After Ai Hayasaka departed, Kaguya Shinomiya's dignified posture slackened like a marionette cut loose from its strings. Her spine curved against the leather chair, shoulders dropping beneath the weight of silk and expectation.
She gazed at the documents fanned across her mahogany desk, their crisp edges catching lamplight, and her rose-pink lips curled into an uncharacteristic pout.
One should understand—as the eldest daughter of the Shinomiya Family, her financial autonomy remained frustratingly constrained.
Being the eldest daughter did not mean she could indulge in everything the zaibatsu's wealth offered. On the contrary, while she basked in the prestige and convenience her bloodline provided, she was perpetually compelled to hone herself into something flawless. Something worthy of bearing the name of Japan's foremost zaibatsu.
Simultaneously, it was armor. Protection against the vipers coiled within her own family tree.
Her finances operated under suffocating restrictions—monthly allowances scrutinized, expenditures justified in triplicate. Ironically, Ai Hayasaka, her personal attendant, possessed more freely disposable income than she did.
However, because her stated objective was proximity to Hozuki Nozomi, her family had agreed without so much as a raised eyebrow.
Spending such exorbitant sums merely to place her in the same educational institution as him.
She was, in truth, simply riding the current they'd created.
Currently, Kaguya Shinomiya harbored only disdain and curiosity toward Hozuki Nozomi.
Disdain—because he was undeniably a scoundrel. The man already possessed fiancées, two of them, yet continued gallivanting about, ensnaring beautiful women like some collector of pokemon.
Curiosity—regarding his identity as a Divine Child and, more pressingly, his methodology for maintaining a harmonious harem. How did one juggle multiple romantic entanglements without the entire arrangement collapsing into jealousy and tears?
Beyond that, she intended to utilize Hozuki Nozomi. To leverage his influence, to tighten her grip on the Shinomiya Family's reins, to finally possess a voice that mattered.
Father has never praised me, she thought, crimson eyes darkening. Not once. Despite everything I've sacrificed.
Although Kaguya Shinomiya had toiled relentlessly—achieving excellence in academics, mastering piano and violin, cultivating artistic sensibilities, and training her body in martial disciplines until her knuckles bled—becoming the very image of a talented, noble, outstanding zaibatsu heiress in the public eye...
Her father had never uttered a single word of acknowledgment.
As though she were not his biological daughter at all.
Kaguya Shinomiya felt profoundly, achingly insecure.
———
The afternoon sun slanted through Soubu High School's windows, casting honeyed parallelograms across linoleum floors.
Hozuki Nozomi bypassed the Service Club entirely, his footsteps carrying him toward the faculty office instead. The corridor smelled of chalk dust and the faint chemical bite of floor cleaner.
Kirisu Mafuyu still owed him a meal.
The prospect of a home-cooked dinner at the beautiful teacher's residence sent a pleasant warmth spreading through his chest. Free food and quality time with a stunning woman? The universe occasionally showed mercy.
Upon entering the office, he found her hunched over a mountain of papers at her desk, red pen dancing across student submissions with mechanical precision. Her slender fingers moved deftly,pink hair cascading past her shoulders. The subtle fragrance of jasmine and something warmer—perhaps vanilla lotion—drifted from her direction.
Hozuki Nozomi didn't disturb her. He simply settled into a nearby chair and waited, content to observe.
The way her brow furrowed slightly at a particularly egregious answer.
The gentle curve of her neck as she tilted her head.
The rhythmic scratch of pen against paper.
"Oi."
A sharp slap connected with his shoulder.
Hiratsuka Shizuka had materialized beside him, white lab coat hanging open over her fitted black turtleneck, cigarette tucked behind one ear. Her dark eyes narrowed with unmistakable displeasure as she caught the direction of his gaze.
"You brat, who gave you permission to waltz in here? And staring brazenly at Kirisu-sensei, no less!" She planted her hands on her hips, lab coat flaring. "Don't forget you're a man with fiancées! Two of them!"
This insufferable kid, she thought bitterly. Already engaged before thirty while I can't even survive a single blind date without wanting to flip the table.
Hiratsuka Shizuka had indeed attended the engagement banquet.
She'd deliberately concealed herself in the crowd, ensuring Hozuki Nozomi remained oblivious to her presence.
Upon returning home that evening, her parents had descended upon her like circling hawks. Your student is engaged! Where's YOUR boyfriend? We want grandchildren! We're not getting any younger!
