“So that’s the blue bird we were looking for, after all… We went searching so far away, but it was right here with us the whole time.” (Maurice Maeterlinck, The Blue Bird)

1

July 7th. Still the heart of the rainy season, and sure enough it was drizzling. Not a downpour—just a steady pitter-patter. Not enough to cancel a date. Besides, today I had something else to do before the actual date with Sagara-san.

We met outside the ticket gates at 4 p.m. Dinner was the main event, so we were a little early, but I’d asked her to come ahead of time because I had an errand to run first.

After finishing that errand, we still had time before the dinner reservation, so we killed it at a café. Sagara-san sat across from me, cheeks puffed out, clearly sulking. She’d been like this ever since the errand.

“I can’t believe I got used just for that girl’s sake.”

“Sorry… But you’re the only one I could ask, and you did help a lot.”

“Technically it’s because that girl was the one stalking me in the first place.”

“That’s true, but…”

“Hey, Shuu-kun. Can I ask you one thing?”

“Eh, what?”

She suddenly turned serious, and I panicked.

What could it be?

“Do you… maybe like that girl more than me?”

“…Huh?”

I couldn’t process it for a second. My brain froze.

“I mean—”

She cleared her throat, looking a little embarrassed.

“Ayase-san, was it? Which one of us do you like more—me or her?”

“W-What are you talking about? Ayase-san is my student, she’s not—”

I’d fantasized about a second date with Sagara-san many times, thinking I was ready for anything. But this conversation was completely outside my predictions.

I was flustered.

“At first I suggested popular body soap for young girls would be fine, but you insisted on something that ‘remains,’ something that would leave a lasting impression. Doesn’t that mean, deep down, you want to tie her down?”

“Sagara-san, seriously, what are you—”

“So you have no feelings like that at all? After we parted at the station last time, I talked to her a bit. That girl definitely likes you.”

“——Why would you even—”

“Woman’s intuition. I can tell.”

“No, it’s not about intuition—Aya-se is my student, she’s just teasing me, using me—”

Sagara-san narrowed her eyes.

“Using you? Are you hiding something from me?”

“N-No, nothing like that…”

“Hmm, fine. Then let me rephrase. Once she graduates and isn’t your student anymore—if she confessed, would you date her?”

“Wait, even hypothetically, teacher-student relationships are strictly—”

“Ah, you’re shaken. So it’s possible.”

“That’s not what I—”

I tried to argue, but Sagara-san let out a huge sigh.

“You’ve always been like that, Shuu-kun. Always thinking ‘Is this allowed?’ or ‘Can I do this?’ Shouldn’t it be ‘Do I want to?’ or ‘Do I not want to?’”

Do I want to, or not.

She was right. The times I just went for it without overthinking had actually worked out better.

Even wanting to become a teacher was like that.

While my mind spun, my phone vibrated.

A call.

“Answer it.”

“Unknown number… nah. If it’s important they’ll leave a message.”

“Good thinking.”

She smiled.

That smile reminded me a little of Ayase-san. I could almost hear her say, “80 points,” or “If it’s really urgent they’ll leave voicemail or text.”

“By the way, Shuu-kun, do you know the Blue Bird?”

“Maeterlinck’s story with Tyltyl and Mytyl?”

The Belgian playwright.

“Yes. They go searching far and wide for the bird of happiness, but it was at home the whole time.”

“Of course I know it…”

“I don’t think you do.”

What was she trying to say?

My phone buzzed again on the table.

Probably a notification.

Or— I checked.

“Voicemail.”

“Maybe it’s important? Listen to it.”

But who could it be?

Sales calls sometimes leave—

Then I noticed the number ended in 0110.

“Isn’t this… the police?”

Pretty sure that’s right.

“Eh?”

Sagara-san’s eyes widened.

But why?

About the stalker?

If so, they’d call Sagara-san, not me…

“I’ll listen.”

I played the voicemail.

It was about Ayase-san.

They needed me to call back immediately.

The officer who handled our statements earlier.

I told Sagara-san, then,

“I’ll call them.”

Dialed the police.

Got transferred right away, and—

“Eh—”

Ayase-san had fallen down the stairs of a pedestrian overpass and was unconscious, transported to the hospital.

Possibility of foul play, so emergency services contacted police, but currently believed to be an accident—slipped.

They couldn’t reach her family, so through the contact info she’d given during the stalker incident, they called me.

