“I…”

Any ordinary girl hearing Kotomi Izumi’s words would have lost her composure—and Seiko Kirigiri was no exception. The blush that had just faded from her cheeks came flooding back, even deeper this time. She couldn’t help feeling surprised. How had she never noticed at school that Kotomi could be so… flirtatious?

Kotomi’s gaze shifted to the cake box on the coffee table. The logo printed on the top looked familiar—Aimi had once bought her a mango mille-feuille from that same shop.

That shop was famous for its sweetness—rich and satisfying, but also easy to grow tired of after a few bites. The last time Aimi had bought her a mango mille-feuille from there, Kotomi had managed six slices before she couldn’t eat another bite.

Maybe it was because mille-feuille cakes were mostly cream.

“This cake—you bought it for Naegi-senpai, didn’t you? Come to think of it, she really does seem to like fruit cakes. Back when we were in Kyoto, every time we had breakfast at the hotel buffet, after eating her fill, she’d always go back for another plate of those bite-sized fruit cakes.”

Seiko glanced at the cake box on the table. Inside was an apple cake—Hibiki Naegi’s favorite. When Seiko found out this bakery sold them, she’d made a special stop after school today just to buy one for her sister.

She had imagined the two of them sitting together, chatting about their day at school while sharing the cake. But instead, when she brought it home, Hibiki hadn’t even opened the box—her attention was fixed entirely on her phone, waiting for a message from the person she was going to meet.

Seiko’s eyes darkened slightly. Then, she opened the cake box, picked up the small plastic knife that came with it, and began slicing the apple cake. “I heard this shop’s apple cake is really good, so I bought one today. Kotomi, let’s eat it together. It’s not very big—let’s just finish the whole thing. Cakes like this taste best when eaten all at once. If you leave it too long, the flavor and the cream’s aroma fade.”

“Eh? Eat it all? You’re not leaving any for Naegi-senpai?”

Seiko hesitated for a brief moment before smiling faintly and shaking her head. “My sister does love fruit cakes—but there’s one kind she really, really doesn’t like. And that’s apple cake.”

She handed Kotomi a plate with a neatly cut slice, placing a small fork beside it.

“I see, then I won’t hold back,” Kotomi said, smiling knowingly. She hadn’t realized that Naegi disliked apple cake—she had always assumed that Hibiki loved any kind of fruit cake, no matter what fruit was on top.

Kotomi took the plate and began to eat slowly, savoring each bite. Even though she’d have dinner later at home, she wasn’t worried about losing her appetite. A few bites of apple cake wouldn’t affect her in the slightest—she could probably eat the whole thing and still be ready for a full meal afterward.

“Please, enjoy,” Seiko said softly with a smile.

Together, the two of them finished the apple cake—every last crumb of what had once been Hibiki’s favorite dessert.

…

At the station—

Sitting on a bench, Hibiki Naegi let out a small sigh as she thought back to her behavior earlier that evening.

“I should’ve just explained everything to Seiko properly. But… the moment I thought about mentioning Mr. Kanagawa, I suddenly felt guilty, like I’d done something wrong. Before I knew it, I ended up lying to her. Even though today, I’m only meeting Ms. Kanagawa because she came to Chiba.”

There were still several days left before Eiren Kanagawa’s student’s private art exhibition would be held, but she hadn’t wanted to wait until then to see Hibiki. So she had asked to meet today—so eager that she had completely forgotten it wasn’t even Friday yet.

The October wind was growing colder as the month neared its end.

When November arrived, it would probably be winter for real.

Hibiki wondered absently—Would it snow this year?

In winters past, whenever it snowed, Hibiki Naegi and Seiko Kirigiri would play together carefree in the small courtyard of their home—building snowmen, throwing snowballs, their laughter echoing through the chilly air. Hibiki would even think about painting decorations onto their snowmen with watercolor, just for fun.

The joy and laughter from those snowy days seemed to linger faintly in her ears even now.

Maybe she was just overthinking things, but Hibiki had a strange feeling—that this year, they might not be able to play together in the snow like before, happy and without worry.

