Every single day after that birthday performance seemed to fly by.
In the office, Yoshiiro Chiose stretched luxuriously, her perfect figure on full display right in front of Takamatsu Tomori.
Nothing to do today — Tomori had handled all the work on her own.
Tomo is so capable. She's completely wasted here.
"I heard that across the sea, overtime is unpaid and completely expected — doesn't that sound fun? If Tomori had been born there, she'd definitely be the most useful, most beloved model employee."
Ninety-nine percent chance she'd never push back. She'd swallow every grievance whole. Four years without taking a single day off… isn't that just a born workhorse?
"Hmm? What?"
"Oh, nothing! I was just thinking — maybe we should grab a drink after work!"
"Again? ...Fine, I'm a little…"
Tomori realized she had truly changed. Drinking had become one of her regular routines — something she could hardly imagine cutting out anymore.
She sneaked a glance at Chiose stretching, then carefully looked away.
Apparently there's a kind of sake called kuchikami-zake — brewed from rice that a beautiful girl has chewed and spat out.
If Chiose made a cup of kuchikami-zake… it would absolutely be filled to the brim with the flavor Tomori loved most!
Ahem. That's a little depraved.
"Tomori, are you thinking about something perverted right now."
Chiose suddenly leaned in close, and Tomori nearly toppled right off her chair.
"I…"
"Are you wondering if I can read minds again?"
"!!!"
"You're all such dummies — every dummy thinks the exact same thing and makes the exact same complaint. The pattern's so predictable I can't even be bothered to guess anymore."
"Chiose!"
"Okay, okay, I'll stop teasing. Let's go to Ring II after work tonight — it's quiet there, and I have something really important to tell you."
"Something important? Like what?"
"Can't say just yet. You'll know when we get there."
Chiose smiled mysteriously and turned to leave the office.
"What's that supposed to mean…"
Tomori rested her chin in her hand, staring at the wooden office door as it clicked shut.
"Chiose is always so secretive — like the time she threw me that surprise birthday party without telling me a thing…"
What surprise is she planning this time?
Just imagining the endless possibilities made the little black-stocking-clad feet inside Tomori's heels curl up with anxious excitement.
——
Ring II. A private booth for two.
"Tomori, look what I've got!"
Yoshiiro Chiose took a bold swig of her Valentín, then pulled a contract out of her bag.
"A contract? It says… a band?!"
"Exactly! We've been performing a lot lately, right? An American record label reached out — they want to invite us to form a band. The person in charge gave me this contract yesterday and asked us to think it over."
"???"
Wait, what? How did it even get to this?
Every Friday since their first duet performance, the two of them had been going to STARY or RING to play. Every single time was an absolute blast — so much so that more than once they'd drunk themselves into a haze and ended up retching off the stage at the crowd below.
And someone actually wants this unreliable duo that has only performed three or four times and keeps making a mess of things every other show?
Watching Tomori stare blankly, Chiose knew exactly what she was thinking.
This contract… is obviously not legitimate. After all, she'd had the System forge it.
Ever since learning that the System could materialize into a physical entity in both simulations and reality, Chiose had been turning the question over in her head: what else could this thing actually do?
Now she had her answer.
As long as she communicated with the System using lines like [Everything is in service of maximizing the Lifelong Regret Index], [You wouldn't want your performance metrics as a System to fall short, would you], and [If you don't help me, you won't get a thing when I die] — she could get a surprising amount of assistance.
Like in-simulation currency. Like this contract. And like…
"Here is the drink you ordered, ma'am."
Yoshiiro Chiose was nearly in stitches watching the waitress — veins visibly throbbing at her temple — somehow maintain a perfectly polite smile.
This was her beloved System. A multifunctional simulation assistant capable of supporting her in any situation!
"Thank you for your service."
"..."
The System — wearing a thunderous expression — walked away, while Takamatsu Tomori still hadn't recovered from the shock of the contract.
"So… we would…?"
"We could go to America and become huge stars! How about it, Tomori — isn't that insanely cool?"
"This… this is so…"
Over the top! This is completely out of touch with reality.
This decision would inevitably shape her entire life. Setting aside what her parents might think, her day-to-day existence would be turned completely upside down.
"Hehe, Tomori is excited too, isn't she? Isn't she?"
Chiose leaned closer — practically pressing her face against Tomori's — and Tomori, suddenly overcome, felt herself on the verge of just saying yes.
"No, no, Tomori — I don't want an answer I pressured out of you. I want your own answer."
"We've only known each other for just over a month, but I genuinely believe Tomori is going to be a success. You're someone who can save others — and that means you can't be the kind of person who swallows her feelings and says yes just because someone pushed you."
Chiose shook her head and tucked the contract into Tomori's arms.
"Go home and think it over carefully. After all, I haven't given them a straight answer either — I told them I needed to come back and consider it."
"I… I'll think about it properly!"
Leave her hometown. Cross the ocean with her best friend. Go make something of themselves in a foreign country.
It would mean giving up her job and everything she had built here — and starting from absolute zero.
But starting over is not a simple thing.
She was twenty-six. She understood this was a massive opportunity — and at the same time, it could send both her and Chiose plunging into an abyss.
"Is my voice… truly capable of carrying that kind of responsibility? And going to America…"
Can my very-much-Japanese English actually pass muster?
And then there were all the practical concerns of daily life overseas… There was so much to weigh. Takamatsu Tomori was not a reckless sixteen-year-old girl, nor was she a twenty-two-year-old like Chiose, fresh out of the gate and new to the world.
Society had been grinding her down for a full four years. If she were ten years younger, she would have said yes to Chiose's invitation without a second thought.
"Think it over when you get home, okay? My sweet little Tomori."
Yoshiiro Chiose pressed her cheek against Tomori's, rubbing against her affectionately and desperately — as if she were savoring the very last of their time to be close like this.
"We still have plenty of time. Think as slowly as you need. No rush."
[Take your time. Though I already know what decision you're going to make.]
Chiose's eyes were an unusually deep, vivid crimson tonight.
[As expected — I know you best of all. My dear sister. My precious Tomori.]
Just how profound can the resolve of an ordinary twenty-six-year-old adult truly be? Let me see.
____
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