“Is Ayase-san— is she okay?”

The police didn’t know her condition.

They told me the hospital.

I knew the name.

Pretty close to where we were now.

“Understood. I’m heading there now.”

I hung up and looked at Sagara-san.

“Um…”

“Something happened to Ayase-san?”

“She fell down an overpass staircase, unconscious.”

“Eh…?”

“No signs of foul play, apparently. Remember she gave contact info during the stalker thing? That’s how they reached me.”

I stood, pulled two thousand-yen bills from my wallet, and placed them on the table.

“This is…?”

“For here. Next time I’ll treat you as apology. I have to go to the hospital.”

I turned to leave.

“Wait!”

A scream that sent chills down my spine.

It even felt murderous.

At the same time, weight on my arm.

Sagara-san had grabbed it with both arms, hugging it tight.

Her soft warmth pressed against me.

“…Why? Why do you have to go? She has family, guardians—”

“Ayase-san doesn’t get along with her family. So…”

“If I said I want you to stay here with me?”

“I… I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Why? Because she’s your student? Or—”

“Really, I’m sorry. I’ll cancel the reservation.”

“…I’m the one who’s sorry.”

The strength left her arms; they dropped.

“I’ll make it up to you next time.”

I left those words and ran toward the hospital where Ayase-san was.

2

“What do you mean ‘just a student’…”

Puffing her cheeks, Sagara Miyu muttered, then slumped face-down on the table.

“What am I even doing…”

Self-loathing swallowed her whole.

Worst possible timing.

That girl has an accident right now and steals Shuu-kun away.

(Maybe our fates just don’t align…)

It was the same back then.

I asked if he was free on a Sunday off; he said he had a mock exam at cram school.

Saturday was for studying for it.

Everything for his dream of becoming a teacher, to get into the same prestigious high school as the teacher he admired.

I loved that part of him too, but I was lonely.

I had no dreams, no goals, just living as my parents told me.

Even the high school I was aiming for was just a girls’ school within my current grades.

That emptiness, that loneliness—I ended up hanging out with party friends to fill it.

We went to karaoke with guys from a rough high school, some girls started smoking too.

The staff caught us, reported it to school, we got scolded.

I hadn’t smoked, so no heavy punishment, but rumors spread that I was a slut.

Of course it reached Shuu-kun’s ears.

Yet he never said anything, treated me exactly the same.

That actually hurt.

I started thinking he didn’t really love me, and one day I exploded.

“Why won’t you ask me anything!?”

First time I ever yelled at him.

“Sorry.”

Same words as today.

That was his only answer.

From that day on, he stopped talking to me first.

We drifted apart naturally, graduated.

I went through high school, college, but never found a dream or goal like Shuu-kun’s.

Boyfriends from mixers never lasted; no matter who I dated, the hole in my heart stayed empty.

Even after getting a job, nothing changed.

I heard through the grapevine that Shuu-kun achieved his dream.

I was still empty.

Different worlds.

Growing further apart.

If I’d chosen differently back then.

If I’d said I wanted to go to the same high school and studied hard.

If I’d begged my parents to let me join his cram school and studied together—would the future have been different?

Did I love him that much?

Or was it just admiration?

I don’t know.

It’s the same now.

I feel the gap between us again.

Jealous of his own student.

Trying to play the adult woman’s game of love.

Trying to act cunning instead of like a girl.

Competing.

And once again, we pass each other by.

“Sigh… maybe call someone and go drink…”

Making excuses again, running away again.

Nothing has changed since back then.

Shuu-kun and I live in different worlds.

We don’t match.

Even if we love each other, we can’t be together.

That’s the excuse I tell myself.

(But that girl is the same)

She and Shuu-kun live in different worlds too.

That love can never come true.

Mine can’t either—

“But damn it, I hate losing first.”

I met him before she did.

I know him better than she does.

(I’m just as bad at being honest… just as unchanged since back then)

I never grew up.

What should I have done?

What did I want Shuu-kun to do?

“No no no, screw it, I’m drinking alone tonight…”

Empty my head with alcohol.

That’s what I decided.

3

At the hospital reception desk I told them I was her guardian. The police had already informed them I was coming, so they told me the room number right away.

I rushed into the elevator and headed for the fourth floor.

Room 402.

It looked like a private room from the outside. Just as I was about to knock, voices leaked through the door.

