Episode Fifty

“I’m genuinely thrilled about this project! I really wanted to thank everyone involved.”

“I have absolutely no intention of interfering with the concept or design. Please do whatever you like. If the agency says no to anything, it’ll be entirely because of Motomura-san. Blame Motomura-san!”

“Cendrillon is absolutely brilliant! I was thinking of doing some stealth marketing, regardless of being an ambassador. I’ve even been recommending it to stylists and members.”

The centre of ‘Charles’, Haibara Hiname.
If one were to verbalise her first impression, it would be something like “an absolutely lovely girl” or “the ideal high school girl as imagined by adults”.
Her speech is clear and articulate, she’s honest and earnest. Yet she shows no sign of being intimidated and even cracks light-hearted jokes.
　But her timing for interjections is perfect, and her polite speech never falters.
That alone would be impressive enough, but of course, she’s also exceptionally good-looking. Her figure is model-like, and she attended a famous private girls’ school in Tokyo – her polished uniform design and naturally black hair made her sparkle.
It was as if she had a halo around her.

Within mere minutes of her appearance, the entire male contingent was utterly smitten.
　Even Shindo seemed somehow more relaxed.
Or rather, I was starting to feel captivated myself.
How to describe it? Her aura was overwhelming.
It hits you like a wave to the face. Like shimmering particles, some mysterious substance.
I was glad I’d honed my resistance to beautiful girls through Ibara.

Consequently, the meeting proceeded in a consistently harmonious atmosphere.
　There were hardly any of the disruptive interruptions I’d feared. For a full hour, Haibara-san simply lavished praise on the concept proposal we’d pre-coordinated with the manufacturer.
Was this even a meeting? I couldn’t help wondering. But hearing an active idol say, “Do your best with your work, okay? ♡” sent motivation skyrocketing for everyone involved, including the online participants. So I reckon it was well worth it (Momono-chan, with characteristic cheek, had also joined on mute despite having no connection to the project whatsoever).

　Then, five minutes before the scheduled end, it concluded with “Right then, we look forward to continuing our work together.”

“Ah, Amami-san.”

As everyone began shuffling to their feet, Haibara-san called out to me.
Eh? Why?

“You mentioned it earlier, didn’t you? That one of my fans is your junior.”

“Ah. Ah… yes, that’s right.”

I vaguely recalled mentioning it briefly during the meeting.

“If you like, I could sign something for them?”

“Eh, is that alright?”

“Absolutely!”

She said this with a bright smile. What a godsend of a response. But was it really alright?
I glanced at Shindo-san’s expression. “If Haibara-san says so,” came his magnanimous reply.

“Ah, but I need to go to the storeroom, so it might take a little while.”

Shindo-san glanced at the Apple Watch on his wrist.

“Sorry, but I’ve got another meeting, so I’ll head off first.”

And so, Shindo-san left with the manufacturer’s representative.
Motomura-san also excused herself, saying she had her next meeting.
Only Haibara-san and I remained.

“Right then, shall we go? The storeroom’s one floor down.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Is the stairs alright? The lifts in this building take forever to arrive, you know.”

“I see.”

I followed along as instructed. We descended the stairs to a room bearing a ‘Supplies Storeroom’ sign.
Inside, it barely qualified as a storeroom – more like a spare room where bulky odds and ends had been temporarily dumped.
　The room, with cabinets lining the walls, was slightly dusty and dimly lit due to thick curtains.

“Ah, here it is! I’ll just write it straight away.”

Haibara-san took a piece of coloured paper from the cabinet and held it, pinching it between her elbow and forearm.
Taking a sign pen in hand, she wrote her signature with fluid, unhesitating strokes.

“This is for your junior, right? What name shall I write?”

“Ah, Momoko, please. The momo from peach fruit, and the ko from child.”

“Right then. But it feels a bit lonely, doesn’t it?”

“Eh?”

“You didn’t ask for my autograph, did you, Amami-san?”

It was a question difficult to answer on the spot.
　Seeing me falter, Haibara-san gave a soft chuckle, the corners of her mouth lifting.

“Sorry. I was being mean. Here, you’re welcome.”

I took the autograph paper she offered.
At the end of the scrawled signature, “To Momoko-san” was written in neat, careful handwriting.

“Ah, thank you.”

“Oh no, it’s nothing,” she waved her hands dismissively.
　Even her casual gestures were astonishingly cute.
“Come to think of it,” — Hiname said, placing her index finger on her chin.

“You were in charge of the new packaging design for ‘Rêve’, weren’t you, Amami-san?”

“Eh? Ah, yes. Though to be honest, most of it was my senior’s work. I only did the princess illustration, really.”

“I wanted to ask the person who designed that, so I was a bit selfish and asked Motomura-san.”

“Ahaha, I heard from Shindo-san. We’re incredibly grateful as a company… though I’m not sure if I can meet your expectations.”

“Was there a model or something for that?”

“Eh?”

“The ‘Rêve’ illustration.”

“…Ah, well, that…”

I couldn’t tell anyone about my relationship with Ibara.
Especially not this girl, who had been close to Ibara.

“I’m sorry, it’s a bit difficult to explain.”

“Ah, is it a trade secret, perhaps?”

“Y-yes. Something like that.”

“Huh.”

In that instant, her expression vanished completely.

“Liar.”

“…Eh?”

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

In an instant, the air felt frozen solid.
I find myself doing an involuntary double-take.
This girl, who is she!?
The girl who’d been beaming a dazzling smile just moments ago, and the girl now glaring at me with a low voice, I can’t connect the two.
Haibara-san (?) stepped forward abruptly.
　I stepped back as if pushed.
Someone unfamiliar, wearing Haibara Hiname’s face, said mockingly.

“Looks like you’re about twenty-five, eh? That means you’re already in your late twenties, Amami-san.”

“H-Haibara-san?”

“So, what was late-twenties Amami-san aiming for when she approached Ibara? I’d love to know.”

“H-Huh?”

“Connections in showbiz? That girl’s savings? A former fan? Or were you just some pervert who fancies high school girls? Surely you weren’t trying to recruit her for adult videos, were you?”

“Wait, what… what are you talking about?”

“Oh, still playing dumb, are we?”

Haibara-san’s slender, yet powerful arm seized me by the collar.
　She leaned in close enough to kiss me, whispering in my ear.

“You’re living with Ibara, aren’t you?”

Her voice dropped two octaves, and the content made every hair on my body stand on end.

“──Tell me the truth. Come on. Otherwise, I’ll spill everything, absolutely everything, to that Shindo chap from earlier, okay?”