Chapter 8. Connection

Chapter 8. Connection CHAPTER 8 Connection

“…Guys, I’m really starting to freak out,” Takeshi squeaked, eyeing Alisa’s apartment building with a jittery gaze.

It was the day of her birthday, so Masachika had met up with Hikaru and Takeshi to head over to her place together. And Takeshi’s anxious fidgeting was already wearing him out.

“Come on, it’s no big deal. It’s not like we’re the only ones she invited.”

“Dude, this is the first time ever I’ve been to a girl’s house…as far as I can remember.”

“Yeah… Me too, now that you mention it,” Masachika replied, tracing his memories. And Takeshi immediately shot him a piercing stare.

“Don’t lie to me. I know you’ve been to Yuki Suou’s house before.”

“Oh, right… That doesn’t count, though.”

“That doesn’t count, my butt! The only girls that don’t count are your relatives!”

Masachika simply shrugged, unable to reveal the truth that they were family, while Takeshi clutched his head as if he nobody could ever understand his struggles.

“Ahhh! What am I gonna do? What if I do something rude? Hey, are boys allowed to use the bathroom at girls’ houses?”

“Yeah, man. Of course. I know how you feel, though.”

“Hmm… Yeah, I’m not gonna be able to use the bathroom at her house, so I’m gonna go run over to the convenience store and use the toilet there now. Can you hold my stuff for me?”

“Uh? Yeah, sure.”

After taking Takeshi’s belongings, he watched his friend quickly disappear into the convenience store.

“…Is he really planning on holding it in until the party’s over?”

“Ha-ha. That does sound like something Takeshi would do.”

But right as Masachika exchanged a knowing look with Hikaru, he noticed two familiar figures in the distance heading their way.

“Hm … ? Oh, is that Touya and Chisaki?”

“Oh? Yes, it looks that way.”

Squinting at the approaching figures, Masachika saw the larger one—presumably Touya—wave. He returned the greeting, and as they drew closer, it became clear that it was indeed Touya and Chisaki, holding hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Once they were within speaking distance, Touya waved again.

“Hey, Kuze. You got here quick. What are you doing just standing out here, though?”

“Hey. Yeah, we’re just waiting for our friend.”

The four of them began exchanging greetings until Takeshi eventually left the convenience store…and froze the instant he saw Touya and Chisaki.

“Oh, hey. Takeshi Maruyama, was it? I guess this is the first time we’ve actually met.”

“Yeah, hey…”

Takeshi shrank back, lowered his head, then scurried over to Masachika and Hikaru’s side, casting the couple a timid glance.

“We haven’t gone inside, and you’re already nervous?”

“I can’t help it. I really look up to them.”

“Because they’re both taller than you?”

“I’m not talking about their height!” Takeshi whispered angrily, making Touya burst into laughter.

“Ha-ha-ha! That’s funny. But Kuze used to be the vice president in the student council when he was in middle school, and you’re fine with him, right?”

“Sure, but…”

“I’m basically no different than him, so don’t be so nervous. It’s not like I’m going to eat you. Chisaki might.”

“I’m not going to eat anybody! I might delete someone, though.”

“What is that supposed to mean? On second thought, don’t answer that,” Masachika remarked before immediately shaking his head. Their lighthearted banter continued until they reached the apartment building entrance. But after stepping through the automatic doors, they paused in front of the intercom panel and exchanged glances for some reason.

“…Do you want to do the honors, Mr. President?”

“No, I think you should do it. You know Little Kujou best, after all.”

The other three seemed to agree as well, so Masachika, as their representative, pressed the call button. After two rings, a click sounded, followed by Alisa’s voice.

“Hey. Come on up.”

The entrance unlocked with a buzz, prompting everyone to step inside.

“Takeshi, you’re way too nervous.”

While waiting for the elevator, Masachika turned at the sound of the voice to find Hikaru smirking at Takeshi, who was clearly restless. However, Touya, who appeared somewhat troubled as well, gave Takeshi’s shoulder a reassuring pat.

