Chihiro Sengoku often complained that getting Mashiro Shiina to answer a call or reply to a message quickly was nearly impossible. Once Mashiro started drawing, she would become so absorbed that she forgot everything around her—and she rarely checked her missed call list afterward.
These days, if Mashiro replied to a message within the same day, Chihiro would silently marvel at how unusually free she must have been.
Not that Mashiro was particularly busy—she just loved spacing out. To be precise, she simply didn't pay much attention to things like her cousin's calls or texts.
Kotomi had heard this before and remembered it well, so when she called Mashiro now, she had no expectation of an immediate answer.
Worst case, she could just talk to her about the art exhibition tomorrow at school.
However, before Kotomi could even sit down properly, the call was answered.
Mashiro's soft voice came through the phone, "Kotomi, good afternoon!"
She sounded as gentle as always, but there was a noticeable hint of excitement in her tone.
Is getting a call from me on a weekend really that thrilling? Kotomi wondered before asking,
"Mashiro, did you get an acceptance email for the Tokyo National Youth Art Exhibition? The one sent to your email."
"Huh? Acceptance email? I wasn't paying attention. Let me check."
Just from Mashiro's tone, Kotomi could already imagine the puzzled, adorable expression on her face.
"Hmm… What was my email password again?"
"Wait… you don't remember?"
"I didn't register the email myself, so I used my cousin's. She told me the password, and because I was afraid I'd forget it, I wrote it on my palm."
"Hmm! Maybe it's still on my hand. Let me check…"
"Ah?! Kotomi, this is bad! I wrote it on my palm, but it's gone now!"
Mashiro's panicked voice came through the phone.
Kotomi sighed, covering her face with one hand. Writing a password on your palm…? Forget waiting this long—even just washing your hands after a meal would have erased it.
"Is Chihiro-sensei not home?"
"She went out to buy dinner. Oh, right! She told me before that writing the password on my hand wasn't reliable, so she wrote it down on the first page of a notebook. It should be easy to find."
"I never expected Chihiro-sensei to be this meticulous… Maybe she developed this skill after dealing with you—uh, I mean, after being trained by you. Anyway, hurry up and find that notebook." Kotomi chuckled.
From the other end of the call, Kotomi heard the sounds of frantic rummaging.
At first, it was fine, but after five minutes of continuous shuffling, Kotomi's expression slowly darkened. She had a sinking feeling about whether Mashiro would actually find that notebook.
Fifteen minutes later, the chaotic sounds finally stopped. Mashiro, now out of breath, admitted,
"Ko-Kotomi… I can't find the notebook. But at least there weren't any drawings in it."
Called it.
Wait… losing the notebook, and the first thing Mashiro worried about was whether there were drawings inside?
"I already knew you were going to say that ten minutes ago." Kotomi sighed helplessly. "Do you remember whose phone number was used to register the email? I'll guide you through resetting the password."
"It was my cousin's number. I remember her phone number! And she left her phone at home!" Mashiro's tone lifted slightly, as if expecting praise for remembering.
"Do you know her phone's unlock code?"
"I do." Kotomi didn't praise her, and Mashiro pouted slightly in disappointment.
"Then this will be easy. Click the 'Forgot Password' option on the login page, enter your cousin's phone number, and once the verification code arrives, enter it to reset the password."
Just to be safe, Kotomi explained the process in even greater detail. It was just a simple password reset, yet she found herself talking so much that her throat went dry—she felt like a teacher who had just lectured for four straight periods.
After finishing her explanation, Kotomi grabbed the half-empty bottle of water on her nightstand and took a long sip.
Aimi had left it behind earlier in the morning when they were watching a movie together.
"That sounds really complicated…" Mashiro murmured hesitantly.
Pfft—!
Kotomi, mid-sip, almost choked and sprayed water all over her bed.
She coughed hard, wiping her mouth while forcing a wry smile. "Looks like we can't do this over the phone. Alright, turn on your computer—I'll control it remotely and handle it for you."
