The Same Road We Always Walk
My hair had refused to cooperate since the moment I woke up.
To be precise, it wasn't my whole head—the problem was the side locks sticking up on either side like a pair of stubborn ears. I'd wet them down, pressed them flat with a comb, even brought out the hair dryer, but they only pretended to behave for a moment before snapping right back to their original position the second I let go.
"...You two really never change."
Sitting in front of my vanity, I pressed my palm firmly against the right side lock. Ten seconds. Twenty. This time it actually felt like it might hold, so I lifted my hand as carefully as I could.
Sproing.
"...Sure."
At this point, shouldn't I be classifying these things not as hair but as living creatures with a will of their own? I gave up and set the comb down.
The mirror showed me a familiar face looking back. My snow-white hair fell all the way down past my waist, taking on a faint silvery sheen in the morning light, and the side locks jutting up on either side looked—no matter how many times I checked—exactly like fox ears. Below them sat a pair of vivid red eyes. The outer corners of my eyes tilted slightly upward, but the effect was less sharp than it was mischievous, and since my mouth naturally curved up at the edges, even resting my expression made me look like someone who'd just stumbled onto something hilarious.
When I was little, I'd simply found this face fascinating. Every time Mom took a photo she'd coo about how fox-like and cute I was, and delighted by the compliment, I would perch both hands on top of my head and pose like an actual fox. Thinking about it now, I wanted to travel back and tell my past self one thing: Don't encourage them. Your nickname is going to be Fox Girl someday.
Well, I suppose the hair wasn't the only reason I earned it.
I let out a small sigh at the mirror. The uniform was a minor bother too. Even though my shirt was sized for my body, it kept pulling taut across my chest, so every morning I had to straighten the hem at least once; my waist, on the other hand, left extra room, which made the overall difference in silhouette that much more pronounced whenever I wore the skirt. Since middle school I'd shot up in height and my figure had developed unmistakable curves, making it harder than it used to be to just throw on any old thing and head out.
The school uniform in particular was strangely honest about a person's build. My shoulders were narrow and my waist nipped in, but I wasn't the delicate, willowy type by any means. The legs showing below the skirt were long, and even with the uniform jacket on, the balance of it all made me noticeable from far down the hallway. With that body plus waist-length white hair worn loose, there were kids who could spot me from the opposite end of a corridor.
At first, the attention had been uncomfortable, but after living more than a decade with this face and body, I'd mostly gotten used to it. The problem was how easily everyone else got the wrong idea.
Yesterday had been a perfect example.
Saegusa Touma. A boy so famous at our school that practically no one didn't know his name. Ace starter on the basketball team. Top-tier grades. Tall, good-looking, and unfailingly kind to everyone, he'd been popular with the girls from the day he enrolled. There was even a story that on Valentine's Day last year, he'd had to borrow an extra bag from a friend just to carry all the chocolate he received, and rumors that students from other schools came specifically to watch the basketball club's practices.
That boy had called me aside after school yesterday. And told me he liked me.
I turned him down.
It wasn't that I disliked Saegusa. If anything, I thought he was a decent guy—but that was strictly an assessment of him as a friend and a schoolmate, not fondness. I figured giving him a straight answer was kinder than letting him hope for nothing. Still, one thing did nag at me: we'd barely ever been close, so when exactly had he started liking me? So I asked.
He deliberated for a while, then admitted with a slightly embarrassed look that he'd been thinking about it ever since the first time he saw me do my eye smile.
"...My eye smile."
I tried it out on the mirror. I relaxed my mouth and smiled the way I usually did, and my red eyes narrowed naturally, the upturned corners folding softly as my long lashes dipped. The face that had looked so playful a moment ago shifted, in an instant, into something gentler and warmer.
"This is why?"
It was certainly pretty—I'd be lying through my teeth to pretend modesty about my own face at this point. I knew perfectly well I was pretty. It wasn't like I'd survived one or two days at school; I'd spent nearly ten years catching people's eyes just walking down the street. And yet. Falling head over heels for a single eye smile and pining for a whole month—that, I still couldn't quite wrap my head around.
Are boys weaker than I thought?
I tilted my head. And that was when it happened.
"Mitsuki!"
A familiar voice floated up from below. I sighed. Here we go again.
"Mitsuki! I'm seriously leaving without you today!"
"You say that every day and never go!"
I opened the window and looked down. As expected, Kamiya Ren stood in front of our house. Black hair, tall frame, uniform sleeves rolled neatly up past his elbows, a canned coffee in one hand that looked like it came from the convenience store. It was a face most people would call pretty handsome.