“Yeah, loosen up a bit.”

“I wish I could, but…Alya’s dad is Russian, right? So, like, what if something considered good manners in Japan is actually bad manners in Russia?”

“You’re overthinking this. Alya already said that her dad understands these things.”

“Sure, she might think her dad is understanding…but Alya’s his daughter, and they say fathers are usually harsh on their daughters’ male friends, right?”

Masachika instantly froze at the possibility, yet as the elevator arrived with a soft chime, he had no choice but to feign calmness.

“Wait. You have to know more about her dad than that, right? You said you met Alya’s mom before, right?”

“Yeah, during the parent-teacher meetings, but I’ve never met her dad before, and she hasn’t really told me much about him either… I only know his name.”

“Hold on. Why do you know his name?”

“That’s because…”

Just as Masachika was about to respond to Hikaru, the elevator reached its destination, so he let the others off first before following them.

“Uh… Which way is it?”

“This is room number one, so it has to be that way.

Masachika continued his conversation with Hikaru while following Touya and Chisaki as they led the way.

“Russian middle names are based on the father’s first name. So basically, you take the father’s name and add -vich for a son or -vna for a daughter to create a middle name. Technically, the suffixes can vary depending on the name, though. Like, you have -evitch or -ovich for sons, and -evna or -ovna for daughters…”

“Ohhh, cool. So Alya’s middle name is Mikhailovna…which means her father’s name would be Mikhail?”

“Most likely.”

“Interesting.”

“Anyway, that’s how I know his name.”

Just then, Touya and Chisaki abruptly stopped and glanced back at Masachika, drawing his attention to a nameplate that bore the Kujou family name.

“…Oh, I’m supposed to open the door, right?”

After being stared into submission, Masachika headed toward the door while Chisaki turned to Takeshi, who was still fidgeting nervously.

“Are you still nervous, Maruyama? Don’t worry about it. If you really can’t control your anxiety, then just imagine that everyone’s a tomato,” she suggested.

“I thought you were supposed to imagine everyone as a potato … ? I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good. Because it doesn’t matter if the person is homeless, the president, or even an evil villain. They’re all filled with the same red liquid and can be squished all the same. It’s not so scary when you think of it that way, right?”

“Yeah, now I’m only afraid of you.”

“Listen. Absolute confidence in your fighting skills—and the certainty that you could kill anyone at any moment if you wanted to—these are the keys to finding inner peace.”

“I’m not a fighter…”

Hmm… The fact that it only says ‘Kujou’ on their doorplate must mean that they don’t have separate last names. Interesting…

Doing his best to ignore the unsettling conversation happening behind him, Masachika rang the doorbell, and almost immediately, the door opened, revealing Alisa.

“Hey, thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting us. Happy birthday, Alya.”

“Thanks.”

Alisa stepped aside, giving them room to enter. As they walked inside, Masachika spotted a familiar, gentle face—Alisa’s mother, Akemi…and…

He’s freaking massive?!

Masachika barely managed to stop himself from staring wide-eyed at the large man standing next to her.

“…”

The man’s blue eyes, matching Alisa’s in color yet carrying a steely edge, bore into Masachika as he tilted his head back to meet that towering gaze. The man was enormous—standing well over 190 centimeters, possibly approaching two meters—with a frame as broad as it was tall. His neck was thick, and his jawline sharp as chiseled stone. He could have easily been mistaken for an action hero in some Western film…if it weren’t for his intimidating scowl.

Uh… Why isn’t he smiling? We’re welcome here, right?

The question inadvertently reminded him of what Takeshi had said earlier.

“They say fathers are usually harsh on their daughters’ male friends, right?”

A bead of sweat trickled down his back…when out of nowhere, a tiny Tomohisa, clad in a white robe like a god, appeared in his mind.