As for why, she had a sense of what the answer might be—but she didn’t want to admit it.

It’s awful… she thought. After I promised we’d never lie to each other, I went and broke that promise. I lied to Seiko right to her face.

“…Hm?”

Just then, it felt as though the color of the pavement near the station—something that had never changed—had suddenly been painted over with a new hue. Hibiki blinked in confusion.

Someone was walking straight toward her—no hesitation in their steps, only a sense of quiet delight. It was as if that person’s destination had always been her, from the very beginning.

Before Hibiki could even lift her head, a pair of fair, slender hands reached out naturally and took hold of hers. Startled, Hibiki looked up—and the confusion on her face immediately disappeared.

“If you sit here frowning at the station like that, you’re lucky if a police officer comes up to check on you. If you’re unlucky, some creep might take an interest instead.”

The woman’s voice was older than Hibiki’s—soft, warm, and enveloping, like a gentle breeze wrapping around her. The touch of her fingers was refined and smooth—the kind that instantly made one think, These are hands cared for with expensive hand cream.

Because of the weather, her hands were slightly cool to the touch.

“Professor Kanagawa…”

“Good evening! I’m so happy you came to see me! Wow—you look gorgeous tonight! Did you get all dressed up just for me?”

Eiren Kanagawa’s voice was full of delight—so much so that nearby passersby couldn’t help but turn to look.

“I just tried putting on a little makeup,” Hibiki said, nodding shyly. “I’m not really used to it yet.”

“You’ll get used to it after a few tries~ The makeup style I taught you suits you perfectly! Oh, and that lipstick shade… yes, that’s the one I picked out for you, isn’t it? I told you those cosmetics would look great on you!” Eiren smiled brightly, squeezing Hibiki’s hand as she spoke. “Next time when you’re painting, try putting on a little makeup first. It won’t take much time, and it’ll help set your mood. An artist’s emotions influence the beauty of their work. When you sit at your easel all prettied up, that little spark of confidence—it has a kind of magic to it. It brings out something new in your art, a grace that wasn’t there before.”

Her laughter was cheerful, lively—something she hadn’t allowed herself in a long time. Ever since becoming a university professor, her busy schedule had rarely left her room for such joy. She had never imagined that meeting and talking with a high school girl could bring her such genuine happiness.

Yes—

This was the person Hibiki had been waiting for at home. The one whose message she had been anxiously checking for. The reason she had put on makeup for the first time, lied to her sister, and left home after dark.

The person now standing before her, smiling and holding her hand—was none other than Eiren Kanagawa.

…

“Syd—Sydney?”

Eiren Kanagawa had brought Hibiki Naegi to a café. Well, to call it a café might be slightly misleading—it was more like a family restaurant styled with a classical European atmosphere that specialized in coffee but also served full meals.

From the wallpaper to the decor, everything exuded an old-fashioned charm. On each table sat an ornamental pipe—clearly not for use, but placed there as a piece of craftsmanship. Hanging on the walls were London-style trench coats, tall felt hats, deerstalkers, walking canes, and bowler hats—all arranged to perfection.

For someone who studied art, Hibiki quickly recognized why the décor and these accessories looked so familiar.

This place had been designed to mimic Sherlock Holmes’ apartment! The pipe, the cane, the hats, and coats—all the classic symbols instantly associated with the great detective.

Before entering, Eiren had asked her, smiling brightly, what she thought of the café’s style.

Hibiki had immediately recognized the Holmes-inspired design, but what she couldn’t figure out was—why was the place called Sydney?

If she remembered correctly, Holmes’ residence was at 221B Baker Street, London. There was no connection at all to Sydney. It made no sense. She even began to doubt whether she’d identified the design correctly.

“Alright, question time,” Eiren said, tapping the table lightly as they waited for the server to arrive. Her tone was that of a teacher addressing a student. “Tell me your answer.”

“Hmm… the interior looks like Sherlock Holmes’ residence. But the name ‘Sydney’ doesn’t fit. When you think of Holmes, you think of foggy London, or the Reichenbach Falls where he fought Professor Moriarty. Did I think about it the wrong way?”

