"I think you should try getting to know more people."
Just before leaving, Yukinoshita said this to Shijou with her back turned.
Shijou Maki had rarely gone out alone before, and never had she cried so shamelessly let alone in front of another girl her age.
But strangely enough, it didn't feel all that bad.
As the daughter of the Shijou family, even though her parents didn't place strict demands on her, she had always held herself to impossibly high standards. Moments like this quiet, unguarded, almost leisurely were foreign to her.
Friendship was a relationship that required time and emotional investment. Shijou didn't have that kind of time.
Besides Kashiwagi, she had no other friends.
Besides Tanuma, she had never liked anyone else.
So what did Yukinoshita mean by that?
Did she… actually want to be friends with her?
Shijou nearly choked on her own thoughts.
Don't kid yourself she's your archenemy!
Soon, a sleek black sedan pulled up beside the musical fountain plaza. A driver in a charcoal gray vest stepped out quickly and opened the door for her.
He even placed his hand over the top edge of the door to protect her from bumping her head, his posture so humble it was as if he wanted to fold himself in half just to serve her.
Shijou Maki frowned ever so slightly but said nothing.
She'd mention it subtly to him later.
Of course, she couldn't report it to the Shijou family's steward. If she did, this newly assigned driver might be dismissed on the spot.
Japan was, after all, a country with an extremely rigid hierarchy senpai and kouhai at school and work, the strong and the weak, the daughter of a conglomerate and a mere chauffeur. The chasm that separated people here ran deep and wide, sorting everyone into their places.
Many who worked for the Shijou family wore that same overly deferential expression.
So no matter how servile they were, Shijou Maki was never surprised.
But she also understood that the only reason she was treated this way was because of the name Shijou.
She didn't resent those who approached her for their own gain, nor did she look down on those who bowed lower and lower just to survive.
She had lived abroad for many years and was simply unaccustomed to the suffocating social hierarchy of Japanese life. That was all.
"I don't feel like going home just yet. I'm going to walk around for a while."
The driver smiled earnestly. "Of course, Miss. Just call when you're ready I'll be nearby."
Shijou Maki didn't object.
In truth, with tensions between the Shijou and Shinomiya families rising, there were always several pairs of bodyguard eyes watching her from the shadows whenever she went out.
Now wasn't the time to throw a tantrum. If something were to happen to her, the consequences would be far worse.
At that moment, a bright-colored sports car rolled by and slowed to a stop. The passenger-side window descended smoothly, revealing a woman at the wheel with stylishly dyed pink hair.
With one hand resting on the steering wheel, the woman smiled cheerfully. "Miss Shijou, why don't you hop in?"
The Shijou family's domestic alliances were primarily with the Shirakawa, Eguchi, and Takeda families, but countless smaller families also sought their favor.
The Katori family was one of them.
Shijou Maki didn't get into the car.
She looked toward the woman. "Katori Mirai?"
Katori Mirai smiled. "At your service."
Shijou Maki was silent for a moment. "I already told you last time, I'm just an irrelevant member of the Shijou family. I have nothing to do with our financial decisions or partnerships."
The Shijou family had spent years cultivating influence in the U.S. and Europe. Their international reputation was immense, and their financial resources were staggering.
Many companies in Japan either dreaming of breaking into overseas markets or struggling to stay afloat longed desperately for the attention of the Shijou family.
At the Shirakawa banquet last time, this very Miss Katori had also attended. Shirakawa Shūji had given Maki a brief rundown of the Katori family's background.
The Katori family's youngest daughter was a sharp, ambitious woman. If she'd been born into another family, she might very well have been named heir.
Unfortunately, she had an older brother one who wasn't incompetent, either.
So all that was left for Miss Katori was to be married off in the name of family alliances, to become the perfect trophy wife.
But she didn't seem ready to accept that fate.
Still smiling, Katori said, "Oh, I wouldn't dream of securing a partnership with the legendary Shijou family. I just want to build some rapport."
"Would you mind sparing a few minutes to hear my pitch? I promise I won't take long or bother you afterward."
Shijou checked the time on her phone. "Go ahead."
She wasn't particularly interested.
She had seen plenty of these so-called entrepreneurs, wandering the world chasing investors.
The Katori family had already chosen their heir, and the Shijou family would only deal with Katori Ryōsuke.
Even though they claimed to stand apart from the decaying Shinomiya clan, the Shijou family was still, at its core, a soulless capitalist machine. When it came to partners like the Katori family just one of many in their network there was little interest beyond what was strictly necessary.
Still, since she was in a decent mood today, Shijou Maki figured she could spare a few minutes.
Katori smiled lightly. "As a lofty heiress of the Shijou family, you probably can't understand what it's like for women in smaller households like mine…"
Shijou's expression remained unreadable.
Ninety-nine percent of the people on this street, combined, still wouldn't have as much money as Katori Mirai. If even she claimed to be powerless, what were ordinary people supposed to do?
Jump off a building?
"But my target customers are precisely those girls trapped by their lack of freedom but drowning in disposable income."
Wow. That's bold. Other people just stew in the pot you're trying to throw your fellow daughters of privilege in there with you.
"For example, the Oda family's daughter. Or the second daughter of the Yukinoshita family. Or that girl from the Hirano family. No matter how beautiful or outstanding they are, their fate is still to be married off like chess pieces. And even the rebellious ones can only get away with dyeing their hair for a year or two before giving in. That's why this demographic needs "
"What did you just say?"
Katori Mirai looked up.
She saw the usually composed Miss Shijou approaching the car, both hands braced against the window frame.
The girl was petite, her features still bearing the faint traces of adolescence, but her lips were drawn into a tense, displeased line.
"Who exactly," she asked, voice low, "are you saying is being forced into a marriage?"
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