A Door Left Open and a Pop Idol in the Bathroom

I set my alarm for 5:30 a.m. I don't usually expect visitors, so my place is always a little... lived-in. Meaning messy.

But Kiyara said she'd be arriving by 10:00 or 10:30, so I had just enough time to make the apartment look less like a crime scene.

Might as well prep some snacks too. First impressions matter, right?

While sweeping up potato chip dust from under the couch, I heard some commotion outside—loud voices, parked news vans. Maybe some politician or VIP is visiting our area. Great. I just hoped it wasn't Kiyara showing up with fanfare at 9 in the morning.

By 9:00, the place was nearly spotless. Snacks were ready. I checked the fridge.

Low on milk. No cold drinks. Out of butter and eggs. I should've noticed that earlier. But hey, I still had time. Quick market run.

The market was packed. Summer sale, festival prep, some kind of stage being set up—chaos. I grabbed some milk, eggs, and a few bottles of cola. No idea what Kiyara's mysterious student likes, but between milk and cola, I figured one would hit.

While navigating the crowd, someone called out.

"Krish! Long time no see!"

I turned. "Oh..." I paused, trying to recall the name.

"Sehyith?"

"Wow. You actually remembered my name!" she grinned.

"I'm impressed."

"Barely," I admitted, rubbing the back of my head. Her name had always been tricky for me to remember. "How've you been?"

She shrugged, then replied with a bit too much cheer.

"Broke up with my boyfriend earlier this month. He was cheating."

"...You don't seem that upset?" I asked quietly. News like that should hurt, right? At least I thought so.

I've never been in a relationship to know for sure.

"He was the one who pursued me. I never really felt much during the relationship, so... good riddance, I guess." She glanced away.

"Better to know now than later. Besides, I'm over the dating crap."

"Fair enough," I said with a nod.

She smirked. "So... how's Kiyara? You two dating yet?"

I somehow choked on air. "What?... No! We're just... friends."

"Mm-hmm." She raised an eyebrow. "So... would you date me?"

She asked casually. I froze for a second.

"You just said you're not interested in dating," I pointed out.

"Oops. Slipped my mind," She said with a laugh.

"Anyway, I'm shopping with my sister. Pajama party at our place tonight. What about you? Didn't think you were the cola-drinking type."

I held up the bottles. "Got a visitor coming. Not sure what they'd prefer, so milk and cola it is."

She stared. "You seriously expect guests to enjoy warm milk in this heat?"

"I would," I said simply. And it was true.

"I don't have visitors, so I can't say what others like. Kiyara just grabs whatever's in my fridge. So..."

She snorted. "You haven't changed a bit. Don't ever. There's a weird charm in that."

I didn't fully get it, so I just nodded.

She asked me to tag along for a bit. I had half an hour to spare, so I helped them carry bags.Okay... I pulled most of the load while her sister giggled the whole time.

Not bad.

"Thanks, Krish," She said, turning to me fully with an odd warmth in her voice.

If I didn't know her already, I might've misunderstood that tone.

"No problem, Seith," I said, handing her bags back.

"It's Sehyith. We've known each other three years and you still forget? That's rude."

She smirked.

"Oh, so calling me Krish is fine, but calling you Seith isn't?" I teased—though it was a genuine mistake.

We both laughed.

She waved and disappeared down an alley with her sister.

I made a mental note to visit them sometime.

When I got home, the front door was ajar.

I was sure I'd locked it.

Which meant...

Someone broke in.

My heart pounded. I approached slowly, quietly.

The living room was dark. Curtains drawn. Shoes on the floor.

Unfamiliar ones.

I took a breath, bracing myself to swing the door open...

"Ahh, the lights are working again!"

Click.

The lights flicked on.

And there she was.

Kiyara.

Of course.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?!" I barked.

She tilted her head, completely unfazed.

"Oh hey. You're back. We've been here for like, ten minutes!"

Ten minutes?

We?

When... and how... did they even get in?

"I went to the market," I said flatly.

"Someone ate all my rations." I shot her a look.

"How did you even get in?"

"Spare key."

She grinned like a toddler showing off her sandcastle.

"You gave it to me a while ago, remember?"

No. I didn't remember. I tried to, but...

Nothing.

"I saw snacks ready, so I helped myself. Hope you don't mind. They were delish!" She beamed.

I glanced at the plate.

Empty.

"All of it?" I asked, incredulous.

"They were just... too good to stop. I gave some to Yan too," she said, still licking her fingers.

