228 Am I Dreaming?

The loosely worn straw hat slipped off the girl's head as she looked up, falling onto the grass behind her.

But before she could let out another surprised yelp and turn to pick it up, her tiny nose, glistening with sweat, was gently pinched.

"You're out here in this blazing sun and didn't even think to find some shade?"

Kyousuke put on a mock-angry expression as he playfully pinched Shouko's delicate nose.

"Hehe… But the flowers are happy in the sunshine too, aren't they?"

Nishimiya Shouko's chubby-cheeked smile beamed with innocent joy.

Her fine eyebrows lifted slightly, and her big eyes followed Kyousuke's hand as she looked up at him.

"Flowers can grow through photosynthesis. Can you?" Kyousuke replied with mock annoyance.

"Sunlight can brighten the heart too, right? Borrowing a bit of sunshine to store in your soul… that counts as growth, doesn't it?"

Yamauchi Sakura's voice called out from behind.

She never missed a chance to broadcast her quirky philosophies to the world, as if she carried a rulebook titled The Yamauchi Sakura Guide to Running the World.

Her second life mission—after spreading joy—seemed to be reshaping the world into something she liked.

"What are you, a Kryptonian? Or some sentinel with a billion suns in your chest?" Kyousuke muttered. Was it a billion? Whatever.

He let go of Shouko's nose, gently took her arm, and pulled her up to her feet before retrieving her hat.

"Ahh, that hits the spot. This is the perfect moment for iced barley tea!"

Sakura was already lounging under the shade of a large patio umbrella, guzzling tea from a glass cup.

She drank so fast that a few droplets trickled down her sharp jawline. The amber liquid shimmered against her pale skin, almost glowing.

"Shou-chan, come on! Over here~"

She slapped the grass beside her, and with her blue shorts and white T-shirt, she looked like a playful seal basking in the sun.

Shouko smiled at Kyousuke, then obediently ran over and sat next to Sakura.

Just as she picked up her glass of barley tea, Naoka arrived with a damp towel and began gently wiping her face.

Kyousuke looked over at them—Sakura with her long, pale legs stretched out, grinning smugly as she raised her glass; Shouko and Naoka sitting neatly to the side—and felt like life couldn't get any better.

He plopped down beside Sakura, laid back with his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes.

The large Roman-style umbrella shaded the entire group, instantly banishing the midday heat.

The thick black fabric absorbed all the warmth, and at its edges, the sky shone a brilliant blue.

Wispy clouds drifted lazily above, light enough to vanish with a breeze—though spring's breeze was too gentle to do such a thing.

Soft wind, soft clouds, soft-hearted girls. Everything was harmonious, everything was perfect.

Surrounded by this peaceful scene, and with Naoka gently lecturing Shouko nearby, Kyousuke felt his drowsiness returning.

Unfortunately, Sakura was far from done pestering him.

First, she blew into his ear.

Then, she pressed her cold glass against his arm.

When he didn't react, she started counting strands of his hair one by one.

With her tiny fingers rustling through his hair, Kyousuke, a guy who usually slept like a vampire avoiding the daylight, actually nodded off again.

Sakura, lying on her side and focused intently on her task, suddenly paused.

Her mischievous little face froze in surprise. Carefully, she pushed herself up with one hand and peered into Kyousuke's face.

Those long lashes didn't so much as twitch. His breathing had slowed, long and even.

'Is he's really asleep?'

Delighted, Sakura turned and tapped Shouko's shoulder. She put her finger to her lips to signal Naoka for quiet, then pointed at Kyousuke.

Shouko and Naoka looked confused at first, but once they understood, their faces lit up with the same glee as Sakura's.

It was strange, really—how seeing a guy taking a simple nap could bring them such joy.

Maybe that's just what it meant to live together.

Even with people you thought you knew, close and cozy moments like these revealed new sides and small surprises.

Cooking meals together.

Sunbathing on the lawn.

Strolling the streets.

Sharing crepes from a roadside stand.

Even though she'd just told the others to be quiet, Sakura didn't hesitate to tug one of Kyousuke's arms out from behind his head and use it as a pillow.

She plopped her own head onto it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Naoka pursed her lips in disapproval. Sakura stuck out her tongue in response, then closed her eyes with a sweet smile.

With weather like this, napping was definitely the right move.

Shouko looked at the three of them, her eyes crinkling with joy.

She finished the last sip of her barley tea and carefully placed the glass by the umbrella's base.

Then she went over to the garden and started tending to the flowers again.

Naoka stood, dusted herself off, and headed back to the living room to finish cleaning.

———————————————————————

When Kyousuke woke up for the third time that day, the world had gone dark.

