Kaguya Shinomiya could only watch helplessly as Seiji Fujiwara's other hand roamed freely beneath her dress.
"Let go of me!"
"You bastard! You animal!"
She shoved at him and cursed with all her strength.
But the bit of strength she had was no more, to Seiji Fujiwara, than the playful scratching of a kitten that only added flavor to the moment.
He scooped her up around the waist with ease.
And strode toward the massive double bed at the center of the room.
He put her down on it, and she fought him the whole way, which she would later be unable to forgive herself for, not because it failed, everything failed, but because fighting was a thing a person did when she still believed she could win, and Kaguya Shinomiya had built her entire life on never entering a contest she had not already won before it began.
She had a theory about this. She had always had a theory about everything, and her theory about this had been the cornerstone under all the others: that feeling was a weakness, that wanting was a way of handing someone a blade and pointing out where to put it, that the people who lost were the people who let themselves be moved. She had never lost. She had taken the whole humiliating business of hearts and turned it into a clean war fought at a distance with perfect information, and she had won it every single time by the simple method of never once being in it.
He did not fight her like an opponent, and that was where it began to come apart. An opponent could be read, baited, beaten. He handled her the way weather handles a house, with no real interest in her at all, pinned her down with one forearm and set about it, and her struggling changed nothing about his pace or his face, and somewhere in the first minutes the strategist in her understood with cold horror that there was no game here to win, because he had never been playing one.
Then her body began to answer him.
She felt it begin and refused to believe it and then could not stop it, a slick traitor heat rising in her against everything she knew to be true about herself, her hips moving when she had given them no such order, a sound climbing her throat that she strangled half born and that he drew out of her anyway on the next stroke. It was not pleasure. She would defend that distinction to herself for a long time afterward, and it would not hold. It was her own body proving, with his cock buried in her and the bedding crushed in her fists, the single proposition she had organized her whole existence to disprove: that she was not above this, that feeling was not a weakness other, lesser people had, that the ice she had been so proud of had only ever been a room she had not yet been dragged out of.
He did not hurry. He took the whole night the way he took everything, all of it, and used her until the cold brilliant architecture of who Kaguya Shinomiya was had come down inside her floor by floor, and what was left when he finally let her sleep was not a heartbroken girl. It was a strategist who had just learned, far too late and in her own body, that she had been wrong about the one thing she had ever been certain of.
...
Elsewhere.
Shuchiin Academy.
The night had grown deep.
Ai Hayasaka still sat in the empty classroom.
She hadn't gone home.
Because she knew, the person she wanted to wait for was no longer in that house.
She just sat there quietly.
Watching through the window as dusk turned to night.
Watching as the people on campus left in twos and threes, until the last one vanished from sight.
She dialed Kaguya Shinomiya's number over and over.
Every time, all she heard was that mechanical recorded message.
The last ember of hope in Ai Hayasaka's chest was worn away as time passed.
Lady Kaguya was not coming back.
At least, not tonight.
She was the same as Hayasaka herself.
Treated as a sacrifice by the Shinomiya Family, offered up to that devil named Seiji Fujiwara.
That night.
Ai Hayasaka did not sleep.
Until, in the eastern sky, the first pale white of dawn rose.
...
Shinomiya Main Family.
The meeting room was brightly lit.
Those high-ranking family members had not left.
They, too, were waiting for a result.
A result that concerned the future of the Shinomiya Family.
At last, the clansman in charge of communications received a call from Seiji Fujiwara's residence.
The content of the call was simple.
Just one sentence.
"Mr. Fujiwara is very satisfied with tonight's 'documents.'"
A cheer erupted in the meeting room.
"Excellent!"
"It seems our decision was the right one!"
Smiles of relief broke out on every face.
Sending Kaguya Shinomiya, that girl of unclear status who could threaten their interests at any moment, off as a gift in exchange for Seiji Fujiwara's goodwill.
In their eyes, the trade was a bargain.
As for what would happen to the girl.
No one cared.
...
...
The next morning.
Sunlight pierced through the gap in the heavy curtains, casting a patch of light onto the carpet.
Seiji Fujiwara woke leisurely.
He slowly opened his eyes.
What met his gaze was the familiar, luxurious ceiling of the bedroom. A faint trace of debauchery still lingered in the air.
Beside him lay a girl.
She was curled on her side with her back to him, like a small, frightened animal.
That head of glossy, smooth black hair lay scattered across the white pillow, making the nape of her exposed neck look as pale as the finest white jade.
She seemed to be awake, but didn't move, as if still trapped in last night's storm, a nightmare she could not yet wake from.
Seiji paid her no attention.
He just closed his eyes again and enjoyed the morning quiet, along with... taking stock of the spoils.
The system's chime came right on schedule.
[Ding! Conquest Target 'Kaguya Shinomiya' detected.]
[Stage-One Conquest Reward now issued: Permanent Passive Aura, Blooming Peach Blossoms!]
