The commotion from the bathroom didn't go unnoticed. Granny Kobayashi appeared at the doorway, hands clasped behind her back in that classic elderly pose, surveying the scene with knowing eyes. Toshiro-san was currently reintroducing her breakfast to the toilet bowl in spectacular fashion.
"Goodness gracious." Granny Kobayashi sighed deeply. "No matter how young and able to drink you think you are, you still need to exercise moderation... This looks terribly uncomfortable. I'll go make some hangover soup in a bit."
"Ugh... thank you... Kobayashi... Ba-san... urp... UGH!"
Kuroha Akira continued patting Toshiro-san's back, though his mouth apparently couldn't resist commenting.
"Can the hangover soup you make, old woman, even be considered drinkable?"
Granny Kobayashi's response was immediate and physical—a swift kick that sent him stumbling away from the bathroom door. She took over the caretaking duties with practiced efficiency.
"Shut your mouth, you brat! Go wash up already!" She waved him off irritably. "Speaking of which, aren't you supposed to be going for a run today? It's almost seven, you know."
"It's gotten that late already...?"
The lengthy conversation with Toshiro-san had eaten up the morning hours without him noticing. Time really did fly when you were discussing existential transmigration theories and past-life tragedies.
Kuroha Akira grimaced. He didn't want to be late two days in a row—that would definitely draw unwanted attention. So today, his half-year streak of morning runs would have to be broken.
On the bright side, although he'd miss seeing Tomita Haruka's impressive figure, Toshiro-san had provided him with much more intimate contact. His energy reserves were already overflowing.
That experience had been supremely comfortable. He could honestly get used to sleeping with that kind of human body pillow every night...
No. He couldn't betray his core beliefs. He was a staunch thigh fetishist! He had standards! Principles!
With Granny Kobayashi handling Toshiro-san, Kuroha Akira headed to the washroom to clean up. While brushing his teeth, he noticed something odd on the sink counter.
An extra set of his toiletries.
Huh? That was strange. Did cups and toothbrushes spontaneously replicate overnight?
Obviously not. This had to be Shinomiya's new cup and toothbrush.
But she'd deliberately bought the exact same style... Wasn't she worried about mixing them up?
Kuroha Akira squinted at the two nearly identical sets. Even he had trouble distinguishing them without close inspection. Fortunately, he could tell new from old by the degree of bristle splaying. The one on the left had more wear—that must be his.
He picked up his toothbrush and was squeezing toothpaste onto it when Shinomiya shuffled into the washroom, clearly just awakened.
Her eyes were still slightly puffy with sleep, her hair adorably mussed. She glanced at the toothbrush in Kuroha Akira's hand, then walked over to stand beside him. Without a word, she picked up her own toothbrush and extended it toward him.
The meaning was clear: squeeze toothpaste for me.
Kuroha Akira complied, applying a reasonable amount to her brush.
Then Shinomiya promptly shoved that toothbrush into Kuroha Akira's mouth.
While simultaneously snatching the toothbrush from his hand.
She stuck his toothbrush—now her toothbrush—into her own mouth and began brushing, completely unbothered.
"Good morning, Akira-kun." She spoke around the toothbrush, somehow making it intelligible. "You didn't come back to sleep last night, did you?"
"..."
Kuroha Akira wasn't dense. He could tell Shinomiya seemed... a little angry.
But why? What had he done wrong?
He was genuinely bewildered. Could she have found out he'd spent the night in Toshiro-san's room? That seemed impossible—she'd been asleep when he carried Toshiro upstairs, and he hadn't made any noise in Toshiro-san's room.
Maybe she was upset about waking up alone this morning? He really couldn't figure it out.
The actual reason for Shinomiya's irritation was simpler and more complicated simultaneously.
She'd waited for Kuroha Akira to return to their room all night.
He never came.
Somewhere in her drowsy state, she'd entertained the thought that maybe—just maybe—he'd sleep in her bed after returning. They'd share a space. Back to back. Like they had before.
She knew logically that he wouldn't make any moves on her. That wasn't the point. The point was the feeling—that warm, secure sensation of another person's presence nearby. Sharing a pillow. Sharing a blanket. It had felt wonderful, and she'd found herself... looking forward to it.
Then she'd felt slightly ashamed for anticipating such things. What kind of girl hoped for that? Her thoughts had been a tangled mess.
When she woke up this morning, Kuroha Akira was still absent.
Her first thought was that he'd slept on the living room sofa for her sake. That was considerate—very Akira-kun. She appreciated his thoughtfulness.
