Chapter Text
"Rejected. You may leave," the Editor-in-Chief said, refusing the manuscript for the third time in a row.
He glanced at the clock. It was already past ten in the evening.
"And go home. It's getting late."
Eijun was reaching her limit.
Hours of revisions had left her exhausted, frustrated, and thoroughly disheartened. How many times had she walked into this clean, meticulously organized office tonight? She had lost count.
"Sir, forgive my impoliteness, but I don't understand what's wrong with my manuscript. Could you please tell me?" she asked. "I still have time to revise the paper, and the plot."
She forced a polite smile onto her face.
There had to be something wrong with her writing, and she wouldn't hesitate to start over if that was what it took to earn his approval. She refused to go home knowing her work still had flaws. She was far too proud, and far too much of a perfectionist, to allow that.
Diligence, accuracy, and proper grammar had always been her strengths. Yet no matter how many times she reread her manuscript, she couldn't figure out what was wrong with the plot. The mystery gnawed at her, wearing down both her body and mind.
She had revised the storyline countless times, making sure the excitement, suspense, and intrigue remained intact. She had considered the readers' perspective at every turn. She had poured her heart into every word she wrote.
Being a writer was hard.
Still, she worked harder than most.
At least, that's what her co-workers always said.
And she had a dream.
One day, she wanted to become an Editor-in-Chief herself and support her family.
Chris Takigawa watched her with an amused smile at her whole ordeal.
As the current Editor-in-Chief, he knew Eijun Sawamura better than most. She wore her heart on her sleeve, never hiding her emotions no matter how hard she tried.
Truthfully, he believed she had the potential to surpass him someday.
But something was missing.
There was a gap in her abilities that no amount of technical skill could fill.
Whatever it took, he intended to make her discover it herself. If that meant frustrating her, challenging her, or occasionally tormenting the poor girl, then so be it.
Not that he was a sadist.
At least, that's what he told himself.
In reality, he cared about her a great deal, almost like a younger sister.
Thankfully, no one knew that except him.
"No," Chris said. "I want you to figure it out on your own. I hold your skills in high regard, Sawamura-san, but there's a void within you that needs to be filled. I hope you'll find it yourself."
"But, Chris,"
"Position, Sawamura-san. We're still at work."
"I mean... Sir."
Eijun rubbed her temple.
"I don't understand. What you're saying sounds simple enough, but somehow it feels completely foreign to me."
His words always did that.
She understood the literal meaning. She even understood the figurative meaning. But whenever those words came out of the Editor-in-Chief's mouth, they seemed to carry an entirely different message.
"As I said, find it yourself. I can't give you any more than that."
Chris paused before adding,
"Though, I can give you a clue. Just one word."
The exhaustion weighing on Eijun vanished instantly.
Her eyes lit up.
"Please," she said, leaning forward. "For the love of baseball, tell me."
A small smile tugged at Chris's lips.
A hard worker and a perfectionist and also, a purist at heart.
He liked that.
Eijun scoffed, thoroughly unladylike.
She had been expecting a clear and definite answer, yet Chris had given her another vague response. Honestly, Chris Takigawa loved tormenting people. He would use every possible method to push those working under him toward improvement.
A sadistic person.
Tightening the seatbelt across her waist, she told the taxi driver to go faster.
The driver immediately declined.
Unfortunately for him, Eijun was stubborn, and after several attempts to persuade him, he reluctantly increased his speed.
Eijun rolled down the window and let the cool night breeze brush against her face. Fortunately, the roads were nearly empty at this hour, leaving little risk of colliding with another vehicle.
The night had grown late, and it wasn't as though anyone was waiting for her at her lonely apartment.
She was already an independent adult who had left home to pursue a broader horizon. After graduating from college and somehow surviving the endless demands of university life, she considered her move to the city an achievement worth being proud of.
Pulling her head back inside the taxi, she found herself reminiscing about her high school days at Seidou.
Back then, she was always buried in a thick notebook, scribbling down every idea that crossed her mind before it could disappear. The Newspaper Club had accepted her application and assigned her to write stories for the entertainment section. She also served as one of the school's sports writers.
In truth, Seidou High School was renowned for producing talented baseball players who dreamed of pursuing professional careers.
Eijun, however, had never been interested in playing the sport herself.
She simply loved watching it.
