Chapter Text
The school courtyard was packed. Parents chatted among themselves, children ran around in costumes, and the teachers were desperately—yet unsuccessfully—trying to organize the children for the rehearsal.
Mary Saotome, dressed in a perfectly pressed blouse and wearing her usual slightly irritated expression, walked down the hallway looking for her son. Haru had been missing for exactly seven minutes — long enough for Mary to imagine he’d already climbed a curtain or dismantled the dessert table.
Then she froze.
A few steps ahead, leaning casually against the wall, stood a tall teenage girl with long, straight white hair, wearing a navy-blue coat, arms crossed, observing the crowd with a piercing gaze.
Mary’s eyes widened.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
“…Ririka?”
The girl turned with a confident smile and one eyebrow raised.
“Hi? Sorry, are you talking to me?”
Mary froze.
The voice was different… firmer. But that face. Those eyes.
“Wait… Kirari?” she asked again, confused.
The young woman chuckled softly.
“Wow, you’ve already mistaken me for both my moms, and it’s been less than five seconds.”
“You… you’re not Ririka?” Mary asked, looking as if she’d seen a ghost — unsure whether this was déjà vu or a full-blown hallucination.
“No,” the girl replied, crossing her arms with a faint smile. “I’m Kira. Ririka’s daughter. Raised by Mama Kirari and Mama Sayaka.”
Mary blinked slowly.
“Oh…”
“It’s a common mistake,” Kira added. “Genetics run strong in my family.”
Mary still looked completely dazed.
“But you’re… identical. Same face, same way of looking at people.”
“It’s the Momobami blood,” Kira replied with theatrical pride. “We come as a package — intimidating presence and anime-villain face included.”
Before Mary could respond, a child shouted:
“KIRAAA!”
Little Ririka came running down the hall with Haru right behind her, both wearing shiny capes.
“Haru said he’s going to defeat the Ice Queen, and I’m the guardian of the magic crystal!” the girl announced, hugging her big sister’s waist.
Kira smiled and knelt down.
“Alright, but include me in the mission this time. Last time you saved the world without me.”
Mary watched the scene in silence, still processing it all. Kira looked so composed and mature… yet so much like Ririka that it made her stomach twist.
“You’ve grown so much…” Mary murmured under her breath.
Kira stood up, tossing her hair back.
“Time flies, doesn’t it?”
Then, with a playful smile and teasing tone, she added:
“By the way, pretty lady… I remember you — that time you said you’d drive me to the airport so I could go back to Thailand.”
Mary paled.
“Ah. That…”
“Relax,” Kira said, giving her a light pat on the shoulder. “It was the best lie of your life, wasn’t it? And thank you for taking care of me that day. I was really scared.”
Kira smiled with genuine gratitude.
Mary let out a nervous laugh, completely unsure where to look.
“You really are the daughter of all three.”
Kira nodded, walking away with the two little ones clinging to her arms.
“And proud of it.”
Sayaka appeared from the other side with a face that clearly said I can already see the chaos coming, and Kirari, of course, watched from a distance with a serene — and dangerously amused — smile.
And Mary? Well, Mary just sighed and shook her head.
“These Momobamis are going to drive me insane before the end of my life.”
The school festival was in full swing — kids running wild, teachers yelling names mixed with “don’t climb that!”, and parents fighting over front-row seats as if it were Black Friday.
Sayaka crossed the courtyard with forced grace, carrying her youngest daughter’s backpack. Beside her, Kirari moved slowly and elegantly, as if the school courtyard were a red carpet. But there was tension in the air. Kirari was far too quiet… which always meant one thing: impending social discomfort.
“You’re tense,” murmured Sayaka, glancing sideways.
“I’m not,” Kirari replied flatly.
“Oh, right. Because you always wring your hands when you’re totally relaxed.”
Kirari shot her a sharp look — Does Sayaka really know me that well?
A little ahead, Kira was chatting with Mary, while little Ririka and Haru played with toy swords.
The kids’ reunion was adorable — the moms’, not so much.
Mary did her best to keep her composure, but her eyes flicked nervously between Kira and Kirari. It was like seeing a ghost — and an unresolved past — all at once.
“Hello, Sayaka… Kirari,” Mary greeted, forcing a smile.
“Mary,” Sayaka replied politely.
“Mary,” Kirari echoed, cold as a blizzard.
Awkward silence.
And then, as if the universe wanted to make things worse — she arrived.
Yumeko Jabami.
As always, she appeared out of nowhere — a hurricane of energy with zero respect for personal space.
“HELLOOOOO, MY FAVORITE MOMS IN THE WHOLE WORLD!” Yumeko shouted, throwing her arms in the air. “WHAT A BEAUTIFUL FESTIVAL! EVERYONE’S HERE! AAAAAAAAH!”
Mary closed her eyes as if being tested by heaven itself.
Without missing a beat, Yumeko rushed straight toward Kirari, invading her space — as usual.
“You look amazing! That navy blouse, that distant gaze, that cold goddess aura… it makes me want to hug you!”
“Stop that, Yumeko!” Mary yelled at her wife, clearly annoyed by the lack of boundaries.
