Gaio hung up the phone and casually tossed it onto the table.
He glanced up and caught Kitagawa's cheeks puffed out like a little hamster stuffed with nuts, her small mouth pouting just a bit. Those ruby-red eyes that had been sparkling moments ago were now giving him this "super sulky" stare, her whole face screaming, "I'm not happy—come cheer me up!"
Gaio couldn't help but let out a low chuckle at the sight.
"Hmph!" Kitagawa picked up on his laugh right away and whipped her little face away, refusing to look at him, acting all "I'm seriously mad" with a hint of playful whining in her voice.
"The young lady from the Shinomiya family is coming to pick you up? She's really enthusiastic, huh, boyfriend dear." She put extra emphasis on "enthusiastic," dragging it out like it was a big deal.
Gaio just shrugged, keeping his tone super casual. "Well, she's already on her way, right? Free ride means no squeezing onto the subway at least." He said it like it was the most reasonable thing ever.
Kitagawa wrinkled her little nose at that, huffing twice more. She jabbed at the leftover porridge in her bowl with her chopsticks like she was out for revenge, clearly thinking, "I'm pissed, but I'm still gonna finish my food."
Gaio could totally read her mood. Without a word, he reached into his pocket, rummaged around, and with a soft pop, slapped the black card Gojo had given him onto the table, sliding it over to Kitagawa.
He tapped the card lightly with his fingertip, looking at the puffed-up girl. "Xiaomeng."
Her eyes snapped to that sound, landing on the black card that meant unlimited spending. Her ears twitched a little, but she didn't turn back right away.
"Classes are done for the day," Gaio went on. "Wanna go buy a car?"
Those words were pure magic.
Kitagawa's puffed cheeks deflated in an instant. She spun around, her ruby eyes lighting up like fireworks—brighter than when she was eyeing breakfast.
"For real?!" she blurted out, her voice bursting with excitement and anticipation.
But a second later, the shine dimmed a tad as some real-world worry hit her. Her face fell a bit, hesitation creeping in. "I mean, we could... but,"
She glanced at Gaio uncertainly. "Should we at least let Shinotsuka-sis know?"
The "Shinotsuka-sis" she meant was Gaio's manager, Shinotsuka Yayoi, of course.
Having a manager meant you had to think about stuff like that in daily life.
Gaio scooped up a spoonful of porridge, swallowed it, and then said offhandedly, "Huh? Nah, not really necessary. Buying a car's our business. If you wanna tell her, go ahead and shoot her a message."
Kitagawa eyed the black card on the table, picturing the shiny new car that'd soon be hers (and the best part? Paid with Gojo's cash!). Any lingering grumpiness from the young lady's call vanished, swept away by massive shopping hype.
Her brows relaxed, a big smile lit up her face again, and she nodded her head vigorously, her voice bright and bubbly: "Yeah! Sounds good! I'll text her right now! What kinda car? A sports car? Might be too flashy—I've heard they're not comfy to ride in."
Gaio watched her flip from stormy to sunny in seconds, full of energy, and didn't say more. He just picked up his bowl and quietly finished his breakfast.
Sunlight streamed through the window, hitting the table and making the black card gleam, while also spotlighting the girl's newly radiant smile.
Kitagawa was in high spirits now, humming an anime tune as she wolfed down the rest of her breakfast. Then she dashed off to grab her phone, ready to message Shinotsuka Yayoi.
Gaio smiled faintly at her bouncy, eager sprint for the phone, shaking his head lightly. He swiftly cleared their bowls, the sink running with a splash, and soon the kitchen was spotless.
He'd just dried his hands when his phone rang again. The screen flashed "Young Lady" nonstop.
"Here already?" Gaio answered, voice calm.
"Yes, Tian-jun," Kaguya Shinomiya's voice came through the speaker. "The driver and I are waiting outside the gate. No rush."
"Got it."
The call ended quick. Gaio turned toward the living room.
Kitagawa was cross-legged on the couch, fingers flying across her phone screen, a thrilled grin on her face—she was clearly deep in a heated chat with Shinotsuka about the car.
"Xiaomeng, time to head out," Gaio called.
"Ah! Almost done!" She didn't look up, tapping a few more times before hitting send with satisfaction.
She hopped right off the couch, snagging their school uniform jackets from the entryway rack.
Gaio was already at the door, shoes on. Kitagawa trotted over, handed him his jacket, and while bouncing into her shoes, shrugged hers on.
They stepped out the gate, and there was Kaguya Shinomiya, right in view.
She was in a perfectly tailored dark dress, a bold red bow at her chest, hands elegantly clasped in front, her smile flawless—the picture of high-society poise.
Kitagawa snuck a peek and muttered under her breath, "Does she ever get tired holding that pose...?"
Gaio didn't reply, just took her hand and walked straight toward Kaguya.
Kaguya's eyes flicked to their clasped hands, her perfect smile freezing for a split second before snapping back even more polished.
She gave a slight bow to Gaio. "Good day, Tian-jun. It's been too long."
"Yeah, good to see you," Gaio nodded faintly. "Thanks for the ride today."
Just then, Kitagawa stepped half a pace forward, right beside him, flashing a dazzling, almost blinding smile. Her voice rang out clear and chipper: "Oh wow, good day, Shinomiya young lady! Sorry to put you out like this—having someone so high-class personally picking up us two 'commoners.' What an inconvenience!"
She hit "commoners" extra hard, and that fake "guilty" tone sounded totally like teasing.
Kaguya's smile didn't budge, like she hadn't caught the subtext at all. She turned to Kitagawa with a slight bow of her own. "You're too kind, Kitagawa-san. Getting to chauffeur Tian-jun is an honor."
