It was already June, and the days were getting longer.
At seven in the evening, the sky hadn't fully given way to the dark blue of night yet.
Far off at the horizon, a patch of orange about the size of a leaf still stubbornly colored the surrounding clouds with streaks of gold.
In the fading light, a streetlamp on a utility pole flickered a few times before settling into a steady white glow.
In the dim area just past the reach of the two nearby streetlamps, a girl with waist length pink hair was crouched by the roadside, playing with a tiny stray kitten.
Catching sight of the girl's back, Sasaki, just out of the hospital, quietly walked up behind her.
Even though he had no idea why Otome was hanging out outside at this hour, planning to give her a little scare and then ask was part of the fun.
He crept closer.
Then threw his arms open and pulled the crouching girl into a tight hug.
The exact millisecond he pulled her into his embrace, however, sheer astonishment made his eyes pop wide open.
She... wasn't Otome!
He knew every single inch of Otome's physique under her clothes better than Otome herself did.
So he could instantly tell that the girl in his arms was significantly more slender and delicate than her.
He never imagined he'd mistake someone for his own girlfriend right outside his house. Coming back to his senses, he let go fast, stepped back, and started to apologize. "Sorr—"
Before he could even finish the first word, a dainty fist, clenched tightly and crackling with a furious mix of shock and outraged humiliation, cut off the rest of his apology.
"Drop dead, you pervert!"
The girl's punch came hurtling forward with terrifying speed, forcing Sasaki to swallow his apology and throw his upper body backward to dodge.
But the girl clearly had some kind of self defense training.
When her first strike missed, she smoothly shifted her stance, planted her left foot, and whipped her long right leg out like a steel cable.
Not expecting the girl with a back so similar to Otome's to hit this hard, Sasaki leaned back to avoid the punch, then had to jump away from the kick that followed.
She was clearly skilled, but landing a hit on him without a weapon was basically impossible.
Missing her first two strikes only made the girl angrier.
Under her bangs, her eyes burned with the sharp, cornered look of a wolf.
Her kick sliced through empty air, and the momentum spun her whole body around.
As her pink hair fanned out like silk, she planted her foot back down, lifted her other leg high, and sent a fast spinning kick straight at the young man who had dared to cop a feel.
Because of the sheer velocity, the trail left by her slender white leg in midair almost formed a solid, pale crescent arc.
This one was faster than the others.
With barely any time to react and her clearly furious, Sasaki had no room to dodge, so he blocked it instead.
Not wanting to actually hurt her, right as her heel got close to his temple, he reached out and caught the sole of her shoe.
Slap.
The second his palm hit her shoe, her whole attack came to a dead stop.
No matter how hard she tried to pull her leg back, it felt like it had been bolted to a wall.
She had no choice to hold her high-kick pose, twist her upper body around, and glare sideways at the person bullying her.
Instead of the middle aged creep she had envisioned in her mind, the culprit who had taken advantage of her turned out to be roughly her own age.
His face was youthful and fresh-faced.
The streetlamp lit up his brown hair, giving the tips a faint golden glow. Under his neatly trimmed bangs, his eyebrows sat in a natural arch, not even flinching from taking her heel straight into his palm.
The only thing unusual was the look in his eyes when he gazed at her... was that a hint of utter bewilderment?
Doesn't look like a total creeper, though?
Isumi Shokuhou thought to herself.
Not wanting to force the girl to maintain such an uncomfortable, strained posture for long,
Sasaki gently eased off the pressure, lowered his hand to release her shoe, and bowed slightly in apology.
"My bad~"
Once he was sure she wasn't about to attack again, he let out a breath and explained. "I didn't mean to do that.
It's just, your hair and the way you're built looked so much like my little sister. I was trying to scare her, I really thought you were someone else."
Sasaki had originally intended to say she looked like his girlfriend... but calling a stranger that sounded way too much like an excuse from a creep, so he had swapped out the phrasing mid-sentence.
A younger sister counted as family, after all.
Besides, Otome was technically younger than him anyway, so calling her that wasn't technically a lie.
