Chapter 697: Kotomi, I Want to Play the Piano Again

While Haruno was blatantly slacking off, Yukino was complaining about her sister being annoying. At that moment, the attendant lady brought the iced green tea that Kotomi Izumi had ordered.

“Little sister, here’s your iced green tea.”

“Ah, thank you, miss~”

Kotomi Izumi smiled sweetly as she accepted the drink from the attendant. Whether by accident or on purpose, her slender fingers brushed lightly against the attendant’s delicate hand. Truth be told, more than her hand, Kotomi would have preferred to touch those beautiful stocking-clad legs of hers.

However, since Yukino and Yui were both present, Kotomi was self-aware enough to keep that little thought to herself.

Yukino Yukinoshita glanced once at Kotomi and the attendant. She didn’t say a word, though her expression darkened slightly before quickly returning to normal.

Yukino Yukinoshita: [Then why don’t you just let that so-called “treasure author,” Izumi Ki, take you flying. Don’t bother me.]

Haruno Yukinoshita: [What’s wrong? Jealous I’m interrupting your alone time with Kotomi? You’re right though—in this trip of yours with Kotomi and Yui, you finally got a chance to be alone with Kotomi for a bit. If I, as your big sister, were to bother you again, it’d make me seem inconsiderate. Alright then, I won’t disturb your precious time with Kotomi anymore. Enjoy your trip!]

[Good luck!]

Good luck? Yukino frowned slightly, not understanding what Haruno meant at first. A few seconds later, realization struck—and her expression turned cold. So that’s what Haruno meant by “good luck.” She instantly wanted to fire back a response.

Despite her cool personality, Yukino was no slouch when it came to verbal sparring. In fact, her sharp tongue was second to none.

Ever since Kotomi Izumi had witnessed Yukino’s biting words a few times, she had upgraded Yukino’s nickname in her heart from “Ice Queen” to “The Antisocial, Sharp-Tongued Ice Queen.”

But just before Yukino could start typing her retort, she hesitated. After finally ending that bothersome exchange with her sister, sending another message would only invite Haruno to start pestering her again.

After a moment’s thought, Yukino decided to ignore her. When dealing with an annoying sister, sometimes silence was the best weapon.

Putting her phone down, Yukino glanced beside her. The attendant had already left, and Kotomi Izumi was sitting next to her, sipping her iced green tea while waiting for Yukino to speak.

Kotomi’s sitting right next to me… Yukino’s cheeks warmed slightly. Earlier, when she saw Kotomi sitting beside Yui, she had felt a twinge of jealousy. Now that Kotomi was beside her, that feeling had faded a little.

Only a little, though—because as soon as she remembered that once they finished talking, Kotomi would return to sit beside Yui again, the sour ache in her chest grew even stronger.

For a moment, Yukino even thought about staying silent forever. Maybe that way, Kotomi would stay by her side the whole time…

Yukino couldn’t help letting out a bitter smile at her own childish thought. How ridiculous. As if that would actually work.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Yukino said at last. “I was just replying to my annoying sister. When it comes to her, the best strategy is to keep it short—one message that says everything. If I reply too much, she just gets more and more irritating. Every time I see her message notification pop up, I mute the LINE alert first, so I don’t have to hear the endless ding-ding that follows.”

After setting down her phone, Yukino didn’t hesitate to complain openly about her sister, Haruno Yukinoshita.

Meanwhile, back in Tokyo, Haruno Yukinoshita suddenly sneezed. Rubbing her elegant nose, she smiled with amused affection.

“Could it be that my tsundere little sister—who keeps saying how annoying I am—has just boarded the train to Kyoto and is already thinking, ’It would’ve been nice if my sister came along too’?”

The moment she said it, Haruno shivered a little, shoulders drawing in as she chuckled to herself.

“Ugh, that thought was so sweet it gave me goosebumps.”

“Even I felt embarrassed hearing myself say that just now. My foolish little sister would never think that way. She’s probably just sitting there right now, watching Kotomi and Yui laugh together, feeling all sour inside—but because she’s so stubborn and prideful, she’d rather suffer than admit it. Instead of just blurting out, ’Kotomi, I want to make you mine!’ she’s pretending to read a book or look at the scenery while secretly stewing in jealousy.”

Yukino thinks Haruno is annoying—for a reason.

…

Shinkansen.

