So...

My sister, Akane, is letting a man live with her.

And I, her devoted younger brother, Inui Seishu, only found out about it A WEEK later. A whole week! I was boiling with a mixture of shock, betrayal, and sheer panic. How could she be so reckless? What if this guy is a con artist, a freeloader, a pervert? My mind conjured up every worst-case scenario from cheap dramas. If this parasite so much as looks at her wrong, if he does a single thing that hurts her... I'll beat him to a pulp. Or worse. Kokonoi hasn't heard the news yet—he'd probably have a spreadsheet analyzing the guy's potential threat level and net worth by now—but today, I'm taking matters into my own hands. I'm going to see this seducer-of-my-sister for myself.

Ding dong.

I rang the bell of Akane's apartment, my posture rigid with righteous fury.

"Konnichiwa?" I knocked sharply on the door. "Is there anyone here?"

The lock clicked. The door opened.

And my prepared speech about boundaries and threats died in my throat.

Standing there was a blond man, maybe 165 cm, wearing a soft-looking beige apron over a simple t-shirt. His eyes... they were a blue so clear and pure they looked like shattered sky, wide and staring at me with the cautious wariness of a small animal who's spotted a hawk. He looked... cute. The apron, the slightly too-big sleeves, the way he peered up at me... it was like a scene of a worried wife greeting someone at the door.

Snap out of it, Inui! I mentally screamed, giving my own cheeks a light, sharp slap. This was the enemy! The parasite!

"Ano?" he said, his voice soft and wary. "Are you... Seishu? Inui Seishu? Akane's younger brother?"

He knew my name. Of course, Akane would have told him. I forced myself to focus. I'm above average height, slim, dressed in my usual modified uniform and—yes—my signature platform heels that added a few crucial centimeters. My pale skin, the deep burn scar tainting my left eye from the fire that should have taken us both, my middle-parted sunflower blonde hair. I am Inui Seishu of the Black Dragons, not some flustered schoolboy.

"Ah.. yes, I am!" I said, perhaps too loudly, extending my hand in a stiff, formal gesture.

He took it. His hand was smaller, warmer. We shook. "Akane told me a few times about you," he said, offering a small, tentative smile that somehow didn't feel dishonest. "Please, come in."

The gesture disarmed me. I mechanically toed off my high heels, placing them neatly in the genkan—the spot Akane always designated—and stepped inside.

"Wow."

This was my single, stunned thought. My sister is a clean freak, but this... this was something else. The apartment smelled faintly of lemon and fresh linen. Every surface gleamed. The light seemed to bounce more cheerfully off spotless floors. The cushions on the sofa were plumped into perfect symmetry. It was unnervingly, impossibly pleasant. This guy had clearly been in a cleaning frenzy before my arrival.

"I just finished cleaning," he said, as if reading my mind. "Would you like something to eat or drink?"

"Oh, wait!" He blinked, as if remembering his manners. "I forgot! My name is Hanagaki Takemichi. I was your sister's patient, and she was kind enough to let me stay with her." He delivered this with a bright, blinding smile that hit me with the force of a spotlight. Oh my god, is this what they mean by an 'angel'? It's so bright! I had to fight the urge to shield my eyes.

"I... I can have anything. I don't mind," I managed to stammer out. The whole situation was throwing me completely off-script. This wasn't a greasy-haired leech. This was a... a domestic goddess. The imagery was overwhelming: a wife asking her husband what he wanted after a hard day's work. The thought sent an uncontrollable blush scorching across my cheeks. No, no, no! Wrong narrative!

Takemichi just nodded cheerfully and bustled into the kitchen. He returned with a beautifully arranged tray: homemade barley tea with a slice of lemon, a small plate of perfectly cut fruit, and some delicate-looking rice crackers. He served it with a quiet efficiency that was mesmerizing.

He didn't want a repeat of... something? No, that didn't make sense. But his attitude was so deliberately gentle, so focused on making a good impression, that my hackles lowered against my will. He is so cute, the treacherous thought whispered again. How can Akane have found such a cute guy? I'm... jealous? I ate the snacks, sneaking glances at him as he sat politely across from me. If he knew what I was thinking, he'd probably hit me on the head and yell about how unmanly it was.

Trying to regain some footing, I asked, "How old are you, Hanagaki?"

"I'm 16," he answered, his face the picture of innocent honesty.

Splurttt!

I choked. The juice I'd just sipped shot out of my nose and mouth, spraying across the immaculate kotatsu. The beautiful, clean surface was now a sticky, dotted mess.

Takemichi's face fell. A visible, soul-crushing dismay clouded those crystal-blue eyes. I could almost hear his internal wail: Huhuhu... I just cleaned! It hasn't even been an hour!

"You're... young," I croaked, wiping my face, mortification layering over my shock. Sixteen?! My sister was housing a teenage boy! The scenarios in my mind rapidly shifted from 'dangerous lover' to 'worried maternal figure,' but it didn't fully compute.

We talked more, the atmosphere awkward but softening. He asked polite questions, and I found myself talking—really talking—about the Black Dragons. About the fearsome, mountain-like presence of our leader, Taiju Shiba of the 9th Generation. About my best friend, the financial genius Hajime Kokonoi. Takemichi listened with a focused intensity that was flattering, his eyes lighting up with recognition at the names. But when I mentioned Taiju's siblings in passing, a profound, inexplicable sadness shadowed his face. It was strange, deep, and didn't seem to fit the conversation.

