Heartbeats and Illusions

After being yanked off the train by Fujiwara Chika like some last-minute kidnap attempt, Natsukawa Kanade found himself standing in the chilly evening air. A cold wind mixed with light drizzle brushed past his cheeks, slipping beneath his collar and reminding him exactly why he didn't want to be here. Not like Chika seemed to care at all, though. Her eyes were shining with reckless determination—like a pink-haired detective hot on the trail of a criminal.

"There! Moeha's across the street! Let's go before we lose her!"

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Kanade's arm again, ready to dash across the road like some kind of secret agent in a romcom.

"Oi, matte." Kanade gently pulled her back, freeing his arm as he reached into his bag for an umbrella. "You'll get yourself run over if you're not careful."

"We don't have time!" Chika protested, puffing her cheeks in frustration. "If we lose sight of Moeha, then maybe…"

"Maybe what?" Kanade raised an eyebrow, tone flat.

That question brought her momentum to a halt. Her eyes narrowed, and then she turned to glare at him.

"Senpai, stop asking so many questions!" she snapped.

…So much for logic.

What she really wanted to say was: Maybe my precious little sister is about to be swept into the world of adults! I'm not ready to become an aunt!

But she didn't. Thankfully.

"Anyway, let's hurry before she disappears—!"

"Oi," Kanade interrupted again, this time firmly grabbing her wrist just as she was about to step forward.

In the next instant—VROOOOM—a motorcycle zipped past them, kicking up a spray of cold rainwater as it flew through the intersection.

Had Chika taken one more step, that could've ended very, very badly.

"Don't just rush out like that," Kanade said seriously, his voice low and composed. "Doesn't matter what's happening—never ignore traffic signals. What if you got hurt?"

"Uu…" Chika trembled slightly. Her hand instinctively tightened around his arm, her earlier stubbornness melting into quiet nervousness.

The red light across the street glared like a warning as she bit her lower lip, eyes scanning the area beyond it.

"But… I can't see Moeha anymore…"

Just then, the soft rustling of fabric came from beside her. A moment later, she felt something warm and protective above her head—Kanade's umbrella.

"It's fine," he said quietly. "I saw which direction they went. I've memorized the route. We'll catch up slowly, okay?"

He wasn't exactly the type who understood the overprotective big sister instinct, but even he could tell how anxious she was. It wasn't like he could just leave her alone like this.

"You didn't bring an umbrella, right?" he asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "I noticed you usually walk home since you live close by. You must've taken the train today just to avoid the rain."

"Mou… President no baka…" Chika muttered, cheeks slightly red. But then she turned away with a little tsundere huff and declared, "But I guess I'll praise you just this once! Just for today, that earlier thing is forgiven!"

"…"

Kanade blinked slowly. So she's still mad about the thing I said during our study session?

"…You really are an idiot," he muttered under his breath.

Wasn't there a saying that idiots don't hold grudges? Guess she was the exception.

"I hope Moeha brought her own umbrella," Chika mumbled, glancing at the sky. "I didn't see one in her hand earlier…"

"Don't worry," Kanade replied calmly. "Your sister isn't the type to wander around getting soaked. If she didn't have one, she would've found a shop or something by now. Let's just check places carefully, one at a time."

He noticed the crosswalk light change from red to green and gently tugged Chika's hand.

"Come on. The light's green. Let's cross first."

Chika gave a quick nod and followed.

A gust of wind blew against them as they stepped into the crosswalk, sending a few stray raindrops down the back of Chika's neck. She flinched and let out a high-pitched squeal.

"Eek—!"

She instinctively leaned closer to Kanade under the umbrella, wrapping both arms around his as though trying to shield herself from the cold.

"It's so cold! >_<"

Kanade glanced sideways at her. His mouth opened slightly, as if to deliver a sharp remark, but when he saw the shiver on her face, he held it back. She's worried. No point in teasing her right now…

But Chika, feeling the weight of his gaze, quickly pouted and mumbled, "I-It's all because your umbrella is too small!"

Oi. Kanade nearly stumbled. This is a one-person umbrella, okay?! You're the one who dove in without asking!

Kanade let out a small sigh. Even though his mind was grumbling, the umbrella in his hand tilted ever so slightly toward her—just a little shift, done so casually that no one would've noticed.

