"Come talk to me about liking someone after you actually figure out what it feels like."
Mio Shirai reached out and flicked Mashiro Shiina on the forehead.
This bleached-hair, emotionless beauty—she had a bad habit of poking at Mio's heart whenever she felt like it. Mashiro's conquest rating toward the host had climbed back up to 48 points. It wouldn't be long before she broke through the 50-point threshold.
On top of that, the System hadn't issued any Mashiro-related tasks lately, which meant Mio couldn't even use task failure as a control mechanism. Keeping her distance from Mashiro was technically an option, but...
When she looks at me with those puppy eyes, there's just no way I can bring myself to do it.
The flick hadn't hurt much, and Mashiro didn't react like it had. Mio was always like this with her—rough on the surface, but impossibly gentle underneath.
This wasn't the first time Mio had said something like that to her. Mashiro genuinely wanted to understand it too—what it actually felt like to like someone. She'd been reading romance manga lately trying to find the answer, and she still hadn't.
Is wanting to always be with Mio the same as liking her?
While Mashiro was turning that question over in her head, Mio was already pulling her out of the bathtub.
Mio dried her off with a towel, sighing quietly to herself. She knew Mashiro—left unsupervised, she'd probably soak in there until she passed out.
Mio had assumed Mashiro would just stay in her room after getting changed, but the moment Mio finished helping her into her clothes, Mashiro gave a brief goodbye and walked out the door.
Mio didn't think much of it. It was still early. She figured Mashiro had gone back to work on her drawings.
······
Next door, Chihiro Sengoku was lounging on the couch with a beer, watching TV, when she noticed Mashiro come back into the apartment—freshly bathed and already returned.
"Mashiro?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Why are you back? Aren't you going to sleep with your dear Mio-chan?"
"It's not time to sleep yet."
Chihiro laughed softly at that. She was about to turn back to the TV when she realized Mashiro—who should logically be heading to her room to draw—had sat down right beside her for no apparent reason.
Mashiro's eyes were pointed at the screen, but Chihiro knew her well enough to read the subtext. When Mashiro did something this out of character, she always had something she wanted to say.
"Got something on your mind? If it's about moving in next door, I have zero objections, for the record."
"That... could happen. But that's not it." Mashiro paused—not out of shyness, just arranging her words. "Chihiro. What does it feel like to like someone?"
Chihiro nearly choked on her beer.
She turned to stare at her cousin with an expression she couldn't quite control. She'd been keeping an eye on Mashiro's school life—a girl that pretty was bound to attract attention, and she had, from plenty of people. But Mashiro had seemed indifferent to all of them. Except for one. Mio Shirai.
She'd wondered about it before. Could Mashiro actually be drawn to Mio? But then she'd talked herself out of it—Mashiro was so pure-hearted she probably didn't even understand what having feelings meant, and Mio was a girl anyway, so surely—
And then Mashiro had just asked that question.
That question said a lot of things without saying anything at all.
Mashiro caught Chihiro's stunned expression and tilted her head. Then something seemed to click, and she said, "Sorry, Chihiro."
"...Why are you apologizing?"
"I probably shouldn't be asking someone who's been single for this long about something like this."
It was such a simple, guileless sentence—and it hit Chihiro square in the chest. Especially knowing that Mashiro meant it completely literally, with zero malice. That was just what she was thinking, and so she said it.
You little...
Sure, Chihiro had looked after Mashiro for ages—but wait, no. Mio was the one who'd actually been doing that lately. Whatever, moving on.
Chihiro took a deep breath, wrestled her feelings back into order, and said with as much composure as she could manage, "Just because I'm single right now doesn't mean I don't know what it's like. I've had feelings for someone before. And someone's had feelings for me."
Something flickered in Chihiro's eyes as she said it—a flash of something complicated. Mashiro, guileless as ever, didn't notice. She just waited quietly for her older cousin to continue.
"Ahem. I'll leave my romantic history for another time. Let's talk about what it actually feels like to like someone."
"In my experience, it shows up differently for everyone. But some common signs—your heart beats faster. You think about them without meaning to when they're not around. You want to stay close to them when they are. You want to do all kinds of things together. Just being with them fills you with something that feels like joy from the inside out."
"But the one thing you have to be careful about—" Chihiro narrowed her eyes at Mashiro, "—is not confusing dependence with love."
That was less of a hint and more of a direct statement. Barely even coded.
Mashiro tilted her head at Chihiro's pointed look. She didn't quite follow what her cousin meant by that last part.
Chihiro had already predicted this reaction, and sighed. "Anyway. Remember everything I just told you, and figure out whether what you feel toward Wh— toward a certain person is love, or just dependency."
"Oh, and one more thing—if the person you like happens to be a girl, you should probably confirm she's into girls too, first. Otherwise things can get complicated fast."
"Okay. I understand. I'll go ask right now."
Mashiro stood up—and Chihiro immediately pushed her back down onto the couch.
She stared at her slightly dazed little cousin. "You're just going to go ask. Like that. Right now."
"Is something wrong?"
"...What do you think?"
"If you don't ask a question, how are you supposed to get an answer?"
Just as Chihiro was gearing up to explain the many, many things wrong with that plan, the sound of a door opening came from the entryway. Mio Shirai walked in wearing her pajamas—and then stopped, looking mildly surprised to find both of them sitting in the living room.
"What are you two talking about?"
······