[Volume 1 Chapter 2] When I confessed to the girl I liked, her twin sister came along as a bonus

Chapter 2: The Younger Twin Seems to Really Exist

It’s a five-minute walk from school to the station, and six stops by train to my home station.

It’s not exactly a short commute, but it’s not overly long either.

Our high school is in the metropolitan area, so the trains get fairly crowded in the mornings and evenings.

On the way home, depending on the timing, the train can be packed with students heading back from school.

It’s not so crowded that you can’t move, but—around me, holding onto the strap, there’s an oddly empty space.

I used to feel self-conscious, wondering if I smelled bad or something.

But I quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

Simply put, I’m intimidating.

I’m 183 centimeters tall, decently tall, and though I look slim at a glance, a closer look reveals I’m fairly muscular.

I don’t even work out much, but my body just builds muscle easily, so here we are.

Above all—my sharp eyes and chiseled features make me seem scary.

Slight nearsightedness means I sometimes squint unconsciously, which makes me look even more threatening to others.

Of course, I’m not actually trying to intimidate anyone.

“…”

Suddenly, a salaryman sitting nearby catches sight of me and flinches.

He’s way too jumpy.

But I’m used to it by now, so being feared doesn’t hurt anymore.

Besides, I’ve got something to think about today.

Or rather, I’m brooding over it.

As the train sways, I narrow my sharp eyes even further, lost in thought.

Naturally, it’s about the confession after school today.

Tsubasa Yukizuki is a high-energy, outgoing girl. Sure, she cracks jokes and teases people.

But even with the limited contact I’ve had with her, I know she’s not the type to say something like that as a prank.

As I told her, she’s not someone who’d mock a guy who confessed to her.

Yukizuki is at the top of the school caste—practically the queen of the school.

A queen can’t rule by being reckless.

Back in the day, maybe a tyrant could’ve controlled a school, but not anymore.

If you can’t understand or care about those around you, if you can’t read the room, you can’t even stay in a group, let alone lead one.

That holds true whether you’re at the top or bottom of the caste.

In modern schools, the ones who rise to the top aren’t dictators—they’re democratic leaders.

Well, modern leadership theory aside, there’s no way Yukizuki would be so tactless as to mess with someone who confessed to her.

Which means…

Her response was genuine.

But I said “yes” to her proposal.

In other words, not a threesome—but seriously two-timing with her sister.

Wait, isn’t that, like, the best-case scenario—? No, that’s not it.

Ugh, am I insane or something?

With my already-misunderstood appearance, dating two girls at once would make people think I’m blackmailing them or something.

That’s right, I’m the kind of guy who gets misunderstood and feared.

But Yukizuki never seemed scared of me, always talking to me casually and letting me call her by her first name.

And on top of that, she’s an extraordinarily beautiful girl—

Sure, my reasons might be a bit shallow, but isn’t it only natural to fall for her?

I never thought a guy like me would fall for a girl like that, but I did, so what can I do?

That’s why I mustered the courage to confess, and now look at the mess I’m in.

Right after my response, some other girls came into the classroom and started talking to Yukizuki.

Obviously, I couldn’t keep discussing confessions, twins, or threesomes in front of them.

So, for now, I just headed home—

“…Hm?”

As the train stops at a station, a flood of passengers pours in.

They seem like college students, instantly Masaking the train feel cramped.

A few of them glance at me and flinch, but I ignore it.

Sadly, I’m used to scaring older people too.

“…”

Suddenly, I hear a faint voice.

Looking over, I see a girl right next to me.

No—she was pushed toward me by the college students who boarded.

A white sailor uniform—she must be from Shuka Girls’ Academy, the one mentioned earlier.

She has long, beautiful black hair, a beret, large black-framed glasses, and even a mask, so I can’t see her face.

Her expression isn’t clear, but she’s fidgeting nervously.