No—honestly, forget "pretty handsome." He was very handsome. True to his station as the original manga's male lead, his face at least was beyond dispute. But I'd been looking at it for so long that it barely registered anymore.
"You're leaving already?"
I rested my elbows on the windowsill and propped my chin on them. Ren laughed like I was hopeless.
"Because you've been a no-show for ten whole minutes. You're taking it way too much for granted that I show up here and wait for you every single morning."
"It is a given."
"You just admit that outright?"
"You'll come anyway, Ren."
When I said it with an easy smile, Ren went quiet for a moment. A very brief moment. Then he raised one eyebrow with his usual slick timing.
"See you that confident, huh? Maybe it's about time I stopped coming."
"You couldn't."
"Why couldn't I?"
"You've never once left me behind and gone to school alone."
"I did when we were kids."
"When?"
"When we were five."
I narrowed my eyes. "And then I cried, so you came back."
"...You actually remember that."
"Of course. I told my mom everything—that you made me cry."
"That's because you stole my snack first."
"Little kids do things like that sometimes."
"I was a little kid too, you know."
"I was the victim here."
"Don't rewrite history just because you look half-foreign. It's still Japan."
I burst out laughing, and Ren laughed down below like he couldn't believe me.
"Anyway, hurry up and come down. I refuse to walk in right before morning assembly again because of you."
"Give me five minutes."
"Three."
"Why are you shortening it?"
"Because I've already waited ten."
"Fine, four."
Ren pretended to think for a beat. "Three and a half."
"Deal."
I nodded, satisfied. "See? A man of his word after all."
"I'm pretty sure I'm the only person alive who'd call this a negotiation."
"See you in three and a half."
I curled my eyes into a little smile and shut the window. Only then did yesterday's conversation drift back to me. The eye smile. ...Well, no worries there with Ren, anyway.
Seventeen years of looking at that face. There was no way he'd suddenly start noticing anything new at this stage. I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs.
When I opened the front door, Ren was standing in the exact same spot.
"How long was it?" I asked.
Ren checked his phone screen. "Three minutes, fifty-two seconds."
"Close enough."
He grinned and came around to my side, and I fell into step beside him as naturally as breathing. The morning breeze was cooler than I'd expected. My long hair swayed against my back, and a few strands caught the wind and blew into my face.
"Oh, hold on."
I slowed my steps and swept all my hair over one shoulder. Lifting the strands stuck to my nape up with my hand let the cool air touch my skin.
"Isn't it a little warm today?"
No answer from beside me. Still clutching my hair, I turned to look at Ren. He had his head turned slightly the other way.
"Ren?"
"...Yeah."
"Aren't you hot?"
"Hot from what?"
"The weather."
"Oh." Ren belatedly tipped his face up to the sky. "Huh. You're right, it is warm."
"What were you staring at like that?"
"The morning light's really pretty today."
"Sudden burst of poetism much?"
I snorted and flipped my hair back again. The long white strands scattered across my shoulders and back. Ren let out a small sigh.
"Why the sigh?"
"The future looks bleak."
"This early in the morning?"
"Because of someone."
"Who?"
"Nothing."
I narrowed my eyes. "You've been weird lately, Ren."
"Pot, meet kettle."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You genuinely believe everything you do is perfectly normal."
"Because it is."
Ren glanced at me once. His gaze caught on my face for a beat—then snapped right back to the road ahead.
"Yeah. And that's the scariest part."
"...What's that supposed to mean?"
"You don't wanna know."
Weirdo. I let it go. A few steps later, the canned coffee in Ren's hand caught my eye.
"Is that any good?"
"It's the kind you hate."
"Gimme a sip."
"You're gonna say it's bitter."
"I'm still curious."
Before he could offer to buy me a fresh one, I took the can and had a sip, smooth as anything. Bitterness flooded my mouth. "...Ugh."
Ren laughed immediately. "Told you."
"Why would anyone pay money for this?"
"To wake up."
"Dumping cold water on my face would work better."
Scowling, I handed the can back. Ren took it, glanced down at the rim once—then shot me a sidelong look with a playful grin.
"So, Miss Nanase."
"What."
"The person who swore she'd keep her distance from men is stealing another man's half-finished drink first thing in the morning. Very naturally, I might add."
I blinked. "Man?"
"Me."
"Since when are you a man?"
Ren's smile stiffened, just barely. Then the easy grin snapped right back into place. "Legally speaking, yeah."
"Legally, everyone except Mom and Dad counts as 'another person.'"
"Incredibly romantic answer."
"Why are romance rules suddenly in play?"
"You did just commit an indirect kiss."
I looked at the can of coffee. Then at Ren. "This?"
"Yep."
"Seriously?"