While she processed his explanation, Sasaki used the moment to take a proper look at the girl who resembled Otome so closely.
Her pink hair fell all the way to her waist, matching Otome's shade almost exactly.
Their eyes were the same too, a clear, deep blue like open sky or ocean water.
Up close though, the differences in their faces became clear.
This girl had a slightly more rounded jaw with a shorter, sharper chin, giving her face a subtle V shape.
Otome's face was softer, closer to an oval, though her chin was similarly narrow, putting her somewhere between the two styles.
Their hair and eyebrows were different too.
The stranger's hair had a smoother, sleeker fall, catching the streetlight with a silky shine.
Otome's hair wasn't bad either, but if she didn't brush it down, a few strands near her bangs or crown always had a mind of their own.
It didn't take away from her charm, but it was a clear difference between them.
Their expressions and small movements were different as well. Otome's eyes sloped gently downward at the corners, and her brows usually curved into a warm, easygoing look.
This girl's eyebrows looked sharper and colder, though that might've just been because Sasaki had ambushed and groped her a few seconds earlier.
Setting aside all these smaller details, the most obvious difference between them was their chest size.
Otome's assets were undeniably, indisputably massive, whereas this girl belonged firmly in the standard, average category.
And since Sasaki had just had his arms around her, he also had a pretty clear sense of how their body types differed.
Otome's frame was perfectly proportioned; aside from her impressive chest, every other part of her, from her slender waist to her shapely thighs, hit that absolute sweet spot where losing an ounce or gaining an ounce would ruin the perfection.
This girl, on the other hand, leaned more toward a slim, delicate build typical of petite, more fragile girls.
Well, turns out she wasn't fragile at all. She was probably the strongest fighter Sasaki had ever run into.
Still trying to convince her he wasn't lying, he pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of Otome.
"..."
The girl looked at the photo and couldn't help but nod.
Yeah...they really did look kind of alike.
Since her back had been turned and the lighting was so dim, mistaking her for someone else made sense.
But him grabbing her like that?
His hands had been way out of line.
Even if he hadn't fully made contact, brushing against something like that was still too much.
That was probably why she'd been so mad.
Holding his phone in front of her, Shikimori puffed her cheeks out, still wanting to blame him for it.
But his mistake made sense, and she'd already gotten a hit in, probably, so she figured she shouldn't hold it against him too much.
Except she was still annoyed.
It was the first time a guy had ever hugged her, and also the first time she'd ever...
The more she thought about it, the more irritated she got.
Her brows furrowed.
"Hmph!"
"..."
Knowing exactly why she was glaring at him, Sasaki rubbed the back of his neck. "It was my fault, seriously.
Name your conditions, whatever you want."
"I'll even let you hit me a few more times if it helps you feel better, just don't kick me in the face again. It's hard to explain that to my family when I get home."
Mistaking her for Otome... there was no way he could have kept his hands to himself after getting a handful like that...
"Name conditions..."
Shikimori didn't actually need anything from him, so what was she even supposed to ask for.
Seeing that his apology seemed genuine and that none of it had been on purpose, she puffed her cheeks out once more, thought it over, and decided to just let it go.
She'd been furious earlier and hadn't held back at all when she went after him.
Now that she thought about it, if she'd actually landed that last kick clean, things could've gotten really bad.
But that one touch still bothered her.
The annoyance in her eyes softened into something closer to worry, and she stepped toward him. "Hey, let me see your hand."
"Huh?"
The sudden request caught Sasaki off guard, especially since she seemed willing to drop the whole thing.
He recovered and waved his hand casually. "No, no, my hand's totally fine, you don't need to..."
Her eyes followed the motion as she frowned again, reached out with a flat expression, grabbed his wrist, and pulled his palm toward her.
"Whether it's fine or not isn't your call. Let me look."
"..."
Her personality really was nothing like Otome's.
Otome would never raise her voice at him like that, or glare at him, or act this pushy.
Still, with her head lowered, her bangs parted just enough to show off her clean, smooth forehead.
