All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

Just as Hibiki Naegi had guessed, the apartment complex where Chihiro Sengoku lived was indeed a luxury one.

Then again, most apartments in Tokyo tended to be high-end, offering comfort and spaciousness... Of course, the monthly rent would leave your wallet feeling very empty.

If you wanted to buy one, it might take the combined wallets of six family members to manage it.

Clearly, Hibiki hadn’t yet experienced the harshness of society. When she saw the upscale apartment, her eyes immediately sparkled as she thought, ”Will I be able to live in a place like this after I graduate and get a job?”

Kotomi casually searched the purchase price and monthly rent for that complex and handed her phone to Hibiki.

One glance, and Hibiki’s face stiffened. Her hand trembled as she returned the phone to Kotomi, her eyes hollow like she had just lost her dreams.

For young Hibiki, this was her first taste of reality’s cruelty—learning what real estate costs were actually like.

Even if I worked myself to death for a hundred years, I still couldn’t afford a house in Tokyo... Hibiki looked up at the sky in despair.

Meanwhile, Kotomi was already on the phone with Mashiro Shiina:

”Morning, Mashiro! I’m downstairs at your cousin’s place. Have you packed yet? When do you think you’ll be down? Want me to come up and help with your luggage?”

”Mmm~ Thank you, Kotomi... eh?”

Although Mashiro only had one suitcase and could easily carry it herself, she wanted to find any excuse to spend a little more time alone with Kotomi.

If Kotomi came upstairs to help, Chihiro wouldn’t have to come down—giving Mashiro a precious few minutes alone with her. Three minutes in the elevator, five minutes walking out of the complex... all in all, about eight minutes. It wasn’t much, but Mashiro understood the phrase ”every little bit counts.”

Before she could finish speaking, her phone was snatched away by Chihiro Sengoku.

”Hello? Kotomi? You’re already downstairs? Got it, just wait for me at the entrance. I’ll bring the car around from the parking garage. See you in a bit.”

After hanging up, Chihiro slipped the car keys into her pocket and bent down to put on her shoes. That’s when she felt a pointed, resentful gaze—from Mashiro.

As someone who had watched her little cousin grow up, Chihiro could easily guess what she was thinking.

Whoops, looks like I just became the bad guy.

Chihiro shrugged helplessly and looked over at Mashiro, teasing:

”My dear little cousin, you really think on your feet, huh? Trying to use the excuse of helping with your suitcase to get eight minutes alone with Kotomi? If I don’t come with you, how am I supposed to drive you both to Tokyo Station?”

”It’s a bit far from here, you know. Sure, Kotomi and Hibiki could probably walk there with no problem. But you?”

”You’d be asking Kotomi to carry you halfway there. Wait a second—was that your real plan all along?! Not bad, Mashiro! You’ve been spending too much time with our little mischief-maker Kotomi.”

Mashiro puffed her cheeks ever so slightly, frustrated that her carefully crafted plan—one she had thought about for almost a month—had been ruined by a single sentence from Chihiro.

Chihiro chuckled and opened the front door, giving Mashiro a light push on the head:

”Stop obsessing over those eight minutes. Once we’re on the shinkansen, you’ll have hours to spend with Kotomi.”

Mashiro quickly realized that was true. Her seat was right next to Kotomi’s. Her expression, usually calm and reserved, suddenly bloomed into a soft smile like spring sunshine.

”But speaking of which, Mashiro,” Chihiro Sengoku said casually, ”do you really think things in this world happen so coincidentally?

The art exhibition organizers gave everyone Green Car tickets, but the seats were supposed to be randomly assigned. And yet, you and Kotomi just happened to end up seated next to each other?”

Mashiro froze. Out of all the randomly selected seats, hers was placed right next to Kotomi’s...

”Maybe... the heavens are tying a red string between me and Kotomi?” Mashiro tilted her head and voiced the reason she had come up with.

”That romantic imagination of yours really suits painting...”

Chihiro couldn’t help but cover her face. How could her cousin be so adorably dense? She really needed a good knock on the head.

