[Service Club Room, Sobu High School — Late Afternoon, Spring]
The afternoon light filtered through half-drawn blinds, casting golden bars across worn wooden desks. The service club room smelled of green tea left too long in the pot, mixed with the faint sweetness of Yui's strawberry lip gloss and the clean cotton scent of Yukino's cardigan.
Kawasaki Taishi lowered his head, fingers twisting in his lap.
He fiddled with the hem of his middle school uniform jacket, a troubled expression pulling at his young features. At the same time, his gaze kept drifting—quick, furtive glances toward Yukinoshita-senpai's elegant figure.
She's... really pretty. Like someone out of a drama.
Middle school boys were already developing crushes, hearts lurching at every beautiful face. And Yukino Yukinoshita—with her ink-black hair falling straight past her shoulders, pale skin like fresh paper, and those piercing eyes—naturally commanded attention. Kawasaki Taishi had frozen the moment she'd spoken, struck dumb by her.
Yukino seemed to realize her tone had been sharp. She adjusted her posture, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward slightly, trying to soften her presence.
"Since it's come to this, Kawasaki Taishi, correct? Could you please explain the specific content of your request?"
"Okay—!"
His voice cracked. He cleared his throat, face reddening.
Komachi caught his eye from across the room, chin propped on her palm, grinning like a cat watching a mouse stumble. She waggled her eyebrows.
Oh, this is going to be good.
Taishi scratched the back of his head, fingers catching in dark hair that hadn't been combed properly. He didn't want to be this nervous. But the senpai in front of him was simply too beautiful.
Hozuki Nozomi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Then hurry up and say it. Stop peeking." He jerked his thumb toward Yukino. "Yukinoshita is mine. You won't get a chance even if you keep peeking."
"Hiss—!"
Two sets of fingers found his waist simultaneously—Yukino's from the left, Yui's from the right—pinching hard through his shirt.
"Idiot," Yukino muttered, cheeks dusted pink, "what are you saying in front of children?"
"They're middle schoolers already, they're not little anymore, okay?!"
This man, Yukino thought, eye twitching. Absolutely shameless.
Yui giggled, her coral-painted nails retreating from Nozomi's ribs. Yukino-chan's so cute when she's flustered~
Kawasaki Taishi ducked his head, shame burning in his chest—but underneath it, envy coiled tight. He wished his future girlfriend would be even half as beautiful as Yukinoshita-senpai.
"Um, it's like this."
After organizing his thoughts, he spoke slowly, each word deliberate.
"Recently, my older sister has often not returned home at night. She comes back only around 5 AM every day. I tried asking her about it, but she said it wasn't my business." His hands curled into fists against his thighs. "I suspect... my sister went to work at some strange place for this to happen!"
The word strange hung in the air, heavy with implication.
For a boy in puberty, the suggestion of that kind of establishment was enough to make his ears burn crimson.
"Uh..."
Yukino's brow furrowed. She exchanged a quick glance with Yui.
"Why do you think that, specifically?"
Of course I know exactly where Kawasaki Saki has been, Yukino thought, pressing her lips together. Busy with Haruno-nee and Mother. She certainly wouldn't have time for anything improper.
Kawasaki Taishi clenched his fist harder, knuckles whitening.
"I have my reasons."
He took a breath.
"Ever since my mother was hospitalized due to overwork, our family's situation hasn't been good. But one day, my older sister—Kawasaki Saki—suddenly brought back 500,000 yen. Not only did she pay off the medical bills, but she also improved our living conditions. Food. Utilities. Everything."
His voice wavered.
"I asked her what kind of work paid so well. She refused to tell me. Said it was a secret."
The word dripped with suspicion.
"Moreover, I recently heard from a friend that his older sister was being a mistress to an old man to earn pocket money, working in an improper place. So I feel..."
He trailed off, jaw tight.
"...my sister might be in the same situation."
Yukino's gaze snapped to Hozuki Nozomi.
Her eyes narrowed into slits—sharp as broken glass.
Mistress, her stare said. To an old man. Interesting choice of words.
Of course.
Kawasaki Saki was currently Hozuki Nozomi's mistress.
Nozomi pretended not to notice Yukino's disdainful look, examining the ceiling with sudden fascination. He turned to Taishi instead, expression carefully neutral.
"Could it be that you've misunderstood?"
"Kawasaki Saki-san and I are in the same class," he continued smoothly. "We're friends. She doesn't seem like the type of girl who would work at a strange establishment."
Taishi's shoulders tensed.
"I also hope I'm wrong." His voice cracked again. "But one day the owner of a shop called our house, and I answered. I vaguely heard something about 'Angel's' in the conversation."
He looked up, eyes bright with conviction.
