"Who the hell schedules a matchmaking meeting over New Year's—?!"
Staring at the message on his phone screen, Kitahara felt a dull ache forming behind his temples.
The only reason Kitahara had dared to relax at year-end was because he'd assumed no sane person would schedule matchmaking meetings during the New Year holiday. At the very least, he thought he'd have another ten days or even half a month before needing to worry.
But he'd apparently forgotten one crucial fact: those two short-tempered old women couldn't be understood using normal logic, no matter what.
And this time, they were absurdly in sync. The instant the bells chimed, they'd not only simultaneously sent New Year greetings but also included notices for matchmaking meetings.
If it were just the notices, Kitahara—who'd mentally prepared himself—could've handled it.
The issue was that these old women weren't just weirdly synchronized in sending their notices. They'd scheduled the meetings for the same day—and even at the exact same place!
If Kitahara hadn't known the elderly Umamusume who ran the clothing shop had poor relations with major Umamusume families—especially the Symboli family—and had zero contact with them, he would've suspected those two spiteful women had teamed up specifically to torment him.
Normally, if two meetings clashed, you'd simply negotiate and stagger the times.
But again—if those old women were reasonable, they wouldn't have scheduled these meetings on New Year's Day in the first place.
Yes, tomorrow. They hadn't even left him any time to prepare.
As for negotiating the schedules… Kitahara would bet his life neither of them would budge.
Even if he asked, he was 99% certain both would say the same thing: make the other side change. Their own side? Absolutely immovable.
"What a disaster…"
Having left the Umamusume who were cleaning up, Kitahara sat alone in his tiny single room, staring at his phone with resignation.
And that wasn't even all the bad news.
Just as the matchmaking notices had blindsided him, Kitahara realized he couldn't contact Symboli Rudolf or Sirius Symboli either—the two he'd previously discussed sabotaging the meetings with.
Maybe it was simply too late and they were already asleep, but either way, it looked like he couldn't count on their help tomorrow.
What was he supposed to do now? Ask Grass Wonder to come along?
But that didn't seem practical. Sure, he'd considered Grass Wonder at first—but back then, he didn't know many people and couldn't find a suitable distraction.
Now, after meeting Symboli Rudolf and Sirius Symboli—both clearly better "shields" than Grass Wonder—he'd stopped mentioning anything about it to her.
So right now, Grass Wonder had no idea about any of this, and she'd already agreed to go on the shrine visit with everyone else.
Dragging Grass Wonder away at this point—ignoring whether she'd even agree on such short notice—would definitely attract everyone's attention. And what might happen after that…
Nobody could predict.
Then what about calling Hayakawa-san? She was also being pressured about marriage, so she should understand. Plus, she hadn't specifically committed to the shrine visit with the others…
Or maybe he could fake an illness—pretend he wasn't feeling well, delay both matchmaking meetings, then reschedule them for different times…
Just as Kitahara was seriously considering how to survive tomorrow's crisis, his phone vibrated again.
Huh? Did Rudolf and Sirius finally reply?
Expectantly, Kitahara opened the message—but after only a few seconds, the hope drained from his eyes, and his brow slowly knitted together.
[LINE]
[Kudou]:Happy New Year—I'd like to say that, but I'm afraid this New Year, especially yours, probably won't be very happy.
[Kitahara]:What's going on? Did the "Black Market" make a move again?
[Kudou]:Not yet, but according to recent intel, one branch within the "Black Market" isrecruiting people and gathering information. They'll probably launch an operation soon.
[Kudou]: Worse, a lot of what they're gathering is related to you, and some of their arrangements seem pointed directly at you.
[Kudou]:My guess is you're likely their main target.
[Kudou]:Stay at the academy if you can. Let me figure out their setup first, then we'll decide our next steps.
[Kitahara]:Got it.
After replying to Kudou-san, Kitahara let out a heavy sigh.
"Why do these bastards keep lingering around like a damn curse…"
Moments ago, he'd been thinking about faking illness and hiding in the academy. But after Kudou-san's message, staying in the dorm wasn't an option.
It wasn't that he had a death wish. The Black Market members were genuinely deranged. Last time, they'd even gone as far as driving a fuel tanker into a daycare. If they were capable of that, there was no telling what insane stunt they'd pull next.
Staying in the dorm might be safer for him—but another attack like that could drag the kids nearby into danger. He absolutely couldn't accept that.
He had to find a way to draw the battle outside. Ideally, he wouldn't just defend—he'd use this opportunity to turn the tables, extracting information from them…
Kitahara quickly made up his mind and began drafting a plan.
He'd said it before: when Kitahara did something—especially something important—he gave it his complete attention.
"Complete focus" sounded positive, and it had indeed helped him a great deal.
It boosted his efficiency in studying and completing tasks—a major reason he'd made it this far.
The downside was this habit of total focus came with a minor flaw.
He couldn't easily split his attention or multitask.
Just like back then, when Grass Wonder had distracted Kitahara with stacks of paperwork.
Soon after turning his thoughts toward the Black Market, Kitahara completely forgot the crisis awaiting him tomorrow, throwing himself wholeheartedly into strategizing against the threat.
When he finally snapped out of it, dawn was near. Sleepiness crept over his eyelids, and he couldn't help yawning.
"Is it already this late…?"
Glancing at the time on his phone, Kitahara set aside the rough draft of his plan, climbed into bed, and slowly closed his eyes.
But just as he was about to drift off, his eyelids twitched.
Strange. Had he forgotten something?
He opened his eyes briefly—then shut them again almost immediately, rolling over and pulling the blanket over his head.
Whatever. If he forgot it, it probably wasn't urgent or important.
Sleep first. Everything else… he'd deal with it tomorrow.
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