Chapter 3: The Tears That Sealed the Deal.
What kind of parents are these?
Mine are already a handful, but Amanika-san's? They're playing on an entirely different chessboard. Not only did they agree to hand over their entire company to a high schooler they've never met-but they also tossed in their daughter's hand in marriage like it was part of a buy-one-get-one deal.
It's absurd. Completely irrational.
And yet... isn't that how love works too? Illogical. Reckless. Sometimes stupidly beautiful.
"Your parents agreed. So did mine. You really don't get a vote in this," Amanika said, lips curled into a smile that wasn't entirely innocent. "But if you do plan to resist... well, I trust you understand the consequences?"
Yeah. Oh, I definitely understand the consequences.
And they aren't small.
•••••
Now that the seed's been planted, it's only a matter of time before I have him.
God, it feels so good just thinking about it. He's mine now -or at least, almost.
Time to water the seed a little.
"You're a smart guy. I like that," I said, leaning forward just a little too close. "But if you keep being difficult, we'll never get to do those... naughty things together."
I cringed the moment the words left my mouth. What kind of villainess line was that!? My cheeks burned, but I pushed on.
"In fact-"I added, gently dragging my fingers to rest near my chest, "-even if I leave myself completely defenseless, you'll have to behave. After all, you'd just be a butler. Strictly professional."
I could barely look him in the eye.
And then... he muttered something.
"A forbidden relationship..." he whispered.
Huh?
"I mean," he added with a smirk, "being in love with my mistress doesn't sound all that bad."
"Wha-!?" My heart practically exploded. "No! I mean-yes -I mean-pure love is supposed to be good, right? Not scandalous, stolen-kiss-in-the-library kind of love!"
I turned away to hide my crimson face, staring out the window like it had answers.
"So," I asked quietly, "are you still going to say no?"
He sighed. The air changed.
> "To be honest," he said, "I was never going to say no."
My eyes darted toward him.
> "Because people like me... only ever get two choices: take the silver plate life hands you... or lose everything. So yeah, let's see where this goes."
He was trying to sound cool. Detached.
But something about him-his voice, his eyes-it cracked.
Something broke.
My feet moved before I even thought. I rushed toward him, cupping his cheek with both hands. His shoulders flinched back slightly, like he wasn't used to sudden kindness.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, genuinely confused.
I stared at him. My voice came out barely above a whisper.
"You're crying."
His nose had turned slightly red. His eyes were glassy. People don't always bawl when they're broken-sometimes it slips out quietly, in tears they don't even notice.
He touched my hand, then his face.
> "...I'm sorry," he said, barely audible.
He stood up and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
> "Shh," I whispered, pulling him into a gentle hug. "It's okay.
You're suddenly all alone... it's okay to let go."
He buried his face in my shoulder. Silent at first... then a few soft sobs escaped him.
I held him tighter.
He's just a boy. A boy forced to become a man too early.
A boy who lost everything and now has to live like a puppet in someone else's story.
But I'll make sure his story is a happy one.
He wakes up every day at 6:30 AM and heads to work at Okushaki Café. After that, he runs straight to school. He's part of the student council. He carries the weight of perfection on his back and still manages to lift others up with him.
I once overheard him tell a girl-Black hair, a pair of golden eyes who praised him for being "top of the class":
"Imagine standing at the edge of a mountain peak, with nothing to hold onto, nowhere to go but down-that's what it feels like. Everyone thinks it's glorious, but no one sees the fear. Staying at the top isn't easy. Climbing was just the beginning."
That's when I realized I'd fallen for him.
For his strength. His discipline. His unshakeable heart that still found time to care for others.
But right now, he looked so fragile.
As I stroked his back gently, his soft hair slipped through my fingers like silk. His skin, warm and delicate beneath my touch, sent a quiet shiver through me. It wasn't lust-it was comfort. Intimacy. A bond forming in the quiet of our closeness.
For those few moments, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.
Ten minutes passed. His breathing slowed. He was calm again.
"Now that you're okay..." I whispered, smiling, "how about you start packing? We're tearing down this house, remember?"
His eyes screamed Are you serious!?, and I couldn't help but giggle.
"Oh! And don't worry-our new love nest is already prepared."
He gave me the look. You know, that what in the actual hell is a love nest kind of look. Scratched his head. Sighed.
"I'll... get started," he mumbled and walked off toward his room.
I watched him go, my chest swelling with a weird mix of pride and warmth.
He's mine now.
Only mine.
Hehehehe...
Once we rebuild this house, we can rent it out. Location's great-close to schools and decent hospitals. The passive income will be solid.
Gah. I sound like my dad again.
But I can't bring that kind of cold calculation into this relationship. Love isn't a business deal.
Still... after all this time...
The negotiation?
It's finally complete.