After listening to Yukino Yukinoshita’s rant about Haruno, Kotomi Izumi couldn’t help nodding in agreement. Every word Yukino said hit the mark perfectly—truly worthy of the title “The Antisocial, Sharp-Tongued Ice Queen.”

Of course, Kotomi didn’t let any of that show on her face. After all, Yukino still didn’t know that her sister’s only contracted author, “Izumi Ki,” was actually the girl sitting right beside her—Kotomi Izumi herself.

Kotomi mentally jotted down several of Yukino’s best lines about Haruno, planning to reuse and slightly modify them in the future—just so she could tease Haruno with her own words one day.

There had been many times Kotomi wanted to fire back at Haruno, but whenever she tried, she was effortlessly “counter-killed” by the devilish older sister herself.

After Yukino finished venting, she took a moment to calm herself. Whenever she talked to her sister, things were fine at first—but once Haruno started being annoying, Yukino’s mood would instantly ignite like a small, angry flame. If she had a bucket of water nearby, she’d probably dump it right over Haruno’s head without hesitation!

“Sorry,” Yukino said, exhaling softly. “I was actually planning to talk to you about something else, but after you sat down, I ended up spending a few minutes complaining about my sister instead. I must’ve wasted your time. You probably want to go back and sit with Yui soon, right?”

A faint trace of bitterness lingered at the corner of Yukino’s lips. As she spoke the last sentence, her voice grew quieter and quieter.

Kotomi chuckled lightly. “Whether I sit next to you or Yui, either way is fine~ When I picked my seat, it was pretty random. Yui wanted to sit by the window, so I just chose another window seat. I actually wanted the three of us to sit together, but since the first-class car only has two seats per row, we had to split up. Still, it’s nice this way—there’s barely anyone in the whole car, so it’s really quiet~”

Yukino, however, thought to herself quietly: No, it’s not the same. Yui is your girlfriend, while to you, I’m probably just a close friend… She lowered her gaze slightly, her eyes fixed on Kotomi with a mix of affection and quiet melancholy.

No… it’s not the same. Yui is your girlfriend, while in your heart, I’m probably just a close friend.

Yukino opened her mouth slightly. If she had just a bit more courage, she might have actually said those words aloud to Kotomi Izumi. But in the end, she didn’t. Instead, she adjusted her emotions and quietly said:

“This winter came earlier than usual… or maybe it’s just that the snow came early.”

“Yeah, it did. It’s still only November next month, and yet it already feels like winter. Winter… let’s see… it’s the best season for steaming-hot bowls of ramen, hot pot, or sukiyaki. Ah, now I’m hungry again~ I wonder what kind of meals they serve in first class on the Shinkansen? I really want a huge braised meatball, or maybe braised pork rice with an egg on top.”

Kotomi Izumi laughed softly. This snowfall might have been the earliest one Japan had seen in years.

After finishing her words, she set down her now-empty bottle of iced green tea. She wanted to order another drink but decided against it—after all, they’d be having dinner soon. She figured she’d just wait until the meal service started and order both food and drink together.

“So,” Yukino said softly, “I want to play the piano again. Like before—to enter a piano competition. But unlike before, this time I won’t be doing it because my mother forced me to. This time, I want to do it for myself.”

The way she said it carried quiet conviction. Kotomi could tell immediately from Yukino’s tone that this was something she had only recently resolved to do—but something she had decided firmly nonetheless.

How recently? It was unclear—maybe a day or two ago, or perhaps just an hour ago. But even if she had made up her mind only a second before speaking, the moment Yukino Yukinoshita decided on something, she followed through with unshakable resolve.

“Ah…”

Yukino’s words pulled Kotomi out of her thoughts—she had just been debating whether to order braised pork rice or a pork cutlet bowl for dinner.

From the time they first met until now, they hadn’t known each other for too long or too short a time. But Kotomi knew Yukino well enough to tell that when she hadn’t made up her mind about something, her attitude would feel detached, almost perfunctory.

However, when Yukino truly made a decision, every little detail about her changed—her tone, her posture, even the way she looked at someone. She became completely unwavering, just like during the cultural festival rehearsal.

“There’s a piano competition at the end of December,” Yukino continued. “I plan to enter it. It’ll be my first time competing in years. Thinking back to the last piano competition I joined… there’s not much worth remembering. I made it to the finals, but I wasn’t in good condition that day, so I didn’t win.”