"A guy and a girl drinking from the same spot—that's what people call it, usually."
I thought about it for a few seconds, then laughed. "At this point?"
"What do you mean?"
"How many things have you and I shared already?" I started folding down fingers one by one. "We split an ice cream in elementary school, I stole your drink every single day in middle school, and just last month I ate half the crepe you were eating."
"...You remember all of that."
"I'm good at remembering food."
"That's your pride?"
I snorted. "Which is exactly why getting hung up on it now would be the weird part."
Ren said nothing for a moment. Then he brought the can to his lips, smiling. "Yeah. I suppose that's you."
"Watch that tone."
"Nothing."
He took a swig—straight from the spot I'd drunk from.
So yeah. Definitely nothing.
That was when yesterday came back to me. "Oh, Ren."
"What."
"I got confessed to again yesterday."
Ren's pace slowed, just a fraction. His expression didn't change, though. If anything, he whistled playfully.
"Wow. Again? Miss Nanase, you are on quite the streak these days."
"Watch that tone."
"Shouldn't you start stamping these? Every ten confessions, one suitor free."
"I am not a café punch card."
"Fine, twenty, then."
"Adding more doesn't solve the problem."
Laughing, I gave his arm a light swat. He laughed too. "So who was it this time?"
"Saegusa."
This time Ren didn't answer right away. "...Saegusa Touma?"
"Yeah."
"Basketball team Saegusa?"
"The one and only."
Ren nodded slowly. "Bigger catch than I expected."
"What do you mean, catch?"
"That's the guy all the girls at school are crazy about."
"So I've heard."
"You don't look exactly thrilled."
"Why would I be thrilled about someone I don't like?" I shrugged. "Turned him down on the spot."
Ren laughed. Perfectly naturally. "Yeah?"
"What."
"Nothing. I figured a guy like Saegusa might at least give you pause."
"Do good looks and popularity mean you're obligated to date someone?"
"Not exactly."
"Then end of discussion."
Ren nodded. "True. You say no, it's over."
The words were light, but his voice had eased somehow, strangely. I chalked it up to my imagination.
"But you know what's funnier?"
"What."
"I asked him why he liked me."
Ren laughed. "You rejected the guy and then interrogated him for reasons?"
"I was curious! Barely exchanged ten words with the guy and suddenly he likes me?"
"So what was his answer?"
"The eye smile."
Ren turned his head. "The eye smile?"
"Yep."
I lifted the corner of my mouth, like I was holding back a laugh. "About a month ago I smiled at him in the hallway, and he said that did it."
"Huh."
His reaction was unexpectedly flat again. Slightly annoyed, I narrowed my eyes. "That's it?"
"What do you want?"
"A response!"
"Like what?"
"At least something like 'Just an eye smile?'"
Ren looked at me for a moment. Then he snorted. "Honestly? I kind of get it."
"...Seriously?"
"Yeah."
Startled, I twisted my upper body toward him—then tried to keep my walking rhythm going, wobbled a little off-balance, and straightened my back to recover. The motion set my skirt hem and long hair swaying lightly.
"What's there to get?"
Ren answered a beat late. "...It is pretty."
"Oh."
That perked me up a little. "You think so too, Ren?"
"In an objective sense."
"Objectively?"
"Yeah."
"And subjectively?"
Ren laughed. "Greedy, aren't we."
"Well, now that we're on the topic, I'm curious!" I tilted my head. "Seventeen years of data—your evaluation should be the most accurate."
Ren looked at me for a long moment. To be precise: he looked at my eyes, then glanced once at the side locks jutting up like fox ears, then brought his gaze back to my face.
"Pretty."
"The eye smile?"
"All of it."
This time I was the one caught speechless. "Hmm. That escalated quickly."
"What, you asked because you didn't want to hear it?"
"I did, but—"
I made a pointless attempt to hide my smile and failed. "Still. Feels nice."
"There it is," Ren said immediately.
"There's what?"
"The eye smile."
I blinked. Oh. I was doing it again, wasn't I.
"Is it really that noticeable?"
"Yep."
"Then I really do need to be careful from now on." I said it half-seriously. "If I flash it at just any guy and get another confession, that's a hassle."
Ren nodded along, playing it straight. "A sound judgment indeed, Miss Nanase."
"Right?"
"So at school: don't lift the corners of your mouth, never fold your eyes, and walk around expressionless all day."
"That's terrifying, though."
"Then sunglasses."
"At school?"
"Nice."
"What's nice about that?"
I laughed, and Ren laughed along with me. Then we reached the crosswalk just as the green light started flashing.
"Should we run?" Ren said at once.
"No."
