Chapter 24: Blackmailed? AGAIN?!
Honne watched quietly as Alan set the cake on the table, placed the candles, and turned off the living-room lights.
The sun hadn’t fully set yet, but the glow of the candles alone was enough to make the room feel unmistakably like a birthday.
Two small flames flickered, painting their faces in soft gold.
Alan smiled. “Alright. Make a wish.”
Honne bit her lip, fighting the sudden sting behind her eyes.
“I never said I wanted cake,” she murmured. “I already made a wish.”
“Already?”
“At the little shrine halfway up Mount Takao.”
“Then make another one,” he said lightly. “Birthday wishes don’t have a limit.”
She pressed her lips together. “…Fine.”
Folding her hands, she closed her eyes. Seconds later, she leaned forward and blew out both candles in a single breath.
Click.
Alan turned the lights back on, then reached into his pocket and produced a small wooden box.
“Happy birthday, Honne.”
She didn’t answer. Her gaze was locked on what lay inside.
A short blade carved from jade, threaded on a red cord.
“May every year bring you peace and good health,” Alan added gently.
Even biting her lip wasn’t enough to stop the tears.
Honne nodded hard, inhaled, and forced her voice steady.
“Then… take a picture for me?”
She fastened the necklace around her throat. “I’ll grab my camera—”
“Your phone’s fine.”
Once she’d settled into a pose, Alan raised his phone.
Click.
He took several shots, picked the best one, and handed it to her.
“How’s this?”
“Perfect.”
But the moment the word left her lips, her smile faltered.
Her brows knit together, she pressed a hand to her forehead, and swayed.
Alan caught her by the shoulders just in time.
Her cheeks were flushed, unnaturally warm.
He pressed his fingers to her brow, then to his own. Not dangerously hot, but unmistakably a fever.
Seriously? I just wished her good health…
He guided her to the sofa. “Sit here. I’ll get the first-aid kit.”
Honne nodded, heavy-lidded eyes following him until he left the room.
The instant he was gone, she exhaled sharply, pulled his phone from the table, and forced herself to ignore the dizziness.
First, she downloaded an app from a chat link and hid it.
Then she opened his contacts.
Swipe.
Swipe.
Her finger stopped.
Nozomi Sakura.
***
10:30 a.m.
The teacher was still lecturing when Nozomi Sakura sat near the air conditioner. A faint, cool breeze lifted her bangs now and then, keeping her more awake than usual. Even Yuri hadn’t jabbed her ribs once this period.
“Life is empty and tasteless only to those who believe it so.”
Hearing the quote, Nozomi quietly copied it into her notebook. Maybe it’d earn her one more point toward that million-yen prize.
The lecture ended earlier than expected, and fatigue hit her all at once. She stifled a yawn.
Before she could finish, the girl beside her spoke.
“Let me check your notes. Just in case.”
Nozomi blinked, confused, but slid the notebook over to Yuri anyway.
“I picked up a shift this afternoon,” Yuri explained. “Reviewing now saves time later.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Nozomi nodded, sympathy creeping into her gaze.
Two weeks ago, she’d been waitressing at the same diner. Last-minute shifts and swaps were common.
The work was exhausting—carrying plates, washing dishes—but the money kept her afloat. What she dreaded most was serving classmates.
Nozomi’s father—old-fashioned to the core—believed “respectable girls don’t parade themselves in public.”
In middle school, her allowance had been small but manageable. High school changed everything.
The stipend barely covered textbooks, and the shady online loan she’d taken left her with no choice but to work.
She didn’t know what Yuri thought of her. Still, her wounded pride insisted Yuri must look down on her.
After one humiliating incident, Nozomi quit and found a job farther away. Even so, she worried, there were only so many restaurants near school.
Luckily, she’d met Alan.
Without him, her world would still be pitch black.
“Looks fine,” Yuri said, handing back the notebook. “Review these sections this afternoon. I’ll quiz you at the library the day after tomorrow—”
No response.
Tap. Tap.
“Huh? Oh, right.” Nozomi straightened.
Yuri hesitated, lips pressed thin. “You… okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll memorize everything today.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Yuri shook her head. “Exams are in two months. Can you really juggle all these extra classes?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course.”
Yuri raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you taking three core acting courses?”
She’d wanted to ask since day one. Nozomi’s attendance was spotty, she slept through lectures, hardly model-student behavior.
“Um… I’m interested… In acting.” Nozomi’s voice softened. “I might pursue it seriously.”
Yuri caught the implication. “You want to be an actress?”
Nozomi nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m thinking about it.”
Yuri studied her in silence, eyes narrowed.
Nozomi squirmed. “What?”
“…Nothing.” Yuri turned away.
But Nozomi heard the unspoken verdict loud and clear.
You’re delusional.
Watching her disappear, Nozomi groaned and leaned back.
