The sky was gloomy, and a light rain started to fall.
Kazuto Kyosuke, beaten black and blue, was hauled off by the police.
And just like that, the case was closed.
Sure, two cops had been killed, and the police department's reputation took a hit. But cracking the case in just two or three days? That was enough to make up for it and shut the media up.
The higher-ups at the National Police Agency were pleased. The very next day, they held a press conference at the Metropolitan Police Department.
As the guy who'd cracked the case, Fujino was naturally invited to step up and say a few words—highlighting the importance of cooperation between the police and civilians.
Stepping out of the press conference…
"Seriously, do they all get these thank-you plaques from the same factory or something?"
Fujino stared at the fancy certificate in his hands, shaking his head. Gold-trimmed copper frame, identical formatting—it wasn't *exactly* the same as the ones he'd gotten before, but it might as well have been carved from the same mold.
He didn't get it. Why were these guys always handing out plaques? What's next—collect seven from different prefectures and summon Shenron?
Fujino didn't care much for the plaques, honestly. But thankfully, on top of that, the higher-ups had tossed him a bonus for helping with the investigation: a cool million yen.
It wasn't a fortune, but it was a nice little perk. Add that to the four million he'd already earned, and it rounded out to a neat five million.
Money's great and all, but that wasn't the real win here. The big payoff was getting his face known inside the Metropolitan Police Department. He'd rubbed elbows with Odagiri Toshiro, built a connection there, and even proved his chops to Superintendent Hakuba. Next time he needed a favor from the Criminal Affairs Division, a quick mention should get him what he wanted—within reason, of course.
Lost in thought, Fujino made his way to the parking lot. He glanced around, saw no one nearby, tucked the plaque into his personal storage space, and got ready to drive home.
But just as he was about to hop in the car, his phone rang, cutting through the quiet.
He pulled it out and froze when he saw the caller ID. It was none other than his frequent cash cow, Miss Momiji Ooka.
Staring at the name "Ooka Momiji" on the screen, Fujino felt a mix of emotions.
Sure, there was a chance for a fat commission, which got him a little excited. But it also felt… complicated. Not that he disliked her—he just didn't know how to handle it.
As a normal guy, having a rich lady throw money at him like this? It always left him a bit uneasy.
It's not like others hadn't splashed cash his way before, but those came with clear motives. With her, though…
*Ugh.* He knew she was after his looks, plain and simple.
But Fujino, pure and untouchable as he was, had no clue how to respond. After raking in so much commission from her, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.
If he were a regular guy, he'd have already caved—thanking his "sugar mommy" with undying devotion, probably with a kid calling him "Daddy" by now.
But Fujino wasn't your average Joe.
As a穿越者—a transmigrator—and one who could "see the future" no less, he wasn't sure where he stood. Not with himself, not with her, not with anyone. Whether it was Miyano Shiho, Ooka Momiji, or whoever else, it was all the same.
He'd known everything about them before they even met. Once you know someone's worth and what you can get out of them, even the simplest interactions start to feel… off.
Sighing, Fujino rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.
This kind of relationship always seemed to carry a hint of self-interest to him. Whether it was promises holding him back, the lure of a rich patron, or just friendship with classmates—he could never tell if he was using them or genuinely caring.
If it was all just exploitation, then these profit-driven feelings were more like torture.
Fujino was a serious guy. He craved something pure, something good, but he couldn't figure himself out.
Overthinking, second-guessing—that's how he'd sum himself up.
With another quiet sigh, he shook it off.
Better not dwell too deep. Get stuck on a question with no answer, and he'd just spiral into a breakdown.
Taking a moment to steady himself, he answered the call.
"Fujino-kun!"
Momiji's voice came through, tinged with a hint of pride. "I just watched the press conference. You were amazing as always. No surprise there—you're *my*…"
"Ahem!" Fujino cut her off mid-sentence. "You mean you already saw the press conference?"
"Yup," she replied, nodding on the other end.
Fujino: "…"
He was pretty sure he'd only been confirmed for the conference last night. Outside the Metropolitan Police Department, no one should've known.
And yet, this girl had camped out by the TV this morning?
"That's some fast intel," he muttered.
He was certain there wasn't a leak on his end—no tapped phones, no one tailing him. With his cheats, that stuff wouldn't work anyway.
"So the leak's gotta be…"
"Wait, is there a rich lady mole in the police department?"
The thought sent a chill down his spine.
This woman was kind of terrifying. No wonder she was a dyed-in-the-wool Neon noble.
Snapping out of it, Fujino figured she wouldn't call just to chat. After some small talk, Momiji finally got to the point.
"Are you free this weekend to come with me to a wedding?"
"A wedding?" Fujino frowned.
"Yeah," Momiji said, thinking it over. "It's for a friend of mine named Wakaba."
"Your friend's only, what, seventeen or eighteen?" Fujino hesitated. "And she's getting married already?"
Sure, you *could* marry at that age, but it wasn't common. Usually, it was some old family betrothal thing.
"Normally, she wouldn't be tying the knot this early…" Momiji sighed. "Wakaba's my classmate. I'd call her a friend, I guess. A while back, someone snitched about her having an affair with one of our teachers—caught on camera leaving a hotel. The school tried to expel her over it."