Wait—no. Not dark. Sakura's hand was covering his eyes.

He carefully moved her hand off his face, brushed her hair away from his forehead, and gently shifted her leg off his stomach.

A quick glance at his phone—2:30 PM. So he'd only been out for maybe fifteen minutes.

He stretched with a long, satisfying groan.

Just like how burping was inevitable after cola, or how yawns spread like a virus, even someone as in control of his body as Kyousuke couldn't resist a bit of sleepy moaning.

"Good afternoon, Shouko," he mumbled, finally greeting her.

She was still crouched by the flowerbed, her round little backside wobbling slightly as she worked.

"Good afternoon, Kyousuke-kun. Did you sleep well?"

Shouko wasn't startled by his voice—if anything, it was the most comforting sound in the world to her.

She turned around naturally, a serene smile blooming on her face.

'Shou-chan, am I dreaming?' She asked herself silently.

To be the first person Kyousuke-kun saw after waking…

Her tiny heart swelled with so much happiness, she felt like she didn't even need dinner tonight.

"You're finally awake. Time to get ready to visit the neighbors again," Naoka called out from the hallway, having heard the noise in the yard.

"And Shouko, you especially—go take a shower already."

"Good afternoon, Naoka," Kyousuke replied cheerfully.

As long as you haven't slept the whole day away, it still counts as today.

And waking up means a brand new start. So for Kyousuke, a second round of greetings felt perfectly natural.

"You too, Kyousuke—go change. You're not seriously planning to go out dressed like that, are you?" Naoka scolded.

These three… Lazy as guinea pigs in the sun.

Their life's ambition seemed to be getting to do this all over again tomorrow.

Their only real worry was whether the sun would rise as usual. But, in a way, that kind of simplicity felt profound.

"This is exactly the look of a writer," Sakura chimed in with a yawn, rubbing her eyes.

She wasn't fully awake yet, but that didn't stop her from dishing out her latest life theory.

"Writers should be wild and unrestrained. Honestly, Kyousuke's hair is still too neat. He needs to grow it out, let it get greasy. That's the true aesthetic."

"You mean a hobo? One that Ishigami might use as a puzzle piece?" Naoka shot back.

Kyousuke tapped Sakura lightly on the forehead. She immediately pretended to lose her balance, swooning backward in an exaggerated act.

Even though he knew she was just goofing around, he instinctively caught her by the waist and helped her back up.

"Alright, time to get ready," Kyousuke said, brushing a couple of grass blades off Sakura's shorts.

Yes, visiting neighbors before and after moving in was a custom.

Of course, skipping it wasn't exactly a crime—this was Japan, land of extreme politeness and social anxiety.

Still, it was a chance to build good relationships with those living nearby, especially if this place really was going to be Kyousuke's long-term home.

And if what the three girls had said was true that they were only renting then technically, they should be the ones visiting him, not the neighbors.

According to tradition, they'd even be expected to bring a small gift to thank their landlord.

But all four of them knew full well: this place was as much theirs as it was his.

They weren't just tenants—they were family. So they visited the neighbors not as guests, but as fellow residents.

The three neighboring houses, nicknamed the "red, yellow, and blue triplets," weren't actually related in any way; the homes just happened to be designed in the same style due to the lot shape.

Kyousuke had only managed to remember the names on the plates during his rushed morning visits, skipping out on all other details—whether due to time pressure or his brain's efficient filtering of unimportant data, who knew.

Now, with three sweet and charming girls accompanying him, Kyousuke couldn't afford to be as careless as he was earlier.

This time, they were properly invited inside, served tea, and engaged in relaxed conversations in the living rooms.

"Oh my, childhood friends, huh? How lovely! Sharing your high school days together without a care in the world..."

"My husband and I met during a university mixer. Ahh, those were the days..." said the lady of the red-roofed house, Takemura Yumi, with a nostalgic sigh as she covered her mouth to giggle.

Her husband, Takemura Teppei, ran a mid-sized clothing company.

Their son attended a nearby junior high affiliated with a prestigious university and was currently at cram school.

She hadn't expected the new neighbors whom she'd only briefly greeted during the renovation phase—to show up again, and certainly not with three stunning young ladies in tow.

And then there was Kyousuke himself.

The moment she laid eyes on him, she was floored.

She never imagined the rising literary star whose name had been on almost every literary prize list since last year would look better than most celebrities.

Just this morning, while gossiping about rising real estate prices, they had teased Yui Tanida from lot 23, joking about whether she was planning to snag the handsome new guy.

Yui Tanida was a small-time actress who'd starred in several hit dramas.

Hounded by paparazzi, she'd bought a house here hoping the quiet, respectable neighborhood would shield her from the tabloids.

