"If your evening classes end too late, give a call. I'll co and pick you up,"
Kyousuke said gently, reaching out to brush aside Shouko's bangs.
Whether he was trying to fix them or make them even ssier was anyone's guess.
"Mhm~ I know, I know~" Shouko nodded softly, then took a small step back.
"See you tonight, Kyousuke-kun."
"Yeah. See you tonight." Kyousuke said no more.
They were standing by the temporary parking area near the subway station—lingering too long and the traffic patrol would show up soon.
He gave her one last wave as he watched the uniford Shouko walk away, her small steps carrying her toward the station entrance.
Once she disappeared into the crowd, Kyousuke slid back into the car.
The driver, Hirata, didn't bother asking for the next destination.
The boss had already given instructions beforehand.
Ochanomizu Won's University.
Dropping off one high school girl at the station, and now off to pick up another college girl.
His boss was just... unbelievable.
And not because Kyousuke could juggle so many won—plenty of guys would get their heads cracked for even trying such a thing, especially with the Violent Angel gang they used to be part of.
But Kyousuke wasn't like that.
First off, nobody could lay a hand on him.
Even more than that—if anyone even thought about "teaching him a lesson," they'd have to face the wrath of the very girls who were head over heels for him.
And what a lineup they were.
The Spencer family from Britain—practically royalty and full of diplomats.
The Kasumigaoka family—owners of Saitama's second-largest furniture chain.
The Miyamizu family—whose daughter was now the rising star and division chief of Tokyo's Special Disaster Unit.
And rumor had it, according to Goro and the others, that the prestigious Yukinoshita political family had recently been added to the list.
Seriously…
For most n, landing even one of these girls would be like winning the romance lottery.
But Kyousuke? He was gracefully dancing between them all like it was nothing.
Honestly, as much as Hirata admired his boss, he couldn't help but feel a little worried.
What if one day... all those girls' parents showed up at the dorm at the sa ti?
What the hell would the boss do then?
"Hirata. What the hell are you thinking about? Focus when you're driving! I want your attention at one hundred and twenty percent!"
Kyousuke's voice snapped him back to reality, catching Hirata's uneasy expression in the rearview mirror.
He wasn't joking.
Roads were pri spots for random isekai truck accidents—Kyousuke didn't want his only superpower to be "having a careless subordinate who caused a traffic incident."
"Y-Yes, sir! I'm terribly sorry! Full focus, right away!"
Hirata shouted back at full volu, his voice echoing so hard in the car that his own ears rang.
He peeked in the mirror and saw that the boss's expression hadn't changed in the slightest.
As expected of the boss! Hirata felt fired up again.
Damn, no wonder TV dramas made all those gang bosses go deaf by age thirty.
It's not for dramatic effect—it's because their underlings shouted like this every damn day.
If they didn't yell, the old bosses with decades of this nonsense in their ears wouldn't be able to hear a thing.
Kyousuke sighed inwardly.
He'd built up a serious immunity to the energetic antics of his subordinates.
He could handle their random shouts with a poker face now—no flinching, no side glances.
The reason he'd decided to drive here to pick up Mitsuha instead of riding his bike from ho was simple—Yotsuba was coming over to the house today too.
As for why Mitsuha never ca by herself?
Well... that was sothing both of them silently understood.
She'd refused to move into the dorm, after all.
Ever since that first ti—when she was still regaining her mories and had arrived thanks to Yamamura-sensei—every other visit to the dorm had been because Kyousuke personally went to pick her up.
It was a small thing, but Kyousuke had read the aning behind it loud and clear.
And because of that, their relationship had quietly taken another firm step forward.
A huge step, actually.
If he could just settle things with the other girls, the perfect ending was within reach.
"Boss, the road ahead's blocked."
Hirata's voice broke Kyousuke's thoughts.
Looking up, Kyousuke saw it wasn't a traffic jam—just the usual after-school chaos around the university area, where more than a dozen schools let out at the sa ti.
The street was closed off to keep things orderly.
"Find a nearby spot to wait. I'll call you when I'm done and tell you where to pick up."
Kyousuke glanced at the stream of cars behind them, opened the door, and stepped out, his polished leather shoes gleaming in the light.
"Yes, sir! Got it!" Hirata shouted.
Good thing the road was blocked—if Hirata had pulled up right in front of Yotsuba's school, rumors about her having a gangster brother-in-law would've spread like wildfire by next week.
Kyousuke straightened his suit jacket as he stepped onto the sidewalk.
Glancing down at his sharp outfit, he felt the appreciative stares from the passing housewives.
Smart choice not to change out of the suit, he thought, grinning inwardly.
Just as that thought crossed his mind—
'Thump!'
A soft body suddenly collided with him from behind.
"Ahh~~"
A girlish, honey-sweet moan reached his ears, the kind that could make a man's spine lt.
No good.
Not even close to Haruno or Yukari levels.
At least three ranks below.
Like comparing diamonds to scrap iron.
Kyousuke sighed ntally as he turned around.
There sat a young woman in a tight black skirt, rubbing her butt while pouting.
"You okay? Can you stand on your own?"
