"Hey, you've really become annoying now."
Hashimoto Arina didn't hold back at all. She planted her hands on her hips, pouted, and said to Kimurahama, "You were rejected by me. Ugh, you can't even show a little pain like yelling—I can't even compare to him!"
"Why show pain?" Kimurahama replied with a smile. "From the start, I only had one purpose: to make your life happy."
"Even if you say that…" Arina said, her expression proud, "I still won't regret it."
"Hmph." Kimurahama put a finger to his lips, his gaze fixed on Arina. "That boy has become the light that brightens your dark world. Please treasure him. After all, life is short—you don't often get the chance to meet someone you can love for a lifetime."
"Hey, you really are irritating," she said with a faint pout, a subtle discomfort she tried to hide. Then she bowed deeply. "Thank you."
"Maybe I can prolong his life…" Kimurahama murmured suddenly.
Before he could finish, a cascade of fireworks erupted in the sky, tearing through the night and blooming into brilliant flowers.
Arina's attention immediately went to the sky, the glow of the fireworks reflecting on her cheeks. But the beauty of the fireworks lasted only for a fleeting moment.
When the night returned to darkness, she turned to Kimurahama. "What did you just say?"
He averted his gaze from the sky, shaking his head. "Fireworks are beautiful because they are short-lived."
Arina shook her head at his poetic remark, then smiled. "I have to go. If the child waits too long, he'll start imagining things wildly."
Kimurahama smiled quietly, watching her walk away.
When Arina arrived where she had left Shirakawa Natsu, she saw him holding his phone above his head, pretending he might drop it but clearly unable to let go.
"Xia, what are you doing?" she asked, walking up and nudging his shoulder.
"Um… Miss Youcai." Shirakawa turned, embarrassed, and slipped the phone into his pocket.
He was in a sour mood. Just now, after overhearing Arina's confession to Kimurahama, he had thought his favorability rating had hit 100%.
Happily, he had pulled out his phone—but when he saw the 3D number floating next to Arina's heart, it had dropped from ninety-nine to ninety-one. He nearly lost his breath—worse than seeing a six-digit decimal error.
He took a few deep breaths to calm down, forcing a smile. "Shall we continue exploring the festival?"
Arina, thinking about her earlier confession to Kimurahawa, suddenly blushed and muttered, "You're really annoying." She walked ahead angrily but kept peeking at him from the corner of her eyes.
Kimurahama had confessed under that tree, and she had refused. For her, it was also a farewell to the past.
She had always regarded Shirakawa as a younger brother, her affection platonic. But after Kimurahama's confession, her feelings for Shirakawa had shifted. She now looked at him as a man, not just as a brother.
Her cheeks flushed uncontrollably.
When a woman sees a man in this way, her mind instantly shifts to the dynamics between men and women—and she couldn't stop thinking about the skinny boy she had seen as her brother just yesterday.
Her face felt like it might melt. A few steps forward, she glanced out of the corner of her eyes and noticed that Shirakawa hadn't followed. She kicked her clogs sharply. "Don't follow!"
"?" Shirakawa tilted his head, utterly confused. One moment she was a sister, and the next… cute? What had happened?
The two walked together through the festival, the atmosphere charged with an unspoken tension.
Suddenly, Shirakawa felt a strange touch on his thigh. Looking down, he saw Arina's fingers. She had lowered her hand slightly, pointing a finger under the hem of his trousers.
Taken aback, he tentatively stretched his own finger to meet hers, their fingers hooking together.
"Sister Youcai," he said softly.
"Don't talk," she whispered, not daring to meet his eyes.
They continued walking, fingers entwined.
"The first time I saw you, I was taking medicine for depression. My world was gray," Arina said suddenly, her voice quiet, eyes cast to the ground. "I envied you. You know the future can't be changed, yet you work hard every day, and every day is meaningful."
"I'm envious of you too, Sister Youcai," Shirakawa said, patting his head. "Every day, you're like a little sun."
"No." Arina shook her head. "I wanted to become a doctor because my father was one. I wanted to save lives. Those ideals were his, and I inherited his rationality. As a child, I didn't want to disappoint anyone, so I acted according to expectations.
