All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

Seeing Mashiro Shiina’s obviously misunderstanding expression, Kotomi Izumi hurried to explain:

”Even though I don’t know why you thought that way, just by looking at your face, I know you definitely misunderstood my words! Seriously... stop always misunderstanding. It makes me look like some scumbag girl who has nothing but ’naughty thoughts’ in her head.”

Kotomi strongly protested!

While she wouldn’t call herself brilliant, she wasn’t so depraved that her mind was filled with only ”naughty thoughts.”

”Kotomi, you chose this place because it’s close to the hotel, right? That way, if we get tired from walking, we won’t have to walk too far to get back,” Mashiro said with a gentle smile, revealing the reason behind Kotomi’s decision.

Many people who travel to a new city have likely encountered this situation: you walk and explore so much that you forget the distance. When it’s time to head back, your legs are already exhausted, and every step feels like torture.

Even worse, you might get lost. Two girls wandering the streets at night, unsure of the way back?

The danger level skyrockets. More timid ones might not even dare to ask strangers for help, and if they happened to run into bad people... it would be a nightmare.

Kotomi had always been cautious, so when deciding where to take a night stroll, she prioritized places she was familiar with, close to the hotel, brightly lit with lots of foot traffic—like Okazaki Park.

It completely eliminated the risk of two girls wandering in the dark.

Ever since the Yuharu Isshiki incident, Kotomi had become much more careful. She could never forget the sheer terror of being stalked by a murderer. She had been so frightened she didn’t dare to scream, nor to show any unnatural reaction, forcing herself to act calm while desperately looking for a chance to escape.

If luck hadn’t been on her side, such opportunities might have been as thin and fragile as a spider’s thread—hard to find, harder to grab.

Kotomi absolutely never wanted to experience that kind of terror again.

She took a deep breath, pulling herself back from the dark memories, then smiled helplessly and asked Mashiro, ”You knew the reason, didn’t you? Why did you pretend not to and make such a suggestive face?”

Kotomi suspected that sometimes Mashiro knew exactly what was going on but liked to play dumb for some reason.

Whether someone was pretending to be clueless, Kotomi could usually tell right away.

After all, she was a genius at pretending herself.

”I just wanted to act a little silly in front of you,” Mashiro said matter-of-factly with a smile.

Kotomi froze for a second after hearing that, but said nothing more. She simply continued strolling through Okazaki Park with Mashiro.

However... Kotomi’s little hand ”naturally” reached out and gently held Mashiro’s small hand.

After Kotomi held her hand, Mashiro’s cheeks flushed red, and the smile at the corners of her lips grew sweeter, like sugar and milk slowly blending into a cup of hot coffee, turning it into sweet coffee.

Mashiro Shiina’s 100-day campaign had 99 days left.

Day three.

Kotomi didn’t plan to visit the National Museum of Modern Art in Kyoto today. After all, she had already visited yesterday, and besides Mashiro’s ”The Abyss Egg,” there hadn’t been any other artworks that really caught her attention.

Kotomi had also checked out Hibiki Naegi’s painting yesterday. Her technique was solid, and anyone could immediately see that her basic skills were strong. The lines were smooth and natural, with an appropriate sense of composition. If this were a fine arts exam, she would have made a great first impression on the examiners.

If Hibiki wanted to pursue the path of an art student, her current skill level gave her a strong chance of getting into a good university.

But that was about it...

If Hibiki wanted to achieve any major breakthroughs purely through painting, it would be extremely difficult.

It was as if she stood inside an ordinary-sized room—neither too low nor too high. No matter how hard she worked, diligently burying her head in her drawings like she always did, the cruel reality remained: talent would always be her roadblock.

”Genius is 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration.”

This phrase had served as a classic motivational quote for countless people. Even now, many students burning the midnight oil still wrote it down in notebooks or posted it prominently as a reminder to push themselves.

Hibiki firmly believed in this phrase—her Twitter profile even had it as her tagline. Kotomi had been a little surprised when she first added Hibiki as a friend and saw that quote.

After all, it was rare for a high school girl to set such a serious quote as her signature. Most preferred copying something flowery or poetic from a red-themed music app’s comments section.

When Kotomi had stared at her Twitter tagline back then, Hibiki had scratched her head awkwardly and said:

”It might seem weird, but this has always been my favorite quote. I’ve loved it ever since I first learned it back in elementary school. It’s been my tagline for six years and I don’t plan on changing it.”

