The bustling shopping mall in Shinjuku on a Sunday afternoon was a picture of liveliness. The crowd of people moving back and forth intertwined into endless streams of motion. The music playing from fashion stores blended with announcements from the speakers and the lively chatter of thousands of shoppers.
He strode across the polished tiled floor, carrying a bag of computer components he had just bought at a specialty store.
He was rarely happy. And in this world, even less so. However, there was one exception right now, as he had just purchased a bunch of high quality components cleared out at a dirt cheap price, especially when a new game needs a lot of RAM for optimization and a VR headset for the most realistic experience.
He walked slowly toward home, but then his steady footsteps faltered slightly.
His attention snagged on an unusual bottleneck in a hidden corner near the vending machines.
There, a man in his thirties, dressed sharply but exuding a sleazy vibe, was using his large frame to corner a petite girl against the wall.
The girl wore a pale pink dress, her hair braided and resting on one shoulder. Her figure was incredibly small, both hands clutching her handbag to her chest like a weak shield. Her entire body trembled violently. Her face was bowed down, her lips moving continuously, but her respiratory system seemed completely locked, unable to utter a single sound.
"Come on, let's go! You already took the money, right? We still have time. Let's go to karaoke for a bit, I promise I will not do anything excessive!" The man leaned in closer, reaching out to grab her wrist, his tone full of coercion and shady intent.
The little girl cringed, squeezing her eyes shut as a tear of fear rolled down her cheek. Extreme panic had completely demolished her ability to resist.
Observing from afar, his dark eyes narrowed slightly.
He was an absolute individualist. He had no interest in playing the hero to save the beauty for cheers, much less bringing strangers' troubles upon himself. Yet, seeing that small, helpless, and silent figure, the most primal moral compass within him automatically activated.
He could use ruthless words to tear apart the dignity of a lying adult, but he would never turn his back when seeing a child or a defenseless person being cornered by someone stronger. In his eyes right now, the trembling girl was no different from a small animal being bullied by a beast.
He changed direction. He did not sprint or shout to attract the crowd's attention. He approached the target with a quiet demeanor that carried an incredibly heavy, invisible pressure.
He squeezed into the cramped space, using his broad shoulders and back to completely block the man's line of sight, while simultaneously creating a solid protective wall for the little girl behind him.
"What the fu..." The man started, opening his mouth to curse at the interruption.
But before the words could escape his lips, he was met with a gaze as cold as a glacier. His lips did not curl, his face bore no expression of anger, only the deadly calmness of someone looking down at roadside trash.
"The distance between you and her is exceeding personal safety limits." He spoke. His pitch was deep, articulating every single word clearly, not raising his voice but carrying absolute intimidation. "This girl is an employee of Diamond Company. If you don't want me to call their risk management department directly and have their lawyers file a harassment complaint against you, then step back three steps and leave. I'll count to three.""
The man's mouth fell open. He stared at the tall young man, whose dark eyes looked ready to break his arm without blinking. Facing someone with such an overwhelming presence and no sign of joking, his bravado deflated instantly.
"Damn it... I was just asking her out, no need to be so tense." He muttered a few weak excuses, took a few steps back, and hurriedly turned on his heel to blend into the crowded mall.
He turned around to look at the girl.
The little girl remained rooted to the spot, looking up at him with teary eyes. Contrary to her expectations, the savior who just rescued her showed no gentleness, nor did he smile kindly and ask if she was okay. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, glancing over her carefully prepared outfit and light makeup. Based on what the man had just blurted out, his logical brain instantly connected the dots.
"Another employee from that trashy emotional brokerage company." He evaluated internally, feeling a sense of weariness. "Are these idiots crazy enough not to train their newcomers or what?"
He did not care who she was or what her name was. She was just a passerby who happened to be in trouble, and he had simply cleared away an eyesore of an obstacle.
He lowered his voice, trying to restrain his usual sharpness to avoid scaring her further.
"Follow me. Standing crying in this corner will not make you any safer."
Having said that, he turned and walked away at a leisurely pace, intentionally slowing down a beat to ensure her short legs could keep up. The girl hesitated for a second, then hurriedly clutched her bag and followed his straight back, like a little bird trailing behind its rescuer.
He led her out of the bustling area, finding a quieter corner of the hallway with a long cushioned bench for resting guests.
He pointed to gesture for her to sit down, then walked over to the nearby vending machine. A minute later, he returned and placed a warm can of chamomile tea into her hands.
"Take it." He said, then sat down at a distance just far enough so she would not feel pressured.
The little girl sat timidly, pressing both hands tightly against the warm tea can. She kept her face bowed, her lips moving as she wanted to properly say thank you, but her communication disorder choked her throat once again. She was afraid she would stutter, afraid she would annoy this man. Her helplessness with herself brought tears to the brink of her eyes again.
He sat with his legs crossed, his calm eyes observing her. His patience toward this nameless girl was vastly different from the strict, harsh attitude he had given Mami or Chizuru. Because he could see through it, her silence was not fake or calculated, but a genuine panic of the nervous system.