“Rena-chi, seriously, you saved me. I didn’t have anything with me. Thanks for going shopping for me.”

“But there’s only so much I can do alone. I’m still a minor—I can’t sign anything. You should’ve just called Sensei.”

“I told you, someone from Mom’s company is handling the paperwork, so it’s fine. Besides, Sensei’s supposed to be on a date with his ex right now… wait…”

“Ayase-san!”

“Eh—Sensei!? Why!?”

I flung the door open.

On the raised hospital bed, shirt off, back being wiped by Uzaki-san—was Ayase-san.

She had a bandage on her forehead, and more wrapped around her arms and legs.

“Uh… the police said you were unconscious… but I heard voices, so I’m really glad you’re awake…”

“Kyah—IDIOT! Sensei, get out! This is embarrassing!”

Thwack!

She hurled the tissue box at me.

“It’s a little late for modesty, don’t you think?” Uzaki-san laughed.

But Ayase-san wasn’t having it.

“Knocking is basic manners! Out, out!”

“Sorry!”

She yelled again, and I jumped back into the hallway.

“Rena-chi! Clothes, quick! And lend me your comb—!”

The door slammed shut.

(Jeez…)

It was the same old Ayase-san in there.

Relief washed over me so hard my knees almost buckled. I leaned against the corridor wall and nearly slid to the floor.

A minute later the door opened and Uzaki-san poked her head out.

“Sensei~, sorry about that. You can come in now.”

“You sure?”

“Totally sure, she pushed me inside.

There she was, propped against the raised backrest—long black hair, cheeks still faintly pink—glaring at me.

“…Why’d you come?”

“The police called and said you were unconscious. Of course I came.”

“But I woke up right away…”

“Nobody pushed you or anything, right?”

“Nope. I just slipped. My ankle was already hurting from before.”

“That time with the…”

I knew she’d hurt it kicking the stalker. I’d noticed her limping at school and asked about it.

Now she was the one asking.

“You were… on a date with her, weren’t you…?”

“Yeah, but when they said ‘unconscious,’ I had to come. And if it’s because of that old injury, I’m sure Sagara-san would understand—oh, right.”

Talking about Miyu reminded me.

“I didn’t think I’d get to give it to you today, but here.”

I pulled a bag out of my tote and handed it to her.

Her eyes went round when she saw the logo—one of those super popular brands among high school girls.

She took it hesitantly.

“What’s this…? Why…?”

“It’s your birthday today, isn’t it? You’re always helping me out, so I got you a present.”

“But… I thought you didn’t know…”

“Of course I know. I’m your homeroom teacher.”

Then I added,

“Well, technically teachers aren’t supposed to give individual students gifts… so officially this is from the ‘Sakuran-san’ I met on TWINS. Uzaki-san, you’re in on it too, okay?”

“Roger that ☆” Uzaki-san winked.

Good kid.

“T… thank you…” Ayase-san mumbled, pulling a neatly wrapped box from the bag.

“Can I open it?”

“Go for it.”

She carefully peeled the paper.

A plain white box with just the brand name.

Inside was a choker.

The moment she saw it, tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.

I knew they were happy tears… but still.

She was injured, probably emotionally fragile. People cry easier when they’re like that.

“Ayase-san, you okay?”

sniff “I’m fine… This is the one that’s super popular right now… How did you even know…?”

“I didn’t know what to get, so I asked Sagara-san today. You’ve helped me so much, I figured she’d be willing to help pick something out something nice.”

“…Ughhh… You idiot! Asking her of all people!”

“B-but I didn’t have anyone else to ask… There were tons of styles, and I picked this one myself… Look, it’s got little stars that sparkle—perfect for Tanabata, your birthday, right?”

Black base with tiny glittering stars all over.

I thought it suited her perfectly.

“Even so, you didn’t have to tell me that part… And it’s way too obvious. You’re such an idiot, Sensei.”

“Sagara-san said the exact same thing.”

“Don’t lump me in with her!” She glared through tears, then suddenly leaned forward.

chu

Something soft touched my cheek.

“…Thanks, Sensei.”

She looked away for a second, embarrassed, then met my eyes again.

“I really am happy ♡”

This smile wasn’t the carefree kid smile I was used to—it was breathtakingly grown-up, impossibly charming.

