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Shōji

しょうじ

These are transparent wood and paper screens that divide the different areas in a Japanese home

Tatami

畳

This is a rush-covered straw mat forming a traditional Japanese floor covering.

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Kaito's plan was the epitome of dumb; casually standing a little away from the maid Cafe, waiting for Chiho's shift to end at 8 pm as it usually did. When that happened, Kaito drew another stick figure illustrating Chiho obliviously bouncing on her heels past Yuuto, who would later follow her at a safe distance until they got to her house. That was when Yuuto would sneak into her house and snatch the letter whenever he could.

"And, success!" Kaito called, scratching the Japanese letters next to the drawing of Yuuto's stoic stick figure flying in the house and emerging shortly after, a ginormous grin on the stickman's face as it successfully excavated Hinata's love letter. Yuuto could have pointed out the myriad reasons why that's a terrible, illegal plan, but one look at Kaito's excited face made Yuuto know that, as ludicrous as the plan was, he had to follow through, for his friend's happiness.

And that's exactly what had Yuuto standing by the convenience store next to Cure Maid Café, his regular uniform of não cotton vest and pleated pants exchanged for something more casual, regular jeans and a black T-shirt with the English words 'Courage' written across the front and back, the look adorned with Kaito's finishing touch, a trendy pair of sunglasses and a black hat. Wearing both, not one, of those two things hid Yuuto's face to a T, and thankfully, he didn't look suspicious at all. The weird looks he received from people were probably just those sympathetic that he had allergies or contacted the flu.

Drowning everything out, Yuuto pulled his phone out, feeling less of an idiot as he played a few rounds of Candy Crush.

The door to Cure Maid Café opened with a jingle, a familiar girl stepping out into the chilly night. She wasn't in her maid outfit anymore but rather clad in an orange hoodie that seemed larger than her frame and light blue jeans pants, and the hair she once had in pigtails was now down, her luscious black locks cascading to her broad shoulders. She had a light blue gym bag tucked under her arm, which looked native to Higurashi High, but Yuuto brushed that speculation away. Anyone could carry a gym bag, and more importantly, the love letter was in that bag, without a doubt.

"Walk safely, Chiho! And don't forget to eat something yummy at home."

"I will, thanks!" Soejima called back, a cloud of mist forming around her face as she turned away from the light. She visibly trembled as a helping of wind glided through her clothes and ruffled her hair, to which she grasped her clothes tighter and shook off the momentary chill. The doors to the cafe automatically slid back shut as Soejima walked off, in Yuuto's direction.

The girl stopped at the sight of an elongated figure standing nearby.

"Hm?"

Yuuto narrowly avoided her curious gaze, tipping his hat down some more whilst he ducked into the next-door convenience store. He dove into a random aisle, his heart erratically pounding in his chest for some reason, perhaps for his own stupidity; zoning out right then and there, almost looking like a creep or sketchy stalker.

Unfortunately, the workers in the convenience store thought just that of him, so he pulled down his mask to save himself an unwanted ride to the police station. Through the transparent windows of the store, he saw Soejima walk past, as without wasting a second, Yuuto grabbed something random from the shelf — it happened to be a milk pudding, not bad — before proceeding to checkout and later stepping out into the night.

Yuuto wasn't paid enough for all that drama.

Outside, scores of people walked past Yuuto on their business, but looking around at all the bobbing heads, none of them looked like Soejima's. He glanced left, then right, his heart lurching at the thought of losing her when he was already over the mission. Determined that he wouldn't, he yanked his mask back onto his face and hurried down the street, weaving around bystanders and pedestrians as he avoided knocking anyone over in his haste. The crowd gradually thinned out, just enough for Yuuto to regain sight of Soejima just up above, her orange hoodie sticking out like a beacon of hope to Yuuto in the night.