[Aura description: Your presence will exert a subtle, fate-level pull on "high-quality" women. Your odds of "accidental" encounters with beautiful girls in all kinds of settings will be passively raised. At the same time, the forces under your command will, when handling matters involving beautiful girls, instinctively make choices that favor you.]
The corner of Seiji's mouth curled into an amused arc.
This reward was interesting.
It wasn't like Hypersonic Reaction, which acted directly on his own combat power.
Nor was it like Swordsmanship: Divine Mastery, which conferred absolute dominance in a single domain.
It was more like a passive skill that acted on the "rules of the world."
A causality weapon that turned the whole world into his "hunting ground."
"Not bad."
Seiji murmured to himself.
Then he slowly sat up on the bed.
The motion stirred the girl beside him, who had been pretending to be asleep all along.
Her body trembled almost imperceptibly.
Then she slowly turned over.
Kaguya Shinomiya was no longer the cool, proud ice-mountain heiress of the day before.
Her face wore a sickly pallor.
Faint dark circles ringed her eyes.
Those eyes, once bright and sharp as obsidian, were now clouded over, full of resentment, humiliation, and a trace of fear she hadn't even noticed in herself.
She just sat there in silence, glaring fixedly at Seiji.
If looks could kill, Seiji had no doubt he would already have been cut to pieces a thousand times over.
But faced with that hate-filled gaze, Seiji didn't care in the slightest.
He couldn't be bothered to spare her so much as an extra glance.
He simply walked to the closet, picked out a brand-new hand-tailored suit at random, and began to dress, unhurried, right in front of her.
From the shirt and slacks to the tie and cufflinks...
Kaguya was forced to watch all of it.
She watched as the devil who had dragged her into hell transformed back into a well-groomed, polished member of the upper-class elite.
The naked disregard humiliated her.
At last, Seiji was dressed.
He walked to the bedside and looked down at the girl who was still glaring at him with resentful eyes.
"Get dressed."
His voice was flat. "The car is already waiting outside."
"It'll take you to school."
With that, he walked out of the bedroom without looking back.
As though what he had left behind wasn't the daughter of a top-tier conglomerate whom he had ravaged all night long.
But merely a toy that had lost its novelty.
...
Shuchiin Academy, the front gate.
A Rolls-Royce Phantom rolled to a stop at the entrance.
In an instant, it drew the eyes of every student passing by.
"Wow! Look! It's a Rolls-Royce Phantom!"
"Oh my god... I've only ever seen this car in magazines... they say the options alone cost as much as buying a mansion!"
"What kind of bigshot would be coming to our school?"
Amid the wave of envious chatter and speculation.
A black-suited bodyguard opened the rear door respectfully.
Then a figure familiar to everyone stepped out.
It was Kaguya Shinomiya.
She still wore that cold, distancing expression.
But everyone picked up at once that today, Vice President Shinomiya seemed... a little different.
Her face was paler than usual.
Her gaze was colder than usual, with a barely perceptible gloom beneath it.
Like an ice lotus battered all night by a storm.
Still beautiful.
But that sense of pure, untainted holiness seemed to have been stained by something.
The campus erupted.
"What's going on?! Did President Shinomiya really just get out of that car?!"
"That car... I feel like I've seen it somewhere... I remember! It belongs to Seiji Fujiwara! That monster who's been stirring up a bloodbath in the financial world lately!"
"Could it be... President Shinomiya and him..."
Speculation of every kind spread through the crowd like a plague.
Envy, jealousy, resentment, and a sense that of course it had been so.
"Hah, just as I thought... only a man like Seiji Fujiwara is worthy of a heaven-blessed daughter like President Shinomiya..."
"A perfect match, the strong joining the strong... it really leaves no room for fantasy at all."
Kaguya ignored the needling looks and chatter around her.
She walked toward the school building with no expression on her face.
...
At a corner of the school building.
A figure had been waiting there for some time.
It was Ai Hayasaka.
She hadn't slept all night.
Those eyes, once bright and mischievous, were now bloodshot.
When she saw Kaguya's pale face, and those eyes drained of every spark.
Ai Hayasaka's heart was squeezed by an invisible hand.
Mistress and servant looked at each other in silence.
Neither spoke.
But both read everything in the other's eyes.
Kaguya understood now why, after Ai Hayasaka had vanished for an entire night, she had returned with such a stricken expression.
And Ai Hayasaka understood now what kind of hell Lady Kaguya had been through the night before.
Silence.
A dead silence.
In the end, it was Kaguya who looked away first.
Her voice was hoarse, like a rusted blade.
"...I'm fine."
With that, she stepped around Ai Hayasaka and walked toward the Student Council Room without looking back.
Ai Hayasaka watched that solitary, stubborn back recede.
The tears in her eyes could no longer be held back.
She crouched down and buried her face deep into her knees.
Her shoulders shook violently.
But they both understood.
No matter how much anger and resentment filled their hearts.
They could not change a single thing.
Because their fates had long since been bound together, locked tight by the shackles called "family" and by the devil called "Seiji Fujiwara."
...
Elsewhere.
In an unremarkable corner of Seiji Fujiwara's vast business empire.
In a subsidiary tasked with handling distressed assets.
