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 - The Pink-Haired Gal and the Ruthless Battle Over the Fridge
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: "Marriage Training Life Diary." The open page showed today's date and an empty "Mutual Understanding" section, gaping like an open mouth.
A surveillance camera mounted near the ceiling by the wall blinked its red light on and off. The recording signal. In this room, everything except the bedroom, bath, and toilet was on camera. Even my pathetic display right now was probably being saved to the school's servers.
I let out a breath.
On the desk lay last month's evaluation sheet, tossed there carelessly. At the 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 Academy High School was required to complete the "Marriage Training." Boys and girls paired up and lived together in these training apartments. They split the chores, managed the household budget, met with their homeroom teacher every Friday, and at the end of each month received a "Relationship Evaluation." Five tiers: S, A, B, C, D. Anyone who reached A rank or above earned the right to swap partners. A privilege reserved for the top ten.
Me, Yakuin Jirou, was paired with the class's number-one gyaru, Watanabe Akari.
...Wait. How did it come to this?
I'm a shadow. Nobody notices me, even in class. My black bangs hang a little too long, and my dark brown eyes are always pointed at the floor. A hundred and seventy-two centimeters, slim build, but thanks to being fast in elementary school, my legs are decently muscular. Whether I'm in my navy blazer or a plain hoodie, my presence is basically zero. I introduce myself, and by the next day people have forgotten my name. That kind of guy.
And yet, of all people, why her?
A head of pink hair floats into my mind. Always laughing in the center of the classroom. Flashy, bright, loud. During breaks she's chatting happily with Takamiya Sachi and Ohashi Natsumi. A gyaru at the very top of the class hierarchy, living in a different world from me.
Watanabe Akari.
Honestly, I'm not good with her. With gyarus. Their mannerisms feel crude, their sense of personal space too close. When I'm hit by that sparkling aura of theirs, the gloomy parts of me stand out even more, and I want to sink through the floor.
But we live together. Because of this Marriage Training system.
I looked at the evaluation sheet again. B rank. One point short. 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.
There's 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, that good-looking guy. Frustrating as it is, they look perfect together. Minami isn't just handsome—he's sensible and kind, treats everyone equally. Even a gloomy guy like me gets a normal greeting from him.
So I want the 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 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 my throat and wouldn't come out.
In the end, I said "See you tomorrow" and ran. That night, I threw the letter in the trash at home.
All these years later.
I tapped the input field on the chat screen. Typed out the characters.
"Can we meet in the library sometime?"
No, that's no good. Too direct. Under the Marriage Training rules, meeting alone with someone of the opposite sex outside your pair was a deduction. Minus ten points. If I got caught, this month's A rank would be a pipe dream.
I set the phone down and flipped over the evaluation sheet. "List of Deductible Behaviors" 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 note.
"However, chance encounters are not subject to deductions."
Chance encounters.
I read that line over and over. Meet Shiori in the library, pretending it's a coincidence. No deductions. 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 kept blinking away. As if it were laughing at 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.
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. 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 that flashy appearance, she comes home surprisingly early at night. She sleeps in until the last possible second in the morning, takes forever with her makeup, but she does her share of the chores properly.
The laundry.
The laundry I hang out to dry, Akari always folds it neatly for some reason. My T-shirts, my hoodies, all of it. Her folding is so precise it looks like store display.
That surprised me.
I thought gyarus were sloppy about that kind of thing.
And the other day, when I was laid up with a cold. Akari didn't say a word—just left a sports drink and some jelly on the desk and went out.
...That surprised me too.
The pen tip hovered over the notebook.
I'm not good with gyarus. Not good with Akari. And yet, before I knew it, I was thinking about her. Whether she's okay eating nothing but convenience store bento. Whether she's managing to wake up in the morning. 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, all that comes to mind is Akari.
My discomfort around gyarus, and the version of me that keeps thinking about Akari. The gap between them makes me sick.
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. This'll be another B rank.
I closed the notebook and set down my pen.
I glanced at the living room clock—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 was just me.
...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 stood up slowly. Careful not to make any noise with my slippers, I headed for the entrance.
I reached out to check the intercom monitor.
At that moment—
"...Jirou, you there?"
Through the door, a familiar voice.
My hand stopped.
Huh.
That voice just now.
I put my hand on the doorknob. The cold of the metal spread slowly across my palm.
...Wait. Calm down.
This month I have to get A rank. One point short. Just one point, and I get the swap right. I can be paired with Shiori. That's what I've wanted all along.
And yet.
If I get the 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 useless 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 want?
The surveillance camera's red light blinked, blinked. As if sneering at me for having no answer.
I took a deep breath and let it out.
Then I opened the door.
Pink hair burst into my field of vision.
"Took you long enough! What were you doing in there?!"
Watanabe Akari stood there holding a convenience store bag. Her long pink hair fell in inward-curling waves from her shoulders down her back. Her big brown eyes sparkled under the bright light. Her nails were flashy as ever—a star-shaped stone on her right thumb. White hoodie, shorts, platform sandals. It was nine at night, and yet the air around her alone seemed different.
A gyaru.
A real, genuine gyaru was standing in front of my room.
No, wait. It's my room, but it's also Akari's room. Under the Marriage Training rules, we live here together.
"Uh... oh, yeah. Welcome back."
My voice cracked. Pathetic. Akari glanced up at me as she took off her shoes.
"What's with that reaction? Is it bad that I came home?"
"N-no, that's not it... I thought you had an overnight shift today..."
"Oh, that. My shift changed. The manager suddenly told me to take the night off. So I came home."
Akari strode into the apartment. As she passed me, a sweet scent brushed my nose. Shampoo, or fabric softener. For a gyaru, she smelled way too good.
"So, what were you doing? The life diary? Are you actually writing it?"
Akari plucked the evaluation sheet I'd left on the living room desk. Crap. She'd seen something I didn't want her to see.
"Hey, don't just look at that."
"B rank? 84 points? ...You're one point short. What are you even doing?"
Akari snorted. I retreated toward the wall and shrank into myself. I'm not good with gyarus. Not good with Akari. When she talks to me from this close, I don't know where to look.
"...Can't help it. I'm a shadow. I can't score points on interview attitude or whatever."
"This month we're getting A rank and claiming the swap right!"
Akari suddenly thrust her index finger right in front of my nose and declared it.
"...What?"
"I'm going to take this training seriously. You cooperate too. Got it?"
The swap right.
The words stung my chest. Akari wants a partner swap too. Same as me. Maybe Akari wants to be paired with Minami. With that handsome Tenjin Minami.
...Just like I want to be paired with Shiori.
"...Fine. I'll do it. I'll cooperate."
I answered quietly. Akari nodded, satisfied, and set the convenience store bag on the kitchen counter.
"But before that. Are you actually eating properly?"
"Huh?"
Akari opened the fridge.
And froze.
"...What is this?"
Inside the fridge, half-price convenience store bento were stacked with no gaps between them. The spoils of my week-long stockpiling. Fried chicken bento, hamburger steak bento, assorted bento, beef bowls, oyakodon. All of them with yellow half-price stickers stuck on proudly.
"...They were cheap. They were half off."
"You've been eating nothing but this?! Vegetables—where are the vegetables?!"
Akari opened the vegetable drawer. Inside, a quarter of a shriveled cabbage and some lettuce on the verge of turning brown rolled around apologetically.
"...I have cabbage."
"You don
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