Kaguya's birthday party was being held at a luxury hotel near Tokyo Bay.
The hotel was one of many properties under the Shinomiya family and wasn't open to the public.
It was only rented out for large private events, like VIP parties or birthdays.
The grand hotel lobby had high ceilings and massive, bright floor-to-ceiling windows.
A chandelier hung four stories high, casting a light that was bright yet gentle.
Guests mingled, clinking glasses, as elegant servers moved through the crowd with trays of wine.
If you wanted fresh air, you could stroll through a garden in full bloom—even with flowers that weren't in season.
If you were too full or bored, you could grab a kayak or hop on a jet ski and race across the sea.
Whatever you could imagine doing here—you could do it.
Even if you wanted to indulge in certain vices… rest assured, you'd be accommodated. No one would investigate. No one dared to.
This was a beautiful new world woven from money and power.
To the average worker, Tokyo was just Tokyo.
But in the eyes of the elite, Tokyo was a glittering playground of endless indulgence.
"Sir, here's your chilled watermelon juice."
Takashi took his eyes off the crowd of guests in tailored suits, accepted the freshly made juice, and took a sip.
"Takashi."
Kotonoha approached with a tray in one hand, looping her other arm around Takashi's while skillfully using a silver fork to pick up a slice of ham and feed it to him.
He ate it in one bite.
"How'd you get in?"
Kotonoha treated Takashi as if he were bedridden, taking care of him attentively.
"I was going to sneak in over the wall, but the security guard seemed to recognize me and just let me through," he lied casually.
In truth, he was attending on behalf of the Konoe family.
The Konoe and Shinomiya families couldn't stand each other. They secretly wished the other would vanish, but both still maintained a public front of civility.
To outsiders, they might even look like in-laws.
Hitomi hadn't wanted to come, but the Konoe family had to send someone—and Takashi was the best choice.
He didn't have much authority in the Konoe family, but as the boyfriend of the Konoe heiress, his words somewhat represented Hitomi's stance.
The doorman must have recognized him, because they didn't even ask for his invitation before letting him in.
Which disappointed Takashi.
He had expected them to look down on him, block his way, and trigger a whole "you dare underestimate me?!" drama where he'd dramatically pull out the Konoe family's invitation and slap them in the face.
He was kind of looking forward to a full-blown "Dragon King" moment.
But the staff were too well-trained.
All the "cool guy" scenarios he'd read in those rich-son-in-law webnovels had no place here.
"Tch."
"I saw your post earlier. Didn't you say you were at the airport this afternoon, ready to board a flight?"
Kotonoha fed him a piece of rare steak, still bloody.
"It was Photoshopped."
Takashi took a bite, but quickly frowned and spat it out.
"I don't like it when it's still bleeding."
He could never understand people who liked their meat half-raw.
If you really like it so raw, why not just chase a cow and bite straight into it?
That would be fresher.
"Oh, got it."
Kotonoha silently noted his preference.
Then she picked up a cherry tomato and returned to the previous topic. "Photoshopped?"
"Yeah."
"Why'd you do that?"
"To show up in front of you by surprise. To make you happy." Takashi turned to her with a smile in his eyes.
"Did it work?"
"Mhm!!!"
Kotonoha nodded vigorously, hugging his arm even tighter.
"I'm really happy."
"Then come with me after the party ends," Takashi leaned in, whispering warmly into her ear with every word.
"I booked a trip to Hokkaido for tonight."
Kotonoha's ears turned red, like a sunset—shy and radiant.
"Right after the party?"
"You don't want to?" Takashi's tone dropped a little, just enough to make Kotonoha panic.
"N-No, that's not it…"
Anyone who's ever played the role of the desperate lover knows—
When you've fought so hard to win someone over, you'll always be the weaker one in the relationship.
One frown from them can throw you into anxiety and uncertainty.
That's how "doormat boyfriends" are born—those who love more than they love themselves, who have no boundaries.
Kotonoha wasn't that extreme.
But her soft, gentle personality made her always think of Takashi's feelings first when he acted domineering.
"But… My parents are here. Can we go tomorrow instead?"
She asked timidly, afraid of upsetting him.
Takashi looked at her and dropped the classic question:
"Who's more important—me or your parents?"
If you asked him that same question, he wouldn't hesitate:
"Are you seriously comparing yourself to my parents? Do you even qualify to hold the spare keys to my house?"
But when she got asked that question—she hesitated.
That's the consequence of emotionally absent parenting.
Kotonoha had grown up in a wealthy family that gave her everything except love.
Material needs? Covered.
Now, she just chased emotional fulfillment.
That's why neglected rich kids fall hard when they fall in love.
"I…"
The rational side of her, shaped by her upbringing, leaned toward choosing her parents.
But emotions are complex. And for girls—especially someone like Kotonoha—emotion often won out.
Her heart leaned toward Takashi.
Takashi suddenly pulled his arm away and said coldly, "Don't act like I'm forcing you. If it's such a big deal, forget it."
He knew Kotonoha was conflicted.
But he wanted her to be conflicted.
If he were a kind anime protagonist, he'd be gentle and understanding.
But he wasn't.
He knew she liked him.
And he was using that affection to push her, to test her limits—to see how far she'd go for him.
So what if it backfired?
Takashi wasn't afraid.
He had plenty of backup options.
As long as he rotated through them fast enough, there'd be no time for heartbreak—only love.
"Takashi, don't be mad!"
Kotonoha panicked the moment she saw him get angry.
She set her tray down and tried to comfort him.
"I'll go talk to my parents right now, okay?"
But before she could even touch his arm, he dodged.
His voice was icy:
"Let me ask you again—who matters more? Me or your parents? I want an answer. Right now."
Kotonoha looked at Takashi's expressionless face.
