Chapter 371: The World Flips Upside Down

“But, I’m letting you choose.”

Firm and decisive, Aoyama Nanami smiled. Her smile was natural and refreshing.

It was said. Finally, all of it was said.

All the feelings buried deep in her heart were laid bare in one go. Not a single trace of hiding or concealment remained.

A girl who became timid because of love, yet also became brave because of love.

“And please, think about the future where we become boyfriend and girlfriend.”

A future with Nanami as his girlfriend?

What would it be like?

Because of those words, Himekoji couldn’t help but imagine.

All the chaotic thoughts from the past two days suddenly seemed to gain vivid pictures.

His body felt emptied, then slowly filled again. His mind filled with every single moment from meeting Nanami until now.

Nothing earth-shattering, no life-or-death drama, no heartbreaking sorrow. Just pure, simple happiness, enough to make the corners of his mouth lift in a smile.

If he became Nanami’s boyfriend…

That feeling might be wonderful.

No.

It definitely would be wonderful!

Himekoji took a deep breath, responding directly with clarity for the first time:

“I understand. I will definitely give it careful thought.”

Himekoji felt there was really only one question he needed to consider most:

Could he and Nanami be boyfriend and girlfriend?

Could he?

…

“Thank you. Well then, I’m off to the audition.”

The audition start time was exactly five o’clock. Time wasn’t plentiful; getting to the venue still took time.

Having said what she wanted to say, having gotten the answer she hoped for, the girl was now content and fulfilled. So now, it was time to focus her heart and mind on the upcoming test.

Leaving everything else for after the audition. That was fine.

For Nanami, this was enough.

“Do your best.”

Himekoji spoke to her back as she had already started walking.

“Mhm.”

Nanami turned back. Her bright, radiant smile answered him lightly.

“I think I finally understand the main character’s true feelings in the script…”

“I’ll do my best. This time, I’ll definitely succeed and show you.”

Aoyama Nanami saying that seemed to glow.

Brighter than a thousand suns.

……

Five-thirty.

The audition was probably halfway through by now?

Was everything going smoothly for Nanami?

Sitting in the Art Classroom, Himekoji stared blankly out the window.

His eyes weren’t focused; he wasn’t paying attention to the scenery within his field of view.

Honestly, he didn’t quite remember how he’d even gotten to the Art Classroom just now. Though he had some fragmentary memories, he couldn’t piece together the actual, specific details.

His mind was still only filled with thoughts of Nanami. Here, inside Mashiro’s Art Classroom. Here, while serving as Mashiro’s model.

“I really, really like Himekoji!”

“I actually know, Himekoji… you probably still like someone else.”

“But, I’m letting you choose.”

…

As if bewitched, these words clung tightly to his eardrums, impossible to peel away, replaying over and over in a constant loop inside his head.

That moment when she confessed, that Nanami who still tried hard to hide her effort, her brave smile… he just couldn’t forget it.

Himekoji’s body felt as though a huge hole had been torn open. Everything inside seemed taken by Nanami. Left in Himekoji’s heart instead was an awkward, happy feeling born from the torrent of emotions Nanami had unleashed.

In front of Mashiro, he remained completely immersed in Nanami’s world.

…

“It’s done.”

“The audition is done?”

The words spilled out, only realizing it was bad the moment he spoke.

Had he mixed up Mashiro and Nanami again?!

He wished he could slap himself!

Within two short days, he’d repeated the same mistake, making it twice in a row.

Full of guilt and trepidation, he hung his head, silently waiting for Mashiro to speak.

At times like this, he felt even speaking an apology would shame him.

He had promised himself last time he would never do this again…

“The drawing is done.”

Unexpectedly, Mashiro didn’t seem to mind at all. It was as though she hadn’t noticed.

No. She noticed. She definitely noticed. That’s why she emphasized the word “drawing” the second time.

“The… drawing? It’s done?”

The voice Himekoji uttered instinctively felt unnaturally shaky, completely beyond his control.

His mind had been dominated by regret and self-loathing over “messing up again,” so he hadn’t noticed something much more crucial at all.

Only now was it sinking in—

This moment…

It had finally arrived.

His heart leapt into his throat. The nervousness rivalled when he faced Nanami’s confession earlier.

“Yeah. Done.”

Mashiro’s answer was simple. Straightforward.

“How is it?”

Himekoji barely managed to keep calm on the surface.

“Masterpiece.”

She stated it as if it were obvious.

It wasn’t an exaggeration, nor pride.

Those two words – “Masterpiece” – were simply Mashiro stating a fact.

Himekoji couldn’t find the slightest doubt about that.

“May I look?”