"I deeply apologize for the umbrella being so chīsai," he said in a tone of mock seriousness, trying to put on his best kaichō-like frown. It was the kind of face he used during disciplinary committee meetings—stern and exaggerated enough to scare underclassmen, but not serious enough to land anyone in real trouble.

"I've come to a decision," Kanade added solemnly, his eyes narrowing. "Since the umbrella's small… I've decided to be even more sorry."

"Ehh?" Fujiwara Chika tilted her head, confusion dancing in her eyes.

With the most theatrical movement he could muster, Kanade shifted the umbrella away, leaving half of her exposed to the drizzle. His expression was one of over-the-top indifference, as if to say, 'The world is cruel. Farewell.'

"Wha—!?" Chika squeaked, immediately throwing her hands over her head like a startled cat. "Oi, what do you think you're doing?!"

She crouched a little, as if trying to shield herself from invisible fireballs, her face flustered and her movements frantic.

It only took her a few seconds to realize he was bluffing, and her embarrassment erupted into indignation. Puffing out her cheeks, she jabbed her finger into his waist with precise, irritated force. "Stupid President! Baka, baka!"

"Oi—! Don't poke there! I'll drop the umbrella!" Kanade flinched, clutching the handle tighter.

Their light banter echoed gently amidst the rain as they made their way down the busy street. They weaved through the crowd, searching carefully, yet aimlessly, for any sign of Moeha. Despite remembering where she'd last been seen, the streets were endless rivers of people, umbrellas, and shops. One glance away, and someone could vanish without a trace.

As the minutes ticked by, the sky darkened even more. The city began to shimmer under the glow of neon signs—soft blues, sharp pinks, and warm oranges reflected off wet pavement, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that danced in the mist. The rain, still gentle, coated everything with a silvery sheen.

Countless umbrellas moved like a quiet parade through the streets, each one a different color, a different story.

In this vast, bustling world, even a small figure like Moeha could become impossibly difficult to spot.

"I can't find her…" Chika murmured, her voice a low whisper that barely rose above the rain.

She was biting her lower lip tightly, her brows furrowed in frustration. "Where did she go? I should've followed her sooner… if only I had…"

"If you had, you'd probably be in the emergency room right now," Kanade replied calmly, his voice a quiet contrast to her growing panic. "You almost ran into traffic earlier, remember?"

"Ugh…"

"Besides, panicking won't help. Try to think clearly—there has to be another way."

Chika hesitated, then frowned deeper. "Should I message her…? But what if she notices I'm tailing her? That would be so embarrassing… I don't want to look like an overly clingy onee-chan."

Kanade raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Aren't you already acting like one? he thought but wisely chose not to say.

"Let's keep looking. Maybe the person she's with isn't even a guy—what if it's just one of her girlfriends?"

"That's possible," Kanade nodded. "I checked my phone earlier—there's no parking lot nearby, and the station is right next to us. If she didn't go there, then it's unlikely she's commuting. Considering the time, there's a good chance she's out for dinner. This street's packed with restaurants."

"Ah… I didn't think of that." Chika blinked, visibly relaxing. "Nee-san isn't home tonight, and I was planning to eat out anyway…"

"Exactly. But just in case…" Kanade added thoughtfully, "It's not impossible she might be doing something else. Like… part-time work at a cozy bookstore or something."

Chika raised an eyebrow. "Part-time? Moeha? She has the most pocket money out of all of us. She's basically rolling in allowance."

"Well, sure," Kanade muttered. "Still, it's not that strange for someone to want to earn on their own. For independence or experience or whatever."

But in truth, he was deliberately steering Chika's thoughts toward harmless options. He wasn't going to voice more dangerous or unwholesome possibilities—like being roped into some shady karaoke party or meeting up with a sketchy senpai. No way Chika could handle those ideas without panicking.

"Hmm… eating out does make the most sense," Chika finally nodded, reassured by the logic. "Still… we have to find her soon."

Kanade glanced sideways at her. With the unique genetics the Fujiwara sisters shared, Moeha could easily pass as someone older or younger, depending on the lighting. And that made things tricky.

"Alright then. Let's search each place on this street one by one," he said, rolling up his sleeves a bit.

"Un!" Chika gave a determined nod, her eyes regaining their sparkle.

