TOJI'S POV

I should've punched that woman.

The audacity—to bump into (Y/N), spill an entire cup of coffee on her white shirt, and act like it was her fault?

I should've knocked her teeth in. But no—I played the civilized man. Kept my hands to myself. For her sake.

Even after I left the café with Ren- my bodyguard-, I couldn't shake the way (Y/N) looked at me. Those wide, innocent eyes. Her lips—full, soft, tempting. And her hair... catching the café's warm light like it was spun from sunlight.

I ran a hand through my hair and slid into the backseat of the car, jaw clenched tight.

Ren got in the front, started the engine, and didn't say a word for a solid minute. I knew where we were going—and I hated every second of it.

,,This time," Ren said eventually, his voice dry and unreadable, ,,maybe don't run off before dinner's done."

I scoffed:,,Would be easier if they stopped trying to control my life."

He said nothing else, just drove. We pulled up in front of the villa—tall, cold, and black like a damn mausoleum. I stared at it, dread crawling up my spine.

Ren was already out of the car by the time I made myself move. He rang the bell.

The door swung open, and there she was.

,,Toji!" my mother beamed, pulling me into a hug.

I stiffened. I hugged her back, just barely.

,,Good evening, ma'am," Ren said politely behind me.

,,Ah, Yoshido!", she smiled, always too fond of my bodyguard, ,,Come in, both of you."

We walked through the hall into the kitchen. My eyes landed on the man sitting at the far end of the long wooden table—my father. Same cold glare. Same perfect posture.

Great.

I sat down. My mother placed a plate of steaming food in front of me like this was some warm family dinner and not an interrogation.

Silence stretched for a beat too long before my father spoke.

,,So. No greetings now?"

I gripped my fork hard enough my knuckles whitened.  ,,Hello, Father," I bit out.

He gave a noncommittal grunt and took a bite of his food:,,How's Megumi?"

,,He's fine."

,,Why didn't you bring him?"

My mother, gentler but still complicit, chimed in:,,Yes, we haven't seen him in weeks."

,,He was sleeping," I muttered, ,,And I stopped at a café."

At that, my mother gave me a soft, unreadable look. Like she knew something but didn't want to say it.

Then came the question I'd been dreading.

,,And?", my father's voice was far too casual, ,,Have you finally found a woman?"

I froze.

There it was. The real reason they dragged me here.

They weren't worried about me. They were worried about reputation. About Megumi growing up without the illusion of a perfect family. About the press sniffing around.

They wanted a high-status woman to slap next to my name. A polished lie.

,,Well...", I started, eyes fixed on the table, ,,Not exactly, I—"

,,It doesn't matter," my father cut in, wiping his mouth with a napkin, ,,We've already found the perfect candidate."

My head snapped up.

,,I didn't finish my sentence," I said, voice low and sharp, ,,I have met someone. I just haven't asked her out yet."

,,Hm", he met my glare with one of his own, ,,Then cut contact. Now."

My blood boiled.

,,No," I said, standing my ground, ,,I won't."

His brow twitched. ,,No? So you've fallen in love again?", his voice was dripping with disdain, ,,Did you forget what happened the last time you let your emotions get involved?"

I pushed my chair back, jaw clenched. ,,The woman I met," I ground out, ,,is not Haruka."

Silence.

Then I turned on my heel and stormed out.

My mother called after me. I didn't stop. I yanked open the front door, rage simmering just beneath the surface. My fists curled, itching to punch the villa's cold concrete walls.

But I didn't.

Instead, I pulled out my phone and opened Instagram.

There was only one person I wanted to talk to right now.

And I didn't care what anyone else thought about it.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶

to be continued...