There’s nothing wrong with having tea with her brother’s betrothed, Ayaka thinks. This was something all friends did. Something all future sibling-in-laws did. She just has to pretend that she’s not looking at your lips as you sip at your cup. She just has to act like her breath doesn’t hitch when her fingers brush against yours as you both reach for a biscuit.

“Have you had a chance to read the poetry I recommended?” Ayaka asks. The love poems in particular, not that she says that out loud.