"That's plenty of time to make it."
"Not running today."
"Why not?"
I glanced down without thinking. "Because running makes my chest hurt."
Ren's gaze followed downward for the briefest instant—then snapped straight back to the crosswalk light. I didn't notice a thing.
"Ah," Ren said, in his usual playful tone. "I see. My sincerest apologies—I failed to account for Miss Nanase's various... circumstances."
"Why are you suddenly talking formally?"
"It's a delicate subject."
"What is?"
I laughed at him like he was ridiculous. "It's not like having a big chest is new. Been that way a while."
Ren coughed. "Ahem."
"See? You're catching a cold."
"I'm not."
"What's been up with you all morning?"
"Because you say things way too casually."
"It's just you. Who cares."
Without a second thought, I tugged at the bottom of my shirt to straighten it. Sitting down and standing up, or walking a long while, always made it creep up around my waist. At that exact moment, Ren turned his head fully toward the crosswalk light.
I watched him and tilted my head. "Why have you been staring so hard at that light for ages?"
"It's about to change."
"It's still red."
"Preparing in advance."
"How diligent of you."
"Thanks for the compliment."
Ren laughed. If I'd only heard his voice, everything would've sounded exactly like normal. The light changed, and we started walking again.
As the school drew closer, more and more students in matching uniforms appeared. A few of them glanced our way, but I didn't pay it much mind. Then a stronger gust blew and all my hair spilled forward over my shoulders.
"Oh, hold on."
I stopped and flipped my hair back, gathering it in both hands and holding it at the nape of my neck. The cool air on my neck felt nice.
"Ren."
"...Yeah."
"Check my bag's side pocket for a hair tie."
"Just look yourself."
"My hands are full of hair right now."
Ren opened my bag. "Where?"
"Right pocket."
"Not here."
"Deeper inside."
"Oh. The pocket on the skirt?"
Rummaging through my bag, Ren's hand suddenly froze. "Found it?"
"...No."
"Then I'll just—"
Ren held out the hair tie. "Found it."
Excuse me? Suddenly it turns up, just like that? I took it and tied my hair back into a loose ponytail. "How's it look?"
"Of what?"
"Weird or not?"
Ren looked at my face, then checked the tied-up hair once. "It's fine."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
I narrowed my eyes skeptically. "Can I trust you?"
"Don't."
"Excuse me?"
Laughing, I started walking again. The ponytail swayed gently against my back with every step.
Ren spoke up beside me. "You know, your hair up like that is kind of different."
"Different how?"
"The whole impression."
"Bad-different?"
"No." Ren snorted. "You stand out a little more."
I laughed, exasperated. "White hair and red eyes—how much more standing out can one person take?"
"Fair point."
"You take responsibility, Ren."
"Why me?"
"You said I was pretty."
"I'm on the hook for a compliment now?"
"Yep."
"That's a harsh sentence."
"You don't want to?"
Ren went quiet for a moment. Then he smiled, so naturally it was almost unfair. "Hmm. Might not be so bad, actually."
"...Bad, what?"
"Taking responsibility."
I snorted. "Smooth talker."
"Where'd you even learn that one?"
"From me?"
"Good memory."
I giggled and shook my head. Seventeen years of history, all right. This level of banter passed between us without a hitch. Which was exactly why Ren, of all people, was the one I never had to worry about.
He wasn't going to suddenly fall for a single eye smile the way Saegusa had yesterday. Me casually tying my hair up or fixing my clothes wasn't going to give him anywhere inappropriate to look. There was no reason for him to read some absurd meaning into my face or figure.
He'd been looking at me for seventeen years, after all.
And above all, he was the man who, in the original story, never chose Mitsuki in the end.
Childhood friends always lose.
I believed that, wholeheartedly.
"Oh, Ren."
"What."
"Tonkatsu for lunch today."
"Again?"
"Yep."
"Eat your own."
"Gimme one piece."
"No."
I turned to look at him. "Really?"
"Really."
"Just one piece."
"No."
Without much thought, I pushed my lips into a little pout—then quickly smiled instead. "Meanie."
Ren looked at my face. Went quiet for another beat. I tilted my head. "What."
Ren closed his eyes once, opened them, and grinned playfully. "Saegusa should feel robbed."
"Why, all of a sudden?"
"He was hoping to get through all of this and stay perfectly composed."
"'All of this' being what?"
"You don't wanna know."
"Acting like you've got all the answers again."
I grumbled, and Ren laughed.
Though it looked like a slightly strained kind of laugh.
But then—we'd promised each other, hadn't we? If something was ever bothering us, we'd say it out loud, no exceptions.
Someday he'd tell me. Probably.