I could've easily morphed into my avatar this whole weekend, hacking away at monsters, completely tuning out the real world. But, nope, not this time. My head's swarming with images of Maki and visions of the cultural fest buzzing over at Miyamoto High, a mere fifteen-minute bike ride from my pad.
"Ah—!"
Tossing my console aside, I snatch up my phone to scroll through Maki's latest social media saga. Even though we've only been hanging out for a hot minute, I've got her routine down pat. She's always quick to splash her life online—where she's at, what she's up to, who she's with—like right after our dates, her feed pops with fresh pics or clips.
But today? Radio silence. Her last post is still from yesterday—a bunch of snaps from her mom's birthday bash.
Hmm… that's odd. Super odd. She usually slaps up at least one pic of her getting all dolled up—tons of makeup, hair getting all twisted into fancy styles—like clockwork whenever she's got a modelling gig.
Don't tell me her whole schedule got axed.
Nah, that doesn't sit right. Something in my gut's screaming that she's keeping something under wraps from me.
So, what am I waiting for? Time to play detective—ha-ha!
You see, Miyamoto High is one of the top schools in Shinagawa City, and it's on my radar for next year. Not just 'cause it's a stone's throw from my place, but they've got a killer basketball team I wanna join. But today, as I step onto their grounds, it's not about scoping out the school or eyeing the hoops. Nope, I'm not here to check out the colourful booths buzzing with festival energy.
I'm on a mission. In this sea of faces, I'm hunting for one thing: Maki's signature long, wavy chestnut hair. But spotting her in this madhouse? It's like finding a needle in a haystack.
"Nii-san, look over there! Those takoyaki look delicious," Ayaka chirps, her eyes sparkling with a childlike excitement. "Oh, and those strawberry-choco, too. Let's try them all!"
"Nuh-uh, nope." I cut her off quickly.
"Eh…?" And yeah, her face falls a touch, a confused frown knitting her brows.
Sorry, kid, but this ain't a food tour. I dragged you here with a purpose, one I conveniently left out when I asked you to tag along. We're on a mission—a serious one, something way over your head.
"Oh, Hasegawa-kun."
That voice yanks me out of my thoughts, and suddenly, I'm face-to-face with a group of four unfamiliar girls. Great, just the kind of distraction I don't need right now. But hey, gotta keep up appearances. So, I slap on my best public-smile, the kind that makes me look like everyone's favourite guy, and greet them like I'm some kind of friendly pop idol.
"You're here with your sister?"
Hold up… maybe I can fish out a bit about Maki from these folks. It's harmless enough, right?
So, keeping my grin dialled up, I shoot back, "Yeah. Was meant to be here with Maki, but she's all caught up in her modelling gigs."
"Eh?" Their eyebrows shoot up in unison.
Hm? What's with that look? That synchronized shock followed by quick glances at each other, brows furrowing in curiosity—yeah, feels like I'm about to catch a break here.
"What's up? Something wrong?" I ask, my voice dripping with casual friendliness, keeping the act polished.
"Ah, no… it's just…" One of them trails off.
Then, another pipes up, "We just saw Miura-san with some girls."
Ha-ha, bingo! Just like I thought—this was going to be a cakewalk. It's like playing a game with cheat codes. Sure, it's not as thrilling, but hey, it sure speeds things up.
"Eh, is that so? Maybe she finished up early then. Did I miss a text or something…?" I say, whipping out my phone and pretending to scroll through my messages. "Oh, right… she did text me about that. Guess I was too caught up in my game to notice. Ha-ha!"
The girls chuckle along with my staged forgetfulness, clueless that they're just pawns in my little investigation. But this isn't where it ends… Now, I've gotta dig deeper, find out why Maki lied and what exactly she's trying to hide.
So, I glance over at Ayaka to my left and flash her a grin. "Why don't we go look for Maki? I haven't properly introduced you two yet."
"Eh? But why—?"
Before she can even finish her sentence, I've already turned away, my focus snapping back to the group of girls who've swallowed my act hook, line, and sinker. They're all buzzing with excitement, probably thinking they'll be the talk of the town after chatting up yours truly, heh.
"Do you know where she might be?" I ask, my smile masking the gears turning behind it.
"We saw her on the first floor," one of the girls chimes in.
Then, totally clueless about my intention, another adds, "I heard she wants to check out an art gallery on the third floor."