To call her a fan would have been an understatement. Whenever Seidou advanced through a tournament, she bought tickets whenever she could and cheered from the stands. She found baseball thrilling, exciting, and nerve-wracking all at once, which only made her love it even more.
"Ma'am? We're here."
"Oh!"
Eijun blinked and immediately snapped out of her thoughts.
"Sorry. I spaced out."
She reached for her wallet and paid the fare. Feeling guilty for her earlier request, she told the driver to keep the change.
The driver accepted it with a grateful smile.
Stepping out of the taxi, she offered him a tired smile of her own.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said before driving away.
Left alone in front of her apartment building, Eijun let out a long sigh.
Her body felt heavy with exhaustion as she made her way toward the entrance. At that moment, she wished she could simply teleport straight to her bed and avoid the effort altogether, but unfortunately, that was nothing more than wishful thinking.
Upon reaching her door, Eijun suddenly felt the urge to announce her arrival to the empty apartment.
It had been years since she had done something like that.
The last time was on her final night living under the same roof as her parents. She could still remember her mother laughing from the kitchen, her father telling her to keep her voice down, and the familiar warmth that filled the house. The next morning, she had left to begin her journey into adulthood.
The memory stirred a wave of nostalgia within her.
Her hand rested on the doorknob as she stared at the door in silence.
Besides, who cared?
It wasn't as if anyone would think she was crazy for shouting into an empty apartment. She lived alone, had never had a boyfriend, and was still proudly NBSB.
There were certainly no ghosts waiting inside.
Eijun immediately facepalmed.
She was seriously trying to justify herself to no one.
Somehow, that made her feel even more ridiculous.
She was getting stupid.
"Eijun-san, good evening."
"Holy fuck!"
Eijun nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun around and clutched her chest, only to find a pink-haired young man standing behind her.
"My lifespan just shortened by a few years, Haruichi-kun!" she exclaimed. "Please don't scare me like that again, and try approaching me normally next time. You were practically walking like a ghost!"
Haruichi blinked before offering her an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, Eijun-san. I didn't mean to. You were standing here fidgeting for a while, so I got curious."
His gaze shifted toward the doorknob.
"Did you forget your keys? I can open it for you, if you'd like."
Eijun immediately shook her head.
Guilt crept into her chest. Her neighbor of three years had only been trying to help, and she had nearly screamed at him.
"Ahaha, sorry for that outburst."
She scratched the back of her head sheepishly.
"There's actually no problem. I was just thinking that once I open this door, the only thing waiting for me on the other side is silence."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
As soon as she said them, her expression fell.
It wasn't exactly the explanation she had intended to give, but it was the truth.
Living alone wasn't anything new. For years, she had returned to the same apartment, unlocked the same door, and stepped into the same quiet space. The furniture remained where she had left it. The books stayed neatly arranged on the shelves. Nothing changed.
No matter how exhausting her day had been, no one greeted her when she came home.
Tonight felt worse than usual.
Perhaps it was because Chris had rejected her manuscript again. Perhaps it was because she had spent the entire evening doubting herself. Or perhaps she was simply tired after another long day.
Whatever the reason, she suddenly found herself missing the little things she had once taken for granted.
A simple "Welcome home."
A voice asking whether she had eaten dinner.
Someone to complain to after a terrible day at work.
Things she rarely thought about had somehow become the very things she wanted most.
No one asked how work went.
No one complained about dinner being late.
No one was there.
The realization still stung more than she liked to admit.
For a moment, silence settled between them.
Haruichi seemed to understand immediately. Perhaps it was because he had experienced something similar himself.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
They stood in the apartment hallway beneath the dim lights, surrounded by closed doors and quiet walls. It was a familiar sight for countless adults returning home after work, yet somehow the silence felt heavier tonight.
Maybe loneliness was simply easier to notice when someone else happened to be standing beside you.
Then he gently patted her shoulder.
He wasn't particularly good at comforting people, but he tried anyway.
"Eijun-san, I understand that feeling," he said softly. "I've experienced the same thing myself. But we're adults now, and this is part of the life we've chosen. Our families supported us for years, and now it's our turn to support them. We just have to endure the silence a little longer."
Eijun lowered her gaze before nodding.
He had a point.
It wasn't as though she regretted moving out. She had chosen this path herself. Still, understanding something and feeling it were two completely different things.
