"Shopping?"
Utaha Kasumigaoka peeked out from the kitchen, confusion flickering across her beautiful face.
She still had a maid apron tied around her waist, her long black hair loosely gathered behind her head, exposing the elegant curve of her pale neck. If the boys at Toyonozaki ever saw her like this—a perfect picture of a domestic goddess—they'd probably riot.
"Get changed. You're coming with me."
Seiji Fujiwara didn't bother to explain.
Utaha's lips pressed into a faint line, her chest tightening with reluctance.
She'd planned to spend the night refining her outline. His explosive success had lit a fire in her, a desperation to write, to prove herself.
But a contract was a contract.
Quietly, she untied her apron and slipped into simple, tasteful casual wear.
By the time she stepped out again, Seiji was already waiting at the door like a landlord ready to summon his tenant.
The two left without a word, rode the elevator down, and climbed into a taxi.
Outside the window, the city blurred by in streaks of neon. Inside the cramped cab, silence pressed down.
Utaha opened her mouth once, twice, to ask where they were going. But one look at the man beside her, eyes closed as if meditating, and she swallowed the words.
She realized she understood this man less and less.
Sometimes he seemed like a lazy, unmotivated kid. Other times, he radiated the calm precision of a strategist.
He'd written a book in three days that had shattered her confidence. He'd stayed unshaken even as the entire internet howled against him. That composure stung more than she wanted to admit.
And now… what was he planning?
The taxi weaved left and right before finally stopping in front of a dazzlingly lit building.
Utaha looked up—four interlocking rings, a row of elegant letters: LEXUS.
Her brows knit.
A car?
"Out," Seiji said flatly.
She didn't argue. She followed him into the showroom.
Almost immediately, a tall, striking saleswoman in a fitted skirt suit approached, her smile flawless.
"Welcome to Lexus. How may I help you two today?"
Her eyes flicked over them.
The man was young, handsome, carrying himself with an oddly heavy presence. The woman was stunning. But both looked too young, too out of place for customers here.
She hid her doubts beneath perfect professionalism.
Seiji ignored her greeting. His gaze swept the showroom, then stopped dead center—on the beast crouched under the lights.
A black Lexus LS500h Executive.
The flagship sedan. Sleek, predatory lines gleamed like a panther coiled to strike. Priced north of sixteen million yen, it was a palace on wheels.
Before the saleswoman could even open her mouth, Seiji lifted a finger toward it.
"This one. Top trim. Full payment. Can I drive it off today?"
Her smile faltered.
She froze, brain stuttering.
Full… full payment? Today?!
Was this a joke?!
This wasn't a rice ball from a convenience store. This was the LS. The flagship. Sixteen million yen.
She'd dealt with billionaires, executives, heirs. But never had she heard anyone order a car of this class the way someone would pick up a head of cabbage.
No test drive. No questions. Not even a glance at the price tag.
The raw force of it hit her chest like a sledgehammer.
"Sir… are you sure? This is our flagship—"
"Did you not understand me?" Seiji's brow twitched, impatience slipping into his tone.
That hint of irritation worked like a whip.
"I understand! Perfectly! Right away, sir!" The woman straightened instantly, her smile blossoming with heat. "We'll prepare everything immediately! Please wait just a moment!"
She sprinted off, heels pounding against the polished floor in a staccato rhythm, terrified the golden fish might leap away if she slowed.
Utaha stood frozen.
Her mind blank.
Sixteen million…
He was just going to buy it? Like that?
It was a way of thinking she couldn't grasp.
Even before her father's downfall, when her family still lived comfortably, no one would've dreamed of dropping tens of millions on a whim.
The paperwork flew by in a blur. With the saleswoman buzzing like a wasp around him, documents and insurance were processed at record speed.
At the final step, Seiji casually produced a pitch-black bank card and handed it over.
The saleswoman's fingers trembled as she punched in a number long enough to equal her lifetime's labor. When the approval message popped up, she nearly forgot how to breathe.
Her eyes when she looked at Seiji again had changed completely.
No longer polite respect. Raw, hungry desire.
A walking gold mine.
"Your card, sir."
She stepped closer than necessary as she returned it, perfume heavy in the air. Her fingers grazed his palm as she slipped him her business card, voice dropping into a sultry whisper.
"Sir, if you have time tonight… I could give you a more… in-depth introduction to the car."
She bit down on the word "in-depth," the meaning as obvious as the curve of her lips.
What man could refuse such an invitation?
Seiji slid his hand back, expression cold. "Not interested."
Her smile froze.
The fire in her eyes sputtered out, leaving only stunned disbelief.
What did she lack? Wasn't she enough? Surely she was more enticing than that plain, wooden high school girl standing nearby…
She'd never know.
Seiji's tastes had already been spoiled—raised to the level of Utaha Kasumigaoka, a one-of-a-kind collector's piece. For mass-produced charm, he didn't even spare a glance.
Rebuffed, the saleswoman could only watch bitterly as he took the keys and walked out with the wooden doll of a girl at his side.
The black Lexus LS growled to life, gliding from the showroom like a phantom and vanishing into the night.
Inside, silence.
The luxury sedan's impeccable soundproofing sealed the world away.
Utaha sat stiff in the passenger seat, fingers knotting in her lap.
Her mind reeled, struggling to process the last thirty minutes.
From showroom entrance to sitting inside a machine worth over sixteen million yen—it had passed like a fever dream.
The flashing numbers. The saleswoman's burning eyes.
All of it replayed in fast-forward inside her skull.
It felt surreal, absurd.
Yet the man at the wheel drove calmly, face unreadable.
To him, this was nothing more than another routine purchase.
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You can read up to chapter 49 on patreon.com/NiaXD.