find out eventually.”

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Let’s get back to practice,” he says.

At Coach’s command, extra training continues.

What did he mean by “you’ll find out eventually”?

                           ♡♡♡

Even after kissing Makijima, I’ve been going about my daily life.

We haven’t seen each other much since then, and things have felt a bit awkward, but ever since he asked me to come to his match, I’ve had a feeling something’s going to happen that day.

No, just waiting for something to happen isn’t enough.

That’s… the same old me. I haven’t grown at all.

Tomorrow’s Makijima’s match, and after watching it, I need to meet him properly, apologize for kissing him out of nowhere, and clearly tell him how I feel.

“I have to say it myself. That’s my responsibility as the older sister figure, right?”

But, deep down, I’m still a little scared.

I think Makijima and I have gotten closer, bit by bit. We’ve become friends.

Eating pancakes together, watching soccer, going shopping… being with Makijima was always fun.

But if I confess… it might ruin everything.

He asked me to come watch his match, but what if that’s his way of saying he’s focused on soccer and can’t date? A polite rejection?

Ugh! The more I think about it, the more negative I get!

But this is how much I’ve fallen for Yutaro Makijima, the soccer player.

On that snowy field, kicking the ball, he stole my heart at first sight… and I fell in love without meaning to.

It took so long to finally get to know him.

When I think about all the effort it took, I feel like I can finally share the feelings I’ve kept locked inside.

I need to tell Makijima how I really feel…

“Sasaki-chan, class is over,” a voice says.

“Huh?”

I’d been zoning out through the second period lecture, and before I knew it, it was done.

Aihara-san, sitting next to me, peers at my face with concern.

“You were totally out of it the whole class. You okay?”

“S-Sorry, Aihara-san! I’ve been a bit sleep-deprived lately!”

“Hm, sleep-deprived…” Aihara mutters, her brow furrowing with a pout.

“Aihara-san?” I ask.

“So, uh… does that mean you and Makijima-kun have been, like… doing stuff?”

“Huh? Makijima?”

Why’s she bringing up Makijima?

I’m completely lost, staring blankly, when I notice Aihara’s face slowly turning redder and redder.

“S-Sorry! Forget I said anything!” she blurts out.

Aihara’s face is now apple-red, and she’s shaking her head furiously.

Why’s Aihara-san so red…?

“Hey! More importantly, Sasaki-chan, you’re heading to Room 301 for the next class, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Then let’s go together! I still have some stuff I wanna ask about!”

“Uh, sure.”

Aihara-san’s talking super fast for some reason.

Why’s she so flustered? She’s acting weird.

Not quite understanding, I follow Aihara-san toward Building 3.

“So, what’s this thing you wanted to ask about?” I say.

“Uh, well! It’s about how far you and Makijima-kun have—uh—”

We’re chatting as we step into the hallway connecting to Building 3—when it happens.

“Ow!”

Aihara-san bumps into someone, and the impact sends her lecture notes scattering across the floor.

“S-Sorry!” Aihara-san apologizes, scrambling to gather the loose handouts.

“No… my fault. These sunglasses make it hard to see,” says the other person.

It’s a woman with light brown sunglasses, dressed in a tomboyish hoodie and pants, her straight hair and mature demeanor standing out.

She quickly picks up Aihara-san’s notes, neatly tucking them back into the folder before handing it over.

Wow, she’s so efficient.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Aihara-san says.

As they stand, I get a strange sense of déjà vu from the woman’s height.

Wait, hold on… this person…

There’s something familiar about her disguise, too.

Time seems to freeze as we both fall silent, staring at each other.

“…”

“…”

No mistake.

This is… Mizuki-san.

Facing her like this, it’s unmistakable. She has that kind of presence.

But why is Mizuki-san here…?

I swallow hard, trying to steady my ragged breathing from the shock.

“Sasaki-chan? Do you know her or something? A-Are you okay?” Aihara-san asks.

“Aihara-san, go ahead to class. I’ll be a little late.”

“Um, Sasaki-chan—”

“I… have something to talk about with this person,” I say, quickly gesturing for the woman in sunglasses to follow me.

As I start to walk away, someone suddenly grabs me from behind.

“No way!”

Aihara-san clutches my right hand tightly.

“Huh? Aihara-san, let go!” I say.

“No!” she insists.

“Why not!?”

