"You think I've got no options? I can tutor, I can do translation work… Three million yen—it's just a matter of time!"
"I can earn it on my own!"
Her words fired out like bullets, chest heaving with every breath.
If she really believed that, she wouldn't be shouting so loud. Seiji Fujiwara felt no stir of sympathy. If anything, he almost laughed.
Loud voices always come from shaky confidence.
He waited patiently for Utaha to burn through her emotions before speaking, slow and deliberate.
"Utaha-chan, your rent's due this month, isn't it?"
His voice wasn't raised, just a calm statement. Yet it clamped around her throat like an invisible hand.
"Fifty thousand yen isn't much, but… do you even have it?"
The fire she had just been spitting sputtered, half-extinguished in an instant.
"I…" Panic flickered in her eyes, but pride and stubbornness forced her to look away. "That has nothing to do with you."
"Ms. Sato is kind. I'll ask her. I'm sure she'll give me a few extra days."
"Is that so?" Seiji's tone carried a shade of amusement.
He took a single step forward.
The tiny movement shrank the distance between them. Pressure rolled off him, forcing Utaha to instinctively shrink back.
"Rent can wait. But your mother's surgery—can that wait too?"
Boom.
The words hit like a hammer, crushing her chest.
Her mother's pale face on the hospital bed…
The doctor's solemn, pitying expression…
That slip of paper stamped with Second Surgery Required and Please pay within three days…
One image after another flashed through her mind, shredding the fragile wall she'd built around herself.
"I…"
Her posture collapsed, all defiance draining out of her like air from a punctured balloon.
Against her mother's life, her pride was worthless.
Her voice shook, barely a whisper. "The hospital… they said they could go ahead with the operation, and I… I could pay later…"
Her words trailed off. Even she didn't believe them. Hospitals weren't charities. They'd never allow debt.
Seiji's smile deepened as he watched her faltering eyes.
The timing was perfect.
"So, Utaha-chan," he said smoothly, his tone unhurried, "where exactly do you plan to earn enough to cover the surgery afterward?"
"You do realize the hospital costs won't stop there. Surgery fees, yes—but then you've got the aftercare. The nurses. The ward. Cleaning, food… oh, and your own living expenses."
"Where's all that going to come from?"
That was the final straw.
Her face drained of color, leaving her ghost-pale.
"I…"
Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her throat felt stuffed with cotton.
For a moment, time froze.
Only the relentless sound of rain against the window filled the silence.
Then—
"Fujiwara-kun? Kasumigaoka-san?"
Ms. Sato's voice drifted up from the stairwell, breaking the suffocating stillness.
"I thought I heard raised voices from downstairs. Is everything alright?"
The building manager, alarmed by the noise, had come to check.
"You're neighbors—you should get along, you know."
At the sound, Utaha flinched like a startled rabbit. She tried to slam the door shut, to hide her tear-stained face.
But Seiji was faster.
His foot blocked the door, holding it open. He turned toward the stairwell, his expression flipping instantly into one of harmless warmth.
"No worries, Ms. Sato, I'm so sorry. We were just discussing school choices. Kasumigaoka-san got a little worked up, that's all. I hope we didn't disturb you."
His voice was polite, flawless.
Utaha couldn't close the door, and she couldn't let the manager see her like this. Forced into a corner, she scraped together a shaky smile. "Y-yes… it's fine. We're fine. Thank you for checking."
"…Is that so?" Ms. Sato stepped up the last stair, suspicion clear in her eyes.
Her gaze flicked between Utaha's swollen eyes and pale cheeks, then to Seiji's calm demeanor.
It looked nothing like a conversation about school.
But since both insisted nothing was wrong, she couldn't press further.
"Well then. That's good. Young people—try to talk things out without raising your voices."
She gave a small smile, nodded, and turned back downstairs, though the doubt still lingered in her expression.
Silence fell once more.
But that brief interruption had drained the last spark of resistance from Utaha.
Seiji withdrew his foot and let his eyes linger on her face—pale, tear-stained, yet still breathtakingly beautiful.
"So, Utaha-chan," he said softly, "what's your answer?"
His gaze wandered shamelessly, tracing the curve of her face, sliding down to her figure. He looked at her like she was already his Collectible.
All the while, he grinned. "My offer hasn't changed. Five hundred thousand yen a month. I'll cover you for half a year. There's no time limit."
"If you agree, I can give you the money right now."
His stare made Utaha's skin crawl. Goosebumps prickled her arms.
She felt like a lamb, stripped bare, cornered by a wolf.
Disgusting.
Repulsive.
Infuriating.
But…
"I… I need to think about it…" she whispered, teeth clenched.
"Think?" Seiji's lips curled in mocking amusement.
He pulled out a document and held it out. A lease contract.
A luxury apartment in the heart of Minato Ward.
"Monthly rent… 480,000 yen."
He tapped the figure. "Money's not something I need to worry about, Utaha-chan. But you… don't have that luxury."
"Time won't wait."
"I move out tomorrow."
Crash.
The words thundered through her mind. Her pupils shrank in shock.
The lease contract. Moving out tomorrow.
That meant…
Her last foothold, gone.
Tears slipped silently down her face, cutting twin paths over her cheeks.
The final struggle inside her broke apart completely.
"…I'll go with you."
Her head bowed low, voice barely audible, each word drenched in humiliation and sorrow.