“What was I even saying…”
Regret prickled. Yuri—top student, actual acting enthusiast—had every reason to doubt someone who snored through theory class.
Still, irritation burned beneath the shame.
Just because she wasn’t enrolled didn’t mean she lacked talent. Did Yuri really have to look down on her?
What if Alan’s right?
What if she really had something special?
She’d been trying: taking notes, buying expression workbooks, practicing in front of the mirror every night.
Her thoughts drifted to Alan.
Yesterday, he’d gone to celebrate Hojo’s little sister’s birthday.
How had that gone?
Tch.
He already had a girlfriend and still went out with another girl.
But… did he actually like her?
Her phone buzzed.
Probably spam.
She let the screen dim before lazily picking it up.
The message made her freeze.
“10:30. In front of Literature Building No. 2. Come alone if you want to know the truth about Alan.”
***
Akari Hojo pulled the car to the curb a block from the Literature Building. As she unbuckled her seatbelt, she leaned over and brushed the back of her hand across her sister’s forehead.
“You’ll be fine. The fever should break by this afternoon.”
She was too close. Two soft obstacles filled Honne’s view.
Annoyed, Honne shoved her away.
“I wasn’t that sick to begin with.”
Hojo settled back into her seat, smiling knowingly.
“Sulking because I dragged you home last night?”
“Hmph.”
Honne turned toward the window, cheeks warm.
Exactly. If you hadn’t shown up the moment he called, I’d still be at Alan’s.
A little more coaxing, and she might’ve slipped under his blanket.
Instead, she’d climbed a mountain, ridden an open-air gondola, and taken an ice-cold shower.
Barely tasted his concern before her sister hauled her away.
The thought made her chest ache.
“Tch.”
Hojo chuckled. “Even if I hadn’t come, do you really think Alan would’ve let you stay over?”
“I got sick on purpose,” Honne snapped.
“He would’ve fussed over me. If you were out of town, maybe. But the second he could reach you, he sent me straight here.”
Caught, Honne’s face burned hotter.
She sniffed. “Still worth trying.”
I tried the same thing, Hojo sighed inwardly.
Last year, she’d pretended to be sick just to stay at his place. He’d rushed her to the ER instead.
His worry had been sweet torture, but rejection still hurt. And now that Honne was involved, their blood tie made any real crossing of lines impossible.
That was why she’d allowed Honne to spend the day with him.
Even though the idea of them touching tightened her chest.
Still, she hadn’t expected Honne to go so far as to give herself a fever.
Good.
You’ll need that resolve to win.
“So,” Hojo said lightly, “you’re really meeting Nozomi Sakura?”
“Of course.” Honne narrowed her eyes. “Only a coward would dodge her.”
Hojo smiled. “Aren’t you afraid she’ll tell Alan?”
“Let her. I just want to see what she’s like.” Honne huffed. “We’ve known him forever. I’m allowed to vet his girlfriend.”
She pouted, though her heart fluttered.
They were officially dating now. Interfering could backfire, but she had to look Nozomi in the eye.
Ever since seeing that cozy photo the night before coming to Tokyo, the resentment had been unbearable.
She needed to know.
What made this girl worthy?
Why had Alan chosen her?
Taking a deep breath, Honne reached for the door handle.
A hand clamped around her wrist.
“Wait.”
“What now?” Honne snapped, light-headed.
Hojo said nothing. Her fingers slipped beneath Honne’s collar, drawing out the pendant hidden between her breasts.
“What are you doing?” Honne bristled, clutching the cord.
“He gave you this?”
“Yes. Jealous?” Honne shot back. “He wrote you a song for your birthday, remember?”
Hojo’s gaze lingered on the tiny jade blade.
So he still remembers that design…
“Done staring?” Honne yanked the necklace back under her blouse, stepped out, and slammed the door.
She marched toward the Literature Building, leaving Hojo staring after her.
A keepsake like that… and he gave it to my sister?
Confusion flickered in Hojo’s eyes.
***
Outside Literature Building No. 1, Nozomi Sakura shifted nervously from foot to foot.
People feared the unknown.
That cryptic message about Alan had ruined her morning.
She couldn’t help recalling how she’d first met him, different situation, same gut-wrenching uncertainty.
Crap.
Is this blackmail?
Why does my life always end up like this?
Her imagination spiraled. After running through every possible sin, only one remained.
The online loan.
Had they found out?
Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the petite figure until it spoke.
“You’re Nozomi Sakura?”
Nozomi’s heart lurched.
She turned.
“What are you staring at?” the girl demanded.
Nozomi lowered her gaze, and blinked.
A child?
That was her first impression. Then she noticed the fever-bright eyes, half-lidded yet sharp.
“Are… are you the one who texted me?” Nozomi asked cautiously.
Akari Honne said nothing.
She folded her arms beneath her chest and slowly circled Nozomi, inspecting her from head to toe.
One full turn.
Then a dismissive snort.
“Hmph. Nothing special.”