What recourse did Hiratsuka Shizuka possess?
She could only acquiesce to several additional blind dates her parents had arranged before fleeing the family home in tactical retreat.
Naturally, every single one crashed and burned.
Either she found the man repulsive—weak handshakes, wandering eyes, breath that smelled of tobacco and desperation—or their demands proved utterly unreasonable.
You want me to quit teaching? Become a housewife? She'd nearly spat her coffee across the café table. She was an independent woman, damn it! Waiting obediently at home for some man to grace her with his presence? Abandoning her career, her students, her identity?
Impossible!
Besides, her family's financial situation remained perfectly comfortable. Why should she settle for a man who viewed her as raw material to be molded into subservience?
So—ugly rejection. Every. Single. Time.
Hiratsuka Shizuka glowered at the student directly responsible for inflating her failed-blind-date counter, irritation simmering beneath her skin.
Facing her openly hostile expression, Hozuki Nozomi merely smiled, unfazed.
"Hiratsuka-sensei," he said smoothly, "I'm looking at you with the exact same gaze, you know."
"Huh?" Her heartbeat stuttered. "What did you say, you brat? You're looking at me with lustfully?"
Heat crept up her neck despite herself. Although this kid possessed undeniable good looks—sharp jawline, those irritatingly pretty eyes—and a personality that bordered on charming, he was her student!
And he was Yukino and Haruno's fiancé!
An old cow devouring young grass was absolutely unacceptable!
*It sounded super-funny in my mind so I left it.
Just as her thoughts spiraled into increasingly flustered territory, Hozuki Nozomi clarified: "Lustful? Please. This is an appreciative gaze. Hiratsuka-sensei and Kirisu-sensei are simply the two most beautiful flowers adorning Soubu High's teaching staff."
He spread his hands innocently. "Such eye-catching beauties standing before me—is it truly so unreasonable to look a few extra moments and feast my eyes?"
"Uh..." Hiratsuka Shizuka's cheeks flushed pink. "No, I suppose... it's not unreasonable."
What bizarre thoughts had she been entertaining?!
Still, being praised as a great beauty felt... nice.
Hmph. Her failed blind dates had nothing to do with any deficiency on her part. Those men simply possessed no taste whatsoever!
Kirisu Mafuyu had noticed Hiratsuka Shizuka's arrival mid-conversation and listened to the exchange with mounting exasperation, one delicate eyebrow twitching.
Nevertheless, she offered a polite greeting.
"Hiratsuka-sensei, good afternoon."
"Mm, good afternoon, Kirisu-sensei." Hiratsuka Shizuka's attention swiveled toward the silver-haired teacher. "Did you summon this brat here?"
"Yes. I require his assistance with something."
"What could he possibly help with?" Genuine bewilderment colored Hiratsuka Shizuka's voice.
What connection could these two share?
Kirisu Mafuyu would sooner bite off her own tongue than admit she was escorting a student home for dinner.
Her eyes darted sideways—seeking, calculating—before she fabricated an excuse.
"Nozomi-kun failed to pay attention during my lecture earlier. He was playing on his phone. I'm punishing him with cleaning duty."
Hozuki Nozomi's jaw dropped.
Slander! Pure slander!
He was an exemplary student! His phone remained firmly pocketed throughout every class!
"Oh, is that so?" Hiratsuka Shizuka's expression brightened with vindictive satisfaction. "He deserves it! A beautiful teacher dedicating her time to educating him, and he's playing on his phone? Punishment is absolutely warranted!"
She immediately sided with Kirisu Mafuyu without hesitation.
"Haha, indeed." Kirisu Mafuyu nodded graciously. "Well, we won't disturb you further, Hiratsuka-sensei. I must supervise his punishment!"
With that declaration, she seized the indignant Hozuki Nozomi's wrist and hauled him bodily from the office.
———
Seated in Kirisu Mafuyu's compact sedan—a modest white vehicle that smelled faintly of air freshener and leather conditioner—Hozuki Nozomi found himself harboring concerns regarding her driving capabilities.
This beautiful, clumsy teacher wouldn't happen to be a speed demon behind the wheel, would she?
*Family... Just assume I'm tripping with the Fast and Furious reference.
His apprehension proved unfounded. She drove cautiously, perhaps too cautiously, earning several honks from impatient motorists as she navigated toward the convenience store.