The two of them moved into action again. Unlike open-air shopping arcades, this city was full of basement restaurants and tucked-away eateries—most of which could only be found by descending narrow staircases or spotting tiny signs hidden in shadowy alleys. In this kind of setup, you had to go inside each one to really check.

After walking for several more minutes and peeking into more than a few places, Chika suddenly tugged on Kanade's sleeve.

"Ah! I found her! Moeha's inside that place!" she whispered loudly, pointing toward the glass window of a cozy-looking family restaurant.

Kanade followed her gaze and nodded. Inside the softly-lit family restaurant, seated at a booth near the window, was Fujiwara Moeha.

But Kanade's attention didn't stop there.

His gaze subtly swept over to the other two sitting with her—a girl on one side, and across from them... a boy.

Ah, so that's what's bothering her, Kanade thought. Chika's anxiety made sense now. While having male classmates was normal, seeing your precious younger sister dining with a boy out in public like this? For a doting onee-chan like Chika, that must've felt like the opening scene of a crime drama.

Still, they'd found her, and that alone was a relief.

However, standing by the door and staring was a little too conspicuous. They were already drawing the attention of passersby. So Kanade tugged Chika's sleeve and guided her toward an empty booth in the far corner of the restaurant. Once seated, they pretended to browse the menu while sneakily peeking in Moeha's direction.

Chika slouched low, holding up the menu like it was a shield of justice.

"I can't hear anything they're saying...! I want to know what they're talking about!" she muttered, pressing her cheek to the table.

"Oi oi, there's no need to go full ninja spy just because it's a classmate dinner," Kanade whispered back. "You're acting suspicious, and the waiter's already looking at us funny."

Sure enough, a bewildered waiter hovered nearby, unsure whether to take their order or call security. Kanade sighed and took one for the team. With casual ease, he ordered a few side dishes and desserts—small enough to be eaten quickly in case they had to make a run for it.

"Honestly, I think you're overreacting. You're acting like this is her first date or something—" he began.

"Because it is!!" Chika cut him off with a dramatic whisper, her eyes wide with emotion. "Moeha has never gone out with a boy before! Not even once! As her big sister, I have to protect her innocence!"

"...You know, the way you said that makes her sound like a heroine in a taiga drama," Kanade muttered under his breath.

He wanted to point out the irony. Here she was, a high school girl, having dragged him out into the rain to tail her little sister—alone, just the two of them—and yet she acted like Moeha's dinner outing was some kind of scandal.

Still, he didn't say anything more. If Chika wanted to indulge in this kind of nonsense, he'd go along with it. That was just the kind of guy Natsukawa Kanade was.

That said, real life wasn't like an anime or manga. There were no shocking plot twists, no sudden love confessions, no dramatic betrayals. From what they could observe, Moeha and her companions were just eating and chatting like normal friends. They laughed, exchanged stories, passed around the menu—it was entirely ordinary.

In fact, Kanade noted with some detachment, the boy seemed far more interested in the girl sitting beside Moeha than in Moeha herself. If anything, Moeha was probably just the third wheel.

But Kanade wasn't particularly curious about other people's teenage romances. To him, watching the drama unfold was less interesting than dipping fries into ketchup.

"Oh! Oh! They're getting up!" Chika whispered sharply, nearly jumping from her seat. "President, quick! Hide!"

Her definition of "hiding," however, left a lot to be desired. All she did was lower her head and pretend to eat her parfait with great intensity. The pose was so suspicious that it made her look more obvious.

Kanade, meanwhile, didn't even flinch. He remained calmly seated, casually sipping his drink.

Predictably, as the trio passed by the booth, Moeha's eyes happened to wander toward their corner. And in that instant, she froze.

Kanade could see it play out in real time—Moeha's eyes scanning the crowd, locking onto his face, her expression flickering with realization. Then her gaze drifted toward the unmistakable silhouette of her pink-haired older sister, who was currently hunched over with all the subtlety of a startled tanuki.

A slow, mischievous smile curled on Moeha's lips. Kanade recognized that smile well. It had just the right blend of playfulness and menace—a devilish grin that promised future torment.

Yare yare... he sighed inwardly.

Kanade glanced at Chika, still oblivious, still clutching her spoon like it held the fate of her pride. He looked at her with a flicker of pity.

You're in for it now, he thought. And though he wouldn't say it aloud… in his heart, he was already offering up silent prayers for her soul.