For three whole days, Utaha drifted through the apartment like a ghost.
It wasn't until the fourth night that she finally seemed to recover. Carrying a cup of freshly steeped black tea, she stepped into the living room where Seiji Fujiwara sat.
This time, she didn't just set the cup down and leave. She stood quietly at his side.
"Looks like you've made up your mind?" Seiji lifted his head, his smile unsurprised.
"…Yeah."
Utaha nodded, her voice low, expression heavy. "That… thirty million…"
The moment those words left her mouth, her cheeks flushed, her breathing quickened.
A week ago, she had declared with absolute confidence that she would earn money through her writing, brushing off Seiji's harsh critique with contempt.
Reality, however, had struck her with a brutal punch.
Now she was back here, swallowing her pride, bowing her head before him again. The humiliation and shame of that reversal made her want to crawl into the ground and disappear.
"I've had the thirty million set aside for you this whole time," Seiji said with an easy smile.
His calm, gentle tone made Utaha blink in surprise.
She had expected mockery. None came.
That unexpected reprieve made her secretly exhale in relief. Worse, she even felt a flicker of gratitude toward him—something she shouldn't have felt at all. A tiny crack opened in the wall around her heart.
But Utaha didn't realize it yet.
"Sit." Seiji gestured at the sofa across from him.
She obeyed, sitting down primly, posture stiff and proper.
"The money, I can give you," Seiji leaned back, smiling lazily. "But our arrangement needs an upgrade. Three new conditions."
"Go ahead." Utaha nodded, face serious.
"Condition one: starting today, you're no longer just a short-term mistress. You'll be my lover, permanently. No time limit—until I tire of you."
She had already expected this.
Utaha sighed inwardly. There was no escaping her fate as his caged canary. But after three days of cooling down, she had already resolved herself.
So her face didn't change. Calmly, she nodded.
"No problem."
"Good. Condition two…" Seiji's eyes glinted with mischief, his gaze drifting suggestively past her shoulder. "Your body has to open up to me further. For example… that place you've always refused—I want no barriers anymore."
The moment she sensed where his eyes lingered, Utaha's face went crimson all the way to her ears.
She instantly recalled how many times his fingers had hovered there before, teasing, circling, never quite crossing the line.
So this man had been biding his time, waiting to pounce!
A wave of shame and anger surged in her chest, but she also understood: as his lover, things like this… were expected.
Plenty of couples indulged in such things, after all.
So even with her cheeks burning, Utaha forced herself to nod. "…Fine."
Seeing her agree, Seiji's smile widened. He had been waiting for this for so long. The thrill of that conquest would be unlike anything else.
"Condition three. The most important one." His tone turned firm. "From now on, when you serve me—you have to take the initiative."
Utaha blinked, stunned. "Am I not obedient enough already?"
From her perspective, she had abandoned all pride, all shame. She had done everything he asked, without exception—aside from a few things she simply couldn't accept.
But Seiji only shook his head slowly, his lips curling into a sly smile.
"Obedient? That word itself means passive, unwilling. I don't want just compliance. I want your initiative. Your effort. Understand?"
Utaha's face went blank with confusion.
Seeing she didn't get it, Seiji gave an example. "Just treat yourself like one of those characters in certain doujinshi, whose sole existence is to please their master. That's what I want from you."
"When you serve me, my pleasure comes first. Think of ways yourself, use your strengths, learn, improve. Develop new techniques that can make me happier. Got it?"
She got it.
But the moment she understood, her face twisted.
He wanted her to actively study those shameless, degrading things? That felt even worse than being ordered around.
It was humiliating.
Yet when she thought about it again, all Utaha felt was a crushing sense of helplessness.
What right did she have to cling to dignity anymore?
After a long silence, she sighed softly, letting go of the last scrap of pride in her heart.
Bitterly, she nodded. "…I understand."
"Good." Seiji's satisfaction was obvious.
"Then, as the first lesson under our new contract—" he pointed to the floor before him "—let's start with the basics."
Everyone knew—
There were certain techniques that made even invasive procedures painless. With the right breathing, the right relaxation, it became easy.
And those techniques weren't limited to medical checkups.
They could be applied elsewhere.
…
…
The next morning, Utaha Kasumigaoka awoke with a weary groan.
The memories of last night's humiliating "lesson" came flooding back—how she had lowered herself without resistance, how she had yielded completely.
"Tch…"
Clicking her tongue in disgust, she was startled to realize something.
In the past, she would have been drowning in shame by now, curled up under the covers, unable to face the day.
But today… her heart was strangely calm.
As if once her bottom line had been shattered, nothing really mattered anymore.
"Damn you, Seiji Fujiwara!"
She spat out the habitual curse at that scumbag.
Dragging her exhausted body, she stumbled into the master bedroom's bathroom to wash up.
Afterward, as always, she moved into the kitchen to make breakfast.
Seiji, naturally, wouldn't bother. If she couldn't get up, he'd just order delivery.
This bastard's stamina is inhuman…
As she cooked, her back aching, Utaha scowled inwardly. He's like some kind of beast, never tiring at all!
She was dead on her feet.
Yet he still managed to sneak in a "morning workout" before she even woke up.
How does he keep going like that?!
The thought made her uneasy. If things kept up this way… could she really endure it?