It was a soft, feminine face, but the slight furrow in her brows and the sharp, focused look in her eyes made her seem kind of cool, almost like she had that intense caring-CEO energy going on.
None of the girls in his life usually treated him with that kind of bossiness, let alone glared at him while doing it.
Running into someone this different felt strange, but kind of amusing too.
With that thought, Sasaki let her check his palm without resisting, leaning in slightly and watching her flushed little face up close.
"Phew... good thing it's fine, but... isn't this too fine? There's barely even a red mark. That's weird." Her fingers brushed lightly across his palm as she frowned.
She prided herself on having solid reflexes, and even if that last kick hadn't hurt him, it should've at least left a scrape.
Instead there was just a faint red mark.
She knew it was a strange thing to fixate on, but something about it didn't sit right.
Noticing her confusion, with barely any distance left between their faces, Sasaki offered an explanation.
"Guys are just tough like that, don't worry about it."
"Is that so..."
She nodded absentmindedly, still staring at the lines on his palm.
However, the warm breath from Sasaki's subsequent words brushing right across her delicate cheek... made her eyes pop wide open.
Way too close!
Only just realizing how near he was standing, she flushed bright red, yanked her hand back, and stumbled a step away. "W-Why would you lean in like that without saying anything! That's terrifying!"
Sasaki straightened up, tilted his head, and laughed. "You're the one who scared me, classmate. Grabbing my hand and staring at it like that."
Hearing his straightforward words, the blush spread from Shikimori's cheeks down her neck and behind her ears.
She felt like she was standing in a sauna, her face hot and her breath caught in her throat.
Not wanting him to see her this flustered, she spun around and muttered, looking away. "I-I was just checking if you were okay. I would've felt guilty if you got hurt because of me."
"I would've deserved it anyway, so don't worry about it."
Since he'd already copped a feel, dwelling on it seemed like a bad idea, so he moved on. "By the way, do you do martial arts? That move earlier was seriously impressive."
Uh uh.
She was used to getting praised for winning matches, but being told she looked strong wasn't exactly the compliment a girl wanted to hear.
Rejecting that line of praise, Shikimori pivoted back around, instinctively reaching out to cover his mouth before realizing the gesture was way too intimate.
So she pulled her hand back mid-motion, and waved her palms around in a flustered panic.
"No, no, it wasn't impressive!
I only did that because I panicked."
"You're the impressive one, getting hit out of nowhere and not even flinching."
"Just quick reflexes and some arm strength. It's nothing."
"R-Right."
"Oh, right, your phone."
Only just remembering she was still holding it, Shikimori handed it back with both hands.
Taking it and glancing at Otome's picture still on the screen, Sasaki asked, "You really don't know her?"
They looked a little alike, but had no connection at all, so the latter shook her head. "I don't. What's her name?"
"Sakuragi Otome. She grew up with me, and she's my girlfriend now, which is why I..."
Hearing that the guy who'd just groped her already had a girlfriend gave her chest a tight, uncomfortable squeeze, though it faded fast.
All her attention instantly locked onto the second half of his sentence.
Shooting him a look of disgust and annoyance, Shikimori took a step back and snapped at him fiercely, "Pervert!"
"Ahahaha..."
His head was indeed full of dirty thoughts right now, but there was nothing he could do about it—his girlfriend was just that gorgeous.
Still not knowing her name, he asked, "So, do you live around here? Do you go to Hideo Academy too?"
Despite the rocky misunderstanding at the start, after chatting for this short while, Shikimori actually had a decent impression of him, so she didn't mind sharing a few details. "I don't live around here, I was just passing through after hanging out with a friend. But yeah, I go to Hideo Academy."
"Nice, I'm in Class 2-B. I'm Sasaki Fuyumi. Sorry again about earlier."
Nodding in acknowledgment as she processed the information, Shikimori formally introduced herself in return and extended her hand. "It's fine, the misunderstanding's cleared up, so it's in the past. I'm Shikimori, second year too, Class F."
F... that's the class next to Akane's.
.
.
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