Chapter Fifty-Three: Something’s Off with Sayame Amamiya!

Half an hour later, the two of them arrived at the Serizawa household.

Glancing at Kurorai Fuko, who now seemed noticeably more distant, Anwa couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Ever since she'd asked that question in the car and he'd admitted the truth, Kurorai Fuko had fallen silent. Several times, Anwa had attempted to ease the atmosphere, but she never responded. If not for her affection meter still displaying an impressive 91, Anwa would have thought she'd given up on him completely.

Shaking his head, Anwa decided it would be best to give them both some space. He reached out and pressed the doorbell.

The crisp "ding-dong" was quickly followed by the sound of hurried footsteps within. Before long, the door swung open and Rena Serizawa poked her head out. But when her face came into view, both Anwa and Kurorai Fuko were taken aback.

A sudden giggle escaped Kurorai Fuko, while Anwa struggled to suppress his laughter, his face flushing red.

What happened?

Rena tilted her head in confusion, her small face full of puzzlement. Suddenly, a slender arm holding a mirror reached out before her eyes. Rena instinctively looked into it, and the moment she saw her face covered in doodles—and a huge turtle drawn on her forehead—her cheeks turned bright scarlet.

With a whoosh, Rena dashed back to the living room at a speed she had never mustered before.

Seeing this, Anwa turned to Amamiya Sawo, who was still holding the mirror, and couldn't help but laugh. "What did you do to her?"

"She insisted on playing Daifugō with Yui and me. The loser gets their face drawn on by the winner." (Daifugō is similar to President or Big Two.)

Amamiya Sawo replied calmly. After speaking, she glanced at Kurorai Fuko and gave a polite bow. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Kurorai."

Anwa had already explained at lunch that Kurorai Fuko was the manga artist, so Sawo showed no surprise at her presence.

Unlike Sawo's composure, Kurorai Fuko’s gaze was much more complex, but she still returned the bow and greeting.

After the two entered, they changed shoes in the entryway and followed Sawo into the living room. At the sound of movement, a girl poked her head out from the kitchen—Yui Serizawa, whose face also bore a few doodles, though far fewer than Rena’s.

Upon noticing Anwa entering with a mature, unfamiliar woman, Yui shook the apple in her hand and explained, "Please wait a moment, the fruit will be ready soon!"

With that, she disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Is that her older sister?" Kurorai Fuko asked, curious.

Before Anwa could answer, Sawo interjected, "She’s the younger sister. The idiot from earlier is the elder one."

"I see!" Realization dawned on Kurorai Fuko. She then asked why Sawo’s face was free of doodles.

Despite this being their first proper meeting, the two soon fell into an unusually smooth conversation. Anwa tried to join in several times, but was unable to find an opening, so he simply got up and headed for the kitchen.

He could understand Kurorai Fuko ignoring him, but even Sawo was acting distant… It seemed that during his absence, something must have happened. Determined to fish for information, Anwa decided to chat with Yui.

However, just as he stepped into the kitchen, the lively conversation in the living room abruptly fell silent.

Seeing Sawo suddenly quiet, Kurorai Fuko was about to ask what was wrong when, in the next moment, Sawo’s figure loomed large in her vision.

With a dull thud, Kurorai Fuko was knocked to the floor. Before she could react, Sawo buried her face into Kurorai Fuko’s neck, inhaling like a kitten catching a scent. Kurorai Fuko could clearly feel Sawo’s warm breath against her skin, and the girl's unique fragrance filled her nose, making her heartbeat quicken.

“N-nn… what’s the matter?” she stammered.

At her words, Sawo lifted her head. Her bright, clear eyes gazed down at Kurorai Fuko.

Seeing her evasive gaze, Sawo’s voice drifted softly, “You have Yusei’s scent on you. And yesterday, and even days before, he has had your scent as well.”

Her tone was utterly calm, but in Kurorai Fuko’s ears, it was like thunder, leaving her frozen in place.

…

“So, what exactly happened?”

“I told you, nothing at all,” Yui replied impatiently, brushing off Anwa’s persistent questioning as she began arranging the plates she’d just washed.

“Really?” Anwa wasn’t convinced—Sawo’s behavior today was definitely odd.

Perhaps tired of being nagged, Yui sighed, set down the plate, and turned around, hands on her hips, to say helplessly, “She just asked what you usually did when you visited our house. That’s all.”

“That’s it?” Anwa blinked. Yui rolled her eyes and blinked back in exaggerated imitation.

“That’s it!” She turned back to her task, and Anwa stepped forward to help.

“Did you wash your hands?”

The sound of running water answered before he replied, “I have now.”

When the two of them returned to the living room, each carrying a large platter of assorted fruit, they were surprised to find Rena and Sawo playing Daifugō again.

Kurorai Fuko was also playing, but her face—once so composed—was now covered in strange and funny doodles.

“What happened?” Anwa asked curiously as he set down the fruit and sat beside Sawo.

She glanced at Rena, whose face was flushed, and whispered, “This idiot refused to give up.”

“Id… idiot?” Anwa was startled; it was the first time he’d heard Sawo use an insult.

But when he looked at Rena, he fell silent. He remembered that before he left, she’d gone to the bathroom to wash her face. How long had it been? And her face was already covered in doodles again…

Looking around, he saw that Kurorai Fuko, Rena, and Yui all had drawings on their faces—only Sawo’s face remained spotless.

Could it be that the goddess of gambling was sitting right next to him?

A new path to fortune seemed to open before Anwa’s eyes.

A few minutes later, the round ended, and as expected, Sawo emerged the victor once more.

Rena clamped a card in her mouth that read, “Can you go easy on me?” and leaped onto Sawo, nestling her chin atop a certain soft and lofty peak, gazing up at Sawo with big, moist eyes.

Meeting her gaze, Sawo’s face softened into a gentle smile, but she slowly shook her head.

…

Two hours passed.

Sawo and Yui were busy in the kitchen preparing dinner.

Rena, Anwa, and Kurorai Fuko sat together around a large Japanese-style heated table. Spread out before them were character illustrations from “Attack on Titan.” Kurorai Fuko was teaching Rena to draw the heroine Mikasa, while Anwa, sitting across from them, was sketching the Armored Titan.

Because the Serizawa house lacked an air conditioner, the heated table made winter especially cozy.

But then, suddenly, Anwa’s body stiffened.

Leaning back slightly, he looked down at the foot wrapped in black stockings resting atop his thigh, and silently fell into contemplation.