After offering her one last reassuring smile, Haruichi excused himself and returned to his own apartment.
Watching him leave, Eijun felt both embarrassed and relieved.
Embarrassed because he had caught her standing outside her door like someone who had lost her keys, even though they had been in her pocket the entire time.
Relieved because somehow, Haruichi's calm and gentle words had eased the heaviness in her chest.
The two of them had become close over the years. As neighbors and friends, Haruichi was one of the few people with whom she could freely act childish without feeling judged.
Finally, Eijun unlocked the door and stepped inside.
She removed her shoes and neatly placed them on the rack before closing the door behind her.
The familiar silence immediately greeted her.
For a brief moment, she stood there and listened.
Nothing.
Not a single sound.
The idea she had before Haruichi interrupted her still hadn't disappeared.
And honestly, she was going to do it.
Even if it made her look like an idiot.
Taking a deep breath, she marched toward the small living area and shouted at the top of her lungs.
"I'm home!"
"Welcome home, hun! I brought a lot of mochi."
"Thank you, hunny."
Eijun froze.
The smile on her face disappeared as she stood rooted to the spot. For a moment, she wondered if exhaustion had finally gotten to her. After all, people didn't normally return home to hear a stranger answer tgem.
Did someone just respond?
The apartment was dark, illuminated only by the television casting a faint glow across the living room. Shadows stretched across the walls and furniture, making the unfamiliar scene feel even more unsettling.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Someone was inside her apartment.
Years of mystery novels and crime dramas immediately flashed through her mind. Every trace of exhaustion vanished in an instant as adrenaline took over.
Eijun rushed toward the source of the voice, grabbing a nearby mop along the way. Upon reaching the living room, she planted her feet firmly on the ground and pointed the handle straight at the intruder's face.
She was a strong, independent woman who had been living on her own for years. She wasn't a damsel in distress, nor was she the type to stand around waiting for someone else to solve her problems.
The man lounging comfortably on her couch jolted in surprise and immediately raised both hands in surrender as he stood.
"Whoa, feisty girl. Calm down," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Who the fuck are you?" Eijun demanded.
Her grip tightened around the mop.
The stranger wore glasses and appeared completely unfazed by the fact that she was threatening him with a household cleaning tool. If anything, he looked amused.
That alone made her trust him even less.
The man swallowed the bite of food he had been chewing and flashed her a cheeky smile.
Unfortunately, Eijun couldn't get a proper look at his face. The room was too dark, and after years of staring at computer screens while typing thousands of words, her eyesight occasionally became blurry whenever she was overly tired.
Still, she wasn't worried.
Even if he escaped, she could provide a detailed description to the police and personally chase him to the ends of the earth.
"Your future husband," the man replied casually. "Or so your parents said."
Eijun stared at him for several seconds, wondering if she had somehow misheard what had just come out of his mouth. She blinked once, then twice, but the man continued looking at her as though declaring himself her future husband was a perfectly normal thing to do.
That was definitely not the answer she had been expecting.
Without hesitation, she shoved the mop back toward his face.
"If you're lying to me, I'll shove this mop down your throat as dessert."
The man visibly shuddered.
"Must I repeat myself?" he complained. "Seriously, just saying it gives me chills. Don't torture me, wifey."
His head leaned backward several centimeters in an attempt to avoid the threatening mop.
Eijun seriously began questioning the man's mental state. She couldn't decide whether he was a pervert, a masochist, or simply insane, but none of the possibilities made her feel any better about the situation.
How was he still joking around when she clearly held the advantage here? She could call the police right now and report him for trespassing.
Yet despite that, an odd sense of confidence lingered around him. It was as though he wasn't worried about the situation at all.
That only made her more cautious.
"I don't have time for jokes," she said coldly. "State your name and your purpose. I'm dead serious."
"Okay, okay. Geez..."
The man sighed dramatically.
Then, without warning, his expression turned serious.
"I'm a serial killer."
Eijun's eyes widened.
For one horrifying second, she actually believed him.
Then the idiot burst out laughing.
The sound echoed throughout the room.
Eijun's eyebrow twitched.
Out of pure irritation, she thrust the mop forward. The handle stopped mere centimeters from his throat.
His laughter vanished almost immediately. Judging by the way his eyes shifted toward the mop hovering near his throat, he had finally realized she wasn't in the mood for his nonsense.
