552: An Uninvited Guest

This wasn't Chisato's first time at the Ijichi household. 

Back when he was working part-time at STARRY Hall, he'd often drop by to carry in liquor or beverages that couldn't be stored at the venue.

But today was the first time he was making a proper visit for dinner.

As he stepped into the apartment building, he watched Seika, acting like a true hostess, bend slightly to tuck her hair behind her ear and take out a pair of slippers from the cabinet, placing them neatly at his feet. 

That fleeting moment of femininity made him pause, a little dazed.

By the time he snapped out of it, Seika had already stood up and was glaring at him with a sharp tone.

"What are you doing just standing there? You want me to put them on for you too?"

Chisato, not sure what he was thinking, replied with a teasing question of his own.

"Can you?"

That line was practically begging for a smack.

And sure enough, Seika instinctively raised her hand, intending to deliver a firm slap to this insolent man. 

But she quickly remembered that the guy in front of her wasn't just a broke student working part-time anymore—he was now the CEO and composer/lyricist of a rapidly growing company.

In the end, she held back. 

With a look of mild irritation, she curled her palm into a fist and waved it theatrically, muttering, "You trying to die or something?" before briskly turning and heading deeper into the apartment.

Chisato chuckled.

He slipped on the slippers and followed her inside.

"I'm home."

"Welcome back, Sis! Hurry up and take a shower—dinner's almost ready... Eh? Chisato-kun's here too?"

"Yo, sorry to intrude."

Chisato waved toward the kitchen where Nijika had just poked her head out.

"Since no one's feeding me tonight, I figured I'd come crash your place for dinner."

"Spare us the sob story. You're a rich guy living in a downtown high-rise—don't make yourself sound so pitiful."

Seika casually tossed her bag onto the couch and walked off toward her room.

Nijika came out of the kitchen, still holding a ladle, and walked over to Chisato with a slightly apologetic smile.

"That's just how Sis is. The more she talks like that, the more it means she's trying to hide how she really feels."

"Got it. That whole... tsundere thing, right?"

"Exactly. And she's not just like that with you—sometimes she acts the same with me and even Dad. Once you get used to it, you kind of start finding it cute."

"Mm."

No worries—he was already starting to get it.

Chisato gave an OK sign. 

From his point of view, this younger sister actually gave off more of a big sister vibe. Her mature, thoughtful demeanor was, in its own way, quite charming.

While the two were whispering to each other, Seika, holding her change of clothes, shot them a glance. She resisted the urge to say anything and walked straight into the bathroom.

"You're cooking, right? Let me help."

"No need. Guests should sit nicely on the couch and wait to eat."

"No need to be so formal with me."

"I'm serious. There's only a bit left to finish. If you come in, the kitchen's small enough that we'll just get in each other's way. It'll slow me down instead."

With it said so firmly, Chisato followed Nijika's lead and obediently sat on the sofa, flipping on the TV.

The channel ended up on a harem romance anime, where beautifully drawn 2D girls were being brought to life by passionate voice acting.

Even in this world, Japan's anime culture was still a force to be reckoned with.

Seika didn't take long in the shower. Soon enough, she came out and plopped down on the couch right next to Chisato.

She wore casual loungewear and sat with one arm lazily draped over the back of the couch, the other holding a can of beer fresh from the fridge. 

Without a care for Chisato's gaze, she tilted her head back and chugged a big gulp.

Back when they'd first met, Chisato probably would've mentally grumbled something like, This woman's clearly got an old man living inside her head.

But now that he knew her better, it gave him a strangely pleasant feeling.

Forget the "middle-aged man" vibe—this was just honesty and straightforwardness. 

No pretentiousness, no fake cuteness—an admirable trait far better than those who tried too hard to act cutesy.

Wait a sec—why was he suddenly picturing Iroha in his mind?

Seika, who had planned to just sit normally and let him look all he wanted, finally began to lose her composure when she noticed he had been staring at her—completely still—for over ten seconds.

She even started to wonder if maybe something was off when she checked herself in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom.

Did she have something on her face?

Or maybe the collar of her sleepwear had slipped too low, and he'd seen something he shouldn't have?

Crap—she'd focused too much on her face earlier and hadn't paid attention to anything below the neck.

This guy... is he for real?

If she'd known, she wouldn't have worn her usual loungewear.

…Wait, hold on. This is my own house!

Seika suddenly snapped back to reality.

"I'm asking you—are you five years old or what?"

Seika straightened up and looked back at him. Realizing she was on her home turf, she quickly regained her confidence and authority.

Chisato snapped out of it and glanced toward the television screen.

On it, the male protagonist was being smothered in the ample bosoms of several heroines, looking like he was about to suffocate from the sheer force of it.

To dismiss what many men would call the ultimate fantasy with a single, casual "childish"—he couldn't just let that slide.

Chisato felt compelled to correct her misconception.

"Manager, you may personally see it that way, but the true role of 2D worlds is to soothe the wearied souls of people in reality. 

They fulfill desires we long for but can't attain. It's a spiritual support system—something that brings healing and satisfaction. Isn't that kind of beautiful, in its own way?"

Seika: "…"

"Am I wrong?"

Chisato rested his hands on his knees and clasped them beneath his chin. With a gentle smile, he radiated both logic and charm.

Seika, however, only gave him a dry chuckle—whether in admiration or sarcasm was unclear.

"Then I'd like to ask you something. What if things that should only exist in 2D suddenly happen to you in real life, right in first-person perspective—how would you feel then?"

She was clearly hinting at the current situation between them.

Chisato paused for two seconds. The confidence from a moment ago vanished, replaced by an awkward attempt to retreat.

"That's a completely different matter."

"Huh, it's rare to see you dodge something like that. What's the matter, shy now?"

Seika sensed she had found a weak point and leaned in closer, her face bright with mischief.

Her playful, older-sister-like amusement was on full display, hungry to see more of Chisato's flustered expressions.

Just then, Nijika emerged from the kitchen carrying the final dish, only to be greeted by the sight of her sister leaning toward Chisato, one arm around the couch behind him, grinning mischievously with a beer in her other hand.

Chisato, meanwhile, looked like he had been cornered into the edge of the couch, bowing his head with an awkward expression.

On the TV, several heroines were now flaunting their swimsuits in close-up shots.

The whole scene looked weirdly familiar—like a reversed version of those shady scenes in movies where corrupt officials harass hostesses at sketchy clubs. 

The roles had simply flipped.

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