A Love Stronger Than Whispers of the Past

Throwback (1): No More Rental Girlfriend

As they walked out, Hana, elbowing Chizuru playfully, remarked, "You know, Chizu-chan, you ain't half bad when you're not busy channeling a porcelain doll."

Chizuru chuckled, a real, unforced laugh that made even Master raise an eyebrow. "And you, Hana-chan, are more than just a walking sugar rush. You've got more depth than a bottomless cup of espresso."

Suddenly, Master, bowl of rice abandoned, leaped from his seat. "Did someone say bottomless espresso? This old man ain't dead yet!"

Ami facepalmed. "Papa, don't you dare..."

As Master and Ami descended into their usual bickering routine, Chizuru and Hana exchanged a knowing smile. Perhaps, just perhaps, this wasn't the last chapter in their unlikely friendship. 

The problem is, they weren't friends. They are (pretty) close relatives.

College Festival?

The air crackled with nervous energy as Kazuya Kinoshita, Chizuru Mizuhara, Shinichi Sakurai, and Hana Uzaki huddled around a cluttered table in the college festival planning room. They, a mismatched team united by the capricious hand of fate, had been tasked with concocting a presentation unlike any other.

Kazuya, ever the Casanova-in-training, coughed dramatically. "So, ladies and gentlemen, what shall be our masterpiece? Something to tickle the funny bone, perhaps? Or maybe..." he leaned in conspiratorially, "a heart-melting ode to romance?"

Shinichi, blushing to the roots of his hair, mumbled about the importance of educational content. Hana, bouncing in her seat with barely contained exuberance, voted for karaoke thunderdome. Chizuru, radiating glacial elegance, suggested a dignified showcase of historical artifacts.

Needless to say, the initial brainstorming resembled a toddler's art project gone rogue, but finished. Kazuya and Shinichi, despite their differing levels of vocalization, discovered a shared territory of... shall we say, "appreciating the finer aesthetics of the female form."

"She needs to be like a goddess," Kazuya sighed, picturing his ideal woman. "Long, flowing hair, eyes like sapphires, and a laugh that could make angels weep. "

Shinichi, his voice barely above a whisper, chimed in, "My muse, she must be the epitome of grace. A delicate dance of poise and intelligence, a smile that could light up a moonless night. "

"Senpai, you are a BAAAD storyteller. Kazuya-san, your perversion could be considered as a harassment!" Hana, sensing the boys' eyes, traveling up-and-down, right-to left. Suddenly, Chizuru and Hana, who had been exchanging whispered anecdotes, burst into laughter.

 "Sounds familiar, boys?" Hana teased, eyes twinkling.

"They always get up to the same kinds of trouble," Hana winked at Chizuru, who rolled her eyes playfully. "Remember that time at the beach when you convinced me to try that seaweed mask, and we ended up looking like green swamp monsters?"

"What do you mean?" Kazuya stammered, scratching his head.

Kazuya shivered, feeling a strange pull towards both women. "Yeah, there's definitely something there. You both have this way of... captivating an audience, holding them on the edge of their seats. I forgot you knew each other since middle school."

Chizuru's smile widened, " The truth is... we each had passion for theater! Hana-chan practically grew up backstage, soaking up every lesson my grandparents offered. You could say acting is in her blood, just like it is for me."

Kazuya's eyes widened in realization. "Wait, are you saying... Mizuhara-san, is related to the Uzakis?"

"Nah, more like the Ichinoses to the Shirasagis. Second cousin?" Hana cut in, grinning mischievously. "Technically, yeah! But trust me, we're more like sisters. Auntie Yumi, a relative of both Grandpa Katsu and Granny Sayuri practically raised Chizu-chan after they, you know," she waved her hand vaguely, "passed away."