“Ho-ho-ho. Don’t sweat it, Masachika. Russians normally don’t smile, so don’t mistake his sullen look for anger, kiddo.”

Seriously, Gramps? Wait, since when did he start calling me ‘kiddo’?

After doing a bit with god-version Tomohisa (?), Masachika decided to put his faith into those words, allowing himself to recover from his almost one-second-long panic attack.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he smiled, greeting Akemi.

“Welcome to our home. It’s so wonderful to see you, too. Oh, do you think you could hang your jacket right there?”

“Oh, sure.”

Wait. What was the point of even buying a nice jacket if I’m just going to take it off now? Masachika wondered as he hung the jacket on the coat rack. He then slipped into the slippers he was given while Alisa closed the door and took her place beside Akemi.

“Let me introduce you. This is my mom, and this is my dad.”

“I’m Akemi. Nice to meet you all. Please make yourselves at home. Oh, allow me to introduce you all to him, too. This is my husband, Mikhail.”

Only after being introduced did Alisa’s father—who had been silent with a stoic expression until then—finally speak.

“Welcome…”

His voice was low and deep, his Japanese tinged with a bit of awkwardness. His expression, unsurprisingly, remained stern as well.

Is he seriously not mad…? Looking like that?

Masachika wasn’t the only one caught off guard by how curt and stern Alisa’s father was compared to her sweet mother—everyone’s greeting was timid, clearly intimidated by his imposing presence.

“Don’t worry. I can take him out if I have to,” Chisaki whispered.

Masachika couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just heard her mutter something downright chilling behind him, but he quickly brushed it off as a misunderstanding. Surely, she just meant she could take him out for dinner as a gesture of gratitude for his hospitality.

“Let me introduce you. This is Masachika Kuze. He sits next to me in class and is my partner in the election.”

“Hey.”

Reintroduced by Alisa, Masachika greeted Akemi once more, then braced himself before standing before Mikhail’s silent scrutiny.

“…”

I honestly just wet myself!

Alisa introducing him as her partner seemed to intensify Mikhail’s imposing presence…or so Masachika thought. Nevertheless, maintaining a veneer of cheerfulness, he greeted them courteously, prompting Mikhail to silently extend his right hand to him.

Ah, he wants to shake hands.

He grasped Mikhail’s extended hand—

Whoa?!

Masachika’s hand was caught in a surprisingly powerful grip, making his eyebrows rise instinctively.

Wh-what the…? Don’t tell me this is one of those smiling handshakes you see in anime where the characters try to crush each other’s hand?!

Just as he braced himself, imagining his bones snapping into fragments, god Tomohisa reappeared in his mind.

“Ho-ho-ho. You’re way overthinking this, kiddo. Russians generally have firmer handshakes than Japanese.”

Really? Is there no deep meaning to this? Seriously?

Masachika remained doubtful, unsure how much of Tomohisa’s explanation was true. Yet, to his surprise, Mikhail promptly eased his grip, almost as if to validate the claim.

“Could you go on ahead and wait for us in the living room? Masha, Sayaka, and Nonoa are already waiting.”

“Oh, okay.”

Masachika bowed before following Alisa’s direction down the hallway. Then, opening the door to a spacious living room, he found the three girls lounging on the couch.

“Oh, hey. Welcome to our home.”

“Good evening.”

“Yo, Kuze.”

“Hey… You two got here early.”

As Masachika approached them, he glanced at Sayaka’s and Nonoa’s belongings, confirming they hadn’t given Alisa her presents yet. But just to be sure, he leaned in to confirm.

“When do you plan on giving her your gifts? Because I want to give her mine then, too … ,” he whispered.

But it wasn’t Sayaka or Nonoa who answered him. It was Maria.

“We’re going to be giving Alya her presents after dinner when the cake comes out.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

The others gradually started to trickle in, so he discreetly shared the information with them as well.

“Looks like Yuki and Ayano are the only two left…”

The clock’s hands crept toward six PM , leaving just ten minutes before the official start of the party. Masachika tilted his head in puzzlement—Yuki’s absence was a curious anomaly, since she was usually punctual.

