"I haven't bought a camera yet—I'm still saving up."
Kitagawa Marin had always just used her phone for photos.
Any time she used a real camera, it was one borrowed from a senior coworker during part-time gigs.
"Do you have any recommendations, Kitahara-kun?"
Oh, now you're talking—Takeru's wide awake now.
"Are you planning to pursue photography professionally, or just for capturing daily life?"
Don't be fooled by his so-so skills—when it came to camera selection, Kitahara Takeru was the right person to ask.
That knowledge had been earned through trial, error, and many expensive mistakes.
"Just documenting life. I mainly want it to shoot photos at conventions. What do you think of Sony? It's a pretty well-known brand."
"Do you know how to edit?"
"Nope."
"If you're a total beginner, I wouldn't recommend the big-name brands. You'd be better off starting with a niche entry-level model. Personally, I recommend Hasselblad or Leica—they have great beginner options and are easy to learn."
Takeru delivered the advice with a perfectly straight face.
"Alright, I'll check the prices."
Kitagawa Marin was quick to act. She pulled out her phone on the spot and started looking up camera prices.
Hiss~
The moment she saw the numbers, Marin sucked in a sharp breath—contributing significantly to global warming.
"This, this, this... This is what counts as beginner-friendly?" she stammered.
"How many jobs would I have to work for this?!"
She bought it.
She really bought it.
You're kidding me—you actually fell for that?!
Takeru had to fight the urge to laugh.
"Marin-chan, he's messing with you," said Ōtani Shōta, noticing Takeru's grin had practically squinted his eyes shut.
"You tricked me!" Kitagawa Marin puffed out her cheeks and glared at Takeru, her expression equal parts annoyed and adorable.
"Just messing with you," he admitted sheepishly.
But now that he'd had his fun, he gave her a real recommendation.
"If you're a beginner, I'd still go with the Nikon D5000."
For someone not planning to go pro, Takeru didn't mind recommending an affordable camera. Most people used it for a couple days and then went right back to their phones anyway.
Kitagawa Marin narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Really?"
After just getting pranked, she wasn't about to believe him so easily.
"For real. Cross my heart. I'm not messing with you this time."
And he wasn't.
Still half-skeptical, Marin looked it up.
She'd give him one last chance. If the price looked off—
"Wait—it's that cheap?"
She blinked in surprise, staring at her screen.
She hadn't expected it to be that affordable.
Then she looked back at Takeru, doubtful. "Why is it so cheap? There's nothing wrong with it, right?"
People were like that.
Too expensive, and they couldn't afford it.
Too cheap, and they started to get suspicious.
"There's nothing wrong with it. Nikon's entry-level models tend to be cheaper than other brands, but they're a great value at that price. The only reason they don't sell as much is brand perception."
Takeru explained patiently.
One spoke with focused ease, the other listened with rapt attention. At some point, the two of them had tuned out everyone else in the room.
Oh, come on! Ōtani Shōta gritted his teeth as he glared at Takeru.
They'd just met, and Takeru even showed up late—how were they already chatting like that?
Now he just looked like some awkward third wheel.
Tanaka Kōta was equally bitter. Takeru, you absolute bastard.
He hadn't even taken his mask off and was already chatting up the cutest girl here. Once he did, what—throw a champagne orgy?
So this mixer was basically arranged just for him?
What were they—the pimps?
Ōtani and Tanaka were already twisted up with jealousy, faces practically green with envy. Meanwhile, the three girls—Takamiya Saki, Ōhashi Natsumi, and Watanabe Akari—were whispering in their private group chat.
Takamiya Saki:Are those two vibing or what?
Ōhashi Natsumi:You think they'll end up together?
Takamiya Saki:Honestly? Pretty likely.
Most people who came to mixers were single.
If two people clicked, getting together was only natural.
Heck, sometimes the night even ended with a hotel room booking. Totally depended on mutual interest.
Watanabe Akari:He's way too smooth. He's definitely used to tricking girls. Guy's gotta be a walking red flag, right?
Ōhashi Natsumi:Akari, why do you sound so salty ω?
Takamiya Saki:Wait—is this jealousy? Is someone mad their mixer date got stolen?
Originally, Marin hadn't even been part of the mixer.
They just happened to run into her on the way, fresh off a part-time shift, and she insisted on tagging along.
Normally, you're not supposed to bring uninvited guests to these things.
Unless they're cute girls. Then, all's forgiven.
Watanabe Akari:Me? Jealous???
Watanabe Akari:I don't even know what he looks like! What is there to be jealous of? For all we know, that face under the mask could be nightmare fuel!
Watanabe Akari:What kind of normal person wears a mask in a karaoke room, huh?
While Watanabe Akari vented her frustration via aggressive typing, Kitahara Takeru and Kitagawa Marin were still deep in their photography chat.
At that same moment, in a high-end residential district in Sakura City, Chiba Prefecture, a private home sat quiet and still.
Inside, Kasukigaoka Utaha wore a black knee-length nightdress and sat primly at her desk, fingers typing rhythmically across the keyboard.
Her dress had a built-in sash, barely the width of a palm, cinched tightly at her waist, accentuating her delicate figure and the curve of her chest.
With her wine-red eyes, ink-black hair soft as silk, and skin as pale as snow, Kasukigaoka Utaha looked like a blooming black rose—elegant, mysterious, and dangerously alluring.
But her mood was… clearly not good.
The way her right leg kept bouncing impatiently made that obvious.
"Tch."
Staring at the single sentence she'd spent hours typing, Utaha clicked her tongue in frustration.
Whether she was annoyed with her writing pace or something else, she snapped her laptop shut and stood, tugging the white headband off her head and flinging it onto the desk in a fit of irritation.
She threw herself onto the bed and shut her eyes.
Only to see Kitahara Takeru's face.
That face, which once had meant nothing more than an emotional stand-in for the person she truly wanted.
A vessel for fantasy, not someone she really cared about.
But somewhere along the way… that started to change.
Seeing him hurt now made her feel uncomfortable.
And that's why she'd been completely unproductive today.
Not even a minute passed before she sat up again, grabbed her phone, unlocked it, and opened Line to find Takeru's chat.
She typed.
Deleted.
Typed again.
Deleted again.
Typed… deleted…
And then—oops—her finger slipped.
She accidentally hit "Send."
One word: 「你」—You.
Line had a recall function now.
But Utaha just stared at that message for a long time, unmoving.
Then she set her phone aside as if she didn't care at all, grabbed a book, and lay on her stomach to read.
...Even as her eyes kept flicking toward the phone.
---
T/N: AHHH $10,000+ WHJATTTTT ahem clearl yvery adffordable