“But…” Her cheeks puffed out again. “It still kinda pisses me off that she helped pick it. Starting today, when you want to know what girls my age like, just search online—there’s tons of info. Pick presents with your own brain, not another girl’s opinion! Got it?”

She also scolded me for planning to give it after her actual birthday—should’ve been before, at latest the day of.

Looks like Ayase-san’s “coaching” isn’t ending anytime soon.

(Well… that’s only natural.)

I still don’t have a girlfriend, after all.

Uzaki-san watched our exchange with an exasperated grin.

“I came to visit my injured friend and somehow ended up watching a rom-com… Hey, Sakucchi, make Sensei put it on you.”

“Eh…?”

Ayase-san and I both froze.

I’ve never put a choker on anyone. Can I even do it?

“Here you go~”

Ayase-san turned her back to me on the bed.

Her pale, slender neck was right there.

I swallowed hard.

“L-like this…?”

I managed to clasp it.

She spun back around.

“How’s it look? Does it suit me?”

“…Yeah. You look cute. Really suits you.”

She broke into a huge smile.

“That answer gets a perfect 100… Congrats, first full marks ever.”

Then, looking straight at me,

“Hey, Sensei… no, Shūgo.”

“Shūgo…”

She fidgeted with her hair, looking embarrassed, so I was totally caught off guard.

“You said I’m not your student right now! So call me Sakuragi Sakuran. And say happy birthday. If you do that, I’ll forgive you for asking that woman about the present.”

“…Jeez, fine.”

If that’s all it takes to wipe the slate clean, I’m in.

Consider it an extra birthday gift.

“Uh… Sakuragi… san… happy birthday.”

“…………”

Ayase-san gave me the most fed-up look imaginable and half-glared at me.

“Hey! I actually said it!”

“You’re supposed to drop the ‘-san’ and just say Sakuragi! Like I’m your girlfriend—do it again!”

“E-ehh…”

I’d never called a girl by just her first name in my life—not even Miyu.

My heart was pounding.

“F-fine.”

It’s her birthday, after all. Good practice for the future.

I swallowed and tried again.

“Sakuran… happy birthday.”

Tears instantly welled up in her eyes.

“Thank you, Sensei—no… Shuu—”

BAM!

The door flew open.

4

“Eh…?”

Ayase-san and I both yelped at the same time.

I froze solid.

One of the two women who’d just walked in was radiating full-on celebrity aura even behind sunglasses.

I knew that face.

Kagami Yuri.

The idol who dominated the Heisei era, now a huge actress.

The other woman was probably her manager.

Kagami Yuri looked straight at me.

“Who are you?”

“Uh, I-I’m a teacher at Tsukishima High… Ayase-san’s homeroom teacher…”

It felt like a scene from a drama. While I was stammering under her aura,

“Don’t talk to Sensei!”

Ayase-san shouted from behind me.

She tried to climb off the bed and come over, but her leg buckled.

She staggered and collapsed to her knees.

“Ayase-san!”

“Sakucchi!”

I caught her; Uzaki-san rushed over too.

“You okay? Can you stand?”

We tried to help her up—she couldn’t. Still on her knees, trembling, she glared up at Kagami Yuri.

“Why are you even here?! You only show up when it’s convenient! Just leave, Mom!”

“…Understood.”

With only those words, the superstar turned and left—back view as perfect as a movie.

(Wait… Mom…?)

It took a second to process.

Kagami Yuri is Ayase-san’s mother…?

“I’m terribly sorry, ojou-sama. I tried to handle the paperwork, but the hospital was near the shoot location, and she insisted on coming herself…”

“It’s fine. Kaburagi-san, you can go too…”

“My apologies. Here—this is cake. It’s your birthday, after all. There are three, so please share.”

The woman called Kaburagi bowed and left.

Silence.

Ayase-san broke it.

“…Sorry, Sensei. And Rena-chi.”

“You don’t have to apologize… wait, you…”

“…Do I really have to explain?”

“Well… I can kinda guess.”

I glanced at Uzaki-san.

“You knew?”

She nodded.

“I kept it secret at first, but paparazzi caught us together once and it came out. But Rena-chi never treated me differently.”

Looking at Ayase-san’s profile now, I could definitely see the resemblance.

I also remembered the time she instantly turned off the TV when Kagami Yuri was on the news—probably hated seeing her own face next to her mother’s.

“You get why I hid that I’m Kagami Yuri’s daughter, right?”

