Storm of Confessions

Thursday's part-time job: rental boyfriend.

His client was the same woman as before—a stunning beauty with a tragic past. She had lost her son early and her husband more recently. Neighbors called her unlucky, but Sakurai Saki didn't care about gossip. He was there to do a job—and to get paid.

Still, their arrangement didn't feel like a cold transaction. It felt more like an unspoken bond, like an exchange of familial affection.

Her name was Minamoto Mashiro.

Having lost her only child, Mashiro seemed to pour all that bottled-up maternal warmth onto Sakurai. And for some reason, he didn't reject it. Maybe it was because deep down, he didn't hate being cared for. Maybe it was because… he needed it, too.

It was supposed to be a "rental boyfriend" gig, but the title felt off.If anything, "rental little brother" or "rental son" would've made more sense.

"Saki-kun~ Eat this~" Mashiro smiled, placing a spoonful of vegetables into his bowl. "You're still growing, so eat up."

Sakurai gave her a small, quiet smile."Thank you, Mashiro-nee."

He looked at her face for a moment too long, his mind drifting.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently, touching her cheek with concern. "Does Big Sister's cooking not suit your taste today? I made everything soft—just the way you like it."

She tilted her head. "Didn't you say last time you were craving stew?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Sakurai shook his head."No… Mashiro-nee's cooking is always delicious."

He wasn't thinking about the food—he'd simply gotten lost in a memory. Something old. Distant.

"As long as you like it~" Mashiro smiled warmly, rising to refill his bowl. "Boys need to eat to grow strong. If you stay this thin, Big Sister will worry~"

Sakurai accepted the new bowl without protest.

"I'm not that thin," he murmured.Though his frame was slim, he had lean muscle where it counted. Anyone who tried to bully him had learned that firsthand.

"You still need to eat more," Mashiro said firmly. Then, her tone turned conspiratorial. "Big Sister sees all kinds of things online… Like how handsome boys are always being pushed up against walls by girls…"

Sakurai froze.

He instantly recalled the exact moment Ai-chan had pinned him to the blackboard earlier that day.Humiliating."Now you understand how I feel," she'd whispered, burning the memory into his brain.

Mashiro's words brought him back:"Boys need to learn how to protect themselves when they go out. If they're too nice, too soft-hearted… bad women will lead them astray."

Her voice was light, teasing, but there was real worry in her eyes.

Saki-kun is too handsome… And too kind. He never says no. He doesn't know how to turn people away. That kind of boy is going to be deceived one day…

She set her chopsticks down gently. "Saki-kun… do you have someone you like? You can tell Big Sister."

Sakurai paused. Then, quietly:"Not yet."

His feelings toward Fujiwara Chika, toward Hayasaka Ai—they weren't yet clear enough to be called "liking." Not in the way he defined it.

To Sakurai, love wasn't just emotion. It was responsibility. Risk. Danger.

Superpower "Anchor" Rule #2:Don't fall in love before mastering it completely.

Superpowers were dangerous, and Sakurai knew his especially so. He couldn't afford to treat love lightly.

A casual fling, without emotional strings? That he could handle. But Fujiwara and Hayasaka weren't like that.They were serious.

He wasn't ready.

If anything, Sakurai Saki was more cowardly than even Ai-chan. He was afraid to make the first move. Afraid to open a door he didn't know how to close.

In this so-called war of love confessions, he had no intention of joining the battlefield.

He was just… standing there.A flag in the center.Or more accurately—

A block of wood.

And a block of wood doesn't confess.

He was playing that role seriously. Very seriously.

"Good~" Mashiro exhaled, visibly relieved by his answer.

"If you ever do fall for someone, tell Big Sister, alright? I'll help you think it through."

Sakurai picked up a new dish and took a bite.

"I will. If that day comes, I'll tell you, Mashiro-nee."

As if remembering something, Minamoto Mashiro suddenly clapped her hands together.The crisp sound echoed through the room.

"Oh right! Saki-kun, Big Sister needs your help tomorrow."

"I can cancel my usual job. What is it?"

He didn't refuse outright. Some clients were more important than others.Especially Mashiro—her cancellation fees were three times the standard rate. Even the most difficult clients didn't complain when she handled things.

"A magazine shoot," Mashiro said. "Big Sister Yoko specifically requested you. The male model dropped out last minute, so you'll be filling in. It's in Shinjuku."

Sakurai pictured Yoko immediately: a glamorous woman with wine-red curls and a sharp gaze.

"I'll come by after school," he agreed.

Mashiro exhaled again, looking pleased."Good. I was worried I wouldn't find someone in time. And a girl cross-dressing just wouldn't have worked~"

"Oh, that's right, that's right!" Mashiro suddenly perked up.

"The female model you'll be paired with tomorrow is really pretty, Saki-kun. You can look forward to it~"

She gestured animatedly, eyes sparkling with mischief. Her energy was almost girlish—completely at odds with her mature appearance.

Watching her lively performance, Sakurai Saki chuckled softly."Since Mashiro-nee said so, I'll look forward to it~"

As long as it's not someone I know, he added silently.

By the time Sakurai left Minamoto Mashiro's high-rise apartment, it was already past eight.

The city lights shimmered like reflections on water. On his way home, he stopped by an optician to restock his contact lenses, then made a quick detour to the nearby convenience store.

Under the pale glow of the signboard, he fed coins into a vending machine and pressed the button for black coffee.

Clunk.A can dropped.

Sakurai picked it up, popped the tab open with a soft hiss, and took a slow sip. The bitterness was familiar—comforting, even.

The cherry blossoms near the store were still in bloom. As a breeze swept through the street, pink petals drifted lazily from the trees and landed in his hair.

"...Meow?"A quiet, involuntary sound escaped his lips.

He blinked.

It was barely audible. He had been practicing all day and could now "meow" internally—suppressing the vocal tic that had embarrassed him more than once.

Just now, with Minamoto Mashiro, he'd managed not to meow once.Progress.

Still, that soft meow had slipped out without warning. And someone had heard it.

A girl stepped out of the convenience store just in time to catch the tail end of it. She looked at Sakurai—at his unexpectedly pretty face under the cherry trees—and hesitated.

Then, she reached discreetly for her phone.

"Hello~"Sakurai turned toward her, giving her a radiant, almost dazzling smile.

The girl froze mid-motion, phone half-raised.

Realizing she'd been caught, she panicked, bowing deeply in apology. "Sorry! I didn't mean to—! I wasn't going to post it—!"

Sakurai shook his head, indicating it was fine. His smile didn't waver.

Relieved, the girl quickly fled down the street.

The spring wind picked up again, brushing against his skin and rustling the fallen petals.

It wasn't exactly warm.

Sakurai stared at the sky for a moment, then whispered to no one,"Let's go back."

With a practiced flick of his wrist, he tossed the empty coffee can behind him. It arced cleanly through the air—

Clang.—and landed perfectly in the trash bin.