He didn't offer a hand.
This scread "setup" to him.
As a handso man out in public, one could never be too careful.
From her youthful face and dangerously curvy figure, he guessed she was here to pick up a child from the kindergarten attached to Ochanomizu University—the oldest and most beloved in Tokyo.
And won out at this hour... well, let's just say this ti slot was famous for certain "extracurricular activities."
Besides, he was about to et Mitsuha.
Carrying the scent of another woman, even by accident, was a huge no-no.
Not to ntion... this woman wasn't nearly worth the risk.
The woman—Satake Miyu—blinked in disbelief, then glanced down at herself: her pushed-up chest, slim waist (thanks to shapewear and so serious breath-holding), and perfectly round thighs peeking from under her slightly lifted skirt.
Seriously? A guy this hot could resist helping a beauty like her?
"Miss, are you alright? Need a hand?"
A balding man in a gray, baggy suit hurried over, bowing like a servant.
"Thank you, but no need," Miyu quickly waved him off.
Baldy could save his kindness for his wife—any man free at this hour was probably unemployed.
Seeing there was no trouble, Kyousuke smiled and turned away.
"Um... are you here to pick up a child too?" Miyu called out, refusing to give up.
Pick up a child?
The unexpected question actually made Kyousuke pause.
He mulled the words over for a mont... then gave a small nod.
"Yes, that's right."
"What a coincidence! Sa here. My son, Junya, is in the middle class at the kindergarten. Today is his soccer club day, so I ca to pick him up after practice."
"I'm here to pick up my little sister. We're having a family dinner today."
Kyousuke pretended not to understand the unspoken suggestion—sothing along the lines of "Since you've got nothing to do after dropping off your kid, how about a coffee together?"
"Your sister?" Satake Miyu asked curiously.
"Yeah, my wife's little sister. She's in middle school."
The fact that this handso young man already had a wife didn't surprise Satake Miyu at all.
Honestly, it would've been far stranger if he didn't.
A single guy wouldn't normally wear such a perfectly pressed suit without a woman's touch behind it.
"Oh? Then why didn't your wife co pick her up herself?" she asked sweetly.
"She's here, too."
As Kyousuke said this, he casually waved toward Miyamizu Mitsuha, who stood by the flowerbed ahead.
Following his gaze, Satake Miyu turned to look.
Long, lustrous black hair flowed over her shoulders, with an elegant braid tucked behind one ear to keep stray strands from blowing into her face.
She wore a beige long-sleeved top and a soft pink gypsy-style maxi skirt, paired with simple black flats.
Her outfit was nothing special, typical of a full-ti housewife.
Miyu was confident she could write for a fashion magazine if she wanted.
But what caught her attention most was the woman's face—a youthful, natural beauty no amount of makeup or skincare could replicate.
And the mont that beauty turned toward the handso man and smiled so radiantly, Miyu couldn't help but wonder:
Was I ever that pretty in high school?
Probably not.
But then again, she was living her own happy life now—with a husband and a child.
"You and your wife both look so young," she said with a polite smile, nodding to both the handso man and the beautiful woman before walking on toward the kindergarten gates, which were still a little farther ahead.
But sothing else bothered her—the gruff-looking old man standing not far behind the wife, glaring sharply at everything around him.
"Your wife?" Mitsuha whispered to Kyousuke, frowning slightly in confusion.
"Yeah. I told her I was here to pick up my wife's little sister," Kyousuke replied with a grin.
"Hey, punk! What kind of nonsense are you spouting? That's not the sort of joke you can just throw around!"
The gruff old man—Miyamizu Toshiki—stepped forward, putting himself protectively between his daughter and Kyousuke.
"Good afternoon, Miyamizu-san. You're looking more energetic than ever," Kyousuke greeted him smoothly, unfazed by being called "punk" or "brat."
After all, he'd gotten used to this kind of talk back in Itomori.
If he let sothing this small get to him, how could he possibly survive asking for Mitsuha's hand in marriage soday?
Would he have to bring a sword to her father's house just to prove himself? Ridiculous.
Yes, Kyousuke realized now—he'd made a mistake.
He'd been so focused on preparing Mitsuha ntally, he'd forgotten the bigger problem: Miyamizu Toshiki.
Of course, Kyousuke wasn't just flattering him to ease the tension.
Compared to their Itomori days, Toshiki seed younger, livelier.
His once-graying hair was darker now—either dyed or a sign that his peaceful family life and successful career had turned back the clock a little.
Back in Itomori, it wasn't just Mitsuha who lived on edge.
Toshiki, a strict father who'd once cut ties with family, clashed with his ntor, and left his fiancée to find happiness in the countryside—it all reeked of a desperate, dying man's final gamble.
No way could soone like that be a boring, stiff old man at heart.
He was a romantic—too deeply tied to his own self-made ropes to break free.
Maybe, Kyousuke thought, it was for the best that Itomori had been destroyed.
"See? I told you, Yotsuba told you too, but you still won't admit it! You're just embarrassed!" Mitsuha teased excitedly, swinging her handbag like a high school girl.