Recalling Hibiki’s words, Kotomi suddenly felt like telling her that the most important part of that quote had never been the 99% perspiration—it was always the 1% inspiration.

But every time Kotomi thought about telling her, it was as if she lost control over her own mouth. She could never say it.

Since she couldn’t say it, Kotomi decided to leave it to fate. Maybe someday she’d find the right moment to gently point it out. Or maybe Hibiki would come to realize it on her own.

After getting up and washing up, Kotomi glanced at Mashiro, who was still sleeping soundly in bed, her cute sleeping face like a sleeping beauty from a fairy tale.

As Kotomi admired Mashiro’s peaceful expression, she finally understood why when she had slept with Megumi before, Megumi would often secretly sit up at night just to watch her sleeping.

Megumi Kato had thought Kotomi was always deeply asleep when she secretly watched. But in truth, ever since the second time, Kotomi had known about Megumi’s little habit.

After realizing it, Kotomi had laughed secretly many times inside. She never thought Megumi’s little hobby was so cute. Was she too embarrassed to admit it because she was afraid of being teased?

Even though Kotomi knew Megumi would sneak peeks at her while she slept, she never exposed her. Every time they shared a bed, she would let Megumi enjoy watching her quietly.

Kotomi loved the feeling of being gently gazed at by Megumi’s warm eyes.

If there was anything slightly inconvenient...

It was that whenever Megumi watched her sleep, her hands and feet tended to get restless.

Every time, Kotomi had to secretly bite the edge of the blanket to keep from making a sound that would reveal she was awake.

Now it was Kotomi’s turn to secretly watch Mashiro Shiina sleeping.

I suddenly kind of understand why Megumi couldn’t keep her hands and feet still when she watched me sleep... Kotomi thought, feeling a wave of sympathy.

To avoid falling into the same trap, Kotomi quickly tore her gaze away after a few minutes, hurriedly got dressed, and rushed off to eat breakfast!

After quietly closing the door to the presidential suite behind her, Mashiro—who had seemed sound asleep on the bed—slowly opened her bright orange-red eyes.

Remembering how Kotomi had stared at her sleeping face for a long time, Mashiro sighed softly:

”Sigh... Kotomi stared at me sleeping for so long, so why didn’t she kiss me? That’s not how fairy tales are supposed to go!”

While eating breakfast, Kotomi didn’t eat too much—she just cleared out all the fried noodles from the buffet.

After filling her stomach completely, Kotomi sat back in her chair and let out a long, satisfied breath. She wasn’t sure if it was because she naturally had a big appetite and liked the feeling of being full, or if liking that feeling had caused her appetite to grow.

It was like the classic question: which came first, the chicken or the egg? No matter which side you argued for, you could go hoarse and still not convince the other. For questions like this, Kotomi’s consistent stance was: better not to bother. Just focus on living her own life.

After all, her appetite had been big since she was little, and she wasn’t interested in finding out why. It’s not like there was some hidden reason, right? That would just be ridiculous.

Kotomi believed she was simply born with a big appetite.

However, maybe it was due to being abandoned by her birth parents as a baby, traveling through two parallel worlds, and finally being reborn back here. Kotomi found that only when her stomach was completely full could she truly calm down and feel alive.

Kotomi, deep down, was a person who lacked a sense of security.

Once you’re full, you have to quench your thirst too. Kotomi got up and poured herself a big glass of juice, planning to sip orange juice while enjoying the morning scenery outside the window.

Even though it was just ordinary orange juice, Kotomi managed to drink it with the grace of a high-class socialite sipping fine wine, as if she were already draped in a backless gown, moving to classical music.

”Judging by the time, they should be receiving my gifts—the ’River of Stars’—and my letters by now. I hope Megumi Kato likes hers. I hope Yukino Yukinoshita, after receiving my little surprise gift, will melt that icy aura just a little when we’re alone together. That silly dumpling Yui Yuigahama will probably rush into the kitchen and whip up a pile of desserts after reading her letter. And then...”

Kotomi took another sip of orange juice, imagining the reactions each of them might have upon receiving their letters, and the more she imagined, the higher the corners of her mouth lifted.

As for whether they might share the letters with each other—or worse, have someone else at home accidentally see them—Kotomi was confident that it was impossible.