But simultaneously, disappointment crashed over her like a wave. It was the feeling of expecting your father to come home with a birthday cake, only to see him arrive empty-handed. That hollow sense of unmet expectations.
He didn't need to be that considerate. They were already best friends for life, weren't they? Didn't that mean something?
On top of all this, Shinomiya naturally suffered from low blood pressure—mornings were always difficult for her. The combination of sleep inertia and emotional letdown had left her in a foul mood.
"Oh, when I went downstairs to put away my computer last night, I found Toshiro-san completely drunk." Kuroha Akira explained, still trying to piece together why she was upset. "So I helped her back to her room..."
"And then?" Shinomiya's toothbrush paused mid-stroke. "Akira-kun, you didn't sleep in Toshiro-san's room, did you?"
"Uh..."
Kuroha Akira desperately wanted to deny it. He really did. But he didn't possess S-rank Soul Performance abilities—he couldn't maintain a perfect poker face under pressure. His expression betrayed him instantly.
Shinomiya saw that awkward, guilty look and felt her mood plummet further.
She grabbed his cup—their cup now, apparently—filled it with water, and gargled aggressively. The sound was loud, pointed, deliberate. She wiped her mouth with her arm in a gesture that was decidedly unladylike.
Then she turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face repeatedly. Partly to wake up fully. Mostly to cool down the inexplicable anger burning in her chest.
She'd heard Tashiro Kurenai vomiting earlier. She knew what had happened. She was willing to believe—truly wanted to believe—that Kuroha Akira had only stayed in Toshiro-san's room to take care of her and hadn't done anything inappropriate.
She understood she was the newcomer here. Akira-kun and Toshiro-san had known each other longer. It was perfectly natural for them to have a closer relationship.
But understanding something logically didn't stop the uncomfortable feeling in her chest.
Was this jealousy?
Did she even have the right to be jealous?
A mother could be jealous—that made sense, the object of jealousy being the father. But she and Akira-kun were just friends. Friends didn't get jealous like this. Did they?
"Whew!"
Shinomiya exhaled forcefully, trying to expel both her worries and the pent-up frustration from her heart.
She shouldn't dwell on trivial things like this. What she needed to do was focus on voice acting practice. Debut early. Earn lots of money. Then Akira-kun would naturally pay more attention to her!
Kuroha Akira had been standing there the whole time, brushing his teeth in awkward stops and starts, unsure what to do. When she finished washing her face, he tentatively handed her a towel.
"Thank you..." She accepted it, then looked at him with a more composed expression. "So, Akira-kun, what's the plan for today?"
She seemed to have sorted out her feelings.
Probably just morning grumpiness, Kuroha Akira decided. Low blood pressure was rough.
"How's your foot?" he asked.
"Much better now. It's fine."
"Then you can go for a run by yourself later. Just follow the same route as yesterday."
"Akira-kun isn't coming with me?"
"I'm a bit short on time today." He shook his head regretfully. "If I go for a run, I'll definitely be late. Plus I'm pretty tired after staying up—didn't get to sleep until after three."
Shinomiya's lingering irritation melted away by more than half, replaced by concern.
Akira-kun was working so hard... She couldn't afford to fall behind!
"Before school, I'll write you a program list."
She nodded firmly.
"You can watch the animations broadcast on TV according to the list, and record all of them too. They'll serve as practice material."
"Okay. I understand."
"And this time, focus on watching for enjoyment primarily." Akira continued, slipping into "dedicated voice trainier" mode. "But also try to form your own judgments about preferences—which animation types you like, which you don't like, and which you can't get into at all. Just like you did with those notes yesterday, write everything down. Including your thoughts, if possible."
"I know."
Kuroha Akira paused, then added, "Speaking of which, those notes were really well-written. I could tell you put a lot of effort into them."
Shinomiya lowered her head, feigning a slightly shy expression.
In truth, she'd already been awake when he found those notes. She'd been pretending to sleep, carefully guiding the situation to hear exactly this kind of praise from him.
"Your voice acting practice has also made great progress." He continued, unaware of her internal satisfaction. "You're doing really well. Keep it up."
"...Mm!"
At that single compliment, Shinomiya's mood did a complete 180. All the morning frustration, the jealousy, the disappointment—washed away by a few kind words.
If Kuroha Akira could peer into her heart at that moment, he would surely complain internally: What an easy woman to deal with.
But what was the cost of being "easy to deal with"?
Kuroha Akira remained blissfully unaware of the answer to that question. For now.