Sayaka, jaw tightening, stepped forward.
“I’d suggest not getting any ideas,” she said, subtly placing herself between them.
Kirari just smiled with half-closed eyes, visibly uncomfortable. Mary looked away — mentally screaming, Why did I marry her?! …Oh, right. I love her.
“You’re all acting weird…” Yumeko observed, glancing between them. “There’s tension here! Delicious, anime-level tension!”
“Yumeko…” Mary warned in a low voice.
“I’m just observing, Mary!” Yumeko said, leaning casually on Kirari’s shoulder — which made Sayaka spring into action, pulling her away at once.
“This festival is way more entertaining than I expected,” Kira commented from afar, sipping grape juice with the amused look of someone watching a soap opera.
“It’s like having your exes and your current girlfriend all in the same room,” Mary muttered, still unnerved by how much Kira looked like Ririka.
“I heard that,” Kira said, winking.
Meanwhile, Haru and little Ririka were climbing a decorated booth without anyone noticing.
“WHO WANTS TO BET WHICH KID FALLS FIRST?!” Yumeko shouted, thrilled.
Sayaka took a deep breath.
“If you don’t step away from my wife in three seconds, you’re the one who’s going to fall.”
Yumeko laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender.
“Ah, that delicious possessive tension… I love it. Sayaka, you haven’t changed a bit.”
“And you’re exactly the same… unfortunately,” Sayaka muttered, straightening Kirari’s blouse as if marking territory.
Kirari stayed silent, though her discomfort was visible from miles away. And Mary? She was sweating nervously, her heart beating faster than it should.
In the end, Haru toppled a cardboard display, Ririka shouted “Victory for the Momobami Clan!”, and Kira mentally noted:
Yumeko must be kept at least two meters away from Mama at all times — or Mama Sayaka might lose control.
The school festival was winding down. The colorful stalls were starting to come apart, balloons floated half-deflated, and some kids had fallen asleep in their parents’ arms, worn out from all the excitement. But in the center of the courtyard, where the late-afternoon light looked the most golden, laughter — and chaos — still lingered.
“Is this place a school or a battlefield?” grumbled Sayaka, dodging a child in a dinosaur costume who roared as they ran past.
“The line between the two is thin,” Kirari replied, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “I’m considering an escape.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” said Sayaka, grabbing her by the arm. “We still have two kids loose in this event and at least one reputation to maintain.”
Off in the distance, Kira — clearly ready to go home — was trying to stop her little sister from turning the school’s microphone into the “ultimate weapon of justice.”
“Riri, give the microphone back. The principal’s already looked at me three times.”
“I am Commander Ririka of the Momobami Clan! And this is my army!” the girl shouted, climbing onto a wooden booth covered in shiny paper.
“That’s a cotton-candy stand,” Kira whispered in panic.
Elsewhere, Sayaka clenched her fists.
“Ririka’s giving a speech on top of a booth?”
“Uh-huh,” Kirari replied, calmly sipping juice like she was watching a royal parade.
“You’re not going to do anything?”
“I’m observing an emerging leader. Could be useful later.”
“KIRARI!”
Meanwhile, Kira tried a more practical approach.
“Riri, look! If you come down right now, I’ll buy you two popsicles. One grape and one… I don’t know, lemon with sparkles or something.”
The girl paused.
“You’re not trying to bribe me with ice cream, are you?”
“Actually, I’m trying to prevent a full-scale government collapse across the entire school.”
It worked. The child leapt dramatically — right into her sister’s arms.
“Did I win?” she asked, sweaty, messy, still holding the microphone.
“Yeah, you won. The prize is not getting expelled for rebellion.”
Later, the four of them sat together on the grass — Sayaka holding an enormous cotton candy while trying to preserve her dignity, Kirari wearing a pair of sunglasses no one had seen her take, Kira holding two expired movie tickets, and little Ririka was counting how many ants were climbing up her left leg.
“It was a great reconnaissance mission,” said Ririka, excited. “We found out the kissing booth doesn’t actually have kisses, the dance stage isn’t kick-proof, and I can yell louder than the math teacher.”
Kira laughed.
“You really are going to take over the world, huh?”
“No. I’ll be the school principal. And I’ll allow swords in class!”
Kirari nodded, smiling.
“Mama’s proud.”
Sayaka sighed.
“Someone please hand me a sedative. Or passion-fruit juice with something stronger.”
Kira rested her head on Sayaka’s lap.
“Mom, you survived. And you didn’t even have to threaten Yumeko this time.”
“She didn’t show up,” Sayaka said, relieved.
“That’s because I told her if she tried hugging Mama again, she’d be in trouble,” Kira explained casually.
Kirari laughed, clearly proud.
“I taught you well.”
And there, on the grass — with ants crawling over their shoes and laughter echoing in the air — the Momobami family knew one thing:
Not every day would be easy.
But with ice cream, controlled threats, and love… they could handle anything.
“The school festival’s over, right?” Kira asked, already standing up.
“No way,” Ririka replied, raising her sword. “Now begins the night rebellion!”
Sayaka groaned.
Kirari helped her up.
“Come on, my love. Your army awaits.”