As she spoke, Yukino gave a bitter smile and continued in a tone that was half self-mockery, half confession.

“It’s kind of ironic, actually. My mother used to look down on every piano competition I entered and every award I won. No matter how well I played or how many strong opponents I beat to take first place, she never once praised me.

“She would only show up for the final round, stay for ten minutes at most, and then leave without saying a word. Even when I became the champion, she never congratulated me, never encouraged me. All she would say, after glancing at my trophy, was: ’Still not good enough.’

“The last competition I entered years ago wasn’t particularly big or small, but that day, because I wasn’t in form, I lost. I didn’t feel that sad about it—winning or losing seemed normal to me. And besides, I thought: even if I had won, my mother wouldn’t have praised me anyway. So if I lost, she wouldn’t bother saying anything either.

“But as I stepped off the stage, I saw her standing a short distance away, waiting. When I walked up to her and called out, ’Mom,’ the response I got wasn’t her voice—it was her raised hand, and the next second, the slap that struck my face.

“Her slap was hard—completely unrestrained. It knocked me to the floor as she screamed at me, demanding to know why I lost, if I hadn’t practiced hard enough. In that moment, she denied every victory and every championship I’d ever achieved before.

“The maid who was supposed to take care of me didn’t dare come forward, intimidated by my mother’s cold, commanding stare.

“My ears were ringing, and there was a strange sweet taste in my mouth. Later, when I looked in the mirror, I realized that my lips were bleeding from where she had struck me.

“She had never once encouraged me when I won first place, not even shown a faint smile. But the one time I lost, she reacted with such fury.

“After that, I stopped practicing piano altogether. I never entered another competition. Maybe I was being defiant toward her, but she didn’t seem angry. After that day—after slapping me for losing—she became completely indifferent.

“Before, she had at least been cold but responsive. If I spoke, she would reply. After that day, even when I spoke directly to her, she wouldn’t answer. Even when I didn’t practice, she never scolded or reminded me. Eventually, practicing piano just faded out of my life, and she never mentioned it again.

“I thought I would never play the piano again in my life—until recently, when I accepted your invitation and played again. My fingers touched the black and white keys, revisiting pieces I used to be sick of, trying to regain my sense of touch little by little. After so many years, there wasn’t any real joy in reuniting with the piano—just a faint nostalgia when I saw the same piano I had played since childhood.

“Later, I found out from the maid who used to look after me that the piano from my childhood had already been scrapped long ago. It wasn’t even damaged, but the day after I moved out of the house to Gokugū Apartments, my mother had ordered the maids to dismantle it—to smash it into pieces and dispose of it as junk.

“I never realized, because even though I visited home every few weeks, I never entered the piano room. The door was always locked, and I never thought to go in. So I simply assumed the piano was still there.

“When I called my mother recently and asked her to send that piano to my apartment, she didn’t say much. Instead, she bought an identical one and had it delivered to me. It looked exactly the same—so much so that I thought, Has she really kept it in such perfect condition all these years? It looks brand new.

“I really don’t know what goes through her head sometimes.”

Yukino Yukinoshita let out a helpless little laugh. Toward her mother, she didn’t feel anger or sadness anymore—just weary confusion and resignation.

After the faint smile faded from her face, she continued softly:

“The night the cultural festival ended, I went home and played the piece we performed together on stage. I still don’t know whether I truly like playing the piano, but after finishing that song, I felt an overwhelming urge to compete again.

“Maybe it’s just stubbornness—not wanting my last piano competition to end in defeat. I want to win. To win one more piano competition—and then make that my final one.

“That’s why I want to play again, to compete again. Sorry for talking so long. It’s strange… I don’t know when it started, but whenever I talk to you, Kotomi, it feels like there’s so much I want to say. Before, I held back out of restraint, but this time I couldn’t stop myself. It feels good, actually—to be able to say everything in my heart to you.”

Throughout Yukino’s long story, Kotomi Izumi hadn’t interrupted once. She simply sat quietly, listening.

When Yukino finally finished, their eyes met—and Kotomi reached out her small hand.

“Eh?”

Yukino’s eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing red.

Kotomi’s fingertips were gently brushing against the corner of her lips.

Softly, with a tender voice, Kotomi said:

“What I’m more concerned about right now… is whether your lips still hurt.”

—

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