"Do I need to do anything?" Mashiro asked.
"Just start up your computer, open Line on the desktop, and download the software I send you. I need it to remotely access your computer. Oh, and don't hang up! Once I reset your password, you have to write it down properly this time. If you lose it again, I'll… I'll…"
Kotomi trailed off, struggling to come up with a punishment. After a pause, she finally blurted out, "I'll spank you!"
Whether it was Kotomi's "threat" or something else, Mashiro suddenly became extremely cooperative, and the password reset process went surprisingly smoothly.
Before long, Kotomi successfully reset the password, making it something simple and easy to remember.
Since the email required both letters and numbers, she set the new password using Chihiro Sengoku's name initials, followed by "123456."
Mashiro carefully wrote it down and even took a photo of it, sending it to Kotomi via Line.
Kotomi glanced at the image, confirmed everything was correct, and sent back an "OK" before exiting the remote session.
However… while resetting the password, the system had required her to log in.
She hadn't meant to snoop through Chihiro Sengoku's inbox, but at a glance, she couldn't help but notice numerous emails from matchmaking websites.
Despite frequently insisting that she was "twenty-nine years old plus fifteen months," Chihiro was clearly using dating websites in secret, hoping to find a partner.
Yet… Kotomi had also noticed something else.
There were five matchmaking emails in the inbox—all of them unsuccessful.
The matchmaking site was brutally honest, displaying the results directly in the email subject line. Success or failure—it was right there in bolded text.
Kotomi hadn't even tried to look, yet it was impossible to ignore.
But there was something even more concerning.
When she logged into the email, the latest messages should have appeared at the top, marked with a blue dot to indicate unread mail.
Yet, when she checked… there was no email from the art exhibition confirming Mashiro's selection.
Now that Kotomi had logged out of Mashiro's computer, she couldn't check the email inbox herself. Still, she couldn't shake the curiosity gnawing at her and asked,
"Mashiro, did you see an email from the art exhibition after logging in?"
On the other end of the call, Mashiro sounded genuinely surprised. "Huh? Wasn't the selection email supposed to be sent on the 30th?"
"You remembered wrong—it's October 20th," Kotomi corrected her.
"But even if it's the 20th, today is only the 10th... That means it's too early for the selection emails to be sent, right? Wait—Kotomi, did you already get yours?"
"Yep, I got it. I was selected."
Kotomi's voice carried an undeniable hint of excitement. Though she had mostly calmed down, just the thought of her artwork making it into the prestigious exhibition filled her with so much joy that she knew she'd struggle to fall asleep that night.
"Congratulations!" Mashiro said, but as she stared at her inbox, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. Unlike Kotomi, she hadn't received an acceptance email.
At first, she thought she must have overlooked it. She meticulously scrolled from the top of her inbox to the bottom. In doing so, she even ended up skimming through all of Chihiro Sengoku's failed matchmaking notifications—but still, there was no sign of an email from the exhibition organizers.
Maybe mine just hasn't been sent yet? Mashiro wondered. But an unease crept into her heart. With her level of skill and talent, she had never once doubted her abilities. Unlike most participants, she felt no nerves about entering a competition hosted by two of Japan's top universities. Her confidence in her own artistry was unwavering. Otherwise, she wouldn't have showcased her technical prowess so boldly in her past manga submissions.
Even though her previous manga submission hadn't been serialized, every editor at Houbunsha who had reviewed her work had the same sentiment:
"In terms of artwork alone, Mashiro's skills are nearly unmatched in the industry. The compositions and details resemble fine art more than conventional manga. It's just… the storytelling is painfully dull. If her work were to be serialized, readers might admire the visuals but completely ignore the plot and dialogue."
When her family back in England heard she was participating in the national exhibition, none of them had shown concern. In their eyes, there was no doubt—Mashiro wouldn't just be selected; she would win the entire competition.