After walking for about five minutes whilst following Soejima and answering Kaito's intrusive text messages and calls every few seconds, the bustling crowd from Otsu and the lights from all the stores thinned out and vanished, falling in the background as they took consecutive turns that led them into a neighbourhood just outside Otsu. Houses stood stacked to either side of the narrowed concrete streets, slender branches from zelkova trees hanging out from various yards and dangling over the side of the road, the young flowers and foliage poised on each branch marking a signal that spring was coming. Old lamp posts and Japanese street lamps were generously poised along the sides of the road and stuck to gates nearby, the combined flush of blue and orange light emanating from each, chasing away the darkness at any given chance. The sound of barking dogs and roaring wind sounded in the background, adding to the ambience of the otherwise calm neighbourhood.

In such a well-lit neighbourhood, it wasn't easy to slip into the shadows whenever Soejima stopped or happened to look back, but Yuuto was smooth anyway, diving to the side of the road and pretending to look at some random ornaments at the side of the road. Soejima never once raised an alarm or seemed suspicious, and so Yuuto's mission continued, leading them both — or just Yuuto — to a home he assumed to be Soejima's. Clueless that she was being followed, the girl easily unlocked the iron gates and pushed it open, stepping inside and locking it, forcing Yuuto to think of other alternatives.

"I'm home," Chiho announced once she'd slid the shoji door to the side.

Slipping off her outdoor shoes and replacing them for a cosy pair of socks in the genkan, the familiar stench of sake and beer wafted by Chiho's face; it hovered in the air like a thick fog, making her turn her nose up in disgust, reluctantly following the smell that led one place; the living room. Flipping the light switch, a deluge of warm white light poured in the room and fell over the form of another, who lay sprawled out on the floor next to the chabudai table, loud snores sounding from her mouth and a puddle of drool leaking from her mouth, soiling the tatami mat. A collection of overturned beer cans and glasses of sake cluttered the space on the table, and looking at her sister, marking the telltale blush on her face and her discarded handbag, Chiho instantly knew what her sister got up to.

Chiho sighed.

Calmly lifting one foot, she swung it forward, burying the doe of her slippers in Ryoko's back, sending the woman sprawling across the living from, falling on the other side with a loud thud. Ryoko sat up a second after, groaning tiredly as she rubbed the side of her head.

"Ow, ow. What was that for?" she whined, rolling over on her side as her head throbbed. Her groggy, unfocused eyes fell on Chiho, who glared down at her with an unimpressed look on her face. "Gosh, take it easy, party pooper. I just got home ... cut me some slack, I'm tired."

"What about dinner? You at least made that, didn't you?" Chiho questioned as she stepped over her sister and entered her room, tossing her gym bag into bed and throwing the window open for some cool air. When she didn't receive a response, she re-entered the living room, her annoyance escalating to abnormal levels when she realized that Ryoko had curled up into a ball on the floor, fast asleep. "Onee-chan."

Walking over to her slumbering form, Chiho stopped behind her and lifted a foot again, highly tempted to kick her sister once more but resisting the urge on second though. Her foot fell back to the floor, her growling stomach making her shoulders fall.

"Seriously, you're so useless."

After another melodramatic moment of coping with a growling stomach and contemplating the tempting idea of tossing Ryoko outside to sleep on the mat, Chiho sighed again, hauling her irresponsible sister off the ground on second thought. Working a part-time job whilst going to school, it wasn't easy for Chiho to catch up on studies or her hobbies, but then there was Ryoko, who worked hectic shifts at a corporate office in the city, all for the sake of affording rent and food. Needless to say, they were both tired whenever they came home, but it certainly didn't help that Ryoko preferred to go out drinking with her colleagues instead of heading home and cooking as a normal person would.

"Oh, you're home early, aren't you? Let's watch TV, whooo!" Ryoko murmured. Sliding the room door to the side, Chiho struggled to get inside whilst supporting Ryoko's dead weight, but years of experience made her know that it was the only way to get a peaceful night's rest. Ryoko fell face-first on the bed, rolling over to peer up at Chiho. "Aw, it isn't even bedtime yet! Don't be a party pooper ... let's..."

And just like that, she passed out again, for good this time.