"Yan?" I echoed, frowning at the unfamiliar name.

"Yeah! The student I told you about. She's changing in your bathroom. Hope that's okay."

She said it so casually, like she was announcing the weather.

"Wait. She's here already?! And changing... in my house?"

I could feel the panic rising. I've never had a girl visit, let alone change clothes in my house.

"Relax!" she waved a hand like it was nothing. "She's just switching into something casual."

I sighed. "Also... what kind of name is Yan? That's not common here. It's the kind of name I've only seen in novels or manga." I said this while heading toward the kitchen to put the milk and cola in the fridge.

Thankfully, I'd picked up extra snacks too.

"She's not Indian. She's Japanese. Ever heard of Yan Kirishima?" She grinned like she was about to drop a nuclear fact bomb.

I blinked.

Yan Kirishima?

The rising pop idol from Kyoto?

I remembered seeing a forum post about her just a few weeks ago during an anime expo recap.

"Wait... Kirishima? The pop idol?" I asked again. Just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

"Yup! The pop idol." She smirked. "You're an anime fan, right? You should be screaming."

And yes.

Yes, I was screaming internally.

I adjusted my glasses. "Shut up and let me think clearly for a moment."

She gave a small laugh, but her voice turned oddly serious.

"She came here to study. Couldn't handle school back in Japan—too many distractions. Here, she can focus."

That actually grounded me a little.

I exhaled slowly. "And her stream is...?"

"Arts. Literature," Kiyara replied, crossing her arms and pretending to adjust imaginary glasses like some smug professor.

I sighed. "And I'm the perfect tutor... why?"

Her eyes lit up.

"First of all, your grades weren't just 'above average,' they were top-tier. If I stare at your marksheet long enough, I might go blind."

"...Was that a compliment?" I asked, genuinely surprised as I looked at her properly.

"Second, you're my dear friend. I trust you." For once, she sounded serious.

Almost... tender.

Then, of course, the smirk returned.

"Plus, you watch anime and read manga!"

There it is.

I groaned. "Just because I watch anime doesn't mean I speak Japanese."

"No worries! You can learn from her!" she chirped.

That's not the point, damn it.

"Kiyara... how do I learn Japanese from her if I can't talk to her?"

No way she knows the local language well enough. And Japanese speakers often struggle with English too, right?

She scoffed. "She knows English, dumb shell."

"...Dumb shell?" I blinked.

What the hell is that even supposed to mean?

"I don't know. I just wanted to say it."

She waved her hand like the phrase itself wasn't worth examining.

My head was starting to throb.

I rubbed my temples, sighing.

"I need water. For my throat... and for my sanity."

"Here," said a soft voice behind me. "A glass of water. You said you needed it."

I turned.

She stood there with quiet grace.

Medium-length silver-gray hair, deep red eyes, skin like porcelain.

There was no mistaking her.

Yan Kirishima.

Even without makeup, she looked stunning. No wonder she was famous.

"I hope I'm not intruding," She said. Her voice was calm, gentle, with a faint accent.

"No... not at all." I took the glass and drank. "Thank you."

"I look forward to working with you, sensei." She said it softly, though her gaze didn't quite meet mine.

"...Me?" I blinked. Still dumbfounded.

"Who else, dumb shell?" Kiyara chimed in, slapping my shoulder.

"Stop calling me that," I muttered.

Yan giggled quietly. Apparently, she found the banter amusing.

"My name is Yan Kirishima. But please, call me Kirishima. I'm not used to being addressed by my first name," She said, formally bowing.

I nodded. "Would Miss Kirishima be okay?"

"That would be nice," She replied, offering a polite smile.

Kiyara grinned. "I'm still calling you Yan-chan. It's cute."

"It's alright, Kiyara-san," Kirishima replied.

Polite, but not exactly thrilled.

"Did you bring your study materials?" I asked.

"No... Kiyara-san told me I wouldn't need anything today. Just clothes."

She replied, gently adjusting a strand of hair behind her ear.

"...Clothes?" Why would a student bring clothes for tutoring?

"Oh yeah!" Kiyara said brightly. "She's living here now!"

I blinked as my glasses slid down slightly. "...What?"

"She'll be safer here than in the college dorms. Bullying, fans, creeps... your place is better." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

At first, I thought it was a joke.

Then I blinked again. Adjusted my glasses.

And noticed the bags.

Two suitcases. A few boxes. Not mine.

A Japanese pop idol.

My student.

And now, apparently... my roommate?

This isn't real life.

This is a slice-of-life manga, isn't it?