Admittedly, Mashiro had thought the same. Maybe I'll effortlessly take first place.
But now, for the first time, doubt crept in.
She hadn't received an acceptance email.
"Kotomi, are you absolutely sure you got your acceptance email?" Mashiro's voice trembled slightly, her forehead dampening with cold sweat.
Why?
Why wasn't there an email for her?
Had her painting been rejected outright, failing to even qualify for the first exhibition?
No…
Mashiro couldn't accept that possibility.
She had been looking forward to going to Kyoto with Kotomi, traveling together to each city hosting the exhibition rounds, and ultimately—competing against Kotomi to see whose artwork would claim the grand prize.
That was what she had been anticipating all along!
What Mashiro had been looking forward to wasn't victory—it was the journey itself, the experience of competing alongside Kotomi. But now, was she really being told that she didn't even have the right to start?
She double-checked the email address she had registered for the competition.
Still, no acceptance email…
Mashiro's vision darkened, and her body swayed as if she were about to fall from her chair.
"Mashiro! Mashiro! Mashiro!"
Just as she was about to lose herself in a spiral of emotions, Kotomi's voice jolted her back to reality.
"Mashiro, is your signal bad over there? I've been calling your name multiple times, and you weren't responding!" Kotomi's voice was unusually loud, worried that Mashiro hadn't heard her.
Hearing Kotomi's voice, a rare wave of sadness welled up in Mashiro's heart. She wasn't sure why she felt so wronged, nor did she know what kind of expression she was making.
Was it because she hadn't received the acceptance email? That's what she assumed.
"Mashiro, you didn't get the acceptance email?" Kotomi asked calmly, noticing the unusual tone in Mashiro's voice.
Kotomi knew that failing to receive the acceptance email meant rejection. But even if she had been rejected, she would never believe that Mashiro's artwork wouldn't make the cut.
Because Mashiro was a world-class prodigy in painting.
As Kotomi pondered for a moment, another possibility crossed her mind. She quickly suggested,
"Mashiro, check your spam folder."
To her surprise, Mashiro's response was a distressed, "I… I don't have a trash can in my room!"
"Uh…" Kotomi twitched at the corner of her lips, letting out a small chuckle before correcting her. "No, not that trash can. I meant the spam folder in your email. You know what that is, right?"
"Huh? Emails can get filtered as spam?" Mashiro's sorrow instantly faded, replaced by the curiosity of someone learning something new.
"Of course. Just like how phone messaging systems block spam texts, email services sometimes automatically flag and filter out suspicious messages."
"While this feature is useful most of the time, it can also cause problems."
"For example, if an important email gets flagged as spam, you might not even know you received it. All you have to do is open your spam folder and check—maybe your acceptance email is in there."
Kotomi patiently explained, realizing that Mashiro wasn't particularly tech-savvy when it came to email management.
Mashiro's voice perked up. "Could it be that my acceptance email got sent to spam?"
"It's possible. Open your—"
Smack!
Before Kotomi could finish, she heard the unmistakable sound of a palm slapping a computer. Hard.
"Mashiro, what are you doing?" Kotomi asked, puzzled.
"I'm disciplining this computer for daring to filter out my acceptance email!" Mashiro's tone had changed completely, now sounding like an angry little gremlin ready to tear the machine apart.
The poor computer is innocent… Kotomi thought, shaking her head with a helpless smile.
Following Kotomi's guidance, Mashiro opened her spam folder. Sure enough, buried within it was her acceptance email.
"Kotomi! I found it! It's the acceptance email! We can go to Kyoto together!"
"Yes!"
The two girls cheered excitedly, but then, a sudden realization hit them.
"Kotomi, did you remember wrong, or did I? I could've sworn the selection emails were supposed to be sent on October 30th."
"But I remember them being sent on October 20th."
Both girls stared at the acceptance email, which had arrived ten to twenty days earlier than expected, their heads filling with question marks.
What exactly is going on…?
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