The man glanced down at the mop and sighed.
Being murdered by a cleaning tool was not the glorious end he had imagined for himself.
"Geez," he muttered. "My name is Miyuki Kazuya. My purpose is to get to know you and form some sort of..."
He paused.
His sharp eyes met hers.
"...personal relationship."
Eijun remained silent.
The name sounded oddly familiar, as though she had heard it somewhere before. A memory lingered at the edge of her mind, but she couldn't quite grasp it.
Before she could think further, Kazuya slowly raised both hands again.
"You can call your parents while keeping that mop pointed at my face," he offered. "I swear I won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable."
Seeing that she remained unconvinced, he quickly added, "I swear. No more jokes."
Eijun narrowed her eyes.
After studying him for several long seconds, she cautiously pulled out her phone with her free hand.
Without lowering the mop, she called her mother.
The phone rang twice before being answered.
"Ei-chan!" her mother chirped cheerfully. "Long time no talk! Got a problem? You almost never call first. This is shocking."
Eijun immediately closed her eyes.
The cheerful tone in her mother's voice was all the confirmation she needed. Much to her disappointment, the idiot sitting on her couch had apparently been telling the truth.
"Mom," she said flatly, "please get straight to the point. You know something, don't you?"
"Oh! So he's already there!"
Eijun pinched the bridge of her nose as the beginnings of a headache settled behind her eyes.
"Mom—"
"Say hello to him for me! Have a lovely time together. Bye!"
"Mom, wait—!"
The line went dead.
Eijun stared at her phone in disbelief before immediately calling back.
No answer.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
By the third attempt, her mother had apparently turned off her phone entirely.
Slowly, Eijun lowered the mop before letting it fall onto the floor with a loud clatter. Her shoulders slumped as she stared blankly at the disconnected call on her phone. She already knew her mother well enough to understand what had just happened. The woman had deliberately abandoned her to deal with this situation alone and was probably laughing somewhere on the other side of the city. No matter how many times she called back, she doubted her mother would answer.
With a sigh, Eijun rubbed her forehead and glanced toward the stranger occupying her couch. No, not a stranger anymore. Apparently, he was Miyuki Kazuya, a man her parents knew well enough to leave unsupervised inside her apartment. The thought alone was absurd.
Questions immediately flooded her mind. How had he gotten inside? Why had her parents arranged this without telling her? More importantly, why was he sitting in her living room eating mochi as though he owned the place?
The exhaustion from work, Chris's cryptic advice, and the emotional conversation with Haruichi suddenly came crashing back all at once. What she had wanted was a quiet evening to clear her head and perhaps figure out the flaw in her manuscript. Instead, she had come home to discover an
unknown man claiming to be her future husband while her mother enthusiastically supported the idea.
Eijun took another long breath and slowly released it.
Something told her this night was only going to get worse.
"So?" Kazuya asked, looking at her with a smug expression that made Eijun want to hit him with the mop again.
Eijun resisted the urge and instead took a deep breath. After everything that had happened, she couldn't deny the truth any longer.
"Fine," she muttered. "I believe you."
"And?"
The single word immediately irritated her.
Her eyebrow twitched as she stared at him. Clearly, the man wasn't going to let the matter go so easily.
Eijun gritted her teeth.
"I'm sorry."
The smug grin that appeared on his face was unbearable.
"Good," he said. "Now let's turn on the lights, shall we? I switched them off to save electricity. A considerate future partner, am I not?"
Without waiting for her response, Miyuki casually sat back down on the couch as though he belonged there.
"Right."
The reply came out flat and devoid of emotion.
At this point, Eijun simply didn't have the energy to argue. The idea of demanding that he leave her apartment sounded exhausting. Her entire body felt heavy from the events of the day, and all she wanted was a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
Still, she couldn't deny the relief slowly settling in her chest.
Earlier, she had genuinely believed a criminal had broken into her home. Compared to that possibility, discovering that the intruder was someone her parents apparently knew felt considerably less terrifying.
Unfortunately, it introduced a completely different problem which is an arranged marriage.
Seriously?
The phrase sounded like something lifted from a historical drama or one of those romance novels she occasionally edited at work. Who in their right mind still arranged marriages in modern society?
Apparently her parents.
Then again, her family had never exactly been normal.