On closer inspection, the college guys are pressing against her with their backs, probably without realizing it.

For a delicate schoolgirl, it’s probably too much to resist.

She’s not even holding the strap, stumbling unsteadily.

If I leave her like this, she might end up diving into a seat.

“…”

Geez… it’s fine to be caught up in your conversation, but look around.

“Excuse me.”

I smoothly step between her and the college students.

I take the pressure of several bodies with my back while guiding her into the space I was occupying.

No need to hide it—I was on the basketball team in middle school.

Blessed with height and build, I was a regular from my first year.

I was especially good at battling under the basket, holding my ground in screen-outs to secure advantageous positions.

Even against bigger, heavier opponents, I never once got pushed back.

In a packed train like this, if I set my mind to it, I can claim any spot I want.

“Whoa…?”

The college students, who hadn’t noticed the schoolgirl, definitely notice me—a guy who’s annoyingly tall.

They seem confused by my sudden repositioning but don’t complain.

Masaking a scene by yelling would be a hassle, so silent pressure works best.

“S-Sorry…”

“No…”

The sailor-uniformed girl thanks me in a barely audible voice.

Not wanting to scare her, I give a curt reply and turn my face away.

If she sees my face, she might get even more intimidated.

“Kyaa!”

“…!”

Just then, the train lurches—and the sailor girl crashes into me head-on.

Boing—a ridiculous sound effect pops into my head.

Her chest presses firmly against me.

What size, what elasticity, what softness—!

Even through our uniforms, the sensation is overwhelming…

“S-Sorry…”

“No… my fault…”

I can only respond gruffly, still looking away.

The two massive mounds press even harder against me—it’s almost like she’s doing it on purpose.

Unfortunately, I’m loyal, so even this kind of service from anyone other than Yukizuki won’t sway my heart.

My body’s reacting a bit, but I’m a healthy high school guy, so forgive me.

The train continues to sway for a while—

When we reach my home station, the college students noisily head for the door.

Guess they’re getting off here too, I think, but I don’t care and exit the train.

Finally free from those two mounds, though I can’t help but feel a tiny bit reluctant.

Her chest… I wouldn’t have minded feeling it a bit longer…

No, wait. Calm down.

Boobs are important, but I’ve got bigger things to worry about.

Just moments ago, I was hit with the biggest dilemma of my life.

Will I even be able to sleep tonight…?

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…What the hell!?”

“Eek!”

I turn around at the sound of a small squeal.

“Hey, do you need something from me?”

It’s the sailor girl from earlier.

She’s been sticking close behind me, even after we got off the train and passed through the gate.

“If you don’t have a reason, why are you following me?”

“D-Do I need a reason to follow you?”

“Most of the time, yeah, you do!”

So she’s admitting she’s following me?

“If it’s about earlier, I didn’t help you expecting anything. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s part of it… but, um, didn’t you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Uh, um… well… sorry! This way!”

She grabs my wrist and starts walking.

Despite her meek appearance, she’s surprisingly forceful.

The sailor girl leads me to a corner of the station lined with coin lockers.

“P-Please wait a moment!”

“…Sure.”

I nod, and in front of me, she takes off her beret and black-framed glasses.

“They’re just for show.”

“Oh, really?”

They’re pretty plain glasses for a schoolgirl to wear as a fashion statement.

“And… oh, this too.”

She unties her black hair, letting it fall loose.

Finally, she removes her mask—

“Your name’s Fuuka, right? Tsubasa Yukizuki’s twin sister.”

“Wha—!? You said that before I even showed my face! Did you already know!?”

“With all this, it’s pretty obvious.”

A girl who isn’t scared of my appearance and drags me to a secluded spot like this? That’s not normal.

It’s sad, but it’s safe to say it’s impossible.

Seventeen years of living as an intimidating guy aren’t for nothing.

If there’s an exception—

It’d be the “Yukizuki’s sister” I just heard about.