Among the housewives, she was often the target of harmless teasing—after all, her youth and beauty were easy to envy.

But now, after seeing the trio of girls beside Kyousuke, Takemura Yumi finally understood the true meaning of "beautiful girls."

It seemed only natural that exceptional people would attract others like themselves.

Maybe it really was the good feng shui of the neighborhood that brought them all together.

And Yui Tanida? Just this morning, she had humbly claimed that she wasn't interested due to their age difference, but everyone had clearly seen the sparkle in her eyes.

Yumi couldn't wait to see her reaction when Kyousuke dropped by with that entourage.

With a warm smile, she even shared the scoop on which neighbors were currently home.

Oh, and wouldn't you know it—Yui Tanida, in the yellow-roofed house, just happened to be one of them.

Company CEOs, B-list actresses, engineers, dentists, jockeys...

They weren't planning to visit every house in the neighborhood, just the ones directly surrounding theirs—those they'd bump into coming and going.

It was no surprise this was a high-end residential area.

The residents weren't just wealthy; they were interesting. And with prices this steep, only a certain class of people could afford to live here.

By the time they finished, over two hours had passed—far longer than Kyousuke's breezy thirty-minute run earlier that day.

Just like in the morning, once the neighbors finished chatting about real estate, they immediately started calling each other again.

This time, though, the hot topic wasn't housing prices but bestselling author Kyousuke and his trio of beautiful housemates.

For the neighborhood's gossip-loving housewives, this was a thousand times juicier.

'Who would end up as Kyousuke-kun's girlfriend?'

The debates began immediately, each woman offering her pick and reasons:

"It has to be Miss Yamauchi! She graduated from that elite Shirayuri Academy. So well-mannered, and her smile—just being around her warms your heart!"

"She's like a little sunbeam," declared Mrs. Oda, whose husband was a dentist.

"No, no, Yamauchi's too bubbly. Men don't like that. Nishimiya's the ideal wife—quiet and gentle. Just looking at her makes you want to protect her," insisted Mrs. Takemura.

"Ueno is my favorite. She taught me several new knitting techniques I'd never even heard of. Girls who can do traditional crafts are so rare these days!"

"I'm telling you, it's Yamauchi. Being with her just lifts your spirits!"

"…"

The discussion sometimes got heated, but it always stayed good-natured.

Even the housewives known for their risqué jokes couldn't bring themselves to speak ill of the girls after spending just a little time with them.

Gossip was fun, sure—but nothing beat wholesome, literary intrigue.

And for a while, the ladies had been worried that Kyousuke's house might get turned into a rental unit like so many others in the area—Mejirodai Artisan Apartments, Seifu Manor, Fukujusou, and the like, all filled with students from nearby schools.

But now that it was clear who the real residents were, they were more than relieved. If anything, they believed the area's "spiritual energy" had improved.

Who knows? Maybe their own kids would start doing better in school now.

After the visits, Kyousuke had zero desire to cook dinner. He stopped Sakura—who was eager to show off—and also reined in the more sincere offers from Shouko and Naoka.

The four of them strolled leisurely down the street.

It was already 5 p.m. Since most of the residents weren't the kind to work long hours, the quiet roads now buzzed with life—luxury cars gliding into garages, and kids returning from tutoring and afterschool clubs in twos and threes.

What reminded Kyousuke that he was still in Japan was the absence of savory food smells wafting from homes.

Anywhere else, the air would've been thick with the scent of dinner by now, and his stomach would've gone into full revolt.

The streets were so clean, you wouldn't even find a coin lying around.

Strangely enough, though she'd eaten the second most at lunch, Sakura was now clinging weakly to Kyousuke's arm, moaning that she couldn't walk another step.

They were heading to a small French-style restaurant that Kyousuke had found on Tabelog, which had a modest rating of 3.29.

Not a full-fledged French restaurant, but rather a cozy little family-run place that served French cuisine a uniquely Japanese spin, really, with all kinds of homestyle eateries offering international dishes.

The restaurant was called MACHON, with its storefront facing a main road, but also accessible via a back entrance from the residential street.

Out back were a few decorative bicycles and a chalkboard announcing the Thursday specials—pork offal, duck leg, that sort of thing.

Kyousuke glanced at it once, then stepped right in. He never fussed over ordering.

As expected of a Japanese family restaurant, the interior was quite compact.

The ceiling was barely two and a half meters high, which constantly gave Kyousuke the sense he might hit his head.

Actually… that wasn't just a feeling.

Despite the cramped space, someone had decided to install chandeliers to give it a French flair—an impressively misguided stroke of genius.