He reached out, using his index knuckle to tap twice on the glass table next to them to get her attention.
When the girl looked up in surprise, he looked straight into her eyes. No scolding, no rushing. With a steady, articulate voice carrying the pedagogical tone of someone who used to manipulate thousands of viewers, he began to untangle the knot.
"I know you want to say thank you, and I have already received it, so there is no need to force yourself to vocalize it." He began, stopping the torment in her head.
The girl blinked in astonishment.
"Your problem is not that you do not know what to say, but that you cannot say anything because your brain is overloaded with fear." He analyzed slowly, offering the most practical solution instead of empty words of comfort. "Fear of being judged, fear of speaking wrongly, fear of the other person's gaze. When you focus too much on the other party, your defense mechanism automatically triggers a freeze state."
He took a sip of black coffee from his own can, then continued.
"If the nature of your job forces you to communicate, learn to trick your own brain. When facing someone else, do not look them in the eyes if it scares you. Look at the tip of their nose, or a spot on their collar. In your mind, do not consider them a human being scrutinizing you."
He tilted his head slightly, offering an incredibly visual and cold example.
"Treat them like a tree trunk, an inanimate statue, or a talking cabbage. You are not afraid when standing in front of a mirror practicing speaking alone, right? So just lock yourself in your own safe space, arrange your words, and talk to that tree trunk. Ignore all of their emotional reactions."
The girl widened her eyes. This was the first time someone did not advise her to try to be confident or be sociable, but instead taught her a method to completely strip away the human element in communication to minimize pressure. It was incredibly dry, yet extremely effective and hit right at her psychology.
Seeing her gaze relax somewhat, he decided to deliver his final piece of advice. This time, his voice dropped significantly, firm and serious.
"And the most important thing." He pointed at the tea can in her hands. "If someone crosses the line and threatens your safety like that guy just now, absolutely do not stand still and take it. No matter what job you are doing, no matter how much the client paid, they have no right to trample on your dignity."
"Turn your back and walk away. Call for help from people around you. Or pull out your phone and dial the police. Service is for making money, but your life and personal safety must always be the absolute priority. Remember that well."
The intensity and pragmatism in his words ran like an electric current down the little girl's spine. She understood that the strange man in front of her was not just teaching her how to talk, but teaching her how to protect herself in a world full of brutality.
An invisible relief spread through her chest. Her lips trembled slightly, and this time, she no longer felt choked.
She took a deep breath, looking straight at his chest instead of his eyes, exactly as he had just taught. She bowed her head very formally.
"I...understand. Thank you...very much."
The voice was small and slightly trembling, but incredibly articulate, round, and clear. It was a massive victory for herself.
He looked at her and gave a slight nod. There was no need for superfluous praise. He stood up, picking up the plastic bag containing his computer components.
"Handle the aftermath yourself. That is all the advice I can give you."
He left behind a cold statement bearing his signature transactional nature, then turned and walked straight toward the subway entrance. He did not look back, nor did he ask for her name or where she lived. To him, clearing an obstacle on the road was done, and her life from now on would be determined by her alone.
The little girl hurriedly stood up straight, bowing ninety degrees once more toward his fading silhouette, her heart filled with profound gratitude for the dry benefactor whose name she had not even had the chance to ask.
However, he had no idea that the entire sequence of events, from the moment he stepped out to shield the girl to when he sat down to deliver those ruthless but practical pieces of advice, had fully fallen into the eyes of a third person.
...
Behind a large advertising display rack about ten meters away, Ichinose Chizuru slowly stepped out.
Today, she received a task from the company to secretly monitor the practice date of the new junior, Sakurasawa Sumi. She had accidentally lost track of Sumi near the fountain area, and upon frantically finding her, she witnessed her junior being rescued by her own awful, eccentric neighbor from Room 203.
Initially, upon seeing Kazuya appear, Chizuru had intended to rush out and intervene. She was terrified that the venomous tongue that had cursed his ex and insulted her profession would make Sumi cry and permanently break her spirit.
But she was wrong. She was completely wrong.
Standing hidden behind the billboard, Chizuru had not missed a single word. She saw how he chased away the uncultured client with absolute dominance without resorting to violence or making a scene. She saw him put away his usual ruthless, arrogant demeanor to patiently analyze and teach Sumi how to breathe and overcome her fear using a bizarre method that took effect immediately.
The cold blooded man who had just torn apart someone else's pride with words was also the one offering the most practical, powerful advice to protect the safety of a weak, nameless girl. He taught Sumi that it was better to call the police or run away than to stand still and take abuse to please a client. A mindset completely contrary to all the lowly enduring standards of this damn rental girlfriend profession.
Chizuru stood frozen, her incredibly complex gaze directed toward the subway exit where his silhouette had just vanished into the crowd.
The highly contradictory pieces of the man named Kinoshita Kazuya began clashing in her mind. He despised hypocrisy, he was ruthless to enemies, yet he held an absolute boundary of protection for the elderly like his grandmother, and the weak, defenseless children like Sumi.
"What kind of person is he, really?" Chizuru thought to herself, her chest tightening slightly.