He had a feeling that after seeing Mashiro’s painting, everything might change completely.

The old Himekoji might not have had the courage to even glance.

But now, more than running away, he wanted to face it.

Nanami had already shown him the way.

“Mhm.”

Mashiro nodded, confirming.

So, Himekoji stood up and walked closer to Mashiro, closer to the painting.

The nearer he got, the more tense and stiff his body became.

Yet, Mashiro chose that exact moment to speak again—

“Akito, I…”

“I can’t be like Akiko.”

Himekoji didn’t understand her meaning. The tension scrambled his thinking. He could only reply instinctively.

“No one can be like Akiko, can they?”

His Imouto’s brother complex and… Chikan tendencies often left him feeling helpless.

He just didn’t get why Mashiro brought this up now.

And Mashiro looked deadly serious.

“I can’t be like Kasumigaoka either.”

“Huh? What?”

Himekoji was even more confused.

But Mashiro didn’t explain. She just kept going.

“I can’t be like Eriri.”

“I can’t be like Yukinoshita or Yuigahama either.”

“Mh…?”

Himekoji felt like he finally grasped something. Words failed him. As if pulled by an unseen force, he took another step closer to the painting, closer to Mashiro.

“I can’t be like ordinary people.”

Himekoji froze. Mashiro stood right before him, close enough to touch.

“So… I can’t be like Nanami either.”

“Shi… Shiina…”

“Painting is all I can do.”

As she spoke, Mashiro, who stood in front of the canvas, stepped aside to let Himekoji see.

So, the painting flew straight into his line of sight.

That instant felt like a strong spring wind hitting his face. Like standing in a field hearing flowers bloom. Vibrant colors everywhere, birds singing among the long grass.

Of course, it was all illusion.

A beautiful illusion.

He still stood right in the middle of the Art Classroom. Not in a field. Not spring. The windows were shut tight. No wind existed here.

The cause was solely Mashiro’s painting.

It changed the time. Changed the place. Changed the season.

It was Mashiro’s painting that brought the wind to his face.

That wind didn’t rise or fade by nature’s will, but by feeling.

The wind brushing his cheek stopped.

Himekoji’s face turned bright red.

The painting showed him sleeping spread-eagled on a mountain of girls’ Underwear of all kinds.

Strangely, this perverted background held no perverted feeling.

Only soft, warm colors creating gentleness and warmth.

Little Hikari lay beside him, belly up. Both he and the cat slept peacefully, their lips curled in identical faint smiles.

Himekoji didn’t know he had such an expression.

It was a sleeping smile he’d never seen on himself, yet it was the warmth he most longed for.

It seemed like a strength that could endure anything was held within that tenderness.

…..

This was how Mashiro saw him?

She thought too highly of him.

That kind of evaluation… he couldn’t bear it.

Obstinate. Withdrawn. Perverted. Cold. That was him.

The him unworthy of anyone’s affection.

“Glad I finished it.”

Mashiro’s voice reached his ears, seeming both near and far.

Himekoji felt his throat entirely clogged. No sound could come out.

Only Mashiro’s soft whisper.

“All my feelings.”

“They’re all drawn onto this painting now.”

…..

What would the people who supported Mashiro’s painting think seeing this?

What would the Sensei who taught her think?

What would the critics say?

To them, perhaps this painting held no value. Just an ordinary picture not worth commenting on.

Because the model was Himekoji.

Because the background was vulgar, unspeakable Underwear.

It possessed no artistic value whatsoever.

But for Himekoji… for the Himekoji witnessing this moment…

The painting Mashiro made accurately, powerfully, intensely conveyed a feeling strong enough to flip the world.

Like a roaring race car smashing through every barrier, wrecking the track.

Unreasonable. Passionate. Violent. Like a berserker of emotion.

From start to end, one emotion filled the painting—

Like.

Mashiro’s like for Himekoji.

No other words were needed.

“Akito.”

“Hm.”

Stunned by the painting, deeply lost within it, Himekoji only numbly moved his lips when Mashiro called his name.

“I don’t know what tomorrow will be like…”

“I don’t know what the future holds…”

Mashiro paused, as if to finally confirm her own feelings.

“But, I…”

“…”

“I think I painted all this time… just to make this one picture.”

Mashiro, whose expression could always be described as impassive at best, smiled.

Himekoji saw Mashiro’s smile for the very first time.

It was a smile that released all feeling. Serene. Honest. At peace.

Bathing in the sunset, it shone.

“Akito… did you get my feelings?”

“Mhm…”

“I like Akito.”

“…”

“Even if Akito likes Nanami… I still like Akito.”

……