After a few rounds of drinks, thanks to the alcohol, Hojou Takamasa started getting tipsy after just three cocktails. Even though the alcohol content in cocktails isn't that high, he was still a high school student—not exactly someone with much drinking experience.
Even this kind of fruity cocktail, barely considered real alcohol, was enough to make his head spin.
Regardless of gender, drinking too much inevitably loosens lips. People start saying things they shouldn't. That's why Kotomi Izumi never drank much in public—one glass at most. Even though she could hold her liquor well, she carefully kept that hidden. Outside of her parents and sister, no one knew she could drink.
This was something her father, Kaneyoshi Izumi, had taught her. Whether you can drink or not, you should always say you can't. Never let people know you have a strong tolerance.
Even someone with a high tolerance can't handle a crowd pressuring them to drink.
The safest choice is to never drink at social events. That way, you stay clear-headed and can clearly judge who's worth networking with.
You can judge a person's character by how they behave when drinking. If someone insists on pressuring you to drink, you can keep smiling and politely refuse—while silently crossing their name off your mental contact list.
From a young age, Kotomi loved learning about social dynamics and interpersonal tactics from her father. At first, she just found the stories entertaining. Over time, she realized she was actually absorbing and mastering those skills.
While other kids fell asleep listening to fairy tales, Kotomi only agreed to sleep after hearing one of her dad's stories about the battlefield of business and navigating human relationships.
Back to the present—other than her first sip being a little bold, Kotomi sipped the rest of her drink in tiny, measured amounts. She knew exactly how much to drink and when.
No one her age could match her in this kind of setting.
"Ah... It's a shame that Yamazaki-san didn't come to the closing ceremony or the afterparty. I thought maybe she was just standing far back, but I looked all over the venue and didn't see her anywhere."
Hojou Takamasa's speech was starting to slur. His cheeks were flushed from the cocktails.
Of course she didn't show up. Her face was swollen from the beating I gave her—she nearly lost half her life. Even if the healing seed is working now, it's still painful... Bitter medicine heals best, huh! Kotomi thought silently, continuing to eat her salmon sushi without saying a word.
It was obvious that Hojou Takamasa liked Mei Yamazaki. Anyone with the slightest sense of social awareness could tell.
From the very first meeting, Hojou had been drawn to Mei Yamazaki—and had become, well... a simp.
He'd stuck close to her for the past three days. Every time Mei gave him a slightly courteous reply or flashed a smile, he probably started planning what to name their future kids.
Just like back in school—when a girl borrowed something and spoke kindly, even joking with you—it made you think: Wow, am I really this popular with girls? Does she like me? Do we have a chance?
But in reality?
She might already have a boyfriend. She's only being nice to get your help. Maybe she's even exchanged contact info with you just to make it easier to ask favors.
After you've helped her, she won't delete you, but she definitely won't message you unless she needs something again.
And if you message her first?
She'll send a few short replies, maybe toss in an emoji. And that'll be enough to make you think, Wow, are we getting closer?!
sigh...
Kotomi had a kind heart. She couldn't stand seeing someone simp like this.
So she opened her mouth and asked:
"Hojou-kun, do you drive?"
Kotomi Izumi's sudden question caught everyone off guard. Why was she suddenly asking if someone could drive?
Most of them were still in their third year of high school. Even if they were of age to start learning, their schedules were packed—at most, a few had motorcycle licenses.
"I can drive a car," Hojou Takamasa replied, "just haven't had the time to get my license. Planning to do it during spring break after the college entrance exams. But I do have a motorcycle license for now—it's pretty convenient for getting around."
He wasn't quite sure why Kotomi was asking, but he answered anyway.
Of course, even if he did get a license, buying a car wasn't going to happen anytime soon. That kind of money wasn't something his family had lying around. And he planned to live on campus during university, so owning a car wasn't urgent.
Kotomi nodded thoughtfully, then said:
"Hojou-kun, let me tell you something. No matter how fast your motorcycle is, it'll never catch a Benz going up the mountain."
Both Hojou and Sakura Takino were confused by her words.
Only Shun Takino's expression subtly changed. As a huge fan of Initial D, he immediately recognized the reference. When he recalled that Mei Yamazaki's name included the character for "mountain" (山, "yama" in Japanese), and thought over Kotomi's comment...
After a moment, he understood. He turned to look at Hojou with a complicated expression—full of sympathy.
Over the past three days, he had gotten along with Hojou fairly well. Now that he understood Kotomi's subtle warning, he didn't have the heart to let Hojou continue simping.
He decided he'd find a chance after the party to talk with Hojou privately.
The group shifted the topic of conversation.
When they brought up the second round of the art exhibition, both Hojou and Shun Takino gave wry smiles.
"Honestly, getting into the first round was already a surprise. As for the second round, the bar will be way higher—I'm not holding my breath," Shun said, chuckling bitterly as he drained his cocktail.
