More Than a Married Couple, Not Lovers: If - Shiori Sakurazaka's Unrequited Love
Jirou Yakuin has one goal: earn an A Rank in the school's Marriage Training program and use his partner-swap privilege to reunite with his childhood friend, Shiori Sakurazaka—the girl he's loved for years but never confessed to. There's just one problem. His partner is Akari Watanabe, the class's flashiest gyaru, and the closer they get to A Rank, the less certain Jirou becomes that Shiori is really the one he wants.
But Shiori has a secret of her own. The quiet, gentle girl everyone adores has
More Than a Married Couple, Not Lovers: If - Shiori Sakurazaka's Unrequited Love - I'm easy to overlook, a red lamp, and a B-rank reality.
The fluorescent light in the living room flickered with a sound like a sigh.
Yakuin Jirou stood frozen in the middle of the cramped living room of the practical training apartment, staring down at an A5 notebook. On the cover were the words "Marriage Training Life Diary." The open page showed today's date and a "Mutual Understanding" section that gaped open, still completely blank.
A surveillance camera mounted near the ceiling by the wall blinked its red light on and off. The recording-in-progress signal. In this room, everything except the private bedroom, bath, and toilet was on camera. Even my pathetic figure right now was probably being saved to the school's server.
I let out a breath.
On the desk lay last month's evaluation sheet, tossed there carelessly. At the very bottom, printed in bold black letters: "B Rank." 84 points. One point away from A Rank. Just one point, and it felt impossibly far.
Every third-year student at Seishun Gakuin High School was required to complete the "Marriage Training." Boys and girls paired up and lived together in these training apartments. Share the chores, manage the budget, meet with the homeroom teacher every Friday, and at the end of the month, a "Relationship Evaluation" was issued. Five tiers: S, A, B, C, D. Anyone who ranked A or above earned the right to swap partners. A privilege reserved for the top ten only.
Me, Yakuin Jirou, I was paired with the class's number-one gyaru, Watanabe Akari.
...No, wait. How did it come to this?
To begin with, I'm the kind of guy who fades into the background. Nobody notices me even when I'm in the classroom. My black bangs hang a little long, and my dark brown eyes are always looking down. I'm 172 centimeters tall, slim, but thanks to being a fast runner back in elementary school, my legs are decently muscular. Whether I'm wearing the navy blazer or a plain hoodie, my presence is basically zero. I can introduce myself and people forget my name by the next day. That kind of guy.
And yet, of all people, why her?
A head of pink hair surfaces in my mind. Always laughing in the center of the classroom. Flashy, bright, loud. During breaks, she chatters happily with Takamiya Sachi and Ohashi Natsumi. A gyaru at the very top of the class hierarchy — a world completely different from mine.
Watanabe Akari.
Honestly, I'm not good with her. With gyarus in general. Their mannerisms feel crude, their sense of personal space too close. Being exposed to all that sparkly energy just makes my gloomy side stand out even more, and I want to sink through the floor.
But we live together. Thanks to this Marriage Training system.
I looked at the evaluation sheet again. B Rank. One more point. If I don't make A Rank this month, I won't get the partner swap right.
The partner swap right.
The words caught somewhere deep in my chest.
I have someone I like. Sakurazaka Shiori. My childhood friend since kindergarten, and I've been in love with her for years and years. Right now, she's paired with Tenjin Minami — a good-looking guy. It kills me to admit it, but they look good together. Minami isn't just handsome; he's sensible and kind, treats everyone equally. He talks to even a gloomy guy like me like it's nothing.
So I want the partner swap right. I want to be paired with Shiori. That's the one and only reason I've been taking this training seriously.
...The one and only reason. It's supposed to be.
I picked up my phone. Unlocked it, opened the messaging app. The chat screen with Shiori. Our last exchange was three days ago. I sent "Good work today," Shiori replied "Yeah, good work," and that was it.
Winter of my second year of middle school. That day, I was going to confess to Shiori.
Behind the school building after class. The sunset dyed everything orange, and Shiori had half her face buried in her scarf, breathing white puffs into the air. I crushed the letter in my pocket and tried, over and over, to say it.
I like you.
Just a few words. And yet they stuck in the back of my throat and wouldn't come out.
In the end, I said "See you tomorrow" and ran away. That night, I threw the letter in the trash at home.
And years have passed since then.