First, most of the girls got along pretty well. The only real exception was Aimi and Megumi. For some reason, those two always seemed like natural enemies. Every time they met, it felt like fire and water clashing, and it wasn’t a proper meeting unless they fought a little. Aimi would always launch the first attack, only to get beaten down like a helpless chicken.

Aside from that strange ”enemy relationship,” Kotomi thought her group of beautiful girls got along nicely, though not to the extent of exchanging letters with each other.

Moreover, each letter Kotomi wrote had a slightly ambiguous tone. Girls cared about their reputations. Unlike Kotomi, who shamelessly acted like a mischievous witch, none of the others would willingly reveal that they had received such gifts and letters.

For instance, after Iroha and Aimi received Kotomi’s gifts and letters, even if they were delighted, they would never go around telling others about it.

Second, the delivery times for the gifts and letters would naturally be staggered. Each area of Chiba City had its own designated delivery times, so there was no risk of everyone receiving them simultaneously or the courier delivering them to the wrong person.

In short, Kotomi felt that her plan of giving the same Kyoto ceramic gift to each girl, along with uniquely tailored letters, had almost zero chance of exposure.

Thinking of this, Kotomi was filled with the grand, almost villainous ambition of a master strategist. She thought that if she had been transported to another world by a truck, she’d surely have become a legendary, peerless military genius.

With such a steady arrangement, Kotomi felt she could host a ”heroes debate over wine.” Seriously, who else could be as steady as her?

”If heaven hadn’t born me, Kotomi Izumi, the world of tea would remain shrouded in eternal night... Cough, cough! Wait, why did I end up memorizing that ridiculous line Aimi made up?” Kotomi said helplessly.

Ever since the last time Aimi got into a fight, Kotomi had realized just how scary her little sister’s combat ability could be. She wondered how the poor girl whose face had almost been wrecked by Aimi was doing now.

After the fight, Aimi had even been eloquent in her scolding, quoting classical Chinese texts and ancient poems Kotomi had taught her, stringing them together seamlessly.

If only she didn’t always end her tirades by proudly declaring: ”My sister taught me this.”

And if only she hadn’t shouted: ”If heaven hadn’t born my sister, the world of tea would remain shrouded in eternal night!”

While Kotomi was happily eating her breakfast and humming a tune, delivery workers in Chiba City were already hard at work.

Morning.

Chiba.

Compared to usual, Sobu High School had delayed the start time of classes today.

For example, the second-year students wouldn’t have their first period until 10:00 a.m.

First-year students were given the entire day off.

Instead of sitting in a classroom, the first-years were still lounging comfortably at home, dreaming of having every day off.

Why the change?

According to some well-informed teachers, it was to free up classrooms so the third-year students could take their mock exams.

Hiiragi Apartments.

After finishing her breakfast, Yukino Yukinoshita sat on the sofa, sipping freshly boiled hot milk while scrolling through the news on her phone. Thinking about the day off, she smiled slightly:

”If Kotomi were here, she’d be bragging more loudly than anyone about getting a day off.”

Unknowingly, Kotomi’s presence had started to work its way into Yukino’s heart—even if Yukino herself hadn’t realized it yet.

Yukino leisurely spent an hour scrolling through news, when suddenly her phone rang with a sharp, crisp ringtone.

”Hello, who is this?” Yukino asked in her usual cool tone. To her, it was a normal question. To others, it might have sounded like a freezing wall of rejection.

”Hello, this is the courier company. You have a package. Would you like to come down to sign for it, or should we leave it at the pickup point?”

The moment she heard it was about a package, Yukino immediately remembered the notification she received last night—a text saying a delivery from Kyoto would soon arrive.

Since she hadn’t bought anything lately, there was only one person who could be sending her something from Kyoto—Kotomi Izumi, who had gone to the art exhibition.

”Alright, I’ll come down to sign for it. Please wait a moment.”

After hanging up, Yukino headed out. She preferred to sign for packages directly—using the pickup service always meant wasting time searching for her parcel, sometimes even struggling to find it.

Meanwhile, after calling Yukino, the courier began dialing another number—

Arisu Sakayanagi’s number.

”Hello, this is the courier company. You have a package. Would you like to come down to sign for it or leave it at the pickup point? Yes, yes, it’s from Kyoto. You’ll come down? Okay, understood.”

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