"I know my level. Just making it to the first exhibition is a win for me. No way I'll survive the second. I'll treat it as an officially sanctioned three-day break."
"With college entrance exams coming up, the pressure is unreal. I've been dying for an excuse to take time off."
"Technically, I should've taken the exam this year, but I had to repeat a grade because I missed too many classes last semester."
"Still, coming to this first round exhibition has been great. I've made some friends—and I even met a girl who made my heart skip a beat."
"I'll be honest—I've got a bit of a crush on Mei Yamazaki. I want to pursue her! Sure, she hasn't exactly been warm to me, but hey, we just met. These things take time."
If that's your takeaway from all this... then you're down bad, Kotomi thought silently.
If the world they lived in had a live-action movie adaptation of Initial D, Kotomi would've broken into a rendition of "All the Way North" on the spot.
The family's little sea cucumber—wait, no, Phoenix—loved that song when she sang it.
Cats don't like dogs. There's a reason for that.
Kotomi decided to end the conversation. She had glanced up earlier and seen Mashiro Shiina standing a short distance away, not eating, just holding a glass of juice and quietly watching her.
Since Mashiro was standing near Hibiki Naegi and Eiren Kanagawa, Kotomi felt okay stepping away briefly.
Otherwise, if there hadn't been anyone to watch over her, Kotomi—worried Mashiro might wander off—wouldn't have left her side at all, not even for a moment.
"Still, speaking of the first-round exhibition," said Shun Takino with a sigh, "I went to the gallery every day for the past three days. Every few paintings, there was always one that really stood out. The students who made it through the selection process really aren't ordinary."
"Totally," Hojou Takamasa agreed enthusiastically. "Especially Izumi-san's painting, Twilight Sky: Sunset. The first time I saw it, I was blown away! I never imagined Izumi-san was this low-key but so talented. She's in a whole different league."
"When I saw Twilight Sky: Sunset, I honestly started questioning whether all my years of painting were a waste," said Sakura Takino with a wry smile, sipping her juice.
"Hahaha, you're exaggerating," Kotomi Izumi replied lightly. "I just felt really inspired while painting that one. Every brushstroke flowed smoothly. Before I knew it, it was finished, and that's how it turned out."
Kotomi said it casually, but there wasn't a shred of humility in her tone—just well-earned pride.
She didn't mind being modest when needed, but pretending to be humble when it served no purpose? That was like wearing fine clothes in the dark—pointless. Kotomi hated that. If people were praising her, and it wasn't some backhanded compliment, then she would absolutely accept it and show off.
Nearby participants who overheard the conversation froze. Kotomi's words hit like a gut punch.
"Every brushstroke just flowed, and before I knew it, it was done, and this was the result."
Only those who had truly studied art could appreciate just how high the bar was in that single statement—and how difficult it was to reach that level.
It was a complete immersion in the act of painting, the kind of artistic flow that comes only when inspiration truly hits.
Some artists spend a lifetime without ever experiencing that kind of creative state.
"If anyone ever says Izumi-san doesn't have talent, I'll be the first to call them out," Hojou said, raising his glass.
It was a rare chance to drink, and even if what they were drinking wasn't a real cocktail—more like an alcoholic beverage at best—it was the vibe that mattered.
"I also saw Mashiro Shiina's The Abyss Egg," said Sakura Takino. "It was completely different from her past work. The whole piece radiated this dark, almost grotesque energy. I heard the art award judges were shocked the first time they saw it. But her technique? Still just as dazzling as ever, maybe even more so."
"Yeah, Mashiro Shiina's reputation as a world-class genius is definitely well-earned. To be honest, when I first saw The Abyss Egg, I didn't think it was just a dark painting. There was a strange beauty to it, like a hopeful rebirth from the breaking shell. But hey, who are we to guess what goes on in the mind of a genius when they paint?"
Sakura laughed. "If I had one regret about this whole event, it's that I never got to see Mashiro Shiina in person. I really wanted to see what someone called a world-class genius actually looked like. In the end, I didn't even catch a glimpse of her."
"Maybe she never came to Kyoto at all."
Oh, she's here. She's standing just a few feet away, watching me... Kotomi thought to herself, feeling an odd sense of quiet pride.
Of course, Kotomi had no intention of revealing that Mashiro was at the venue. Mashiro didn't like being disturbed, so Kotomi would respect her privacy.
Besides, if anyone found out that Mashiro Shiina was at the banquet, the whole place would instantly descend into chaos.
"It's just... the white-haired girl inside that black shell in Egg of the Abyss looks a lot like Izumi-san," Sakura Takino said, casting a glance toward Kotomi, her tone casual but deliberate.
In an instant, the atmosphere grew subtly tense.
"Hahaha, Sakura, what are you saying? That's way too rude. Come on, apologize to Izumi-san. I'm so sorry, Izumi-san. I spoiled her too much growing up, and now she has no filter," Shun Takino quickly jumped in to smooth things over.
