Chapter 1: Yukino
The midsummer sun beat down mercilessly over Mitakihara District's commercial center, its glare almost oppressive in the early afternoon heat.
Yukinoshita Yukino stood before the entrance of an establishment called Jiguzhai Auction House, seriously questioning whether her companion had somehow managed to hold the map upside down.
"Nee-san, I was under the impression we were shopping for Mother's birthday gift."
"We are, Yukino-chan. Isn't this a wonderful place for exactly that?"
Yukinoshita Haruno didn't give her sister a chance to retreat, smoothly linking their arms together before Yukino could pull away.
"Uncle Nogi recommended this place personally. He mentioned they recently acquired something special. For Mother's gift, we can't just settle for another silk scarf or brooch, can we? How boring would that be?"
"I fail to see how antiques reeking of decay would be more appropriate than a scarf."
Yukino allowed herself to be led forward, though her posture remained stiff, her weight subtly shifted backward in silent protest.
"Besides, establishments like these typically have air quality approximately twice as poor as department stores."
Haruno's eyes crinkled with amusement. "My, my. Don't be so rigid, Yukino-chan."
"A change of pace might do you good. Or are you perhaps... scared?"
Before Yukino could formulate a suitably cutting response to such baseless provocation, a familiar figure passed through the curtained entrance just at the edge of her vision.
Short black hair. Well-fitted casual clothing. An aura that somehow felt fundamentally disconnected from his surroundings.
Kazama Chiba.
The name surfaced in Yukino's mind, dragging with it a collection of long-buried memories she couldn't quite classify as pleasant.
Those memories could wait.
The real question was: why was he here?
Mitakihara District's central hub sat in the heart of Kamimizu City—luxury boutiques, exclusive member clubs, places where money flowed like water. According to Yukino's recollection, Kazama lived so frugally he probably didn't dare dream about spending money, afraid the contrast upon waking would be too crushing to bear.
Seeing him here was like encountering a wild panda in your backyard. Statistically improbable. Possibly impossible.
Yukino didn't want to dwell on it. She turned, preparing to leave.
"Oh my, isn't that Chiba-kun? Yukino-chan, aren't you going to say hello?"
Haruno's eyes gleamed with mischief.
Yukino's foot instinctively retreated half a step. "He's nobody important."
"Nee-san, perhaps we should visit the Ginza department stores instead. They have a wider selection."
"No need to rush." Haruno's arm slid around Yukino's shoulders, blocking her escape route. "What's this? Avoiding an old friend? That's hardly the etiquette expected of the Yukinoshita family's second daughter."
"If your definition of 'friend' includes strangers who haven't exchanged a single word in two years, then you desperately need to consult a dictionary."
Yukino's gaze remained fixed forward, deliberately avoiding the retreating figure.
"Furthermore, I see no necessity for pleasantries."
Haruno sighed with exaggerated drama, though her eyes never left Kazama's back.
"How cold, Yukino."
"You two were so close as children—close enough to make even your older sister jealous. Inseparable after school every single day. What happened when you reached high school to change things so drastically?"
Yukino's response came without hesitation.
"That's merely your imagination."
"If you wish to study the sociology of changing relationships, the library's social sciences section would serve you better."
Haruno raised both hands in mock surrender.
"Hai, hai."
"You win. I can never out-argue you. But humor me, won't you? I can't very well shop for gifts alone."
Haruno leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Besides, doesn't something strike you as odd?"
Yukino glanced at her. "You mean the fact that someone as insufferable as you somehow has friends?"
"Pfft—I mean Kazama-kun."
Haruno suppressed a laugh.
"As I recall, he's an orphan without any connections, correct? His living expenses depend entirely on scholarship money and part-time work. So why would he come to a place like this?"
Yukino's voice remained flat, though her feet had stopped moving toward the exit.
"You must be incredibly bored. How others choose to live their lives is none of your concern."
"Whether he's spending a fortune to impress someone has nothing to do with me."
"Are you certain about that?" Haruno's tone turned silky, like a serpent coaxing Eve toward the apple. "I simply find it fascinating. When people act out of character, there's always a powerful motivation behind it."
"Perhaps he's risking everything for something only obtainable here? Doesn't that sound exactly like the tragic novel plots you enjoy?"
Haruno tugged Yukino toward the entrance. "Come on. We'll shop for Mother's gift and watch an interesting show."
Inside the auction house, the atmosphere shifted dramatically.
Guests clustered in small groups on deep crimson velvet chairs, conversing in hushed tones or leafing through catalogs. The air smelled of old money and older secrets.
Kazama Chiba occupied a seat in the front row, completely oblivious to the commotion behind him.
Haruno, evidently a regular patron, navigated them expertly toward the back of the venue, settling into an inconspicuous position in the third row from the rear.
From this vantage point, they had an unobstructed view of that familiar figure ahead.
Kazama leaned back in his chair, catalog in hand, seemingly lost in thought. No nervous glances around the room. No signs of being out of his depth. He'd integrated seamlessly into the environment.
"See? Isn't it remarkable?"
Haruno leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What is?"
"Chiba-kun, of course. Doesn't he seem like a completely different person? When he used to trail after you, he was always so timid. Now look at him—perfectly composed."
"Perhaps he found a new master to follow."
Yukino opened the catalog at her seat. The items ranged from antique calligraphy to jewelry, each with eye-watering price tags.