“Because! My dear friend is suddenly saying she’s going off to talk with some shady woman in sunglasses! There’s no way I’m letting you go alone!”

“Aihara… san.”

Dear friend…

To think Aihara-san sees me that way.

I’ve never really had close friends before.

Even among the members of my idol group, I didn’t have anyone I was particularly close to, and I never tried to make those kinds of bonds.

“…Heh, you’ve got a good friend there, Ayane,” the woman says.

Tsukino-san glances around to make sure no one’s watching, then takes off her suspicious light brown sunglasses, hooking them onto the left pocket of her outerwear.

That powerful, captivating gaze.

Those intense eyes lock onto me and Aihara-san.

“Wha—!? Y-You’re… MIZUKI!?” Aihara-san exclaims, her hands trembling as her eyes widen.

“As expected… Why are you here, Mizuki-san?” I ask.

“You’re one to talk. From the looks of it, you’re keeping secrets even from your dear friend. Isn’t that a bit rude to her?” Tsukino-san retorts.

“Ugh…” I wince.

Mizuki-san’s always been sharp-tongued.

She’s the type who makes sure any favor she does gets repaid, and her quick wit is exactly why she became the leader of Genesistars.

“S-Sasaki-chan, what’s your connection with MIZUKI-san…?” Aihara-san stammers.

At this point, there’s no hiding it from Aihara-san anymore.

There’s no way I can brush this off with some lame excuse like “MIZUKI-san’s just an acquaintance~” in a situation like this.

I slowly take off my glasses and mask.

Facing Aihara-san properly, I finally… reveal my face.

“I’m sorry, Aihara-san…” I say.

“W-W-Wahhh…!” Aihara-san gasps.

“I’m actually… Kiraboshi Ayane.”

Aihara-san, overwhelmed with shock, looks like she’s about to foam at the mouth and pass out, completely thrown into chaos.

“Hehe, well, this isn’t exactly the place for a chat, so how about we move somewhere else? And since your friend here’s seen us, she’ll have to come along,” Tsukino-san says.

I give a small nod, put my mask back on, and take Aihara-san’s hand.

“Let’s go, Aihara-san.”

“Uh… okay,” she mumbles.

Poor thing… I’m not sure if that’s the right word, but Aihara-san’s in on it now.

At this point, like Tsukino-san said, we can’t just let her go home.

Ugh, if I hadn’t run into Tsukino-san, none of this would’ve happened.

Honestly, this is the worst day.

Swallowing the stress that’s making me feel sick, I turn to Tsukino-san.

“Mizuki-san, I’ll pick a place where we can talk. Could you call a taxi?”

Tsukino-san nods silently and puts her phone to her ear.

“Sasaki-cha… I mean, Kiraboshi-san,” Aihara-san stammers.

“Just call me Sasaki, like always.”

“B-But…!”

“It’s fine. I’m still the same old me.”

“O-Okay. Got it.”

“The taxi will be here in two minutes,” Tsukino-san says.

The taxi’s sorted.

Now, where to talk… Right, there’s only one place.

For our discussion, I choose the café where Makijima and I ate couple’s pancakes before. It’s my go-to spot.

The owner there knows who I am, so it should be fine.

After Tsukino-san calls the taxi, I phone the café.

The owner picks up and says, “We’re dead today, so come on over!” agreeing cheerfully.

When we arrive at the café, the female owner, wearing a bandana, is waiting at the counter. As soon as we walk in, she puts away the shop’s sign.

“Ayane-chan! Thanks for bringing friends! Honestly, we’ve had no customers today, so I was just thinking it’s time for a big cleanup—”

“Um, today’s not really that kind of vibe,” I interrupt.

“Oh? But last time you were here with your boyfriend, and now you’re with friends! Wow, Ayane-chan, living the dream life, huh?” she teases.

If this woman didn’t have that annoying habit of poking fun, she’d actually be a pretty great ally… Sigh.

Rolling my eyes, I hand the owner a tip for letting us have the place to ourselves.

“Oh, Ayane, who’s this boyfriend of hers?” Tsukino-san asks.

Then Mizuki-san barged in from the side.

Here comes trouble.

“Oh my, you didn’t tell your friends? The day after Ayane-chan was gushing about finding her first love, she actually brought him along! As her boyfriend, no less! And wow, just as hot as in the photos. His name was Maki—”

“Stop! Just shut up!”