"'Angel's'—that immediately sounds like an improper place!"
This poor kid, Komachi thought, stifling a laugh behind her hand. He's got quite the imagination.
"So," Yukino said, folding her hands in her lap, tone serious, "what do you hope we can do?"
Kawasaki Taishi bit his lip. His expression crumpled—something raw and young surfacing beneath the bravado.
"My sister used to be a very gentle person. She always took care of her younger brothers and sisters at home. Cooking dinner. Helping with homework. Walking us to school."
His voice dropped to a near-whisper.
"I don't want my sister to do anything that harms herself because of our family's situation."
He straightened, fists trembling at his sides.
"If possible, I hope to find the shop where my sister works and make her return to her original self. I want to tell her—I'm not a child anymore. I'll find a way to contribute to this family too."
Hozuki Nozomi shook his head slowly.
"Employing child labor is illegal, you know. You're only a middle school student—even if you want to work part-time, you can't."
He leaned forward, elbows on knees.
"So I think you should trust your sister. As for earning money, it's better to wait until you're 18 and in high school."
The words landed like stones.
Kawasaki Taishi's shoulders slumped. His fists uncurled, fingers going limp against his uniform pants.
Fatal blow, Nozomi thought. But it's the truth.
Even if the kid wanted to do something for his family, he had to be old enough first. Otherwise, everything was just empty talk.
Yukino spoke next, her tone measured but not unkind.
"As a student, I believe what's most important for you right now is focusing on your studies. Improve your grades. After graduation, you can find a suitable job and reduce your family's burden properly."
She straightened her spine, chin lifting.
"As for your sister's matter—leave it to us to investigate. We, the Service Club, accept your request."
Taishi's head snapped up.
"Really?" Hope flooded his features. "Thank you, Yukinoshita-nee!"
Nee. Yukino's cheek twitched at the sister honorific—too intimate, too familiar—but she let it slide.
---
Then, naturally, Hozuki Nozomi found himself kicked out of the study group.
Yukino's orders were absolute: Go ask your mistress about the situation yourself.
Helpless, Nozomi pulled out his phone and dialed Kawasaki Saki's number.
---
Twenty minutes later.
A café near the station, smelling of roasted beans and warm milk. Late afternoon sunlight poured through floor-to-ceiling windows, catching dust motes suspended in the air.
Kawasaki Saki strode through the door.
She cut a striking figure—a cool beauty in a fitted navy suit, the jacket tailored sharply at the waist. Her high ponytail swung with each confident step, steel-blue hair catching the light like polished metal. Sharp cheekbones. Narrow, cat-like eyes. The kind of face that made salarymen trip over their briefcases.
Heroic, Nozomi thought, appreciating her. Dashing.
"What's wrong?"
She stopped at his table, arms crossed, one hip cocked. The scent of her perfume drifted toward him—something clean and slightly woody, sandalwood mixed with white tea.
"Why are you in such a hurry to find me? I've been quite busy lately."
Hozuki Nozomi smiled, spreading his arms wide.
"Come here. Let me hug you for a bit before we talk."
Kawasaki Saki rolled her eyes—a full rotation, dramatic enough to strain the muscles—but her body moved honestly. She stepped into his embrace, her arms sliding around his waist, cheek pressing against his shoulder.
He pulled her close, one hand settling on the curve of her lower back, the other smoothing over her ponytail.
"Good girl."
"Hmph."
She sighed against his collarbone, breath warm through his shirt.
"Who told you to be my boss? If I'm not good, what if you cut my salary?"
This man, she thought, closing her eyes briefly. Always finding excuses to touch me.
Not that she minded.
"So." She pulled back slightly, though her hands remained on his sides. "What exactly is the important matter?"
Nozomi's palm lingered on her hair, fingers combing through the silken strands.
"It's your younger brother. Kawasaki Taishi."
Saki's brow furrowed.
"He thinks you're working in some improper place. He even thinks you're selling your body—being a mistress to an old man." Nozomi paused, mouth quirking. "So he came to our Service Club for help with the investigation."
"..."
"So, why was there a call from the bar owner about 'Angel's Heartbeat' looking for you?"
"Also—haven't you told your parents about your job?"
Kawasaki Saki stared at him.
Then she pressed a hand to her forehead, exhaling long and slow through her nose.
"What is that kid even imagining?"
She stepped back, running her fingers through her bangs.
"I was carrying out Haruno-nee's instructions to acquire the 'Angel's Heartbeat' bar. That day I was half-asleep when the owner called—and she accidentally dialed my home number instead of my cell."
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"As for my work, I told my parents. But I haven't told my younger siblings—and besides, the fact that I work at a virtual reality gaming company must be kept confidential."