"Gosh, you really are useless," Chiho commented when she noticed that Ryoko was still wearing her heels from work. A growling stomach forced her out of the room and into the genkan, where Chiho first tossed Ryoko's shoes inside the shoe cupboard before proceeding to the kitchen.

The cupboard opened with a creak as Chiho swung it open, peering inside to see stacks and stacks of cup ramen sitting inside. It wasn't the best, but Chiho took one down anyway because she had no other choice; cooking wasn't an option for a myriad of reasons, and then there was school to consider. It was almost past 9 o'clock, perilously close to Chiho's bedtime.

...

Outside, a groaning Yuuto pressed himself against the wall, holding his shoulder as he glared up at the wall. Climbing over the wall was supposed to be a piece of cake, and it was, but not without repercussions. A dull ache throbbed in Yuuto's shoulder here he surely pulled a muscle from the strenuous task of brazenly hoisting himself up and climbing over the wall without any warm-ups. With an aching shoulder and leg half-swung over the high wall, Yuuto lost his balance and fell over in Soejima's yard, almost narrowly escaping the occurrence of falling face-first in the garden as he smartly pivoted last minute, shouldering the fall with his already battered shoulder.

"D-dammit," he cursed to himself, struggling to sit up whilst his arms and shoulders ached. He sat up and slowly climbed out of the garden, brushing off morsels of dirt off his top when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Yuuto reached into his pocket and flipped out his device, sliding his finger over the smooth, uncracked screen and opening it to find a sequence of messages from none other than Kaito.

8:52 pm

Kai: hello

Kai: did you see Soejima?

Kai: answer me

8:59 pm

Kai: status...

9:00pm

Yuu: I almost broke my arm, but thanks for asking

Kai: what? that's not the code word. It's: the egg has hatched. So did it or not?

Yuu: I'm going in now. Don't call or text again

And with that, Yuuto powered off his device to avoid the barrage of text that would accompany his confirmation that the plan was going well. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and glanced around the yard, marking which hiding spaces would work and which wouldn't. As he hobbled from dark patches to the next like a clumsy, noobish ninja, he kept his eyes trained on the house, carefully observing which lights in the house turned on or off. Currently, the living room lights were on, notifying Yuuto that Soejima hadn't gone to bed yet, but as he glanced around the house for other clues, he realized that entering would be impossible without breaking something. Sure, he could pick the lock if he knew how to.

Yuuto was just a regular boy, living a regular life. He swore he had no intention of getting involved in anyone's business yet there was anyway, sketchily sneaking around a girl's yard like a perverted high schoolboy.

Then, at the worst possible time, the light to the window closest to Yuuto turned on, almost starling him out of his skin even more so when the windows swung open right after. Yuuto narrowly dodged the window panes and being spotted last minute as he dove under, roughly landing on the cobbled path below the window.

Yuuto stopped breathing for a moment, his heart slamming against his ribcage as he remained impossibly quiet. He focused on listening, and that had him knowing that whoever opened the window wasn't there anymore, or anywhere nearby for that matter. The light switched off too, and that and the sound of retreating footsteps on the wooden floors as a clear sign, Yuuto pushed himself off the ground and hovered by the side of the window as he peered inside the room.

It was a standard Japanese room, containing a small bed, neatly made with blue sheets, stacked to the side of the room whilst on the other side was a computer desk and straight-backed chair in the corner at the other side, complete with a closet that somehow fit into the already cramped space. Contrary to the fluff and pinkness that Yuuto pictured for Soejima's room, there was none. There were

no drapery curtains windows, no pictures on the walls, and surprisingly too was the revelation that the walls were painted a regular bone white instead of a pink stretch littered with girly stickers and posters of BTS members.

Normally, Yuuto would have looked around some more, questioning things (like Soejima's use of blue sheets) but now wasn't the time. His eyes fell on his target, the gym bag lying on the bed. Yuuto had to swallow his pride, manners, and all he stood for as he mustered up the courage to open Soejima's bag and ravage inside, careful not to stumble upon any feminine products. Thankfully, the letter was right on top of everything and Yuuto snatched it out, shoving it inside his pocket and bolting for the window when something caught his attention.

