A private apartnt near Shibuya Station, Tokyo.
The air inside was thick with tension, pressing down like an invisible weight.
A real estate agent—two years into the business—was currently facing an unusual dilemma.
Today's client was a breathtakingly beautiful young woman. As always, she maintained a cool and elegant deanor, speaking little as they toured the apartnt.
Everything had gone smoothly—until the mont she stepped inside and locked eyes with the landlord.
The room froze.
A silent, electric pressure filled the space, too heavy for the agent to ignore. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, forcing a stiff smile as she cautiously asked,
"Do you two... know each other?"
The question shattered the silence.
The landlord, a man who seed completely unbothered by the tension, set the contract aside and stood up, stretching slightly before flashing an easy, knowing smile.
"We do," he said. His voice was calm, confident. Unshaken.
The agent, who prided herself on reading the mood, instinctively felt that "knowing each other" was an understatent. But professionalism ca first. If this connection could help close the deal, all the better.
"That's wonderful!" she said quickly. "If you two are already acquainted, this will make things much easier! We can sit down and go over the details of the contrac—"
"There's no need," the woman interrupted, her tone sharp and decisive.
The chill in her voice felt like a sudden gust of winter wind, making the agent unconsciously shrink back, despite the warm spring weather outside.
But the landlord? He didn't react at all. If anything, the amusent in his eyes deepened.
"Kasumigaoka-senpai," he said smoothly, "as decisive as ever."
"Tch!"
A sharp click of the tongue echoed through the apartnt.
Kasumigaoka Utaha—elegant, beautiful, and currently fuming—crossed her arms over her chest. The movent caused her crisp white school uniform to tighten slightly, emphasizing her figure. Her long, slender legs, clad in black stockings, trembled almost imperceptibly as her leather shoes tapped against the wooden floor.
Anyone who knew her well would recognize this small habit of hers. She did it when she was irritated. Or flustered.
And right now? She was definitely both.
For all her cool-headed, untouchable deanor, this man—her ex-boyfriend—had thrown her completely off balance with just one sentence.
If she were truly as decisive as she claid to be, she wouldn't be standing there, hesitating.
She wouldn't have reacted so obviously.
And they both knew it.
"Speaking of decisiveness," she shot back, her voice laced with cold sarcasm, "who could possibly be more decisive than you? Isn't that right, ex-boyfriend-kun?"
The real estate agent's breath hitched.
She had suspected as much, but hearing it confird sent a strange chill down her spine.
This wasn't just an awkward reunion.
This was the unmistakable tension of ex-lovers eting again—one side still holding onto resentnt, the other completely unfazed.
Subtly, she glanced at the landlord.
A sudden sumr breeze pushed past the clouds, allowing sunlight to stream through the window behind him. The golden light outlined his sharp features, highlighting the contrast between his unruly hair and his refined, almost aristocratic bone structure.
His skin was smooth, strikingly fair. His brows, naturally sharp. His eyes? A piercing gaze that felt as if it could see through anyone with just a glance.
The agent couldn't help but stare for a mont.
Ah.
So that's why.
The mystery of why a goddess-like beauty such as Kasumigaoka Utaha looked ready to murder soone suddenly made sense.
This man wasn't just so random ex. He was dangerously attractive, the type who left an impact. The type won regretted losing.
A sour feeling twisted in the agent's stomach.
Damn Riajuus. Not only do you get all the fun in youth and love, but now you're making my job difficult too?!
"Ugh, so annoying! Riajuus should explode!"
anwhile, the landlord—who had just been called out by na—remained completely unbothered.
If anything, he seed entertained.
His lips curled into an even wider grin as he leaned back slightly, hands casually tucked into his pockets.
"Hello there, my ex-girlfriend."
Kasumigaoka Utaha flinched—just a little—but that tiny movent didn't escape his notice.
Her irritation surged, evident in the sharp exhale she let out before turning to the agent.
"I want another apartnt," she said icily.
The real estate agent hesitated.
Clearing her throat, she spoke carefully.
"Apologies, Kasumigaoka-san, but at the mont, this might be the only apartnt that ets your requirents."
As expected, the room's temperature seed to drop.
She quickly added, "This is Shibuya, after all. Private apartnts here are rare, and the available listings are extrely limited..."
Kasumigaoka Utaha wasn't unreasonable. She understood the reality of Tokyo's housing market.
Still, the steady clack-clack of her shoes against the floor resud.
She was backed into a corner.
Option one: Rent this apartnt.
Option two: Waste more ti searching for sothing farther away or with worse conditions.
As a night owl, proximity to Toyosaki Academy was important. And given her work as a novelist, she needed privacy and quiet.
In other words—this apartnt was perfect.
Except for one thing.
The landlord.
Her gaze flickered toward him again.
He was still watching her, still smirking.
That expression—was that provocation?
It was.
Definitely.
Kasumigaoka Utaha clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
She refused to let him win.
"I'll take it," she declared, voice firm.
The landlord's smirk widened ever so slightly.
"Good choice."
Kasumigaoka Utaha swore she saw a flash of amusent in his eyes—like a predator who had just lured his prey exactly where he wanted it.
But she lifted her chin, unwilling to back down.
If he thought this was over, he was dead wrong.
This was just the beginning.
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