"Yeah, it's probably just a coincidence," Hojou Takamasa added.
It was no surprise the atmosphere had cooled, and both Shun and Hojou had rushed to defuse the tension.
If The Abyss Egg had a more typical artistic theme, the comparison might have been taken as a compliment.
But that wasn't the case. Sure, the painting was beautiful—but it was far from normal. The white-haired girl in the painting had no limbs, as though she were hatching from a pitch-black egg, or perhaps had been mutilated and trapped inside it forever.
Was the girl in The Abyss Egg beautiful?
Yes.
Did she resemble Kotomi Izumi?
Absolutely. The likeness was uncanny, almost as if Shiina had painted her using Kotomi as a model.
Even those who had met Kotomi only once would likely say, upon seeing the painting: Isn't that Kotomi?
But Shun Takino felt it was inappropriate to say that directly to Kotomi.
After all, the girl in the painting had no limbs. Telling someone they look like that would understandably come off as ominous—or worse, deeply offensive.
Kotomi, however, simply smiled and said lightly, "It's no problem. If I can be the heroine in a painting by Mashiro Shiina, it would be my greatest honor."
She deliberately raised her voice just enough for Mashiro Shiina, standing nearby, to hear every word clearly.
"Kotomi..." Mashiro looked at her with a complicated expression.
After exchanging well-wishes about each other's chances at the National Art Award, Kotomi turned and walked back to Mashiro's side.
And just like that, the banquet drew to a close.
Night fell like a heavy curtain.
Keihan Line.
A train rushed past—it was the final Keihan Line train of the night.
Two high school girls from Osaka sat aboard. Though they loved art, neither had much skill, so they couldn't even join their school's art club. Instead, they poured their enthusiasm into visiting art exhibitions.
When they heard that Kyoto was hosting the first round of the Tokyo Metropolitan University National Youth Art Award, they were immediately intrigued.
The exhibition didn't charge admission, but fortunately, the father of the curly-haired girl had good connections at Tokyo University and easily secured them both entry passes.
"It's amazing they displayed a new work by Mashiro Shiina in the first round," said the long-haired girl, still riding the high of the visit. "Too bad we weren't allowed to take any pictures."
"Well, given Mashiro Shiina's skill, she's bound to win the award. Once she does, and her work is shown in the third-round exhibition, we'll be able to buy tickets and take all the photos we want," said the curly-haired girl with a smile.
"That's true," the long-haired girl agreed. Then she looked around, lowered her voice, and said, "The Abyss Egg reminded me of this old urban legend I once heard."
"What legend?" the curly-haired girl asked, used to hearing dozens of these by now. Her friend was obsessed with urban legends.
The long-haired girl adjusted her expression to something more mysterious.
"They say that at a certain train station, you might run into a woman wearing a black trench coat. She keeps most of her face hidden under a hat. And in her arms, she's holding a giant black egg."
"Ugh..."
"Inside the egg is a doll with white hair."
"Wait, the doll doesn't have any limbs, right? That's so creepy!"
"But the doll looked almost exactly like a real person—you couldn't even tell the difference. That's why people started wondering—was it actually a corpse, brutally murdered?"
"But if you got close enough and looked carefully, you'd see that it was neither a doll nor a corpse. It was a living, white-haired girl, trapped in a black eggshell, without any arms or legs. Her beauty was so overwhelming, it could leave you speechless."
"If you ever run into that woman in the black coat, you must shout, 'The black egg does not acknowledge my beauty!' If you don't, you'll end up taking the place of the white-haired girl and be sealed inside the egg yourself."
"Ugh—I remember now! You told me that legend when we were kids. It was called The Woman Who Cradles the Egg of Her Beloved, right?"
"Why are you bringing this up now, on the train ride home at night?! You're trying to make sure I can't sleep, aren't you? No way I'm going home alone after that—you have to let me stay at your place tonight."
"Alright, alright~"
...
After the banquet.
Kotomi Izumi and Mashiro Shiina returned to the presidential suite. Maybe it was because she'd eaten too much, but Kotomi decided to get up and move around, tidying the last of their belongings and packing up the rest of their luggage. That way, they wouldn't be rushing to do it in the morning.
"Mashiro, why don't you take a bath first?"
"Okay."
Mashiro nodded but didn't immediately head for the bathroom. Instead, she walked softly up to Kotomi, her face slightly flushed. Slipping off her white slippers, her legs—wrapped in white stockings—seemed to glow.
After a brief silence, Mashiro gazed at Kotomi with eyes full of tender emotion, like ripples over still water, and said softly:
"Kotomi... want to bathe together?"
Kotomi's hands paused mid-fold. She sighed inwardly. She had only herself to blame. Ever since the side effect of her Queen of All Females trait kicked in and made her impulsively kiss Mashiro that one time, Mashiro's already intense stares had become even more unrestrained, revealing her true intentions.
It was as if her gaze silently confessed:
Kotomi, I'm done pretending. I really do love you.
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