"Ahem. Mitsuha," her father coughed gruffly.
"Oh, co on. I told you back in Nara to dye your hair. You're not old, you're just middle-aged—why make yourself look so ancient?"
Mitsuha no longer flinched at her father's voice like she used to in Itomori.
Now she could joke and act like a real daughter again.
Toshiki gave his daughter a helpless look.
What a missed chance.
He'd wanted to corner Kyousuke, ask the boy straight out about his intentions toward his daughter.
He didn't intend to follow the plans of the Miyamizu or Gouko families and force a son-in-law on Mitsuha.
But even if this was proper dating, the boy should at least co to the house, greet him, offer tea like a man.
"Alright, Kyousuke's here. Dad, you can go ho now," Mitsuha sighed, nudging her father's arm.
Even kindergarten kids didn't need their parents to pick them up anymore, but the mont Toshiki heard that Yotsuba was going to Kyousuke's house, he'd insisted on coming all the way to the gate to "supervise."
"Go ho? And let you all squeeze onto the train? Or cram three people onto that brat motorbike? Like hell I'd allow that! That's illegal—and I won't have it!"
Miyamizu Toshiki let out an exasperated sigh.
He still vividly rembered the glimpse of that taillight from the last ti.
"Huh? Wait, Dad... you actually planned to drive us from the start?" Mitsuha looked at her father in surprise.
She thought he'd just co to give Hojou a hard ti as usual.
"Of course not! But since it's on the way, I don't mind giving you a lift!"
Toshiki shook his head firmly, wearing a face that clearly said, "Listen to the nonsense coming out of your mouth."
Clad in a silver-gray suit, with a sharp, square-jawed face that scread "executive," Miyamizu Toshiki still carried the commanding air of a man who'd spent years in leadership positions.
Unless he was dealing with his daughter or this Hojou Kyousuke kid, that is.
Like now—standing at the school gate without a single security guard daring to question him.
"You don't have to worry, Miyamizu-san," Kyousuke said smoothly. "I didn't ride my motorcycle today—I ca by car."
Dressed in an equally sharp suit, Kyousuke stood tall before his future father-in-law without the slightest hint of intimidation.
It was like watching two dashing n from different generations face off.
"Unlicensed driving?" Toshiki shot him a side glance, unimpressed.
"Of course not. I'd never break traffic laws or allow anything unsafe to happen. I brought a driver today," Kyousuke replied with a calm smile.
"A driver?" Toshiki frowned slightly.
With Kyousuke's inco, having a private chauffeur wasn't unthinkable—but for a high school student, it still felt ridiculously excessive.
"Dad, did you forget? Hojou's already the president of an animation company. The driver's probably from his office," Mitsuha explained.
"Using a company car for personal errands, huh?" Trust Toshiki to find sothing to nitpick no matter what.
"..." x2
Both Kyousuke and Mitsuha fell silent, giving him the exact sa exasperated look.
What's next, Dad? You gonna call the hotline on the car door and report him?
Even if Kyousuke's company were a fully incorporated business—heck, even if it were a governnt vehicle—it would be easy to brush off any accusations with a casual "I'm out handling business."
Press the matter any further, and the one doing the asking might be accused of hindering important work.
"Ahem... are you absolutely sure you don't need to drive you after all?"
Toshiki tried one last ti, unwilling to give up.
If he personally drove them, there was no way Hojou could refuse to invite him inside for tea.
And once inside, it wouldn't matter if he said nothing, simply sipping tea with a blank expression—the intended pressure would land perfectly.
"Co on, Dad, just head ho already," Mitsuha said with an exhausted sigh. "I left your breakfast leftovers in the microwave—just heat them up a little, and they'll be fine. I'll bring you sothing for supper when I get back tonight."
"Quit nagging. Like I'd stay ho eating leftovers on a rare, peaceful night without the kids around! Of course I'm going to find a nice izakaya and drink to my heart's content!" Toshiki declared, clinging to the last shreds of his pride.
"Don't you dare drive after drinking! And if you do plan on drinking, give the izakaya owner Hojou's number before you start. That way, when you're too drunk to move, they can call him, and we'll co pick you up together," Mitsuha instructed firmly.
She wasn't trying to stop him—after all, whether married or not, grabbing drinks at an izakaya in the evening was normal in Japan.
Back in the Showa era, n who didn't go out for post-work drinks were looked down on—even by their wives—for lacking ambition or a future.
"..."
Her tone, like that of a wife already used to managing such things, hit Toshiki square in the chest.
She no longer had to worry about drunken creeps pestering her if she left her number.
She no longer had to fear the dangers of hailing a cab alone at night.
She no longer needed to worry if her slender arms could drag her stubborn father out of a taxi.
Because now, by her side, stood a reliable husband who'd help carry her foolish, troublemaking father ho from the izakaya.
Damn... this stings. It really stings!
"I got it…" Toshiki muttered in defeat, then turned his gaze sharply toward Hojou.
"Have Mitsuha and Yotsuba ho before nine! And drive safe!"
"Of course, sir." Kyousuke gave a polite fifteen-degree bow of respect.
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