I tapped the input field on the chat screen. Typed out the characters.
"Can we meet at the library sometime?"
No, that's no good. Too direct. Under the Marriage Training rules, meeting alone with someone of the opposite sex who isn't your partner was a penalty. Minus ten points. If I got caught, this month's A Rank would be a pipe dream.
I set the phone on the desk and flipped over the evaluation sheet. A "Penalty Behavior List" was laid out in bullet points.
- Going out alone with a non-partner of the opposite sex
- Eating alone with a non-partner of the opposite sex
- Meeting a non-partner of the opposite sex in a private room
Every single one of them seemed aimed squarely at me and my desire to see Shiori.
But at the very bottom of the list, there was a small footnote.
"However, accidental encounters are exempt from penalties."
Accidental encounters.
I read that one line over and over. Meet Shiori at the library, pretend it's a coincidence. No penalty. By the rules, there's nothing wrong with it.
...I hate myself for coming up with such a sneaky trick.
I turned off the phone screen and looked up at the ceiling. The surveillance camera's red light blinked away as always. As if mocking my indecision.
"Haah..."
My sigh dissolved into the quiet room.
I pulled myself together and faced the life diary. This week's theme: "Mutual Understanding." Write specifically about how well you understand your partner.
About Watanabe Akari.
I gripped my pen. My hand stopped.
...I don't know anything.
Her favorite foods, her least favorite foods, what she does on her days off. Her taste in music, her taste in movies, her family structure. We live together, and I don't know a single thing about Akari.
No — there are things I do know.
Akari always buys convenience store bento. Despite her flashy appearance, she actually comes home surprisingly early at night. She sleeps in until the last possible second in the morning and takes forever with her makeup, but she does her share of the chores properly.
The laundry.
For some reason, Akari always folds the laundry I hang out to dry, neatly. My T-shirts, my hoodies, all of it. And she folds them so precisely they look like store displays.
That surprised me.
I'd assumed gyarus were sloppy about that kind of thing.
And then there was the time I was laid up with a cold. Akari didn't say a word — just left a sports drink and some jelly cups on the desk before heading out.
...That surprised me too.
The tip of my pen wavered over the notebook.
I'm not good with gyarus. Not good with Akari either. And yet, before I know it, I'm thinking about her. Whether she's okay eating nothing but convenience store bento. Whether she's managing to wake up in the mornings. Whether I still haven't said thank you for the laundry.
What is this?
I like Shiori. That hasn't changed. It's not supposed to have changed. And yet, trying to fill in the Mutual Understanding section of the life diary, all that comes to mind is Akari.
My aversion to gyarus, and the version of me that thinks about Akari without realizing it. The gap between them makes me sick to my stomach.
In the end, all I wrote in the Mutual Understanding section was: "Regarding food preferences, I have not yet gained sufficient understanding." A safe, inoffensive sentence. With this, it'll be B Rank again.
I closed the notebook and set down my pen.
I glanced at the living room clock — already past nine at night.
Akari had said she had an overnight shift at her part-time job today. She'd also said she was going out with friends. I couldn't remember which. Either way, she wasn't coming home tonight.
So this quiet room, just me alone in it.
...That's how it was supposed to be.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
My body jolted.
Who is it? At this hour. Akari shouldn't be coming home. A delivery? No, I wasn't expecting anything.
My heart started pounding in a strange rhythm. The surveillance camera's red light blinked in the corner of my vision.
I rose slowly. Careful not to make a sound with my slippers, I headed for the entryway.
I reached out to check the intercom monitor.
And in that moment—
"...Jirou, you there?"
Through the door, I heard a familiar voice.
My hand stopped.
Huh.
That voice just now.
I put my hand on the doorknob. The cold of the metal seeped slowly into my palm.
...Wait. Calm down.
I have to make A Rank this month. One more point. Just one point, and I get the partner swap right. I can be paired with Shiori. That's what I've wanted all along.
And yet.
If I get the partner swap right — do I really want to be paired with Shiori?
Do I want to throw away my life with Akari?
Akari, who eats nothing but convenience store bento. Akari, who's terrible in the mornings. Akari, who folds my laundry so neatly. Akari, who left a sports drink without a word on the day I was sick.
...What do I actually want?
The surveillance camera's red light blinked — on, off, on. As if sneering at me for having no answer.
I breathed in deep, and let it out.
Then I opened the door.
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