Like a broken coin purse that won’t close, I reached out to shut her blabbering mouth.

“Ayane’s first love…”

“What’s that, Mizuki-san? Planning to meddle in my personal life now?”

“No, not at all. Let’s just talk. Come on, you too.”

Mizuki-san reached for Aihara-san.

“W-Wait, me too? Sitting with two amazing people like you?”

“I don’t mind at all. And… now that you know who we really are, we can’t exactly let you walk away like nothing happened.”

“Y-Yeah, I guess…”

I felt awful for dragging Aihara-san into this mess.

We were led to a four-person table.

The place was fully reserved, so no one else was around, but just to be safe, we took a secluded spot away from the windows.

“By the way, may I have your friend’s name?”

“I’m Aihara Yuzu. Um, I’ve been a huge fan of MIZUKI-san forever! I listen to your new song from the internet every day!”

“Hehe, thank you, Aihara-san.”

Mizuki-san flashed her professional smile.

Right, that’s how she acts around regular people.

But while talking to Aihara-san, she kept glancing at me.

It gave me a bad vibe…

“Did you listen to my new song, Ayane?”

“As if I would.”

“…Well, figures.”

Even sitting at the same table, the gap between Mizuki-san and me never closed.

After all, she’s the one who pushed me away from what I loved—and pushed herself away too.

If it weren’t for that offer… I’d still be—

“Um, you two haven’t kept in touch since leaving Genesistars?”

Aihara-san, clueless, stepped right on a landmine.

The public doesn’t know about our feud or the messy details… It’s only natural they’d think we left on good terms.

“I don’t keep in touch with her. Honestly, I’d rather not see her face.”

“W-Wait, Sasaki-chan, that’s a bit—”

“It’s fine. Ayane’s always been childish, so she can only talk like that. I was open to meeting occasionally, but…”

“That condescending attitude… still the same, huh? What, still acting like the leader?”

“And you, still sulking over that? Your childishness has only gotten worse. Probably blushing while your sweet boyfriend pats your head, right?”

As Mizuki-san and I started bickering across the table, we both half-stood from our chairs.

“H-Hold on, stop! No fighting! Uh, shopkeeper, don’t just stand there staring—say something!”

“Have you decided on your order?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

♣♣♣

Calmed by Aihara, Mizuki and I sit back down, but we keep glaring at each other in silence.

Mizuki and I have never gotten along. It’s been that way since Genesistars.

Maybe because I was younger and always center, she constantly nitpicked me. When I wanted to hit pancake shops, she made up a “one shop, one pancake a day” rule, curbing my freedom.

The final straw was her solo debut offer. Without that, no weird rumors would’ve spread, and I might still be an idol.

That’s why I can’t like Mizuki.

And she must hate me too. If she does, she should just say it.

“Ayane? I didn’t come to fight today,” Mizuki says.

“You’ve been picking a fight this whole time.”

“That’s because you—never mind, let’s stop this pointless arguing.”

She sips her water and faces me. “I have two things to tell you.”

Two things? Did she come to Koto University just for this? But how does she know I’m here? Only Makijima and my parents should know.

Is some shady organization involved?

While I spiral into paranoia, Mizuki, oblivious, looks at me calmly and says, “First…” staring straight into my eyes.

“I want to apologize for that incident. The one that derailed our lives.”

I’m hit with mixed feelings. After years, she’s here for that?

Her guilt-ridden expression throws me off.

“Apologize for what?” Aihara asks beside me.

With Aihara here, I guess I have to explain that properly. Since one secret’s out, a few more won’t change much.

“Aihara, you know Mizuki and I quit being idols at the same time, right?”

“Yeah, it was all over the morning news. Kiraboshi Ayane for academics, Mizuki Tsukino to go solo as a singer-songwriter, right?”

“That’s the official story, but…”

“Was it different?” Aihara asks.

Mizuki stays silent. Of course she won’t speak up.

“Two years ago, Mizuki approached me about transferring to another agency,” I say.

“Transfer?!” Aihara gasps.

I dig into the memory, breaking it down. “She said she was moving to another agency to go solo and urged me to join her. She did it secretly, barely involving our agency, setting everything up before telling me.”

“That’s true, Mizuki-san?” Aihara asks.

Mizuki nods slightly.

“But that’s like betraying the agency that raised you!” Aihara says.

