After Momoka finished her very late breakfast, the two of them got ready and headed out for work.
As two Tokyo drifters with no stable jobs, both Ryo Jin and Momoka had to juggle multiple part-time gigs just to cover rent and survive.
Ryo still planned to attend school, so his schedule was already tight.
Momoka could have chosen to find a full-time position, but that would defeat her purpose.
What she truly wanted was to focus on her music, and for that she needed freedom—especially since she performed at live houses and on the streets almost every night.
That also meant her financial pressure was enormous. Living alone in Tokyo was hard.
"So seriously," Ryo said while restocking a shelf at the drugstore, "if you hadn't found me back then, what were you going to do about the rent, Momoka?"
Among all part-time jobs, working at a drugstore was one of the better gigs—warm in winter, cool in summer, no heavy lifting, and rarely busy.
The only downside was the pay: barely above Tokyo's minimum wage.
But for a woman nursing a hangover and hiding behind a mask, it was just about perfect.
Momoka's voice drifted lazily from behind the cashier counter.
"I told you already—thank you so much for saving me… My roommate suddenly ran off with her boyfriend right before Christmas and left me this giant apartment. Next month's rent doubled overnight. Totally bankrupt~! ( ?o ﹏ o? ) If I hadn't found someone to split the cost, I'd have been kicked out by now!"
She looked at him with puppy-like, teary eyes, so pitiful it almost melted his heart.
Almost.
He couldn't say that out loud, though—if he did, this shameless woman's tail would shoot straight into the clouds.
Back then, Ryo had just returned to Tokyo, looking for part-time work, when he happened to meet Momoka as a coworker.
She had no idea he already recognized her—or that he was secretly a fan of her music.
During a work conversation, she'd found out he was living alone and looking for a room.
Since he was only seventeen and never talked about his past, Momoka seemed to assume he was like her younger self—a runaway dropout trying to survive in the city.
"'It's okay, big sis Momoka understands your pain! Just move in with me~! (?＞?＜)☆'"
That's exactly how she'd said it—trying to sound like a kind older sister helping a struggling youth, when in reality, she was desperate and clinging to her pride.
But honestly, a woman living alone inviting a strange boy to move in was incredibly risky.
That just showed how dire her situation had been.
If Ryo hadn't agreed to share rent, she might've ended up dragging a random stranger off the street.
To prevent that worst-case scenario, Ryo had accepted with saint-like resolve—sacrificing himself to feed the eagle, as the saying went.
And that was how they ended up as roommates.
Now, as always, Momoka bowed toward him dramatically, trying to win him over with cuteness.
This woman had zero adult dignity—always the same act, every time.
But what could he do? He'd fallen for her first.
He always gave in to her like a doting father.
Working at a drugstore wasn't hard—just slow.
Since it was the break before the new school term, most of the customers were students.
Ryo had learned a lot from this job.
He'd had no idea there were dozens of different kinds of liquids girls used just on their faces. As a straight guy, it was an education in itself.
Even more shocking: apparently, you could buy IV drip kits and needles right off the shelf. Tokyo's overworked salarymen used them for "late-night recovery."
This society was terrifying. Even a retired Phantom Thief like him felt a weird kind of pressure.
But surprisingly, the store's best-selling section was the one labeled with four bold characters—"Family Planning Supplies."
"That'll be 1,600 yen. Would you like it bagged? …Got it, thank you very much."
Ryo absentmindedly placed a small, brightly colored box on the counter, watching as a high-school girl about his age slipped it into her bag.
By the way, her answer had been, "No bag—it's for immediate use."
According to some questionable magazine survey, one in three Tokyo high-school girls supposedly had "experience" in that area.
Ryo had never believed it.
That number was insane. No way that many, right?
…Until he started working here.
Even without keeping count, he'd noticed the pattern—the age distribution, the customers, the frequency.
There really were a lot of them. And it wasn't just couples—most of the buyers were girls.
Instead of marveling at how "active" today's youth were, Ryo felt something else entirely: outrage.
Dear boyfriends of these girls…
Can't you take some damn responsibility?! (｀ω´)
Sure, it might be embarrassing to walk into a store and buy these things.
But it's more embarrassing for the girl, right?!
She came in calmly, did what had to be done—can't you guys at least do your part?
Right then, Ryo made himself a silent promise.
When he found a girlfriend someday, he'd never let her go through that awkward moment alone. He'd handle it himself.
Also… this stuff was expensive. A single box cost several hundred yen.
The thought made him realize again just how important it was to make money.
He cleared his mind and went back to calculating prices with monk-like focus.
Ding-dong~
The automatic door chimed as another pair of customers entered the store that afternoon.
This time, Ryo glanced up and looked twice.
Both were girls. Both students.
And unlike most customers, they were wearing school uniforms.
On a holiday, that usually meant one of two things—either something too embarrassing to say, or more likely, they were heading to school.
The Yoshizawa sisters had taught him that rule: even on weekends or holidays, students had to wear uniforms when attending club practice.
So these two were probably honor students—or maybe athletes, like the twins.
Their brisk steps toward the sports supplies section confirmed his guess.
One of them—a striking blonde girl with twin tails and blue eyes—picked up a few bottles from the shelf and turned to her friend.
"Shiho, is this cooling spray enough? And what kind of bandages do you need? Disposable ones?"