I’m not that dense.

“I wasn’t sure, but I figured I’d take a shot. No loss if I got it wrong.”

“I-I see… So, you’ve heard from my sister—Yuzu-nee—then.”

“I heard, yeah…”

But seriously—no prior knowledge needed, they’re that alike.

I figured it out from her actions before seeing her face, but anyone would know they’re twins.

Their hairstyles, uniforms, and vibes are different, but their faces are identical.

Like, down-to-the-millimeter identical.

“If Yuzu-nee already told you, that makes this quick… Let’s go.”

“Huh? Go?”

Go where…?

“If you date Yuzu-nee, you get me as a bonus.”

“A bonus? You…”

“That’s why we’re going—to make you understand. No, I’ll make you understand with my body!”

“That sounds scary!”

Her phrasing is way too suggestive.

Today was supposed to be a normal day, but who could’ve predicted this whirlwind of events—not even a god.

---

High schoolers rarely take taxis.

I’ve probably never paid for one myself in my life.

But Tsubasa Fuuka casually hops into a taxi at the station and, just as casually, drags me along.

This girl, with her meek face, is living the high life.

After about a ten-minute ride, we get out and enter—

“Wow, nice view. It’d probably be even prettier at night.”

“…”

A famous hotel even a socially clueless high schooler like me recognizes.

I knew it wasn’t far from my station, but we’re in one of its rooms.

Not a suite, apparently, but still a room no high schooler with average means could afford.

“…Why am I here?”

“As you can see, I’m identical to Yuzu-nee in every way.”

“What’s that got to do with anything? Yeah… you’re definitely identical.”

Yukizuki’s hair is brown, Fuuka’s is black.

Without that and the uniform difference, I’d never tell them apart.

I’m not dense, but I’m not exactly observant either.

“Honestly, no matter how hard I try, I don’t think I could tell you and Yukizuki apart. If you want me to, you’d better give up now.”

“You’re… pretty blunt about it…”

Fuuka looks stunned.

But it’s better to be upfront than give false hope.

Clarity is best.

“…A lot of people try to tell us apart when they meet us.”

“That’s just basic courtesy.”

Not knowing who’s who is, objectively, rude.

But pretending to know when you don’t is just as bad, isn’t it?

“If you want me to try, I will. But I’m not confident.”

“Haha!”

Despite her reserved appearance, Fuuka bursts out laughing.

“We don’t mind if you can’t tell us apart. Honestly, it doesn’t matter.”

“Isn’t that a bit too carefree?”

I’ve barely spoken to Tsubasa Fuuka.

But I can tell—this girl’s trouble.

I’m overly blunt myself, but Fuuka’s definitely the weirder one.

“If we dyed our hair the same color, you’d really have no chance.”

“…You dye your hair different colors to tell you apart?”

“No, it’s just fashion. These days, dyeing your hair is pretty normal.”

“…”

Yukizuki usually wears her hair down at school, but sometimes she ties it up or braids it.

She’s definitely the type to care about style.

Her dyed hair is just an extension of that. Pretty standard.

“As long as the colors are different, it doesn’t matter who’s black or brown. But I’d look weird with brown hair. As you can see, I’m the quiet type, so black suits me better.”

“Well, it’s an easy way to tell you apart, so even I can manage that.”

“Hmm, I see.”

Fuuka nods and picks up the nearby phone.

“Hello, front desk? Could you bring some hair dye? Yes, some light brown shades, just pick a few.”

“Wait, wait! You’re gonna dye your hair like your sister’s now!?”

Does the hotel front desk really buy and deliver hair dye!?

It’s not like it’s room service… or is it? Is that normal for a fancy hotel?

“No, I just wanted to show you don’t need to tell us apart.”

“You don’t need to prove that! I get it—you and Yukizuki are identical. If you don’t care if I can’t tell you apart, that’s fine.”