“Not wrong,” Eiren replied with a small grin. “It’s not a complete answer, but you’re on the right track. The owner did indeed base the design on 221B Baker Street.”

“Then why name it Sydney?”

“Hehe~ That’s where your imagination falls a little short. In art, technique isn’t everything. Imagination is equally—no, even more—important. Many of the great Romantic poets were also painters. Sadly, because they now only exist in history, we’ll never know whether they became poets first or painters first~”

“Painting by the book will help you build a strong foundation in high school, and yes, it’ll probably help you score well in your art exams. But if you want to walk this path for the long term—if you want to go further—you have to train your imagination constantly. Otherwise, you’ll stagnate.”

Eiren spoke with the ease of a seasoned instructor, her tone both serious and warm. As a professor in Kyoto University’s Department of Fine Arts, she was now sitting in a café, offering university-level insights to a high school girl—for free.

If her fellow professors ever found out, they would be utterly shocked. Not because they’d find it strange that she taught students outside of class, but because she was doing it without pay.

Private tutoring was a lucrative side job for college instructors—each session could bring in a considerable amount of money. But university professors were a different story altogether. Their positions were prestigious enough that even if someone offered the usual rates, they rarely accepted. Their salaries were already high enough that such side jobs held no appeal.

Unless, of course, the payment was exceptionally high.

And yet here was Professor Eiren Kanagawa of Kyoto University’s Fine Arts Department—personally teaching a high school girl, free of charge.

Thankfully, there were no acquaintances around. If anyone she knew saw this, they might rack their brains and still fail to understand why she was doing it.

Only Eiren herself knew the true reason behind her actions.

Hibiki thought hard, offering several possible guesses—but each time, Eiren simply smiled and shook her head.

“That was my last guess,” Hibiki Naegi sighed in defeat. “Even if someone held a knife to my throat, I still couldn’t come up with it. I can’t imagine why the owner would name this place ‘Sydney’ while designing it in the style of 221B Baker Street.”

She let out a small sigh, frowning in thought—completely unaware that, to Eiren Kanagawa, she looked utterly adorable that way.

Eiren watched her quietly, realizing that no matter what kind of expression Hibiki wore—whether serious, puzzled, or lost in thought—as long as she could have her to herself, the sight was always beautiful to behold.

After letting Hibiki think a while longer, Eiren finally smiled and revealed the answer.

“The real story is this—The owner of this café is a huge opera fan. When she found out that her favorite opera would be performed at the Sydney Opera House, she immediately booked a flight to Australia. But because she didn’t check the showtime carefully, she ended up arriving two hours early. The Opera House was far from her hotel, so she couldn’t go back and forth in time. To pass the time, she took out a book she’d brought with her and started reading it on a bench outside the Opera House.”

“How does that connect to the interior design…? Wait—don’t tell me—the book she was reading outside the Sydney Opera House was The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes?!”

“Bingo~” Eiren said cheerfully. “To be exact, it was The Sign of Four.”

“So she named the café after the place where she watched her favorite opera—Sydney—and modeled the interior after 221B Baker Street? Wow, that’s such a roundabout story… and yet, the answer’s so simple.”

“Behind complexity lies the most honest simplicity,” Eiren said meaningfully.

“Every new school year, when I meet my incoming students, I tell them that exact phrase. It’s also one of the final exam essay topics. They’re asked to interpret it however they like—no word limit. They can write ten thousand words if they want, or just a hundred if they think that’s enough. No matter how they answer, they’ll still earn some credit—the minimum is two points.”

“Professor Kanagawa must be really close with her students,” Hibiki said with a small smile.

“That’s one of the things I’m most proud of,” Eiren replied with a gentle laugh. “Even years later, some of my former students still invite me to their weddings—or to their children’s first-month celebrations. If they’re nearby, I always go, bringing a small gift. If they live far away, I send something instead. It’s my way of saying I still remember them.”

Her tone carried a hint of pride—but also something else, something unspoken, as if she were saying to Hibiki: Well? Wouldn’t you like to become my student too? If you do, you’d better work hard.

—

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