The tables were neatly covered with white cloths, and a blend of warm yellow pendant lighting and white counter lights lit up the space just enough to make it feel cozy.

There were already two other groups dining.

Once the proprietress confirmed they hadn't made a reservation and it was their first time here, she warmly welcomed them in and began enthusiastically describing the chef's recommendations of the day.

The chef, it turned out, was her husband.

The menu was handwritten on a large blackboard, covered top to bottom in chalk.

Sakura, Shouko, and Naoka huddled in quiet discussion and ended up ordering so much that the proprietress gently advised some restraint.

"It's okay, we can eat a lot!" Sakura declared proudly.

Just this morning, they'd polished off a table full of food, and Kyousuke had no problem finishing it all.

That was why eating out with him was the best, you could order whatever you wanted without worrying about wasting anything.

The Japanese chef, who had studied in the UK, was genuinely skilled.

Kyousuke especially enjoyed the pan-fried green pepper omelet from Chiba Prefecture.

Sakura, on the other hand, fell in love with the pickled cucumbers and olives from the appetizer platter.

When she learned they weren't available for takeout, she immediately decided she'd come back every week just to have them.

By the time they stepped back out onto the street, the streetlights had come on.

The sun had already set completely, but a soft twilight glow still lingered in the sky.

A flock of plump pigeons fluttered by overhead—during the day, they'd loiter in parks and shopping streets, scamming food by acting pitiful or downright thieving.

In that sense, they weren't much different from the group of friends now strolling together, full and content.

"Ugh, I'm stuffed. Shou-chan, you really liked that chocolate cake, huh? You ate the whole thing," Sakura teased, swinging a bag of pickled veggies the restaurant had given them as a gift.

"Totally! Shouko, you've already put on a pound just today!" Naoka chimed in dramatically from the back, for once teaming up with Sakura.

Nishimiya Shouko, licking the whipped cream off a freshly bought strawberry crepe like a kitten, froze mid-bite.

She stopped walking, her face stiffening in mild horror.

Lowering her head cautiously, she peered down at her stomach. With her free hand, she smoothed her T-shirt over her skin.

Wait… was that a bulge?!

Her stomach, which had been perfectly flat just this morning, now had the faintest curve to it.

It was barely noticeable—no one else would have seen it—but now that she was focused on it, she couldn't unsee it.

"Kyousuke-kun… this…" Shouko murmured, her eyes turning into teary spirals.

She reluctantly held out her half-eaten crepe to Kyousuke.

The sliced strawberries nestled in the cream looked especially delicious. Ugh—she'd been saving the best part for last!

"Please… I entrust this to you." Her voice trembled like a delicate whisper in the breeze.

"Heh, no need to trouble Kyousuke! I'll take care of it for you~" Sakura grinned mischievously and reached out, ready to snatch the treat for herself.

"You ate way more than Shouko," Kyousuke said flatly, knocking Sakura lightly on the head.

He'd already decided: at least a twenty-minute walk before going home to work off that meal.

"Don't worry about it. Everyone's stomach bloats a little after eating," he reassured Shouko.

"No, it's fine. Kyousuke-kun, you eat it," she insisted, firmly pushing the crepe toward him.

Be strong, Shouko! You're not going to be the only one who gets fat alone!

"Haha, fair enough. It's probably better not to eat too much at night anyway," said Kyousuke—conveniently forgetting that he usually snacked every evening.

Laughing and chatting, the group made their way toward Mejirodai Sports Park in Bunkyo Ward, just south of their neighborhood.

They weren't in a hurry.

As they walked, Kyousuke pointed out local stores and amenities to the three girls.

Hospitals, fruit stands, convenience stores, grocery markets… and of course, all those oddly named roads like Kusuriyanazaka and Kiyotosaka.

They passed a flower shop, and Kyousuke bought a bouquet of lilies the color of tachibana blossoms.

The moment they saw the flowers in his hand, the three girls all looked touched by nostalgia.

"It's been a long time since Kyousuke bought flowers," Sakura said softly.

"Yeah, I remember in elementary school, there was always a fresh bouquet in the vase at Kyousuke-kun's house," Shouko added with a gentle nod.

That memory occupied a big space in her heart.

Back then, whenever she visited his house, the first thing she'd do was check what kind of flowers were in the vase by the TV.

At first, she thought his mom had bought them—but later found out they were from Kyousuke himself.

Sometimes they were store-bought lilies, carnations, or camellias.

Other times, they were nameless white wildflowers he'd picked by the river.

Ever since they met, there had always been flowers in his home.

But once he moved to Tokyo, not a single bloom had appeared in his tiny bachelor apartment—not even a vase.

Sakura recalled, "Back in third grade, when I first met Kyousuke, he already had that habit."