“Good, then. Oh, excuse me—”

Fuuka says something to the front desk and hangs up.

“So, please take care of both me and Yuzu-nee for a long time.”

“That’s the thing!”

“W-What?”

“You heard, right? I confessed to Tsubasa Yukizuki. So why am I suddenly dating her sister too?”

Thinking about it, I agreed to two-time because I desperately want to date Yukizuki… but I never asked how Fuuka feels.

“Being told to date two girls like you’re a side dish—doesn’t that bother you?”

“No, not at all. You can think of me as a bonus.”

Fuuka shakes her head furu furu.

What is she even saying…?

“Who thinks of a person as a bonus? That’s arrogant as hell. Look, wouldn’t you be freaked out if someone told you to date a guy you just met?”

“I didn’t just meet you, Masaki-san.”

“…Huh?”

I can’t help but stare at her face.

I don’t have the slightest memory of meeting her before.

“I don’t recall ever meeting you…”

“What are you talking about? Here, look at this.”

“Your phone? Is it okay to look?”

She hands me her phone, and I check the screen.

It’s open to a photo app.

“…Huh? That’s me, isn’t it?”

It’s a side profile, but definitely me.

Judging by the background, it was taken on a train platform.

“I don’t remember being photographed like this.”

“Well, I remember taking it.”

“Of course you do! It’s right here… Wait, you took this secretly!?”

“S-Sorry…! I-I just couldn’t help myself…”

“…I’m not bothered by a secret photo, but ‘couldn’t help myself’ makes no sense.”

Fuuka looks teary and apologetic, Masaking me feel like I did something wrong.

Plenty of idiots take pictures of my scary face, so I’m used to it.

“But… following you around wasn’t enough. I wanted to see you even after I got home.”

“See me…? Wait, what did you just say?”

“It’s just that I’ve been stalking you, Masaki-san.”

“‘Just’!? Stalking!?”

“It means sneaking around, following someone, and Masaking them uncomfortable.”

“I’m not asking for a definition! You knew it’d make me uncomfortable and still did it!?”

“If I had the courage to face you directly, I would have. But all I could manage was secret photos and stalking…”

“…”

Alright, hold on.

I’m not dense, nor am I a straight-man comedian.

Let’s break down what Tsubasa Fuuka’s saying and get to the point—

“So… you’ve had a thing for me for a while?”

“Y-Yes…”

Fuuka turns bright red, kaaah.

Damn it, I messed up. I thought she was cute.

Of course she’s cute—she’s got the same face as the girl I’m crushing on.

“Sorry, let me explain properly. I don’t have any secrets, and I’m not trying to be coy. I won’t stress you out, Masaki-san. Being stress-free is my weapon.”

“Your weapon…?”

Sure, I’d rather she be upfront than beat around the bush.

“It was a refreshing spring breeze in April—”

“April?”

It’s only just turned June.

“I was riding the train as usual. Rattle, clatter.”

“Do you really need the sound effects?”

“Shuka Girls’ Academy has a lot of well-bred young ladies, but driving to school is generally prohibited. Unless there’s a special reason, of course—like the risk of being kidnapped for ransom or targeted by terrorists.”

“That’s a grim world…”

Do kidnappings for ransom even happen in this country anymore?

They might’ve been rare in Japan long ago, but with today’s advanced communication systems and security cameras everywhere, it’d be hard to get away with it.

And a young lady targeted by terrorists probably wouldn’t be casually attending school.

“Even wealthy heiresses can’t survive in this day and age if they’re clueless. If you can’t even figure out how to ride a train, you’ll just be seen as an idiot with no marriage prospects.”

“Hmm, is that how it works?”

It’s bold of her to openly call herself a wealthy heiress.

Judging by how casually she hopped into a taxi, she’s definitely not hurting for money.

“I’ve been diligently commuting by train since starting high school, but…”

“…”

I can see where this is going.