Exactly. Idols often switch agencies after graduating due to declining popularity or age, but Genesistars was at its peak. Mizuki and I were driving it to national fame.

“Naturally, I couldn’t accept transferring at our peak. Mizuki and I clashed, and it turned into a fight.”

“A fight? Between Kiraboshi Ayane and Mizuki Tsukino?” Aihara says, shocked.

I lost my cool back then. I trusted Mizuki, our leader, completely, so her transfer offer crushed me. She seemed outright evil for suggesting we both leave. After a heated argument, we became so estranged we stopped talking.

That fallout hurt Genesistars’ popularity.

“Soon after, the agency found out Mizuki was in contact with another agency. The president told her to graduate. And at the same time… I was told to graduate too.”

“You too, Sasaki-chan? But you refused, so you weren’t at fault!” Aihara protests.

“Rumors spread that I caused Mizuki’s retirement. Genesistars had ninety members, with factions. If I stayed, those rumors would’ve caused discord with Mizuki’s faction. I thought that, and the president said the same, urging me to graduate.”

“That’s awful!”

“You know how messy girl dynamics can be, Aihara.”

“I do, but…”

The president wasn’t thoughtless. He knew what staying would do to me and gave me an out.

“So that’s why I quit being an idol.”

After I finish, Mizuki bows so low her forehead nearly touches the table.

“Ayane, I won’t argue with what you said. I’m sorry.”

Two years have passed. My anger’s faded, but I still can’t trust her.

“An apology now doesn’t change anything. I can’t forgive or stay mad at you. I can’t take out old anger on you now.”

“I know. Still, I wanted to apologize. So—I’m truly sorry.”

☆☆

I’m an outsider, but I just heard something huge.

After, Sasaki-chan steps away to the restroom, leaving me and MIZUKI alone. MIZUKI stares at water droplets on the table, her mind elsewhere.

“MIZUKI-san?”

“What?”

“I don’t think you’re the type to betray the group! Was there a reason?”

She looks away, uneasy.

“MIZUKI-san!”

“At Genesistars’ peak, Ayane and I were shining too brightly, stifling the younger members’ growth.”

“What?”

She wipes a tear and faces me. “Many idol groups cling to a few popular members, causing the whole group to decline. I thought we needed a big decision—hence the transfer. But… it might’ve been a mistake.”

“MIZUKI-san…”

Years after their exit, to a casual fan like me, Genesistars has fallen from a top group to mid-tier.

“I’m glad I apologized to Ayane, even if it’s just for my own peace. She probably doesn’t want to see me…”

“But MIZUKI-san—”

“What?”

“You did it for the group, for Sasaki-chan! You thought going solo was right! She thinks you were selfish, but are you okay with that?”

MIZUKI’s just satisfied with apologizing, but Sasaki still misunderstands her.

“Thanks, Aihara-san. But to end a conflict, someone has to give in. Being the villain to Ayane keeps things from getting messier.”

“But—”

“I’ve said my piece. I should go.”

She finishes her iced coffee and heads to the cashier.

“Wait! You said you had two things to tell her!”

“Oh, right.” She returns, pulls a business card from her coat, and hands it to me. “Give this to Ayane. That’s the second thing. I’ll cover the bill, so you two take your time.”

She pays and leaves with a bow. I should’ve stalled her until Sasaki-chan returned, but I didn’t have the power or right.

What a heavy moment.

“Sorry for the wait, Aihara-san… Mizuki’s gone?” Sasaki-chan returns, her eyes red.

Did she… cry in the restroom?

“Sorry, Sasaki-chan!”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“If Makijima-kun were here, you wouldn’t have felt so bad. I shouldn’t have heard such a personal story.”

I’m too indecisive to stand up for anyone. All I could do was listen.

Sasaki-chan says Mizuki’s entirely at fault, but I feel Sasaki doesn’t understand Mizuki’s true intentions. It’s not about who’s wrong, but if Makijima were here, he’d have fully supported Sasaki-chan. I wasn’t enough.

“If it was Makijima, he wouldn’t even get it,” Sasaki-chan says.

“Huh?”

“He’s a soccer idiot, clueless about idols, and super dense!”

Her smile returns a bit. Talking about Makijima makes her look happy.

Right… Sasaki-chan and Makijima…

“I’m glad you were here, Aihara-san. If I faced Mizuki alone, it’d be like two years ago—a fight. You being here helped me settle things.”