"But you… even though your painting gestures are sometimes clumsy at first, they're truly yours. That's what's amazing. I want to be like that too."
Shirakawa rubbed the back of his head, motivation coming not from lofty ideals, but simply to let the world experience the thrill of his creations.
"I thought of you as my little brother," Arina whispered, covering her face. "After the hot spring trip, I…"
"What's wrong, Sister Youcai?" Shirakawa asked, curious. He had no idea what had happened after the hot spring.
"I…" Arina blushed deeply. After Yazhikui's earlier theory—how could you know if you were a pervert if you didn't try?—she had attempted to generate electricity using Shirakawa at home. Even now, she couldn't admit it outright.
Instead, she shifted to a high-EQ response. "I try to treat Xia as someone I could love."
"Oh… that's it," Shirakawa said, a little disappointed.
"I've failed too much," Arina muttered, lowering her head. "Whether as an attending doctor, a sister, or an adult… I…"
Before she could finish, Shirakawa pulled her into his arms.
Arina gasped softly as she was embraced, passersby glancing their way.
"Don't worry about anyone else," Shirakawa whispered into her ear, leaning close to her fair neck exposed by her kimono. "The only thing that matters is you, Sister Youcai. Your choice. I love you."
Arina struggled shyly, shrinking slightly in his arms, her cheeks flaming. Yet to outsiders, it looked like a brotherly hug—nothing unusual.
Behind the crowd, Yazhikui watched, holding a burlap bag in one hand and her phone in the other. She had planned to call Shirakawa, but now it was unnecessary. Somehow, she instinctively knew she could always find him in a crowd. She tucked her phone into her pocket and rubbed her head, feeling slightly useless.
"Miss Yazhikui, long time no see," a soft voice said beside her.
Yazhikui turned to see Kimurahama holding a small ceremonial fan, smiling. "Why are you standing here with a bag?"
"Long time no see," Yazhikui replied, hiding the sackcloth behind her back. "This festival creates a lot of waste. I'm volunteering to keep the environment clean."
"I see. Not many kindhearted people like you exist anymore," he smiled.
Yazhikui was startled by his smile, sensing an overwhelming aura. She pointed discreetly at the couple. "Your ex-girlfriend is hugging another man."
Kimurahama looked calmly at them and smiled. "It's fine. He's left already—and leaving brought him relief."
"Him?" Yazhikui glanced at Shirakawa cradling Arina and felt at ease. Clearly, this calm professor of literature was internally panicking despite his composed exterior, because his girlfriend was in another man's arms.
Not interested in discussing a man so unstable, Yazhikui waved her hand and left.
Kimurahama introduced himself with a smile. "Call me Zao, my new name."
Yazhikui shrugged and walked away. He truly was a strange man; after losing his girlfriend, his energy had gone haywire.
Arina stepped out of Shirakawa's arms. "You little brat, don't get too full of yourself."
"Then… Sister Youcai likes me?" Shirakawa asked, grinning.
"No." Arina shook her head, then pinched her thumb and forefinger together. "At most… this little bit. No more."
Shirakawa pulled out his phone. After her earlier confession, her affection rating had jumped from ninety-one to ninety-six—faster than before.
"The ancients were right," he muttered. "The more beautiful the woman, the more she deceives others."
"Hmph, women."
"The fireworks are about to start!" Arina tugged her yukata and dashed toward the crowd. "Xia, hurry! I know the perfect spot to watch them."
"Yeah." Shirakawa followed, smiling.
He could feel her change clearly—no longer just seeing him as a younger brother, but now as a man. Combined with the drop in favorability on the Huangmao app, Shirakawa began to understand its mechanism.
He realized his initial mistake: love doesn't simply equal favorability.
In the "hairstyle exchange" column, there were two directions—one increased coercive behavior success. Family affection counted toward the original ninety-nine, but it didn't register as perversion.
Now, at ninety-six, Arina's feelings for him had shifted—from familial love to genuine romantic interest.
With this insight into the Huangmao app, Shirakawa felt he was gradually opening the door to a whole new world.