“I tend to attract weirdos pretty often. Two months ago, a middle-aged man in a well-tailored suit stood next to me on the train and started sniffing my hair, huff huff.”

“That’s either super shy or shamelessly creepy for a perv.”

Either way, he’s a creep.

Hope he’s ruined socially.

“But just sniffing hair is hard to prove as a crime. The nose doesn’t have an on-off switch, so you could argue sniffing is a natural state.”

“True, I haven’t heard of that one before.”

I’ve heard that victim testimony is key in molestation cases, but without physical contact, it’s tough to pin down the culprit.

“But that guy was blatantly leaning in, sniffing my hair with a sniff sniff. Honestly, it was creepier than if he’d groped me.”

“No, getting groped would be worse.”

I get that it must’ve been really gross, though.

Even from a guy’s perspective, that’s seriously creepy.

“That’s when you showed up, Masaki-san.”

“…”

I had a feeling the story was headed this way.

Thankfully, it wasn’t some twist where the sniffer was actually me standing nearby.

“You stepped in between me and the guy, just like earlier, and glared at him. Then you said, ‘Show me your business card and ID.’”

“…”

“I was impressed—a guy who orders a molester to do the one thing they’d hate most. You look tough, but you’re surprisingly strategic.”

“Are you insulting me?”

“No.”

Fuuka shakes her head furu furu.

This girl, with her meek face, has quite a sharp tongue.

But I could totally see myself saying that.

I’m confident in my strength, but I’m not some savage barbarian. Using force could backfire on me.

Of course, a regular high school guy ordering around a middle-aged man wouldn’t do much.

It only works because a scary-looking guy like me says it—makes it a real threat.

My appearance is mostly a hassle, but it comes in handy every now and then.

“…Wait, so because I saved you from a creep, you’re okay with being a ‘bonus’ and dating me?”

“I’m a teenage girl, you know? I’m not dating with marriage in mind, so I don’t need to be cautious. It’s easy to fall for someone.”

“B-But still…”

Fuuka just casually dropped that she likes me…

She looks reserved but says things so bluntly.

It’s Masaking me embarrassed…

“I get the story… but I can’t believe you’re okay with dating me just like that. Sorry, but it’s hard to buy right away.”

“Yes, exactly. That’s why I brought you here—to make you understand.”

“I still don’t get why you dragged me here.”

Somehow, Fuuka’s been controlling the pace this whole time.

“So… get to know me here.”

“…?”

Suddenly, Fuuka collapses onto the nearby bed like a puppet with its strings cut.

Her long black hair and knee-length skirt fan out across the bed.

“…What are you doing?”

“I’m not holding anything back. So, get to know me however you like, Masaki-san. Every inch of me, go ahead.”

“What am I supposed to do!?”

I’m not some fish on a cutting board!

Let’s be clear—I’m not desperate enough to do whatever I want with a girl I just met (from my perspective)!

“Look, Fuuka… I’m calling you Fuuka to avoid mixing you up with your sister.”

“Just hearing you call my name makes my heart go kyun kyun…”

Is this girl just a straight-up pervert without any deeper thought?

“Let me put it simply—value yourself, Fuuka.”

“It’s not worth holding back over.”

“…”

She answers without missing a beat.

Let’s be real—she’s worth holding back for.

Her face is identical to Yukizuki’s, who was chosen as a reader model, Masaking her a top-tier beauty.

And her figure is stunning—her chest sways tayun with the slightest movement on the bed.

If she used this as bait, she could hook any number of idiot guys.

Holding back could bring her endless advantages.

“Are you a virgin, Masaki-san?”

“I don’t really like girls throwing around words like that.”

“I’ll reflect on that. But if you’re hesitant to make a move, I can show you…”

Fuuka slips off the ribbon at the collar of her sailor uniform, slightly parting the front.

The cleavage of her impressive chest, already asserting itself through her clothes, reveals pure white skin!