“Yeah… I get it.”

Kagami Yuri’s reputation is… complicated. Plenty of negative press.

“When I was little, the media chased me nonstop. I worked really hard so no one would realize I was ‘that woman’s kid.’”

Her voice was quiet. You could tell she’d been through a lot. Even I’d seen tabloid stories about “Kagami Yuri’s daughter.”

(And that daughter was Ayase-san the whole time…)

The constant appearance changes were probably camouflage against the press. Her current look aside, the glasses-and-braids school version didn’t resemble Kagami Yuri at all. Her confidence in fancy shops, the way she never got intimidated—made perfect sense now.

The dramatic flair, the occasional villainess vibe… let’s table that for now.

The “free-range parenting” and fat allowance also suddenly clicked.

I’d wondered what kind of parent lets their kid run that wild, but turns out Ayase-san was basically top-tier elite.

Everything finally connected.

“More importantly, Sakucchi—can we eat this? I’m starving.”

Uzaki-san pointed at the cake box Kagami Yuri had brought, trying to lighten the mood.

“Do whatever.”

“Sweet!”

She opened it.

“Whoa, strawberry shortcake! And three of them! Wait—this is from that super famous place, right?”

There really were three perfect strawberry shortcakes—probably meant for Kagami Yuri, the manager, and Ayase-san.

“Sensei… Sakucchi… you’re eating too, right?”

After a pause,

“…Yeah, I’ll eat.”

People paint Kagami Yuri as a selfish celebrity who ignores her kid, and Ayase-san says similar things.

But buying her daughter’s childhood favorite cake on her birthday, even when she’s unconscious…

(She’s not a bad mom.)

I don’t know the whole story between them.

But—

“Sensei, is it good?”

“Yeah, insanely good.”

It’s from a shop even I know. Of course it’s delicious.

“I used to love this when I was little. I told Mom I’m not a kid anymore and have new favorites, but she still always buys these… I was starting to hate them, but—”

She went quiet, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“—eating it with Sensei… it really is crazy delicious.”

I could see the tears in her eyes.

▼ ▼ ▼

After we finished the cakes, visiting hours ended. Uzaki-san and I left the hospital together.

All the police stuff and paperwork had been handled by Kagami Yuri’s manager, so I had nothing left to do.

On the way to the station, Uzaki-san spoke up.

“Hey, Sensei.”

“Yeah?”

“Please keep treating Sakucchi exactly the same as always.”

“Eh…?”

She bowed deeply, clapping her hands together in front of her.

“It’s seriously amazing that someone as celebrity-kid-traumatized and adult-hating as Sakucchi has gotten so attached to you. So… please!”

I finally understood.

“…Got it.”

She must have seen a lot growing up as the daughter of Kagami Yuri.

“She’s still my student, superstar mom or not.”

“Ehehe, right? But just one piece of advice from me—”

She smiled happily when I praised their friendship.

“Don’t ever say those words to Sakucchi.”

“?”

I didn’t really understand what she meant back then.

(Still… I’m honestly floored…)

Ayase-san’s mom is Kagami Yuri…

“Kagami” is her old stage name; her current legal name isn’t public, obviously. Nothing in the school files either—I only just learned it by searching online.

Her first husband died young, so the single-mom story checks out. Super busy actress = rarely home, also checks out.

Bringing random guys home… well.

(But she didn’t seem like a bad mother at all…)

The way Ayase-san teared up eating that cake made me think.

Maybe she’s projecting a little—looking for a parent figure in me, an older guy.

Not a teacher, but a parent.

She probably wants to be spoiled by her actual mom, but a mega-star mom isn’t exactly easy to cuddle up to.

“Don’t ever say those words to Sakucchi.”

That’s what Uzaki-san was warning me about on the way home.

Teacher vs. parent substitute…

(Could I even be that for her…?)

Anyway, I just want to sleep…

My phone buzzed.

Message from Master Hakamada—coordinating the next drinking session with Yana (Aoyagi).

I really wanted to show up with a girlfriend by then, but prospects are bleak.

(First things first—redo the date with Miyu-san…)

Will she even agree?

My brain was refusing to think anymore. Total mental shutdown.

With the last of my energy I sent Miyu a short update and apology, adding that I wanted to make it up to her somehow.

I collapsed onto the bed before I could see if she replied, eyes closing instantly, and fell straight into deep sleep.