Growing up with the Sawamuras meant expecting the unexpected. Her parents possessed a unique talent for creating chaos out of perfectly ordinary situations, often dragging her along for the ride.
Compared to some of the stunts they had pulled in the past, this wasn't even the most unbelievable thing they had done.
Well, maybe it was close.
A memory immediately surfaced.
Several years ago, her parents had somehow convinced her to take a part-time job in Nagano cleaning a hostess bar. They had enthusiastically informed her that the salary was excellent, which had been enough to capture the attention of a younger Eijun.
At the time, she needed money for books, notebooks, and various writing materials. The promise of a generous paycheck had sounded wonderful.
The reality had been far less wonderful.
Thinking about the experience still made her shudder.
As she reached the light switch and flipped it on, the memory faded away.
Bright light flooded the apartment.
"Are you cold?" Kazuya asked. "I could make you a glass of milk."
Eijun slowly turned around.
Now that the lights were on, she could finally see him clearly.
Truthfully, she hadn't expected much. During the brief period she had spent imagining the mysterious intruder, she had pictured someone completely ordinary. Maybe a nerdy-looking man with thick glasses, braces, and a forgettable face.
It wasn't fair to judge people based on appearances.
At the moment, however, she didn't particularly care.
"Ye—"
The rest of the sentence died in her throat.
Kazuya sat comfortably on her couch, completely unaware of the crisis unfolding inside her head. Under the apartment's bright lights, there was no room for doubt anymore.
The man in front of her was unmistakably Miyuki Kazuya, the professional baseball player whose face regularly appeared on television, magazines, sports articles, and advertisements across the country.
There was a celebrity sitting in her living room.
Not a look-alike.
Not somebody who merely resembled him.
An actual celebrity.
The realization struck her with enough force that her mind briefly stopped functioning.
"Liking the view?" he asked with a smirk. "I knew I could be pretty handsome."
Normally, Eijun would have fired back with a sarcastic comment.
Instead, she remained frozen where she stood.
Her thoughts immediately replayed every interaction they had shared since she arrived home. She had threatened him with a mop, called him a thief, cursed at him repeatedly, and very nearly shoved a dirty cleaning tool down the throat of one of Japan's most recognizable baseball players. The embarrassment hit her all at once, making her wish the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
"I'm dreaming, right?" she asked weakly.
"Sadly, no."
"Punch me."
"You may be a little boyish and energetic, but I don't make a habit of hitting women."
Eijun immediately looked away. It wasn't because she was shy, nor was it because she suddenly found him attractive. The real problem was that making eye contact with him meant acknowledging everything she had done during the past thirty minutes, and she simply wasn't emotionally prepared for that level of humiliation.
"Miyuki-san?"
"Just call me Kazuya."
Eijun nodded absentmindedly.
"Kazuya-san," she corrected herself. "I think I'm about to faint."
One of his eyebrows rose.
"I'm serious. Between work, stress, and the fact that my future husband apparently plays professional baseball, I think my body has officially decided it's had enough. Also, I have anemia."
For a moment, Kazuya looked genuinely uncertain whether she was joking.
Unfortunately for him, she wasn't.
The exhaustion she had been suppressing all evening finally caught up with her. The rejected manuscript, Chris's cryptic advice, the loneliness she had felt earlier, Haruichi's encouragement, and now this absurd arranged-marriage situation all came crashing together at once.
Earlier, her body had been trembling because she thought an intruder had broken into her apartment.
Now it was trembling because reality had somehow become even stranger than her imagination.
A strange thought crossed her mind.
Maybe she should thank her parents.
The answer came immediately.
Absolutely not.
Her vision darkened around the edges, and the room began to tilt. The last thing she saw was Kazuya rising from the couch as realization dawned on his face. Unfortunately, by then it was already too late.
Her knees gave out beneath her, and before she could react, the floor rushed toward her.
A split second later, her body hit the ground with a dull thud.
Silence settled over the apartment.
Kazuya stood there for several moments, staring at the unconscious woman sprawled across the floor. He glanced at the spot where she had been standing, then at the ceiling above him, as though hoping someone would explain what had just happened.
Nothing.
With a long sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at Eijun once more.
For someone he had only met tonight, she certainly had a remarkable talent for turning an ordinary evening
into complete chaos. Somehow, he had the feeling this was only the beginning.