Eventually, Akane came home. She took one look at us, at the (wiped clean, but slightly damp) kotatsu, and her eyes narrowed at me. "Seishu. You're disturbing our personal space. Time to go." She practically shooed me out the door.

As I was being ejected, I saw Takemichi behind her, giving a small, happy wave. Akane turned to him, her stern expression melting into something soft. The image was... domestic. Heh, I could almost hear Akane's triumphant thought, Only I, Akane Inui, deserve this 'husband treatment.' Takemichi is my wife. If he heard that, he'd probably cry about his masculinity.

I returned to the Black Dragons' base, my head spinning. I found Koko surrounded by ledgers and laptops, the blue light reflecting off his glasses.

"Koko. You will not believe this. There's a person living with Akane."

The reaction was instantaneous and glorious. Koko's head snapped up so fast his glasses slid down his nose. His eyes, usually cool and calculating, bulged. "WHAT?!" The scream was high-pitched, full of genuine horror, and echoed through the warehouse.

From the shadowy corner where he was trying to nap, a colossal form stirred. Taiju Shiba sat up, his expression one of volcanic annoyance. "SHUT. UP." The next sound was a meaty THWACK as his fist connected with the back of Koko's head, sending him and his chair sprawling into a pile of loose yen notes.

"Investigate," Taiju growled, lying back down. "Then shut up."

Rubbing his head, Koko's shock solidified into icy, analytical determination. A variable had entered the equation of Akane Inui, a variable that threatened the stability of his best friend and, by extension, his own carefully managed world. This variable had to be quantified and neutralized.

His chance came later that same day. Using his resources, he learned Takemichi had gone out to a nearby market to buy groceries for Akane. Koko positioned himself near the exit, a picture of casual menace in his sharp suit, leaning against his expensive car.

He saw him then: Hanagaki Takemichi, looking even smaller and more ordinary in a simple jacket, carrying reusable bags full of vegetables. The famous 'angelic' smile was absent, replaced by a look of focused concentration as he checked a list.

Koko stepped into his path. "Hanagaki Takemichi."

Takemichi looked up, those blue eyes registering not fear, but a mild, polite curiosity. "Yes? Do I... know you?"

"Kokonoi Hajime. A... friend of the Inui family." He adjusted his glasses, his gaze scanning Takemichi like a spectrometer analyzing a dubious mineral. "I understand you're currently residing with Akane Inui. As someone who cares for her well-being, I've come to make you a proposition."

Takemichi blinked. "A proposition?"

"Yes. I am a businessman. I believe in clear transactions." Koko reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek, black envelope. He handed it to Takemichi. "Inside, you'll find ¥500,000 in cash. Consider it a... relocation fund. In exchange, you will leave Akane's apartment today and cease all contact. This is for everyone's benefit."

This was Koko's world. Everyone had a price. Greed was the universal constant. This kid, coming from nothing, living off Akane's kindness, would see this money as a lottery win. He'd snatch it, his eyes would gleam with avarice, and the problem would be solved.

Takemichi took the envelope. He opened it. He looked at the thick stack of crisp bills.

And then he did something that short-circuited Kokonoi Hajime's entire worldview.

He tilted his head, confused. Not excited, not greedy. Confused. Like Koko had just handed him a live squid.

"Um... thank you?" Takemichi said, his tone genuinely perplexed. "But... why would I take this? Akane gave me a place to stay when I had nowhere to go. I'm cooking and cleaning to help out. It wouldn't be right to just leave because of money."

Koko stared. The script was in tatters. "It's half a million yen. You could rent your own place. Buy things."

Takemichi's brow furrowed, as if Koko were speaking a faintly ridiculous language. "But... I don't need those things right now. I need to help Akane. She's been very kind to me." He carefully slid the money back into the envelope and held it out to Koko. "Please, take this back. It doesn't feel right."

The envelope hung in the air between them. A silence stretched, filled with the distant sounds of traffic and the utterly deafening collapse of Koko's core belief. Low interest in money whatsoever. The phrase appeared in his mind like an error code. This variable was not quantifiable in yen. It was an anomaly. An impossibility.

A slow, hot wave of second-hand embarrassment washed over Koko. He, the brilliant financier, had just tried to buy off what appeared to be a genuinely decent, simple-hearted kid with a strong sense of loyalty. And he had been refused not with anger, but with gentle, baffled principle. He felt uncharacteristically foolish, like he'd brought a spreadsheet to a poetry reading.

He slowly took the envelope back, tucking it away as if it were evidence of a crime. "...I see," he said, his voice uncharacteristically flat.

Takemichi offered him that small, tentative smile again. "It was nice to meet you, Kokonoi-san. Akane and Seishu speak highly of you. I should get these groceries back." He gave a slight bow and walked away, leaving the master manipulator standing on the sidewalk, utterly and completely defeated by the sheer, unmonetizable power of a pure heart and a well-washed apron.

Koko stood there for a long time, watching the retreating figure. Finally, he pulled out his phone and texted Inui.

>> Your sister's 'parasite' is a non-financial asset. Threat level: Unclear. Method of removal: Currently, none. Further analysis required.
>> He called me 'Kokonoi-san.'
>> It was... unsettling.

What do you mean, unsettling? He is cute! <<

>> He is not interested in the money I offered when asked to leave Akane  💔

Of course, do you really think everyone will bow to money? <<

>> Well...

Damn money brain, all you think is money, I'm done! <<

>> ......

>> ༼;'༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