She takes my hand. “So… thank you, Yuzu-chan!”

Yuzu-chan. The Kiraboshi Ayane from TV calling me by name… My eyes well up.

“Tch, thank you for sharing, Ayane-chan!”

Knowing her secret makes me feel closer. I hope we get even tighter.

“Anyway, Yuzu-chan, let’s order! We’re skipping lecture, so let’s go all out on pancakes!”

“Geez, Ayane-chan!”

As I reach for the menu, I remember the business card MIZUKI left.

“Oh, Ayane-chan.”

“What?”

“MIZUKI-san gave me this for you.”

“A business card…?” She freezes. “This is—”

☆☆

“Thanks, Yuzu-chan.”

“See you, Ayane-chan!”

It’s evening when I part with Yuzu-chan at the station near Koto University. I take the subway back to my apartment.

What a wild day. Mizuki came to see me?

I was harsh again, like back then. I know Mizuki’s not entirely to blame. She was tough on me, but it helped me grow. A perfect leader like her wouldn’t betray us easily.

She probably wanted to stop our popularity from overshadowing others. She’s not driven by greed or selfishness.

But I can’t accept it. I wanted to aim higher with Genesistars, competing fiercely with everyone, losing fairly before stepping back. Our exit left no clear ace, and Genesistars’ popularity tanked.

I don’t think Mizuki was all wrong, but her timing and the situation she created were a mistake. Her prideful apology must come from seeing Genesistars’ decline.

“Oh, that business card…”

Back in my room, I pull it from my bag. It reads: Sakaki Mayumi, Sakaki Production.

Seeing it at the café gave me chills.

That Sakaki-san… reaching out to me.

I open a photo on my phone: a nervous, grade-school me smiling stiffly next to a woman coolly removing her mask—Sakaki Mayumi herself.

She’s the one who inspired my idol dream. The charismatic center of the legendary five-member group Peace Lovers, she captivated me with her mature charm.

Before debuting with Genesistars as a third-generation member after passing their audition pre-high school, I got a short brown haircut to emulate her, that’s how much I admired her.

For her to send me a business card through Mizuki…

I knew about Sakaki Production and always dreamed of joining it after retiring as Kiraboshi Ayane to expand my career.

So I instantly understood the card’s meaning.

“It’s… an offer to return to showbiz, right?”

I stare at the card, conflicted, and open my phone’s call screen.

A chance to work with my idol, Sakaki-san. A dream come true. The path Kiraboshi Ayane always wanted.

“So that means… it’s what I—”

My phone buzzes. Incoming Call: Makijima♡.

“M-Makijima?”

“Hey, Sasaki… you doing okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine.”

We haven’t met since the kiss, with his practice schedule. Our conversation’s awkward.

“I ate six pancakes today!” I blurt.

“Geez, too lively! Especially your stomach.”

He talks like the kiss never happened, but it feels like he’s dodging it.

“So, about tomorrow’s Emperor’s Cup…”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got something to tell you! Well, I wanna show it through my play too, but…”

“Uh-huh…”

“Even if I don’t score or play, I need to tell you—”

“Don’t get soft.”

“S-Sorry.”

He’s earned his A-team spot but still lacks confidence. Time to fire him up.

“Let’s make a deal, like before.”

“Deal?”

“Like at the riverbank when we met.”

“Oh, yeah, we did that.”

Back then, he was moping, and I forced a promise to motivate him.

“I’ll watch tomorrow’s match, so you have to score. If you don’t, penalty game!”

“Anything I say, right?”

“Exactly!”

“Alright…” He pauses. “Sasaki?”

“What? Thought you hung up.”

“If I score… tomorrow night, we go home together.”

“Sure, but together where?”

“My place, obviously.”

“What?!”

“See ya tomorrow!” He hangs up.

I drop my phone, staring at the ceiling. “Makijima…”

I glance at the business card.

“Haha… ha!”

What was I hesitating for?

The stage I want to shine on isn’t showbiz. I came here to leave my idol self behind and be number one in Makijima Yutarou’s heart.

I chose this path.

I tuck Sakaki’s card into my photo album and toss it into the closet. Sorry, Sakaki-san, but this is Kiraboshi Ayane’s closure.

“I’m Sasaki Ayane now.”

And the place I want most isn’t Budokan or anywhere else—just beside Makijima Yutarou.