"Seiya is definitely not the type of person who would casually abandon an agreement. Even if there was some unavoidable reason he couldn't make it, he would absolutely tell you."
She paused, her eyes narrowing.
"Unless..."
"Unless something bad happened to him."
Hojo Shione frowned, studying the girl in front of her with sharp, analytical eyes. "Are you absolutely sure Seiya didn't send you a message?"
"..."
Hearing this, Hasegawa Saori's eyes flickered—a brief, almost imperceptible waver. She slowly put down her teacup, then nervously began patting her clothing pockets, her movements growing more frantic by the second.
"Saori... Saori's phone is lost..."
"Oh? Is that so?"
Hojo Shione looked at her with barely concealed suspicion. She didn't bother asking when it was lost—because the answer would be whatever the other party made up on the spot, making it impossible to verify the truth.
Although this fool seemed quite simple-minded—almost childlike in her directness—Hojo Shione's intuition told her that Hasegawa Saori wasn't nearly as simple as she appeared. A girl who could get Shiratori Seiya to promise to marry her in three years was anything but stupid.
Just thinking about that promise made Hojo Shione's blood boil with inexplicable irritation. A hot, acidic jealousy burned in her chest, spreading through her veins like poison.
She took a deep breath—calm down, focus—and shifted her attention. After a moment of thought, she asked again:
"I remember Seiya mentioned that Takahashi Mio also lives somewhere around here. Have you checked her place?"
Hasegawa Saori silently swallowed another cup of tea, her eyes fixed on the empty cup as if it held all the answers.
"If you don't speak, I'll take that as a yes."
Hojo Shione said, a strange sense of relief washing over her.
If something had really happened to Seiya—if he was hurt, in danger, or worse—that would be more painful than killing herself.
If he died... she should jump off the building right now.
At least she could die on the same day as him. Maybe, if she was lucky, she'd even catch up and be reborn with him. In the next life, she wanted to be by his side—forever and ever, across every lifetime.
But looking at the girl's ostrich-like behavior—hiding her head in the sand, refusing to confront the reality—Hojo Shione found it almost amusing. She asked directly:
"So, you knew Seiya went to be with Mio, and that's why you came to his house?"
"You're not trying to catch them in the act, are you?"
Seeing that she didn't answer, Hojo Shione probed further:
"Or... do you plan to just wait here until he comes back?"
This time, Hasegawa Saori finally looked up. Her eyes were calm—disturbingly calm, like a still lake hiding depths no one could see. She looked at Hojo and asked simply:
"Aren't you too?"
"Me too?"
Hearing her question, Hojo Shione shook her head and laughed—a dry, hollow sound. "No. I'm actually happy right now."
Although she had now figured out that Shiratori Seiya was with Takahashi Mio—and yes, there was some resentment burning in her heart, a hot coal of jealousy—she had already prepared herself for him to be with Hasegawa Saori today.
Now it was just a different person. It barely mattered.
Moreover, seeing someone else feel as miserable as she did made her feel much better.
Especially just now in the kitchen, when Hasegawa had pressed that sword against her throat—Hojo could feel the fury radiating off her. That rage, barely suppressed, told her everything she needed to know.
It was just that Saori had a poker face—that infuriating, unreadable stillness—that made it hard to tell exactly how deep the wound went.
Hearing Hojo Shione laugh so much that her shoulders were shaking, Hasegawa Saori tilted her head—that familiar, bird-like gesture—confusion flickering in her clear black-and-white eyes.
"You're so strange. Saori doesn't understand."
As her words fell, she turned her head to look toward the kitchen. It seemed she had finally reached her limit of endurance. She swallowed—an audible gulp—then stood up and walked straight over.
"?"
Watching the idiot suddenly get up, Hojo Shione was startled. She instinctively frowned and asked:
"What are you doing?"
"Saori is hungry."
"?"
Hojo Shione's eyelid twitched, and a bad premonition immediately rose in her heart like a warning siren.
Ten minutes later, Hojo Shione stared at the girl sitting at the table—one hand holding a flatbread, the other clutching a drumstick, hunched over a bowl as she noisily slurped chicken soup. She couldn't help but clench her fists so hard her knuckles went white.