Then again, they’re driving here, so they might have gotten stuck in traffic or lost…

But after another five minutes slipped by, they were still absent. Only when the clock hit three minutes shy of six did the doorbell finally ring.

“It’s not like them to arrive this late,” Chisaki remarked while watching Alisa and her parents head to the door. As the others agreed, the sound of the front door opening and closing echoed down the hallway, quickly followed by the door to the living room opening.

“ … ?”

However, only Ayano entered the room, with Alisa and her parents just behind her. As Masachika began to wonder what was going on, Ayano gave a polite bow.

“I apologize for my tardiness.”

“It’s no problem. You’re still—oh, it’s exactly six PM , so good timing.”

“Thank you for your kindness. In regard to Lady Yuki—she had an urgent matter come up that she absolutely couldn’t avoid, so while she is extremely sorry, she will not be able to make it today.”

“Huh … ?”

Masachika grunted at Yuki’s completely uncharacteristic last-minute cancellation—especially on her friend’s birthday. Without missing a beat, Maria placed a hand on her cheek.

“Oh, my. It must have been extremely urgent for Yuki to cancel,” she exclaimed.

Maria’s comment immediately pressured Masachika to jump in to excuse Yuki as well.

“Yeah, she must have tried really hard to come, which is why she waited until the last minute to tell us.”

“…Yes, exactly.”

“I feel bad for her. She was really looking forward to this.”

After subtly emphasizing that Yuki surely didn’t want to cancel, Nonoa, understanding the intention, nodded and chimed in too.

“Well, Yuki’s family situation is pretty unique, after all. So, like, I’m totally sure there are emergencies that we couldn’t even begin to imagine.”

The others began to chime in with comments to the effect of “It’s too bad, but it is what it is.” Thankfully, it was a sentiment echoed even by Alisa, so it didn’t sour the mood in the least. Therefore, while breathing a sigh of relief, Masachika quietly checked in with Ayano.

“So? What happened?”

That question was based on the assumption that Ayano would be able to give details about this so-called emergency, since they were family…but to his surprise, she lowered her head with a slightly apologetic gaze.

“I apologize, but I cannot tell you that,” she mumbled.

“Uh … ? Oh.”

Although he was a bit taken aback, Masachika reluctantly gave up.

“All right, is everyone ready to get started?” Alisa asked, drawing everyone’s attention. Alisa bowed gracefully, her gaze sweeping over the group with a heartfelt, almost sentimental expression. Then, her lips curved into a smile as delicate as a flower and she exclaimed:

“Thank you all for coming to my birthday party. I really hope everyone has a wonderful night.”

Masachika immediately applauded.

“Happy Birthday, Alya!”

“Happy birthday!”

“Happy b-day!”

Alisa’s birthday party kicked off as cheers and applause filled the room, her shy, sweet smile tinged with warmth.

Ah, yeah. This is the taste. It’s almost nostalgic…

Half an hour into the party, the table was laden with dishes Alisa had prepared with Akemi’s help. Among them, Masachika found himself staring at the borscht Alisa had made, caught in a strange reverie as memories surfaced of the borscht that she had cooked for him when he was bedridden with a cold before summer vacation.

Though this version featured beef along with a few other ingredients, its distinctive sweet-sour essence remained unchanged.

It’s really good.

Just as he emptied his bowl of borscht, another plate—heaped with food—was swiftly set down beside him.

“Thank you…”

He bowed, then peered at the silent man by his side—still as intimidating and expressionless as ever. Not a single word had left his lips, yet his hands had been steadily filling Masachika’s plate since they’d started eating.

What is going on?! Is he welcoming me?! Or is he testing me?! Is this one of those “What?! Is the food I’m giving ya not good enough for ya?!” kind of things?!

Masachika’s eyes darted around for help, but Maria and Akemi were deep in conversation at the same table while Ayano was focused on her pasta.

