It was Friday.
As usual, Kiryu Kazuma strolled over to the front of Etsukawa Girls' with the class rep, reviewing his study notes while waiting to pick up his sister.
But today, something surprised him—Nanjo-san was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Nanjo?" Kazuma asked Chiyoko directly.
"She said there was something going on at home and asked for leave today," Chiyoko replied. Then, grinning mischievously, she added, "Bro, you seem awfully concerned about Nanjo-senpai. Have you… made your choice?"
"As a shihan-dai, is it so strange for me to care about a fellow dojo student?" Kazuma shot back.
"Nope, no problem at all! It's just… well, I'd like to know what kind of sister-in-law I'm getting, so I'll know how to get along with her."
The class rep interrupted crisply. "Let's go. The used bookstore we're visiting today closes at six-thirty. We'd better hurry."
"Yes, yes," Kazuma responded as he picked up the pace. But even as they walked on, he couldn't help glancing back toward Etsukawa Girls' one more time, worry flickering in his gaze.
At that very moment, Nanjo Honami was at home, carefully preparing herself in front of the mirror.
Ever since she was little, her family had custom-made a new kimono for her every year.
In an ordinary Japanese household, there might be a single heirloom kimono—brought out only for the most important occasions.
Take Chiyoko, for instance. The only fine kimono she owned had been her mother's, passed down to her.
But the Nanjo family had long since transcended the bounds of "ordinary."
Traditional Japanese kimono had been designed for petite, slightly undernourished Japanese women of the past. They weren't exactly well-suited to someone like Nanjo Honami, who was tall and full-figured.
To make the kimono fit properly and preserve its silhouette, Honami had to bind her chest tightly with layers of wrapping—flattening her "exuberant pectorals" with sheer force.
The result? She could barely breathe.
What's more, kimonos naturally restricted movement. Ever since putting it on, Honami had felt terribly uncomfortable.
A kendo uniform is so much easier to wear, she thought as she looked at her reflection, though she couldn't deny one thing:
It really does look beautiful.
The maid attending to her hair and makeup beamed with praise. "Young miss, you're absolutely stunning today! The councilman's second son will surely be utterly smitten the moment he lays eyes on you."
Honami forced a faint smile.
So what? she thought. Even if someone I dislike falls for me, what good is that?
Another maid, adjusting the obi at her waist, added, "To make it easier for you when you perform your sword dance later, I've kept the obi a little looser than usual. Please be careful when walking—if it comes undone, that would be… most embarrassing."
Kimono relied heavily on the obi for structure. Loosen it too much, and the entire outfit could unravel with a single movement.
But Honami had been trained extensively in wearing kimono since childhood. She knew exactly how to manage it.
Finally, the last touch—a decorative hair ornament—was placed atop her styled hair.
Now, the figure reflected in the mirror looked less like a girl and more like a work of art.
At that moment, another maid entered the dressing room. "Young miss, it's nearly time. Your father asks that you wait at the front entrance for the councilman's arrival."
In the Nanjo household, when someone referred to "the master," it usually meant Nanjo Hiroshi—the retired head of the family. Honami's father, Nanjo Masahito, was generally addressed as "Nanjo-san" or, as the maid had just done, "your father."
"I'll be right there," Honami replied with a nod.
Nanjo Masahito's face lit up as he saw his daughter emerge from the main house, flanked by maids.
When it came to his daughter's appearance, he was nothing if not confident.
To showcase that confidence, he strode forward and made a show of adjusting her kimono collar.
Of course, it was purely for appearances—he didn't dare pull too hard for fear of undoing the whole ensemble.
"Remember," he said, "you're to sit close to young Master Asakura tonight. After all, once this evening is over, the engagement will be official. So be a little more intimate. Be sure to pour his drinks frequently. If you can manage an 'ah~' feeding moment, even better."
Honami blinked, momentarily confused, then realized he meant feeding him with her own hands. Her expression instantly soured.
Masahito hastily backpedaled. "No need to feed him! That's fine, that's fine! But you must be careful not to shame the family—or offend the councilman. Understood?"
"I understand, Father," Honami replied calmly.
"Excellent, excellent. Just remember—sit close! Oh, by the way, what perfume are you wearing tonight?" Masahito leaned in to sniff. "What's this scent? Why not Chanel? The councilman's wife loves Chanel. If you wore Chanel, it would trigger fond memories for them!"
Without missing a beat, Honami countered smoothly, "Which Chanel fragrance? There are dozens, you know."
That stopped her father in his tracks. "Uh… well… um…"
Seizing the opportunity, Honami went on, "This is Estée Lauder's newest release. It's very popular among young women—very fashionable."
"I-is that so?" Masahito sighed in relief. "Good, good. But… isn't it a bit too light? Should you spray a little more?"
"I just applied it," Honami explained patiently. "Right now it's still in the top note phase. As time passes and it interacts with the air, the scent will deepen into the middle notes."
"Oh, I see!" Masahito nodded enthusiastically. "Good, good!"
At that moment, the councilman's car rolled through the front gates.
Masahito hurried forward to greet it, a servant scrambling behind him with an umbrella.
Once her own maids had opened a delicate paper parasol for her, Honami followed gracefully after her father.
Councilman Asakura himself radiated a certain robust energy despite his age, though he was noticeably balding—a common enough sight for men his age.
As for his son, Asakura Yasunori, who stepped out of the car first… well, he actually looked a bit like a celebrity.
But at this point, Honami's heart echoed the words Jin Yong had penned at the end of White Horse Neighing West Wind:
"Among the Han people, there were many handsome, valiant young men… dashing and elegant youths… But this beautiful maiden, stubborn as the ancient people of Gaochang, thought: 'They may be fine and good—but I simply do not like them.'"
And so, she donned her most professional smile, waiting for her father to introduce her.
The moment Asakura Yasunori laid eyes on her, he froze—utterly spellbound. It took him a full three seconds to recover.
Just then, the two fathers finished exchanging pleasantries and moved on to introducing their children.
Beaming, Masahito said warmly, "Young Master Asakura, this is my daughter, Nanjo Honami."
"Good evening," Honami greeted him with a polite smile.
Masahito continued, "And this is Councilman Asakura's second son, Asakura Yasunori."
Taking a deep breath, Yasunori struck a pose straight out of a British period drama—one hand behind his back as he bowed.
"My beautiful lady, may I have the honor of kissing your hand?"
Honami smiled sweetly.
"No, you may not."
(End of Chapter)