Mashiro paused and then looked surprised: ”Wait—was it you, Cousin?!”

Seeing she had finally guessed it, Chihiro placed her hands on her hips proudly: ”Hmph! Your cousin here does still have some influence. Something as small as getting you two seated together—of course I could make it happen.”

”Thank you, Cousin!” Mashiro beamed with a rare, full smile.

Chihiro suddenly regretted not pulling out her phone in time to snap a photo. Such a rare expression, and she let the moment slip by.

Still, if she revealed the next surprise, Mashiro might smile even brighter.

Chihiro hadn’t only arranged for Mashiro and Kotomi to sit together—she’d also arranged...

Well, she decided to keep that part a secret for now. It was already taken care of, and once the two arrived in Kyoto, they’d naturally find out.

Just a little surprise from one cousin to another.

Chihiro wasn’t exactly old-fashioned. If she were, she wouldn’t be able to joke and banter with Kotomi like close friends. It was obvious to her that Mashiro truly liked Kotomi.

Mashiro didn’t know how to describe love. That’s why, when she tried to depict it in her manga, she quietly added one line of narration:

—Love is the feeling I have every moment since meeting Kotomi.

If Mashiro ever got her manga published, readers would probably be confused when they came across that line. ”Who’s Kotomi?”

But Chihiro understood. Mashiro liked Kotomi—that much was clear. And the fact that her cousin had fallen for another girl didn’t bother Chihiro in the slightest. As long as the feelings were mutual, she’d be the first to support them.

But Mashiro’s parents...

After the spring break of their second year, Mashiro’s parents were scheduled to come to Japan and take her back to the UK. There wasn’t much time left for them.

Chihiro felt helpless. She didn’t dare tell Mashiro’s parents about any of this. If they found out their daughter liked another girl, they might cancel the wait entirely and come to Japan immediately.

After thinking it over, Chihiro felt the only thing she could do was to help Mashiro and Kotomi create as many cherished memories as possible before Mashiro left.

The more beautiful memories they shared, the less painful their parting might be...

Hopefully.

”Cousin, why does your face look so... weird?” Mashiro suddenly asked.

Chihiro snapped out of her thoughts and quickly changed the subject—Mashiro’s powers of observation were razor-sharp!

”Weird? No way. Anyway, the elevator’s here, let’s head down. Let’s not keep Kotomi and the others waiting. There are two sandwiches in your tote bag—if the shinkansen gets delayed, eat those to hold yourself over. Judging by how this art exhibition is usually run, you probably won’t get lunch until at least 1 p.m. after arriving in Kyoto.”

”Are we eating together as a group?”

If that were the case, Mashiro would be disappointed. She didn’t want a group lunch—she wanted to find a quiet restaurant where she could sit face-to-face with Kotomi.

”Not really. But after the student attendees gather, the judges—those professors from the University of Tokyo and Kyoto University—will give some speeches. And if you know, you know: when teachers say ’a few words,’ they usually mean two hours.”

”Why do you sound so experienced with this?”

”Duh. I was selected for the very first art exhibition back in the day. Finally made it to Kyoto, and instead of lunch, I spent almost three hours listening to those judges talk!”

The worst part was that Chihiro had skipped breakfast, thinking she could eat once they got to Kyoto. But no—instead she stood hungry and lightheaded for hours, nearly fainting.

In that moment, she had mentally cursed every female member of the judges’ families and nearly added, ”Say one more word and I’ll dig an extra shovelful on your ancestral grave!”

After picking up Kotomi and Hibiki, Chihiro was extra glad that she hadn’t chosen a stylish two-seater sports car. Instead, she’d gone with a deep red SUV.

If she’d picked a sports car, forget about four passengers—she wouldn’t have even had room in the trunk for their luggage.

Long live SUVs!

Chihiro cheered internally.

”Good morning, Miss Sengoku. Sorry to trouble you this morning,” Hibiki greeted politely as she got in the car.

”Yo, yo, yo~ Good morning, little Chihiro!”

”Address me properly: ’Teacher,’ please.”