They gathered ingredients together—vegetables, rice, seasonings—Kirisu Mafuyu consulting her phone's recipe with furrowed brows while Hozuki Nozomi trailed behind, basket in hand.
Finally, they arrived at her apartment.
The space was modest but meticulously organized. Bookshelves lined one wall, packed with educational texts and the occasional novel. A faint scent of lavender clung to the air, mingling with the clean fragrance of recently laundered curtains.
Hozuki Nozomi's breath caught as Kirisu Mafuyu emerged from the small kitchen, now wearing an apron.
The simple garment transformed her entirely.
Pale pink fabric cinched at her narrow waist, accentuating the graceful hourglass curve of her figure. Her pink hair had been gathered into a loose ponytail, exposing the elegant column of her neck and the delicate shell of her ear. The apron's ties formed a bow at the small of her back, the ribbons trailing over the swell of her hips.
She looks like a newlywed, Hozuki Nozomi thought, mouth suddenly dry. Playing house with the gorgeous teacher... I could get used to this.
"Wait in the living room," she instructed, a determined glint in her cerulean eyes. "I'll prepare dinner."
She vanished into the kitchen before he could protest.
Regardless of whether this works, Kirisu Mafuyu told herself, gripping a spatula like a weapon, I'll start first. I've practiced! Those cooking classes weren't for nothing!
She felt confident. Cautiously optimistic.
———
Several minutes passed.
Then—the smell hit him.
Acrid. Bitter. Unmistakably burning.
"What's that smell?"
Hozuki Nozomi bolted from the sofa and charged toward the kitchen.
What greeted him was chaos incarnate.
Kirisu Mafuyu stood frozen before the stove, her pristine apron now smeared with ash and grease splatters. Her pink hair had partially escaped its ponytail, strands clinging to her flushed cheeks. And in the pan before her, flames licked upward with hungry enthusiasm, orange tongues dancing three inches high.
"Ah—! Why did you come in?!" She spun toward him, panic cracking her composure. "This... this was just an accident!"
She seized a bowl from the counter—filled with water.
"I'll extinguish it immediately!"
Hozuki Nozomi's eyes widened in horror.
"DON'T POUR WATER—!"
Too late.
BOOM.
The oil erupted.
A geyser of flame and scalding droplets exploded upward.
"KYAAA—!"
Hozuki Nozomi didn't think.
His body moved on pure instinct, closing the distance in two strides. He wrapped his arms around Kirisu Mafuyu's slender frame—one hand cradling her head, the other pressing against the small of her back—and twisted, putting himself between her and the inferno.
Molten oil splattered across his shoulders. His back.
White-hot pain lanced through fabric and into flesh.
He gritted his teeth, swallowing the grunt that threatened to escape, and held her tighter—her face buried against his chest, her trembling body shielded entirely by his own.
The moment passed.
He released her just enough to lunge for the pan, slamming a pot lid down over the flames. The fire suffocated instantly, starved of oxygen.
Click.
He twisted the gas switch off.
Silence.
Heavy, ringing silence, broken only by their ragged breathing.
Hozuki Nozomi exhaled slowly, tension bleeding from his shoulders despite the throbbing pain radiating across his back.
This girl, he thought, somewhere between exasperated and fond. If you can't cook, don't force it. I would've happily accepted takeout.
But no. She simply had to prove herself.
He turned to address her—perhaps a gentle chiding, perhaps teasing reassurance—but the words died in his throat.
Kirisu Mafuyu stared up at him with glistening eyes, tears threatening to spill down porcelain cheeks. Her lower lip trembled. Ash smudged her nose. And when her delicate fingers reached out to clasp his hand, her grip was desperate, almost pleading.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, voice cracking. "This is all my fault... Nozomi-kun. It must hurt terribly, doesn't it?"
He protected me, she thought, chest constricting with guilt and something warmer, something she refused to name. He got burned because of my incompetence...
"Come with me." She tugged him gently but insistently toward the hallway. "Go to my room first. I'll fetch medicine immediately."
Her room.
The beautiful teacher was pulling him toward her bedroom.
Seeing the genuine distress swimming in those eyes—the way her fingers trembled against his, the way she looked at him like he was something precious that had been damaged through her carelessness—Hozuki Nozomi found his irritation evaporating entirely.
Well, he conceded, allowing himself to be led, for now... I'll obediently comply.