Hasegawa Saori swallowed the drumstick whole—barely chewing—and the bones she spat out were so clean they practically reflected the light like polished ivory.
Hojo Shione watched her ravenous, gluttonous eating, like a starving ghost reincarnated into human form. She bit her lip, finally unable to hold back:
"How can you eat so much? How much more are you going to devour?"
Hasegawa Saori slowly lifted her face. Her mouth was currently stuffed with chicken, her cheeks bulging like a chipmunk storing nuts. Hearing Hojo's words, her chewing speed slowed slightly.
Gulp.
She swallowed the food in her mouth in one massive gulp, blinked her clear, innocent eyes, and asked:
"Aren't you eating? If you don't, it'll spoil overnight. What a waste of food..."
How can this person have no sense of boundaries at all?!
You've finished eating and drinking—what will Seiya eat tomorrow?
Hojo Shione suppressed the irritation boiling in her chest like lava about to erupt. She took a deep breath, forced a sweet, fake smile onto her face, and said:
"I'm on a diet recently. Eating too much at night makes you gain weight. You'd better eat a little less—if you get fat, Seiya won't like you anymore."
Hearing this, Hasegawa Saori first looked down at her own chest—a quick, self-conscious glance—then at Hojo Shione's, and shook her head with absolute certainty.
"Saori isn't as fat as you, so she doesn't need to diet."
Without missing a beat, she broke off another chicken wing and stuffed it into her mouth with mechanical efficiency.
Hojo Shione trembled with fury, her entire body shaking like a leaf in a storm. She couldn't help but curse:
"Flat-chested is flat-chested! What's this about 'fat' or 'not fat'? Are you out of your mind?! You don't actually think I made this dinner at this late hour for you, do you?!"
This curse finally seemed to have an effect. Hasegawa Saori stopped swallowing, lifted her face, and stared blankly at her with those wide, unblinking eyes.
After a long moment, as if slowly processing the information, she tilted her head and asked:
"So... this was for Seiya?"
Before Hojo Shione could respond, Hasegawa Saori quickly finished the chicken soup in her bowl in a few frantic gulps—slurp, slurp, slurp—then hurried into the kitchen. She rummaged through the bottom cabinet, found the largest basin Hojo owned, and poured all the remaining soup and meat from the pot into it.
Watching her emerge from the kitchen holding the basin like a trophy, Hojo Shione's mouth fell open. Her pupils trembled with disbelief.
By the time she reacted, Hasegawa Saori had already buried almost her entire face in the basin.
"YOU!"
"BASTARD!"
More than ten minutes later, Hojo Shione stared at Hasegawa Saori with a face full of pure, unadulterated resentment. Her chest was heaving rapidly, her breathing ragged with barely contained rage.
If looks could kill, Hasegawa Saori would have died a thousand agonizing deaths by now. And if Hojo didn't know she couldn't beat her in a physical fight—that sword-wielding maniac—she would already be straddling her and shaking her like a rag doll.
This bastard... how can she eat more than a pig?!
Burp~
Meeting Hojo Shione's murderous gaze, Hasegawa Saori rubbed her stomach contentedly, let out a satisfied burp, and asked:
"Your cooking is good. Can you teach Saori?"
"BASTARD! DISGUSTING!"
"?"
Hearing her curse, Hasegawa Saori blinked—those infuriatingly innocent eyes—and asked:
"Someone eating what you made... you should feel happy, shouldn't you?"
She paused, then added matter-of-factly:
"Every time Seiya cooks for Saori, he says he's very happy to see me eat it all."
That was the last straw.
Those words hit Hojo Shione like a critical blow—a direct hit to her most vulnerable spot. She could no longer hold back. She stood up, teeth grinding, and lunged at the other woman:
"BASTARD!"
Clatter!
The two of them rolled off their chairs and crashed onto the floor in a tangle of limbs and fury—Hojo Shione clawing, Hasegawa Saori blocking, both of them too proud to yield.
But just as Hojo Shione managed to get on top of Saori—her hands reaching for the other woman's neck—before Saori could grab her in return, the phone Hojo had placed on the table suddenly started ringing.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
As if receiving some signal simultaneously, both of them froze and looked at the phone at the exact same moment.