She stressed "chauffeur Tian-jun" all natural-like, basically erasing Kitagawa from the equation, like she was just an extra.
Then she pivoted to Gaio, her tone just the right mix of concern and familiarity: "Tian-jun, shall we? I had the chef prep your favorite soy milk—still warm."
Kitagawa's smile froze for half a beat, a flash of annoyance in her red eyes.
She squeezed Gaio's arm tighter on purpose.
Gaio acted like he missed the silent girl-on-girl battle, just murmuring, "Sure."
He tugged the still-fidgeting Kitagawa toward the back seat.
The driver had the door open respectfully.
Kaguya kept her poised smile, watching Gaio duck in first, followed by Kitagawa slipping in like a triumphant little peacock, claiming the spot right next to him.
Door shut, and Kitagawa was smug inside—she'd snagged the seat by Gaio, blocking Kaguya out.
But nope—the door on the other side swung open, and Kaguya slid in smooth and quick, settling on Gaio's other side.
Kitagawa's smug look turned to stone, eyes going wide as she stared at Kaguya taking the empty spot.
Kaguya sat ramrod straight, hands lightly on her knees, that perfect smile in place, like it was no big deal.
She even nodded slightly at the glaring Kitagawa. "Plenty of space in here—sitting apart keeps everyone comfy."
She made it sound all proper and etiquette-approved.
Kitagawa watched Kaguya sandwich Gaio between them, her cheeks ballooning out like a pufferfish in rage, those ruby eyes practically shooting flames.
She gripped Gaio's arm harder, silently yelling—This woman's too sneaky!
Gaio felt the pressure on his arm and the sudden "heat" from her side, but his face stayed blank, though his mouth twitched a bit.
Shouldn't have agreed to let Kaguya pick us up.
Kaguya, ignoring the death glare, pulled a fancy insulated box from the front seat and took out a delicate bone china cup, steam wafting from the top.
"Tian-jun, your soy milk." Her voice was soft as she handed it over, the aroma filling the car.
But before it reached Gaio, a hand shot out like lightning and snatched it!
Kitagawa grabbed the cup in a blur, chugging a big gulp before either of them could react.
"Pfft—!" She stuck out her tongue dramatically, face scrunched in exaggerated disgust. "Whoa~ way too sweet! Super cloying! Tian-jun doesn't go for stuff this sugary anymore!"
She casually shoved the cup back at Kaguya, a smug glint in her eye.
Kaguya's grip on the cup tightened just a hair, but her smile stayed flawless, though her eyes cooled off.
"Is that so?" Her voice stayed gentle, but with a counterpunch edge. "I clearly remember sharing breakfasts with Tian-jun before—he always loved this level of sweetness."
She leaned into "before" and "sharing breakfasts."
Kitagawa bristled like a cat with its tail stepped on, eyes bulging as she shot back: "That was back then! Shinotsuka-sis said Tian-jun's uric acid levels need watching—he's switched to milk now! Right, Tian-jun?"
She shook his arm for backup.
Kaguya, prepared, dabbed her mouth with a handkerchief elegantly, looking all regretful with a "you wouldn't get it" vibe. "Oh? What a shame. I recall Tian-jun always preferring the warmth of breakfasts—like rich soy milk with fresh fried dough sticks, or steaming pork buns..."
She paused, her gaze drifting over Gaio with a smile. "So, I specially asked our chef to prep fresh dishes for lunch—delivered right to school. For. Tian. Jun."
Kitagawa's smugness froze, the fire in her red eyes flaring higher. She hugged Gaio's arm tight, staking her claim.
Then, a lightbulb went off—she remembered the mirror from that morning. A sly grin crept onto her face.
Her grip loosened suddenly.
She fanned her neck with her hand, voice all soft and whiny: "Man, is it this warm in here? Feeling kinda hot..."
Before anyone could respond, her fingers deftly undid the top button of her shirt, baring her pale neck.
She did it slow on purpose, zeroing in on those fresh hickeys, exposing them to the stuffy car air—and straight into Kaguya's close-up view.
Kitagawa could feel Kaguya's gaze lock on the marks, freezing solid. Mission accomplished!
She gasped like she'd just noticed, "Oh no~"
Fingers flew to button it back up, like total accident.
Blush bloomed on her cheeks right on cue. She shot a pouty glance at the stone-faced Gaio, voice dripping honey: "Sorry about that, my bad... All 'cause boyfriend dear got so passionate, I have to button up extra tight now."
She milked "passionate" and "extra tight," throwing a triumphant, taunting look at Kaguya.
The car air dropped to freezing.
Kaguya's perfect smile cracked for real.
It hung on by a thread, but the warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by icy darkness swirling deep.
Her knuckles whitened on her lap, nearly crushing the fancy handkerchief.
She took a deep breath, slowly turning away from the glaring marks on Kitagawa's neck. Facing Gaio again, her voice softened even more, but with a stormy calm: "Tian-jun, looks like your tastes have... changed a lot. No worries—Shinomiya chefs excel at handling all kinds of shifts."
Her gaze stayed steady on him, like she saw nothing, but the emotions brewing in her eyes were dangerously deep.
Stuck in the middle of the silent storm, Gaio felt the chill blasting from his right and the gloating sparks from his left.
He shut his eyes, throat bobbing, and finally muttered a useless:
"...Yeah." His voice carried exhausted resignation. This ride's more draining than a fight.
Kitagawa, seeing Kaguya barely holding it together, was over the moon inside—like a cat that scored the cream. She snuggled back into Gaio's arm, resting her head on his shoulder, and stuck out a tiny tongue at the window.
In the glass reflection, Kaguya's icy profile showed her smile straining to hold, with murder brewing in her eyes.