Chapter 56

Shiratori Kiyoya is Friend A.

Mio hadn't heard him admit it outright, but she was ninety-nine percent certain.

The logic clicked into place like a solved puzzle. Why was Shiratori Kiyoya so loaded? Why did Friend A's songs only ever go to Kitajo Shione? And why, after they broke up, had Friend A chosen to retire...?

Yet from the moment she stepped out of his car until she was lying on her bed, shoes kicked off and lights dimmed, the revelation barely stirred her. It felt like opening an opaque parcel you'd half expected to contain a watermelon, only to find a coconut instead—odd, anticlimactic, but hardly earth-shattering.

Maybe she was just too tired to care.

Questions still buzzed, but her mind felt like a browser with too many tabs open. Too lazy for the full nighttime routine, she peeled off her clothes in one motion, tossed them onto the tatami, and slipped under the thin blanket wearing only a sleep shirt. A minute later she was too warm; one long leg slid out, hooked the blanket aside, and fished the AC remote from under her pillow.

Beep.

Cool air swept the room. Still, when she closed her eyes, heat flared behind her ribs—restless, itchy. She padded to the bathroom, splashed water on her face, then opened her phone and hovered over Shione's chat window.

Is Shiratori Kiyoya Friend A?

Her thumb froze. Sending that line would feel like admitting Shione knew him better, and Mio's pride refused the concession. She'd simply met him first, that was all. In time, Mio would know Kiyoya more deeply than anyone.

What she really wanted to ask was why they had broken up. Deep down she suspected the answer: he'd been the one to end it. The look in Shione's eyes that day had been too raw to fake—unless she'd taken master-level acting classes.

Mio didn't want to believe it, because it hinted at her own possible future.

She switched to Reika's chat, stared at the blank input, and drifted off midsentence.

That night she dreamed Kiyoya had written a script just for her. She starred in it, burned brighter than Venus, became the nation's darling. Her father grumbled but secretly binge-watched every episode. The story of their romance turned into a hit drama. The sword-obsessed lunatic could only rage in impotent envy.

Then, at the altar, the lights snapped off. Shione appeared in a wedding gown, kicked Mio aside, and linked arms with Kiyoya.

"He never loved you. It was all in your head."

Mio jerked awake, sunlight slicing through the curtains. Her skin felt clammy; the dream had already blurred except for Shione's last sentence.

Dreams lie. If Mio truly outshone Venus, Kiyoya would never let her go. And when they married, she'd make Shione her maid of honor—payback for that nightmare.

She had to surpass her.

After a steadying breath, Mio checked her phone: nearly eight-thirty. She scrambled into the bathroom—she still had a second-tier training class.

Later, in the lecture hall, the difference was immediate. The instructor's words sank in; she felt the character settle into her bones like a second skin. The fog of confusion lifted; her pen flew across the notebook.

Nanase, sitting beside her, kept sneaking glances. Mio radiated energy—focused, almost electric.

When class ended, a cluster of classmates waved from the doorway, the usual invite for weekend fun. Nanase began packing up. "We can swap notes tomorrow if you're busy—"

"Wait," Mio said, catching her arm. She walked to the group, spoke briefly, and the students left with disappointed shrugs. Nanase caught fragments: "You're busier than we are... Never saw you study like this before..."

Mio bowed at forty-five degrees, then returned.

"Ready, Nanase."

Nanase hesitated. "You sure you're okay?"

Mio's smile was bright enough to light the hallway. "If you want something, you have to give something up. Trying to have it all is just greedy."