A shrewd mid-level manager named Ken Tanaka was frowning down at a report in his hands.
It was a bad debt of no particularly large amount.
The debtor was a small factory called Shirogane Manufacturing.
The owners, the Shirogane couple, had both died over a year ago in an accidental fire.
What they had left behind, besides a factory burned to ruins, was a sum of debt that, for an ordinary family, amounted to an astronomical figure.
And a pair of underage children.
"The older brother, Miyuki Shirogane, enrolled at the private Advanced Nurturing High School and has been out of contact ever since... tch, that school is a focal point for the politicians' games. Not easy to touch."
"As for the daughter... a daughter still in junior high, Kei Shirogane..."
A thoughtful expression came over Ken Tanaka's face.
He had seen plenty of these ruined-family, can't-pay-the-debt cases.
By standard procedure, the next step would be to send his collection people to pay a "visit" to that girl Kei Shirogane.
To use legal means, or means that walked the edge of the law, to make her understand what "a child pays the father's debts" meant.
But this time was a little different.
Ken Tanaka's gaze fell on a photograph tucked inside the file.
It was Kei Shirogane's ID photo.
The girl in the picture was still very young.
But that pretty, delicate face was already showing the makings of a beauty.
Especially those eyes, clear and innocent as a fawn's, the kind that made you want to protect her.
A flash of inspiration shot through Ken Tanaka's mind.
He remembered the rumors that circulated among the company's upper echelons, about certain "special" tastes of the boss who ran the group.
It was said that the boss had a particular fondness for this type, the pure, well-behaved, slightly stubborn beautiful girl.
A bold idea sprang up from somewhere deep inside him.
This... might be an opportunity!
Ken Tanaka shot up from his chair.
In a tone of unprecedented seriousness, he gave an order to the subordinate beside him:
"Halt all collection actions against the Shirogane family immediately!"
"Without my permission, no one is to harass the girl named Kei Shirogane!"
Under the bewildered, uncomprehending gaze of his subordinate.
Ken Tanaka compiled the intelligence on the Shirogane family into an earnestly worded report.
Then, through internal channels, he passed it up the chain.
He believed.
That this insignificant little "gift" from a small player like himself.
Would soon find its way to the boss who stood at the very peak of the pyramid.
And his own fate, Ken Tanaka's fate, would change beyond recognition because of it.
All of this was happening quietly, by imperceptible degrees, under the influence of the Blooming Peach Blossoms aura.
...
...
Seiji Fujiwara's residence.
The former kendo prodigy was using the very hands that had once gripped a sword hilt to knead Seiji's shoulders with measured strength.
Her motions were focused and reverent, as if she were performing some sacred rite.
That lovely face had long since shed its old edge, leaving only the calm of one who has been thoroughly tamed.
Seiji didn't turn around. He drank off the rest of the red wine in his glass and set the empty cup casually on the low side table, producing a crisp tap.
He asked lightly, "Saeko, what qualities do you think a good gift should have?"
Saeko Busujima's hands didn't pause in their massage, as though she had rehearsed the answer to this question a thousand times in her own mind.
She kept her eyes lowered, her gaze fixed on Seiji's broad shoulders, and answered in a soft, compliant voice, "A good gift should be something that has already been presented before the master has had to speak."
"Well said."
The corner of Seiji's mouth lifted into a satisfied curve.
He tilted his head, and his gaze finally settled on the girl behind him.
He reached out and tipped Saeko Busujima's chin up with a fingertip.
Those purple eyes, once sharp as a blade, now held nothing but docility and submission.
"Then, Saeko," Seiji's fingertip slowly traced over her smooth skin, his voice carrying a hint of teasing, "do you think you are... a good enough gift?"
Saeko's body gave a small shudder, her breathing pausing for a moment.
She could feel the warmth from his fingertip, a warmth that seemed to carry a current with it, sending a strange, tingling sensation through her whole body.
A crimson flush rose to her cheeks against her will, but her gaze did not waver in the slightest.
...
Night had grown deep.
In Seiji Fujiwara's study, only a single floor lamp was lit. Its warm yellow light traced the outline of the sofa, leaving most of the room sunk in shadow.
He was sunk back into the soft cushions of the sofa, his posture languid.
A wine glass hung between his fingers, swirling absentmindedly. The wine traced a thick arc along the inside of the glass, like a dark red wound, glinting faintly in the dim light.
Outside the window was Tokyo.
A carpet of light woven from neon stretched from his feet all the way to the edge of the skyline. The bustle and clamor of the city were sealed off completely by the thick double-vacuum glass, leaving only a silent vista to be looked down upon.
Seiji's thoughts lingered on the new ability he had just acquired.
Blooming Peach Blossoms.
A passive ability that sounded thick with fate, even a little flippant. The system's description was vague. "Increases the chance of accidental encounters with high-quality beautiful girls."
He liked the word "accidental."
Compared to the active hunt of following a clear trail, gifts personally wrapped and delivered by "fate" itself were better suited to stirring the connoisseur's interest of a top-tier player like himself.
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