She’s deliberately writhing on the bed, striking a provocative pose to emphasize her curves.

“Hey, stop that!”

“I’m pretty impressive once I strip, you know?”

“That’s exactly why you can’t!”

“But the skirt’s a bit embarrassing… so, Masaki-san, take it off for me.”

“…”

Fuuka lifts her knee-length pleated skirt slightly, revealing a glimpse of her white thighs.

I can’t help but swallow hard, gulp.

What is this?

From my perspective, a girl with the same face as the one I’ve been crushing on is sprawled shamelessly on a bed.

“This is your chance. A girl who likes you—and is pretty cute, if I do say so myself. Don’t you want to just… take her?”

“You’re saying some wild stuff.”

Could I just… go for it?

I’m not dense, but I’m not a complete blockhead either.

For a second-year high school guy to walk away from this situation without acting is something you’d only see in a manga or anime.

I have someone I like.

I only want to look at her.

But separate from romantic feelings, something else is welling up inside me.

So—

“Hold it right there!”

“Y-Yukizuki!?”

“Yuzu-nee!?”

“What’s with those shocked faces!? I’m the one who’s shocked!”

The door flies open, and Tsubasa Yukizuki dashes in like a cheetah chasing prey.

She must’ve rushed here—sweat drips down her face, and she’s breathing heavily.

“Fuuka! What the hell are you doing!?”

“I brought the guy we just agreed to date to a hotel.”

“…Looks like it.”

Yukizuki folds instantly at her sister’s blunt response.

Even the school’s queen might not be able to stand up to her little sister.

“A-Anyway! Put your clothes back on properly! And let me tell you, Masaki’s not so easy that he’d fall for something like this!”

“Really? He seemed a little tempted…”

Still lying on the bed, Fuuka glances at me.

Tch, this twin sister’s sharper than she looks.

That was close.

If I’d gotten tempted even a second sooner, Yukizuki would’ve caught me pouncing on Fuuka.

Even if I agreed to date both of them, tackling another girl in bed on day one would kill any love story.

“…”

“…Wait, Yukizuki, what are you doing?”

For some reason, Yukizuki wordlessly flops onto the bed.

The sight of two identical beauties side by side on a double bed is… quite something.

“I felt like I was losing to my little sister.”

“If you’re losing, isn’t it the moment you flopped onto the bed?”

“But this is your chance, Masaki… for that… th-three… ahh, that thing you wanted!”

“…”

“Oh, Masaki-san, you’re thinking about it. If you want to do it with both of us, I’m okay with that…”

“Being told that so boldly makes it harder to do!”

I’m not so depraved that I’d jump on both of them in this situation.

“…Yeah, you’re right.”

“By the way, Yukizuki, how’d you know to come here?”

“Fuuka messaged me. Said she was taking you to this hotel.”

“When did she…?”

Oh, she could’ve texted in the taxi on the way here.

“Still, the key? How’d you open the door?”

“You’re hung up on the details, huh.”

Yukizuki sits up on the bed with a quick motion.

“This hotel belongs to our family. Since Fuuka booked the room, I just asked the manager for a key.”

“Oh, this hotel’s yours—wait, what!?”

“It’s not a big deal, so don’t worry about it.”

“That’s an impossible ask!”

This fancy hotel belongs to Yukizuki’s family?

Is the Tsubasa family filthy rich or what?

“Well, thanks to Fuuka skipping a bunch of steps and messing with you, it’s easier to move things along.”

“I’m still not following.”

“You’ll get it soon. I’m not trying to be coy either.”

“You sound just like your sister.”

“Well, we are sisters. Come on, seeing is believing. Let’s go.”

“Go? Again?”

“Yup. Look forward to it.”

“…”

Where am I being dragged off to now?

Between the confession, meeting Fuuka, and this hotel, my brain’s already at its limit.

How much more are they going to put me through…?

I’m starting to regret confessing just a little.