At the top of Soejima's desk was a clutter of something Yuuto didn't expect; mangas, most of which he'd seen before, some he had more intimate ties to than one would think. Piles, piles, and piles of shojō mangas, from brand new volumes of ongoing ones to old, classic ones like My Little Monster, the collection seemed endless pool of bright colours, colorful art, and cheesy romance. Yuuto approached the desk as his curiosity got the better of him, running his fingertip over the words boldly inked on the cover of the manga, Ryuuku's Dream.

Otaku? Soejima?

Well, she was a maid, but it just didn't seem to fit.

Yuuto ignored the warning bells going off in his head as he caught sight of something else, which he wasted no time in looking at. Of course it was yet another manga, but this one was hand-drawn, buried under a series of inking pens, markers, and nib pens. Resisting the urge to scoff at the ludicrousness of Soejima's unexpected obsession, Yuuto picked up the unfamiliar manga and flipped to the first page.

On a sheet of canvas paper that was once pure and untouched now lay bare in Yuuto's hand, ink splattered across the page, inking what was supposed to be sketches — or a final inked product, who knew? — for a manga. The lines, however, were nearly traced, the black ink evenly distributed across each drawing, acceptable pressure applies where lines intersected or curved, shading pencils used to achieve the effect of depth where the artist failed to make up for the art itself, which was...everywhere. Where Soejima didn't brazenly trace another artist's drawing, there were drawings of her own, with multiple breaching the rules of drawing manga, from inconsistent, atrocious-looking character designs to visibly disproportionate poses and figures that made Yuuto cringe. Scrawny handwriting layered the outskirts of the drawings with speech bubbles, and even that was garbage.

"Garbage," Yuuto mumbled to himself, thinking of how everything went from zero to one hundred in mere seconds. From creepily watching Soejima every day with Kaito and now ending up in her house, finding out about her obsession, Yuuto was admittedly turned off by her obsession with romance. So apparently, she was the kind of girl that fawned over bad-boys or non-existent bad boys and prince charming, wasn't she? Yuuto mentally conjured an image in his head of Soejima opening the love letter, starry-eyed as she read something that was supposed to be meant for her, from the knight in shining armor she always imagined and waited for.

"R-really, is this for me?" She'd say in her sugary, high-pitched voice, hearts for eyes as she gazed at Kaito, who would stand in front of her, one hand in his pocket and the other behind his head in a pose Soejima marked to be a 'cool guy' pose in her manga. As one would expect, the real Kaito would fail that miserable, reduced to an equally awkward and haywire mess like the flustered girl before him, but this was a fantasy Kaito, cool and composed.

"It is," Kaito would truthfully confess before grabbing Soejima by her hands and pulling her impossibly close. Star and flowery effects blossoming around them, their hair would also start bobbing and dancing in the wind, the mood perfect, the romantic background music just right. When the music reached a crescendo, then, and only then, would Kaito say, "Soejima, I love you."

To which the blushing girl would respond, "No, I love you, Fujita."

"Impossible," Kaito denied, cupping Soejima's face and tucking some of her hair back. "I love you more."

Yuuto fanned the cloud away, as incredulous as he was amused.

Love, romance.

Yuuto didn't understand it, but who was he to step in the middle of a budding romance? Whilst Kaito and Soejima's cloud floated to the other side of the room, Yuuto's head cleared, grounding him once more, in his ideals. Even if Kaito and Soejima did somehow get a happy ending out of all that, who was Yuuto to stop that? What he would do, however, is get Rei's letter away and replace it with Kaito's.

Before he could, and just when he would, the light to the room flicked on, momentarily stunning Yuuto. He dropped the lousy manga and stumbled away from the desk as he fought to adjust to the light and the fact that he'd been caught. He was fully aware that he had a lot of explaining to do (and a potential cruise to the police station), but as he spun to face his companion, a swinging frying pan was the only thing that greeted Yuuto.

His thought process jammed and his body froze, but somehow his reflexes kicked in last minute, making him jerk his head back, just in time to dodge the blow. The force from the pot grazed Yuuto's face, the wind almost knocking him off his feet.

