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 - Cafe Poplar in the Dead of Night: A Perfect Man's Escape Route
The day before the deadline.
The living room of the practical apartment was dead silent.
In the corner of the ceiling, the surveillance camera's red light blinked on and off, cold and mechanical.
Yakuin Jirou sat on the sofa, hugging his knees.
On the table lay the life journal, still completely blank.
The pen was still lying on the floor where it had fallen.
(I can't write it.)
His head was a mess.
Akari's scream echoed over and over in the back of his ears.
"I hate you so much!"
(...It's my fault.)
I know that.
I know it, and yet.
I don't know what I should have done.
He picked up his phone.
On the screen was a message from Tenjin Minami.
"Has Akari said anything to you?"
It had arrived last night.
He'd left it on read and never replied.
(What am I supposed to say to Minami?)
(Akari's saying she wants to swap pairs. With you.)
(Like I could ever say that.)
Jirou tossed his phone onto the sofa.
He glanced at the clock.
It had just past midnight.
(Can't sleep.)
(...I want some fresh air.)
Jirou rose unsteadily to his feet.
He threw on a hoodie.
He opened the front door as quietly as he could.
Outside, the cold air stung his skin.
The November night was colder than he'd expected.
He descended the apartment's outdoor stairs slowly.
The streetlights cast a faint glow on the asphalt.
He already knew where he was going.
Academia Street.
The shopping district he passed through every day on the way home from school.
And inside it, the Poplar Café.
The shop that stayed open late into the night.
(That place should be empty.)
(I can cool my head there, alone.)
Jirou shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking.
Academia Street was quiet, as if the daytime bustle had been a lie.
Shuttered shops lined the street.
Among them, only the Poplar Café stood alone, its lights on.
An old wooden signboard.
Warm-colored light spilled from inside onto the street.
Jingle, jingle.
The bell rang as he opened the door.
The scent of coffee tickled his nose.
"Welcome."
The master's voice came from behind the counter.
Jirou gave a slight bow and looked around the shop.
There were no customers.
...Or so he thought.
At the window seat.
A single man sat there.
Light brown mushroom-cut hair.
A small piercing in his left ear.
His gray eyes were fixed on the cup in his hands.
Tenjin Minami.
Jirou's classmate — the guy Akari admired.
And the very person who'd asked Akari, "Why don't you pair up with me?"
(Why is he here...)
Jirou's feet stopped dead.
His heart made an unpleasant lurch.
(I should leave.)
Just as he thought that—
Minami looked up.
His gray eyes caught Jirou straight on.
"...Yakuin."
Minami's voice was a little lower than usual.
"Ah... Tenjin."
Jirou averted his eyes, awkward.
"Small world. What are you doing out at this hour?"
"...Couldn't sleep. You?"
"Same. Couldn't sleep."
Minami said it with a faint smile.
That smile was somehow different from the refreshing one he wore at school.
He looked... tired.
"Sit down. I'll buy you a coffee."
Minami gestured to the seat across from him.
"...No, I'm—"
"There's actually something I wanted to talk to you about."
At those words, Jirou's feet stopped.
Something he wanted to talk about.
(About Akari? Or...)
Jirou hesitated for a moment.
But Minami's eyes were strangely serious.
"...Alright. Just for a bit."
Jirou lowered himself into the seat across from Minami.
The leather sofa creaked.
"Master, another hot coffee."
Minami called out to the counter.
"Coming right up."
The master's easygoing reply.
After a while, a steaming cup of coffee was placed before Jirou.
"...Thanks for the food."
Jirou wrapped both hands around the cup.
It was warm.
Feeling crept back into his fingertips.
"Did you hear about Akari?"
Minami broached the subject.
Jirou's heart gave a jump.
"...Hear what?"
"That I asked Akari to pair up with me."
Minami set his cup down quietly.
"Yeah... I heard. From Akari directly."
"I see."
Minami lowered his eyes.
"Maybe I'm the one who hurt Akari."
"...Huh?"
Jirou didn't understand and asked again.
"What are you—"
"I didn't ask Akari because I was really seeing her for who she is."
Minami looked out the window.
The streetlight reflected white on the glass.
"I just wanted to run away from the person I like."
"...The person you like?"
"Yeah. ...My stepsister."
Minami's voice fell quietly.
"My stepsister... Nozomi. My brother's wife."
Jirou was speechless.
The guy who seemed the most perfect in class.
Kind to everyone without favoritism, good-looking, sensible.
And that guy—
"You're going to laugh, right? It's a pathetic story."
Minami twisted his mouth in self-mockery.
"...No, I won't laugh."
Jirou forced the words out.
"I can't laugh at that."
Minami looked slightly surprised.
"I see. ...You're kind."
"I'm not kind."
"No, you are. No wonder Akari likes you."
"...Huh?"
Jirou raised his head.
"Akari seriously likes you."
"...No. Akari likes you, doesn't she? That's why she wants to swap pairs."
"Not quite."
Minami shook his head.
"I know Akari admired me. But that's not it anymore. Akari only makes that face in front of you."
"...That face?"
"The face like she's about to cry. The angry face. The embarrassed face. All of them are real."
Minami's words pierced deep into Jirou's chest.
(Akari, likes me?)
(No. That can't be.)
(Because Akari, back then...)
"I want the right to swap pairs."
(That's because she wants to pair with Minami, right?)
Jirou's head was in chaos.
"...I don't get it."
Jirou hung his head.
"I just don't get Akari."
"I see. Then let me ask you."
Minami leaned forward.
His gray eyes pierced through Jirou.
"What do you want to do about Akari?"
"...What do I want to do?"
"The pair swap. Do you want it or not? What do you want to become with Akari?"
Minami's question was far too direct.
Jirou couldn't look away.