"I pulled a few strings to get the expulsion dropped, but it still got back to her family."
Fujino: "…"
*A few strings? You sure that was "small"?? Reversing an expulsion like that…*
Shaking his head, he asked, "Care to elaborate on those 'strings'?"
"It's not a big deal," Momiji said casually. "I just had Iori dig into the principal and the head of the parent committee who pushed for Wakaba's expulsion. Turns out they were sleeping together. That's all."
Fujino: "…"
*So, you're out here playing detective too, huh, noble lady?*
He could already picture it—Iori Muga lurking outside a hotel, snapping pics like Fujino used to.
It made sense, though. Momiji had clout, sure, but that was *her* clout. For a friend-of-a-friend situation like this, expulsion wasn't worth a big fuss. Better to let Iori dig up some dirt and settle it quick.
"But how does her family finding out lead to a wedding?" Fujino asked, leaning into the gossip. "Don't tell me she's got some childhood fiancé waiting in the wings?"
"She does, actually," Momiji said, surprised for a second. Then, remembering Fujino's detective skills, she thought, *Of course my man's this sharp,* and continued. "After her family found out, they decided she shouldn't stay in school. They dragged her back home to marry her betrothed."
"Oh, I get it," Fujino said, piecing it together.
So, this Wakaba girl got caught in a student-teacher fling, nearly got expelled, and while Momiji saved her from that, her family flipped out, yanked her home, and set her up with her old fiancé.
Poor fiancé's basically a rebound champ now.
"Yesterday, she sent me an invite to her wedding," Momiji said, sounding a bit torn. "It's in a village called Rokakumura in Aomori. Grandpa's worried about me going alone, so I thought I'd ask you to come with me."
"So this is a protection gig?" Fujino sorted his thoughts, then voiced his confusion. "But for a wedding? You wouldn't need me for that. Doesn't Iori usually handle your bodyguard stuff?"
"Well, Iori's tied up with some things lately…" Momiji paused. "How's two million yen sound for the job?"
"Alright, just let me know the night before. I'll head over to Kyoto myself."
---
Two days later, Saturday, the day before Wakaba's wedding…
Towering trees lined the jungle path, sunlight filtering through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
A small off-road family Jeep rumbled down a dirt road toward Rokakumura in Aomori Prefecture.
Fujino, Haihara Ai, and Ooka Momiji sat in the back. Driving? That'd be Odagiri Jin—the teacher who'd been sneaking around with Wakaba.
The name rang a bell, though. *Wait, is this guy related to Odagiri Toshiro or something?*
Haihara Ai was there for her usual reason—keeping the "bad woman" from stealing her Fujino. Fujino saw through it but played along, bringing her as a convenient cover.
As for why Odagiri Jin tagged along? Bit of a long story. Short version: he wanted to see Wakaba in Rokakumura. Probably some sappy "boyfriend wants to see his girl one last time before she weds" thing.
His excuse? He couldn't stop the wedding, but he still wanted a final goodbye.
Fujino just thought the guy was pathetic. If you like her that much, why not keep her? Why wait until the day before to pull some dramatic "steal the bride" stunt?
"This road's awful," Haihara Ai grumbled from Fujino's lap, her little face flushed. "Are we even going the right way?"
The path to Rokakumura was a mess—bumpy enough to rival that time Mouri Kogoro took a wrong turn.
Haihara was dressed in khaki shorts that hugged her slim legs, paired with a white blouse—cute but steady vibes. Her small frame couldn't handle the jolts; every pothole sent her bouncing up and crashing back down, banging her head and butt.
Fujino had no choice but to pull her onto his lap to keep her from flying into the ceiling.
"The address Wakaba gave me says this is it. Should be right…" Momiji sat on Fujino's right, clutching his arm to her chest with one hand while checking the invite's map with the other.
She wore a sleeveless white top and black pants, her figure accentuated—steady, but with a sharp, refined edge. She tried to keep her composure, but the bone-rattling road forced her to lean half her weight onto Fujino for stability. Intentional or not, who could say?
Haihara twisted around to glare at Momiji, her eyes locking onto Fujino's arm buried in Momiji's chest. She froze. *Stare—*
She thought she had decent assets herself. But after that hot spring hotel incident… Momiji's were bigger. Visually, at least. C… D-cup?
*They're practically floating!*
What did this woman *eat* to get like that? And why was she so calm about it—like it was no big deal?
"Hm?" Momiji noticed Haihara's stare but didn't think much of it.
To her, Ai was just a little sister type. Sitting on Fujino's lap? Fine. Sharing a bed? No problem. Zero threat.
She flashed Haihara a warm smile.
Haihara: "...?"
*Is she mocking me?*
She glanced down at her own chest. "…"
She *used* to have something going on there. *Used* to…
Caught in the middle, Fujino didn't catch the silent showdown. Dressed in his usual black suit, he sat stiff as a board, dead-fish eyes staring ahead, not daring to move.
With every bump, Haihara bounced up and landed back on his lap—not painful, more like a weird massage. Momiji clung to his side, arm tucked in tight.
Pinned from both sides, Fujino was in a bind. If he had to sum it up in one phrase? *Shared peril, shared peace.*
(End of Chapter)