Why me?

Masachika lamented his fate while casting a sidelong glance at the lively adjacent table.

The divided seating arrangement was to blame; since there wasn’t enough room for twelve people to sit at the main table, there was an improvised tatami-style area with a folding table and cushions to accommodate more people.

Alisa, being the birthday girl, sat at the head of the main table while her parents sat on either side. Ayano then sat beside Akemi with Masachika next to Mikhail, while the seven others sat in the tatami-style area. Although Masachika was initially not so excited about having to sit next to Alisa’s father, he soon resigned himself to his fate. The real issue began a few minutes ago…when Alisa switched places with Maria to go talk to the others.

I mean, she is the birthday girl, so I get it. It’s only natural for her to mingle with her guests.

Masachika understood the logic behind it, and seeing Alisa surrounded by her friends and smiling happily should have filled his heart with joy…but sitting next to her father left him feeling nervous. To make matters worse, her father kept piling more food onto his plate, even though his stomach was already about to burst.

Uh… I believe they call this beef stroganoff? I know the name, but this is the first time I’ve ever tried it…

Masachika scooped up some mushrooms and beef from the light brown cream soup with his spoon and took a bite, and his eyebrows went up in astonishment at how tender it actually was.

Hmm? The name made it sound like it was going to be tough, but this tastes more like the inside of a beef cutlet…or a braised hamburger steak?

Regardless, he knew one thing for sure—this was going to be filling. Even if he managed to finish what was in front of him now, the next helping would be a challenge, especially with cake still in their future.

Which means I’m going to have to start turning down some food.

But refusing food frightened him, especially since he couldn’t figure out what Mikhail was thinking.

As a child, Masachika’s communication skills had been trained with the expectation that he would one day become a diplomat. Through practical exercises, he learned the value of having a conversation and how most people in the world could get along, as long as they put an effort into getting to know one another. He’d also discovered that he could make a meaningful connection with most people, whether they were powerful politicians, charismatic CEOs, or even well-known celebrities.

Whether he actually wanted to converse was another matter, and just because he could act like he was enjoying himself didn’t mean he wasn’t actually intimidated. Despite having a wide network of acquaintances at school, his narrow personal circle was proof that he wasn’t one to actively seek deeper connections. In short, he was reluctant to bond with strangers and, if possible, avoided engaging with people who intimidated him.

But now’s not the time to keep to myself.

Sensing that Mikhail was about to give him more food, Masachika mustered up all his courage.

“Oh, I’m full. Thank you, though.”

Mikhail stared down at Masachika from high above, making the boy inwardly yelp. However, determined not to let his intimidation show, Masachika quickly asked, “By the way…would it be okay to ask you for your full name?”

Mikhail tilted his head slightly before answering.

“Mikhail Makarovich Kujou.”

His Russian accent was so thick that anyone other than Masachika probably would have had to ask him to repeat his name a few times. Masachika, however, showed absolutely no sign of being flustered.

“Thank you, Mikhail Makarovich.”

Seeing Mikhail’s eyes widen in surprise filled Masachika with a surge of triumph.

Yesss! I did it! I remembered! You don’t call people ‘mister’ in Russia to show respect. You call them by their first and middle name!

He decided to carry on the conversation with a feeling that he was off to a good start.

“You have the same last name as your wife, right? Does that mean you changed your last name when you got married?”

Mikhail nodded.

“Interesting. I heard that many people keep their last names when it comes to international marriages, but is there a reason you decided to change yours?”

However…Mikhail remained silent, his gaze shifting elsewhere, making Masachika wince.

Ack!! I must have picked the wrong topic!!

He had simply asked a question about something he was curious about, but perhaps it was a sensitive topic, so he decided to go for a rebound and come up with another subject instead when—

“A—”

Mikhail suddenly spoke, making Masachika flinch and look up. Then, in awkward Japanese, Mikhail muttered:

“Alisa… How’s school?”