"...Akari asked me. Whether I wanted to swap pairs."
"And what did you answer?"
"...That she could do whatever she wanted."
The moment Jirou said it—
Minami's expression vanished.
"...I see."
Minami quietly lowered his eyes.
"That's pretty cruel, you know."
"...What?"
"If the person you like tells you 'do whatever you want,' you can't say anything more after that."
Minami's voice was flat.
"It's the same as blocking off her escape route. You threw it in Akari's face: 'Your feelings don't matter to me.'"
"...No. That's not what I meant."
"Whatever you meant, that's how it's received. Akari must have been hurt. Deeply."
Minami's words were sharp as a blade.
They sank deep into Jirou's chest.
(I...)
(What did I do to Akari...)
Akari's face, on the verge of tears, surfaced in his mind.
"I hate you so much!"
(That was a scream.)
(I trampled all over Akari's feelings.)
Jirou's hand clenched around the cup.
His fingertips went white.
"...I'm not one to talk, though."
Minami muttered with self-derision.
"I know better than anyone how cruel running away can be."
"...Tenjin."
"I couldn't say anything to Nozomi. If I had, everything would have broken. My relationship with my brother, my family, all of it. So I ran. I ran to Akari."
Minami stared at his coffee cup.
"But running doesn't solve anything. It just increases the number of people you hurt."
"..."
"Yakuin. You're about to do the same thing I did."
Minami raised his head.
"Shiori and Akari. Are you going to keep running, unable to choose between them? And hurt them both?"
"...I..."
Jirou was at a loss for words.
(I like Shiori.)
(That's true.)
(But...)
Akari's smile flashed through his mind.
That smile in the cooking classroom, laughing at the face-shaped sausages.
(Akari too...)
(...Do I like her?)
Jirou couldn't understand his own heart.
"You don't have to answer right now."
Minami said quietly.
"But tomorrow is the deadline. Akari is waiting. For your words."
"...My words."
"Yeah. How you feel about Akari. Tell her properly, in your own words."
Minami stood up.
"Before you end up like me — running, and regretting it."
Minami pulled some coins from his pocket.
"This is for mine and yours. The coffee."
"...No, I'll pay for my own."
"It's fine. It's my thanks for listening."
Minami placed the coins on the table.
Clink — a small sound.
"See you, Yakuin."
Minami turned his back and left the shop.
Jingle, jingle.
The doorbell rang out, lonely.
Jirou could only watch Minami's back as he went.
(Before you end up running, and regretting it.)
Minami's words lingered deep in his chest.
(I'm running.)
(From Akari. From Shiori.)
(From my own feelings.)
Jirou took a sip of his cold coffee.
Bitter.
A bitterness that seeped all the way to the bottom of his heart.
When he left the shop, the streetlights of Academia Street shone coldly.
The air had grown even colder.
His breath came out white.
(What should I say to Akari?)
(That I like her?)
(No. It's not something I can say that easily.)
(But...)
"Do whatever you want."
(Those words — I can't pretend they never happened.)
(I hurt Akari.)
(I have to apologize properly.)
(And then...)
Jirou clenched his fist inside his pocket.
(I'll talk to her properly.)
(I'll face Akari.)
(I'm done running.)
That, he decided in his heart.
He hurried toward the practical apartment.
The cold wind stung his cheeks.
The practical apartment came into view.
...Huh.
Jirou stopped in his tracks.
Light was spilling from the living room window.
(Is Akari still awake?)
(Didn't she go to the separate bedroom...?)
Jirou dashed up the stairs.
He opened the front door quietly.
Click.
The living room light stretched thin into the hallway.
Jirou peeked into the living room.
On the sofa.
Watanabe Akari sat hugging her knees.
Her long pink hair hung limply over her shoulders.
Her light brown eyes stared blankly toward the TV.
The TV wasn't on.
Only the room's light illuminated her.
"...Akari."
When Jirou spoke—
Akari slowly raised her head.
"You're late. Where were you?"
Akari's voice was forceful.
But.
Her eyes were red and swollen.
Her voice was trembling faintly.
(Was she crying?)
Jirou's chest tightened.
"...The Poplar Café. Couldn't sleep."
"Huh. Alone at this hour?"
"...No. I ran into Tenjin."
Akari's expression stiffened for an instant.
"...With Minami-kun?"
"Yeah. We talked a little."
"...About what?"
Akari's voice dropped.
"About you. ...Various things."
"...What about me?"
"...I'll tell you tomorrow. Properly."
Jirou sat down beside Akari.
The sofa sank a little.
Akari kept hugging her knees, staring straight ahead.
"...I don't know what to do about tomorrow's deadline."
Akari murmured.
"I have to give Minami-kun an answer. ...But I don't know what I want to do."
Akari's voice was frail.
Not the usual forceful Akari.
"...I don't know either."
Jirou said honestly.
"I don't understand my own feelings either. But there's one thing I do know."
"...What?"
Akari glanced at Jirou.
"I said something terrible to you. ...I'm sorry."
Jirou bowed his head.
"I shouldn't have said 'do whatever you want.' I ignored your feelings."
"...Jirou."
Akari's voice trembled.
"After school tomorrow, there's something I want to talk about properly."
Jirou raised his head and looked Akari straight in the eye.
"I won't run. I'll say it properly, in my own words. ...So, can you give me time tomorrow?"
Akari stared at Jirou in silence.
Her red, swollen eyes.
But those eyes were certainly reflecting Jirou.
"...Okay."
Akari gave a small nod.
"Got it. ...I'll wait."
Her voice was still trembling.
But it was far more genuine than the usual forceful Akari.
The two of them sat side by side in silence for a while.
The surveillance camera's red light blinked on and off in the quiet living room.
But it wasn't the suffocating silence from before.
It was a slightly different silence.
Jiro
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