"Oi!"

The pot swung around and the assailant jumped back. "Who are you, and why are you in my room?!"

That voice.

Where did Yuuto hear it before?

He cautiously stepped back and held his hands before his face, protecting his head from his aggressive attacker. "Hey, just take it easy. I can explain," Yuuto somehow managed to keep his cool as he spoke, only the ability to open his eyes as he fully recovered from the shock of the moment. Yuuto expected to see Soejima standing before him but as he looked at his attacker that was far from the case. His eyes fell on nerdy-looking brown-haired boy standing in front of him, someone Yuuto was sure he'd seen before.

The boy was no more than a year or two younger than Yuuto, possessing dark hair that furled down the nape of his neck while his spiky fringe covered the right side of his face, going a little past his jaw-line. Accentuated with dark bags that enhanced his enhancing stance, his eyes were widened, and alert like that of a child, situated between the thick square frames poised above his nose. He was fairly small and petite in size but held his own pretty well, not backing down even as the frying pan trembled in his vice hold.

Yuuto didn't want trouble. He yanked off his mask and hat, lifting his hands by the sides of his head in surrender. "It's not what it looks like," the calmly, politely tried to explain himself. "I'm just here to see Soejima."

"Soejima?" the boy lowly echoed as he lowered his guard, the frying pan looking way less intimidating for a second. Yuuto almost relaxed too, but as soon as he began lowering his hands too the boy slipped back in his offensive position, lifting the frying pan back by his face. "Well, breaking into someone's house is no way to do it!"

"Have I seen you before?" Yuuto asked, not only because he wanted to change the topic and escape with his head attached to his body, but also because it was something that bugged him ever since he laid eyes on the boy that night, and at that moment recognition swirled in the latter's eyes too, making him lower his weapon for good that time.

"Masuyama-senpai?"

Yuuto slowly lowered his hands again, relief flooding through him at the sound of the boy using his name plus the 'senpai' honorific, which meant one thing: he was a kid from school, most likely in a lower grade. Class one or two, maybe? He didn't look older than twelve, but the evidence said otherwise.

Anyway, jackpot.

"Yeah, that's me. You obviously know me, so let's not...do this," he said as he gestured to the frying pat, which the owner lowered fully but didn't discard. "As I said, I don't want trouble. There was a mixup today and now I need to see Soejima. Where is she?" he quirked an eyebrow as he began to get suspicious, looking around the room.

"S-she's my sister," the dorky kid blurted. "But she's gone to bed already and doesn't want anyone to bother her, so if you don't mind, I'll have to ask you to leave."

Taking one last look at the boy, eyeing the dark bags under his eyes and his thin, weary frame (as well as Yuuto's compromising position), Yuuto decided against asking any more questions for two reasons: one, he'd get out scot-free — it could have been worse, like a swollen jaw or spending the night in the police station — and two, the boy looked tired enough as it it. Yuuto was sure he didn't want unnecessary drama in his life either.

Two minutes later Yuuto walked ahead first, the small boy following behind with his frying pan a sword as he nudged it against Yuuto's back, like a pirate forcing some unlucky fellow to walk the plank. The lights were off so Yuuto probably could have chanced leaving Kaito's letter somewhere random, but being watched so closely, having his head unprotected, it wasn't so much of a good idea.

Before Yuuto knew it, they were in the genkan. He dropped his sneakers by his feet and crunched, yanking them on his feet before he stood once more, turning to the boy and lowering his head in the lowest, most polite bow. "I'm sincerely sorry for this." he apologized, holding the position for a second before he rose. The boy's annoyed facial expression remained plastered on his face, seeming unfazed by the apology.

"It's okay, just go."

The gate outside swung close behind Yuuto as soon as he stepped outside the gates, leaving him alone with the chilliness of the night and his own thoughts, feelings, and the barrage of questions that rose in his head like a nightclub.

Soejima had a brother?

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Third chapter complete!

Yuuto is a terrible spy, yes.

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