“…Are you asking me how she’s doing at school?”

Mikhail’s nod gave Masachika a quiet sense of relief, sparing him from the pressure of having to come up with a topic on his own, so he shifted his gaze to Alisa.

“Hmm… Well, she is well-known as a model student who takes her schoolwork seriously. She’s hardworking and puts a hundred-percent into everything she does, and I think those qualities earn her a ton of respect from everyone around her.”

Masachika found himself genuinely relieved that Mikhail didn’t ask him this when Alisa was still sitting with them.

“But because of that, she used to come across as a bit too perfect and that made her somewhat unapproachable. But lately, she’s been warming up to her peers, and it seems like she’s a lot more social.”

Mikhail remained silent the entire time Masachika was speaking, staring intently at him, causing him to grimace inwardly.

Why isn’t he saying anything? Why is he being quiet when he’s the one who asked?!

Masachika, panicking internally, started to wonder if this was really what Mikhail was asking about, but before a full-blown meltdown could set in, god Tomohisa swooped in to save him once again.

“Ho-ho-ho. Do not worry so much, kiddo. Unlike Japanese, Russians don’t nod or give verbal acknowledges while someone is speaking—they simply listen in silence.”

Are you sure?! Are you really telling me the truth, or are you just telling me what I want to hear?!

By now, it seemed like he was just making things up to make Masachika feel better, prompting him to mentally grab the mini Tomohisa in his mind and shake him like there was no tomorrow.

“Uh… Last semester, she seemed to struggle speaking in front of others, but she was able to speak in front of the school at the school festival with remarkable confidence. In other words, she seems to have overcome her fear of public speaking, making her an even more promising candidate for the next student council president. Plus, she has a surprisingly open mind. She respects and accepts people who are different than her, and that’s something I genuinely admire about her.”

The longer Mikhail remained silent, the more Masachika continued to ramble, desperately racking his brain to avoid running out of things to say, but his voice unconsciously grew louder and louder until it wasn’t only Mikhail listening to what he had to say.

“Oh, my. I had no idea you felt that way about Alya.”

As Masachika passionately extolled Alisa’s virtues, Akemi’s voice interrupted him, halting his praise mid-sentence. He froze, awkwardly glancing at her, only to find her in the seat diagonally opposite with her cheek resting on her hand, smiling warmly. Maria and Ayano were also listening intently…which was when the silence finally registered. He timidly turned to face the others in the tatami-style area to find a crowd of curious and amused faces watching him. There was at least one person in particular who was blushing with a downcast gaze.

Oh, gosh. Someone, please kill me.

As negative thoughts swirled in his now completely blank mind, a chuckling Akemi turned her gaze to Mikhail.

“ Giggle. You have no idea how happy that makes me. You too, right, darling?” After Mikhail nodded in agreement, she gently narrowed her gaze at Masachika and continued, “I have to apologize for him, Masachika. He can only speak basic Japanese, and he’s not much of a talker, either, so it must have been hard having a conversation with him. This is the first time Alya’s brought all of her friends over like this, too, so he seems to be more nervous than usual.”

“O-oh… Uh…”

“But thank you for trying to talk with him. You must be thrilled, right, honey?” Akemi asked, prompting Mikhail to look down at Masachika with his usual blank expression.

“Yes… Very happy,” he confirmed.

“Oh… Um…”

But beneath Masachika’s strained smile was a young man screaming internally with all his might.

So he’s just shy + he can’t speak that much Japanese?! That’s it?!

Masachika immediately seized god Tomohisa—who was attempting to flutter away with a dismissive laugh—and violently slam-dunked him onto the concrete. In the same mental sweep, he exiled the snickering devil Yuki to the furthest recesses of his consciousness for good measure, too.

While glancing sideways at Masachika—who was enduring an embarrassment the likes of which he’d never experienced before—Alisa kept her gaze lowered and bashfully whispered:

“ < Dummy. > ”