"Pfft—master? Yukino, your word choice remains delightfully sharp." Haruno smiled. "Tell me, do you think he has the funds to purchase anything here?"
Yukino's gaze fell on a sapphire brooch with a seven-figure starting bid.
"Other people's financial situations don't interest me."
"Is that so? But I remember you used to care quite deeply about his. When he'd eat only bread for lunch, you'd share your tamagoyaki. When he wore nothing but a thin jacket in winter, you would—"
"Yukinoshita Haruno."
"Hmm?"
"If your sole purpose today is reminiscing about the past, I'm afraid I must decline to participate."
Yukino closed her catalog, preparing to stand.
"Don't be angry." Haruno's hand pressed down on hers. "I'm simply curious. After all, he's the only boy who, after you told him 'please don't speak to me anymore,' actually stopped. Permanently."
"..."
"Every other admirer clung desperately, trying every method imaginable to capture your attention. Only he vanished cleanly. As if those years of friendship were nothing but a dream. Don't you find that strange?"
Yukino settled back into her seat without responding.
The stage lights brightened as an impeccably dressed auctioneer stepped onto the platform. Conversation died instantly.
"It's starting," Haruno noted.
"Good afternoon, distinguished guests. Welcome to Jiguzhai's July Summer Auction. I'm your auctioneer, Suzuki. Our first item today is a ukiyo-e masterpiece from the Edo period by Toshusai Sharaku: 'The Third Otani Oniji as Yakko Edobei.'"
Under the spotlight, staff displayed a remarkably preserved print.
Yukino had no particular knowledge of art. The exaggerated facial expression on the figure struck her as somewhat overwrought.
Beside her, Haruno watched with genuine interest.
In the front row, Kazama hadn't even opened his catalog. He glanced up briefly before resuming his previous posture.
Clearly, this piece held no appeal for him.
"Number Ten bids one million five hundred thousand."
"Number Thirteen, one million six hundred thousand."
Bids flew back and forth.
Yukino had lost all sense of these numbers as actual currency. She simply observed.
Observed that boy in the front row, waiting to see at what moment he would raise his paddle.
And for what purpose.
"Speaking of which, Yukino." Haruno's voice intruded again. "Did you and Chiba-kun truly grow distant only after entering high school?"
"What other explanation could there be? Interpersonal relationships shift with environmental changes. A perfectly natural phenomenon."
"Is that what you believe? I think Chiba-kun was simply too perceptive."
Yukino's page-turning paused momentarily.
"He learned to read the room too well. So he understood that the Yukinoshita family's youngest daughter couldn't remain friends with a penniless orphan forever. Rather than wait for you—or someone in our family—to make that clear, he chose to disappear on his own terms. At least that way he kept some dignity."
Haruno spoke as if reciting established fact.
Yukino asked quietly, "Is that how you've always viewed him?"
Haruno twirled a strand of hair around her finger.
"I'm merely stating what I observed. He saw through your intentions. He recognized that invisible boundary line. Then he retreated behind it of his own accord. Which is precisely why I'm so curious—"
"..."
The auction continued.
One priceless antique after another was presented, then sold.
Kazama never raised his paddle.
Not because he lacked the funds, surely. These items simply didn't interest him.
Yes. That must be it.
Behind him, Yukino found herself reflecting.
Haruno's words dragged her back to middle school graduation day. She'd planned to talk with Kazama about high school, about the growing distance between their worlds.
But she never found him.
He'd vanished like smoke, erased himself completely from her life.
No goodbye. No confrontation. Not even a farewell text message.
So clean, so absolute, it made those years of companionship feel like an elaborate illusion.
Apparently, he wasn't oblivious. He was hyperaware.
He'd seen everything coming and made the rational choice before she could speak.
A new item being brought to the stage yanked Yukino from her thoughts.
The object appeared to be some kind of crude ceramic lamp, its surface embedded with an utterly unremarkable stone carved with what looked like a rat design.
The workmanship was rough. The materials showed no obvious quality. Several sections displayed visible damage.
"What is that? Did the organizers bring out the wrong item?"
Someone voiced the question rippling through the crowd.
Auctioneer Suzuki hesitated before recovering her professional composure, glancing at her information card.
"Ahem. Our next item is a ceramic lamp which, according to the consignor, was excavated from an Eastern tomb. Specific dating and purpose remain unknown. Due to its potential historical research value, we've set the starting bid at one million yen. Increments of one hundred thousand."
Silence descended like a curtain.
Everyone assumed the organizers had lost their minds.
A damaged ceramic lamp for one million yen?
"They couldn't pay me to take that thing," Haruno remarked.
Yukino couldn't fathom what value such an object could possibly hold. The seller hadn't even bothered fabricating a provenance story. Did they truly take buyers for fools?
The auctioneer stood on stage for several awkward moments. No paddles rose. The atmosphere grew tense.
Just as Suzuki prepared to bring down the gavel and declare the lot unsold—
A voice rang out from the second row.
"One million."
Every head in the venue swung toward the speaker, searching for the fool with more money than sense.
The bidder was Kazama Chiba.
The auctioneer grabbed this lifeline like a drowning woman, her gavel crashing down for the first count.
"We have one million from this gentleman! Do I hear higher bids?"
"Oh?"
Haruno's lips curved upward.
Yukino's brow furrowed.
She couldn't comprehend why Kazama Chiba would spend one million yen on such obvious garbage.