”Didn’t you ask me to come up with a nickname that makes you sound youthful? Isn’t ’little Chihiro’ perfect?”

As usual, Kotomi and Chihiro greeted each other like best friends instead of teacher and student. Anyone watching them would never guess their actual roles.

”Is there no title that carries a bit of friendliness, a bit of authority, a bit of elegance and gentleness... and just a hint of allure?”

”Ugh, just from that line, I can tell you’re a veteran client.”

Kotomi twitched at the corner of her mouth. Even if she maxed out her writing skills, she probably still couldn’t fulfill Chihiro’s bizarre request!

At this early hour, the roads were quiet, with hardly any pedestrians or cars. Chihiro finally got a rare chance to let loose and speed up.

Normally, she took the train to work and didn’t get to drive much. Even on the rare occasion she did drive, traffic was always so bad that her Ford Raptor could barely crawl forward.

”The rarest sight in any city is a traffic-free road,” Chihiro said, speeding happily within her control limits.

Deep down, many people have a racer’s soul.

So how wild does Chihiro Sengoku drive, exactly?

Even Kotomi, who rarely wore a seatbelt when riding in cars, instinctively buckled up the moment she got into Chihiro’s Raptor. She didn’t dare roll down the window either, afraid that one drift from Chihiro would launch her straight out of it.

A ride that should’ve taken 20 minutes was compressed into just 10—and that included time spent looking for a parking spot.

Kotomi and Hibiki Naegi got out of the car pale-faced. This was their first time riding with Chihiro behind the wheel.

But the one who fared the worst was Hibiki. Her legs had already been unsteady due to exhaustion, and during the walk earlier, she’d had to constantly steady herself with handrails or walls. After the high-speed ride, the moment she stepped out of the car, her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground with a thud.

Chihiro was momentarily stunned—had her proud art club president fallen to her elegant, goddess-like driving skills?

A bit embarrassed yet smug, she decided then and there: when the girls returned from Kyoto, she’d be the one to pick them up. And she’d drive even faster!

Clearly under the illusion that her driving was impressive, Chihiro had entered full-on hype mode and resolved to rocket Kotomi and Hibiki from Tokyo back to Chiba at record speed.

Standing by the trunk, lifting her suitcase out, Kotomi suddenly felt a chill run down her back.

Is someone trying to hurt me...? she thought. But Kotomi wasn’t scared—after all, she had the divine blessing of Kazumi.

Once Hibiki had regained a little strength and could just barely stand, they didn’t linger outside. Even though there was still plenty of time before the shinkansen departure, waiting inside the station would be more comfortable.

”Miss Sengoku, we’ll head in now. You should get going too.”

”Once I see you go in, I’ll drive to school. Hibiki, you’re the art club president—make sure to take care of these two unreliable members.”

But these two were also the best artists in the club... Hibiki thought with a bitter smile. Going to Kyoto with two prodigies didn’t make her feel lucky or relaxed—if anything, she’d been weighed down with anxiety for days.

That was exactly why Seiko had pushed herself so much last night—because she could tell Hibiki was stressed. Though, to be fair, double-digit rounds weren’t unusual for them.

”Little Chihiro, I’ll take good care of Mashiro,” Kotomi said sincerely.

”You brat...” Chihiro took a deep breath, then slowly closed her eyes and solemnly said, ”Mashiro... I leave her in your hands.”

Mashiro quietly grabbed the hem of Kotomi’s coat, her cheeks blushing as she lowered her head.

Watching the two of them like this—like a daughter and her future son-in-law meeting the father for the first time—Hibiki tugged at the corner of her mouth and interjected:

”Kotomi, Mashiro, save the drama. Let’s get inside the station. It’s freezing out here.”

”Miss Sengoku, you really need to stop getting Kotomi into trouble. Remember last time? You two were standing in front of that big white wall at school, talking about how to sneak in at night to graffiti it. Right when the discipline director walked by. Result? Class 1-B had six phones confiscated.”

”Ehehe~”

Kotomi and Chihiro let out identical mischievous giggles in perfect sync.

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