Chapter 92: A Bitterly Ironic Mismatch

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Translator: Soafp

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After Ginji had gone home, Sora was lazing around in her room, hugging a stuffed animal.

“Ughhhhh, I can't sleep! I wanna spam Ginji with likes!! …Not that I will.”

About two hours ago, Ginji had messaged her with, “I'm home. See you tomorrow,” and they had exchanged goodnight texts for about an hour after that.

She wanted to call him too, but she knew if she did, they'd end up talking forever. So she was desperately trying to resist the urge.

“This isn't working. I can't sleep… Maybe I'll do a little drawing?”

She had already used her brain with student council work, but thanks to that kiss with Ginji, her body still felt warm and restless. She glanced at the clock. The hands pointed to 11 p.m.

She sat up, peeled off her pajamas, and walked downstairs in just her underwear. She grabbed her coverall that had been hanging to dry. Sliding her legs in, she zipped it up. The fabric rubbed a bit against her skin, but since she was only going to draw a little, it should be fine.

The first floor was temperature-controlled so it wouldn't get too hot and damage her artwork, making it a bit warm but not unbearable. She turned on the AC and pulled out her sketchbook.

“Moments like this call for full-on delusional creativity! Steampunk!”

She pulled factory pipes and gears out of her imagination. Since this was just for fun, she decided to go with a more manga-style sketch.

Bringing over her desk lamp, she began scratching her pencil across the page. Interlocking gears, a clock tower, the texture of steam, a city dusted with soot. People wearing masks and long coats.

Even as she drew, thoughts of Ginji spun around in her head—tomorrow's lunch, their next date. Drawing her favorite things while thinking about her favorite person. For Sora, it was an incredibly happy time.

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Meanwhile, Ginji was slumped over the living room table, equally unable to sleep. His younger brother Tetsuya, seeing his older brother in shorts and a T-shirt holding his head in his hands, sighed and set a glass of barley tea in front of him.

“…Something happen?”

“My girlfriend's too cute.”

“…”

After a brief silence, Tetsuya let out a long sigh, stood up wordlessly, and started to leave. Ginji stopped him.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just have a question.”

Ginji downed the barley tea in one go and sat up straight, his expression serious.

“If this is about bragging about Sora-senpai, I'd rather not hear it.”

“It's not that. …Say there's a boss with tons of creativity and drive, and a subordinate who's amazing at execution and detail. What do you think of that combo?”

“Sounds ideal, doesn't it?”

“What if their abilities were swapped?”

“What kind of question is that…? Well, I guess if the ambitious subordinate gets recognized by their superior, it could still work out.”

“Right. So what if they're not boss and subordinate, but equals?”

“Then they just need to cooperate.”

“…But what if they're rivals, and one of them absolutely refuses to lose to the other?”

“Well… depending on the situation, they might end up clashing. You done now? I'm going to bed.”

“Yeah, sorry for the weird question.”

After Tetsuya went back to his room, Ginji lay down on the couch.

When the student council found out about Sora, Ginji had felt a twinge of jealousy. But that wasn't the only thing that bothered him—he couldn't understand why Aika had discarded Sora.

If Sora was that talented, wouldn't it have made sense to keep her close? The student council's current state made that pretty obvious. Instead, Aika gave her meaningless tasks and eventually cast her aside. Sora probably would've been content working under Aika, but Aika didn't accept that.

“…It's ironic.”

Sora had genuinely believed Aika was better than her and was satisfied supporting her.

But Aika had felt differently. She couldn't accept a version of herself that couldn't be like Sora. Unable to acknowledge her own shortcomings, she pushed Sora away. Rather than change herself, she tried to change Sora—going so far as to make her dress like a boy, essentially denying who she was.

There might have been a future where they could've had a perfect partnership. But once the water has spilled, it can't go back in the bowl. Now, all Aika could do was see Sora as a threat.

Word of what happened in the student council would spread quickly. When Aika's position was undermined, it was unclear how she would react to what she feared most—Sora's artwork.

At the very least, Aika had already torn up Sora's drawings and taken away any place for her to present them.

“I've got to make her happy.”

He stared up at his hand stretched toward the ceiling. He would protect Sora's smile—no matter what.

“All right. Time to start planning.”

He sat up with renewed determination—just as a notification pinged on his phone.

He opened it to find a smug-looking selfie of Sora holding her sketch.

[Drew sooo many pipes ✧ド(*,,ÒㅅÓ,,)ャ✧]

It reads.

[Looks sick. Show me the real thing tomorrow. Also, go to sleep—you're exhausted.]

He sent the reply, closed the screen, and thought to himself that her carefree nature was perfectly fine. Letting out a yawn, he headed for his room.