She had a feeling—if she answered wrong, this man might really cut her off completely.
On one side were her parents. On the other, the man she loved.
Kotonoha's choice was—
"Takashi."
She grabbed his hand, eyes reddening as she looked up at him.
She knew her answer might go against societal norms and conventional values—but Takashi was truly important to her.
In an instant, Takashi dropped the cold act. His gaze softened noticeably.
"Don't cry. I was just teasing," he said, pulling her back into his embrace.
"You took it seriously?"
Kotonoha didn't answer. She just hugged him tightly, as if afraid that letting go would make him disappear.
Takashi gently stroked her hair like comforting a crying child, patient and tender.
He often made girls cry—but he also knew how to comfort them well.
With Takashi, a girl's emotions never followed a straight line.
Emotions are internal experiences, always rising and falling. A woman might feel infatuated with you now, only to forget those feelings with time.
That's why so many people, upon running into an ex, often ask themselves: "Damn, what did I even see in them back then?"
Emotions are inherently unstable.
If you're always nice to someone, always making them happy, that emotional arc can flatten out—no more highs or lows.
The scene between Takashi and Kotonoha had already drawn attention.
Perhaps it was the influence of the Konoe and Katsura families. Perhaps it was just how striking the two of them looked together.
Either way, many people were watching—except for a certain blonde loser lurking in the shadows.
Katsura Manami had noticed.
"…Kotonoha?"
She was surprised to see her daughter cuddled up in the arms of a handsome boy.
Her daughter had androphobia, yet here she was, embracing a man in public.
"That damn kid!"
Elsewhere, in the upper-class circle, Sayuri nearly exploded when she spotted Takashi.
So what if her daughter couldn't handle him? Does that mean he gets to show up in front of them and hug another woman?
"Sayuri!"
Ignoring Mrs. Yukinoshita's attempt to stop her, Sayuri charged toward Takashi.
"Kid."
Her tone was unfriendly right from the start.
She was ready to intimidate him—but what Takashi said next shocked everyone with its shamelessness.
"Mom, you're here too?"
Sayuri's face turned pitch black.
She'd tried so hard before to get him to call her "Mom," and he wouldn't budge.
Now? In front of everyone, he just drops it like it's nothing?
This little bastard was doing it on purpose.
"…Auntie?"
Kotonoha, not seeing who it was, only heard Takashi call her "Mom." She quickly pulled away, ready to greet his mother politely—only to see Sayuri's darkened expression.
Wait a second. Isn't this Sawamura-san's mother?
Why did Takashi call her mom?
"Who the hell is your mom?!"
Sayuri noticed the growing number of curious and sympathetic stares—and the glances people cast toward her husband.
She wanted nothing more than to throw Takashi to the ground and beat him up.
"My, my… Takashi, did you choose the Sawamura family after all?" Mrs. Yukinoshita, dressed in a graceful kimono, stepped over with her usual elegance.
"Mom, you're here too?"
She had just come to watch the drama, but Takashi's shamelessness almost made her trip over her own feet.
Does this brat just call every woman he sees 'Mom'?
Guests exchanged strange glances.
Ancient times had Lü Bu claiming new fathers. Modern times have Takashi collecting moms.
If they'd been born in the same era, Lü Bu and Takashi might've split the title of "dragon among men."
"You've got quite a few moms, huh?" Sayuri said with a twisted smile.
"What, did you buy them in bulk?"
"Orphaned young. Grew up lacking maternal love," Takashi replied with a grin, not remotely embarrassed.
"Then tell me, Takashi—do you like Sawamura-mama more, or do you prefer me as your mother?" Mrs. Yukinoshita teased, amused by his shameless act.
Sayuri narrowed her eyes at him with a clear message: You'd better think carefully before you answer.
Women, no matter their age, love to compete.
Takashi scratched his chin, glancing back and forth between the two women, eyebrows furrowing in mock agony.
"Having a hard time deciding?" Mrs. Yukinoshita teased.
"Both moms look as young and fresh as college students—I honestly can't choose."
Both women smiled, eyes curved like crescent moons. Clearly pleased.
Say what you want about Takashi being scummy—his sweet talk really was smooth as honey.
"And if you had to choose one?" Mrs. Yukinoshita pressed.
Takashi tilted his head toward Yukinoshita Yukino.
"Dear little sister, what do you think?"
Everyone turned to look.
Yukino, who was busy picking seeds out of her watermelon with a fork, stabbed it hard at the question.
"My mom," she said coldly.
Who the hell is your little sister?
Moron!
"Don't blame me, Mom," Takashi said to Sayuri with a shrug.
Mrs. Yukinoshita stifled a giggle behind her hand. Sayuri, clearly irritated, grabbed Eriri, who had been hiding in the background.
"Why ask Yukino and not Eriri?"
"Little sister, who do you like better?" Takashi asked with a grin, completely unfazed facing his ex.
Eriri couldn't stand the smug look on his face.
A mischievous smile formed at her lips. Takashi instantly sensed danger and tried to interrupt—but it was too late.
She pointed at him.
"I like you, Onii-chan."
Shit!
I knew it!
Takashi's expression turned into pure despair. Kotonoha, meanwhile, smiled sweetly and pinched his side—hard.
Now everyone's attention was drawn to the chaos.
What kind of rich-family soap opera was this?
Even Kaguya couldn't help turning to look.
"Little sister, stop joking—your brother already has—" Takashi began to say he had Kotonoha, but his gaze landed on the cold stare of Hayasaka Ai in the crowd.
Now he was truly sweating. Caught between too many women.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the graceful melody of a waltz began to play.
Thinking fast, Takashi released Kotonoha's hand and walked straight to Shinomiya Kaguya.
"Miss Shinomiya, may I have the honor of this dance?"
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