When Hoshino Ai pressed against him, parting his lips with her tongue, Kitagawa Ryo remained frozen. Across two lifetimes without ever experiencing romance, he'd imagined his first kiss countless times—perhaps after evening classes in high school, during a moonlit university stroll, or beneath fireworks painting the night sky. Never had he envisioned this.
Without warning or preamble, Ryo's lips were still dry when Ai enveloped him, as if determined to moisten his parched mouth with her own. Only when his phone rang did he snap back to reality. As he moved to push her away, Ai withdrew first, restoring a few centimeters between them.
The lingering warmth on his lips, the scent of her flooding his senses—Ryo's face burned crimson.
"..."
After several shaky breaths, he wiped his mouth with his right hand, leaving a faint but distinct lipstick streak.
Silence stretched between them—Ryo stunned, Ai smiling in relief. Desperate for distraction, he answered the still-ringing phone.
"Brother, why aren't you home yet? It's already 5:30."
Ruby's bright voice carried its usual playful whine.
"Ruby... yeah, got delayed. Heading back now."
"And no more snacks before dinner."
"Mm! Be careful on your way."
"I will."
Hanging up, Ryo turned to find Ai utterly unrepentant—like a child caught stealing candy yet still licking her lips triumphantly.
"If you think I went too far... you could always retaliate."
She clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward to slowly trace her lips with her tongue.
"If only you faced your mother with this confidence."
"...Ryo ruins everything."
"Because this is unavoidable. If you truly sought courage from me, one kiss sufficed. If you're escaping reality through me, even a hundred kisses wouldn't prepare you to confront her."
Checking the time, Ryo sighed softly:
"I need to go home. We'll proceed after Miyako-san's meeting tomorrow. You should rest too."
Yet at the doorway, whether as comfort or simple fact, he added:
"That... was also my first kiss."
"Hello, I'm Saitou Miyako—Ai's current guardian."
"Oh! I'm Ai's mother, Ayumi. Thank you for caring for my daughter all these years."
The next morning, Miyako met Hoshino Ayumi. Compared to the polished city people like Miyako, Ayumi appeared decades older despite being barely forty. Her hair is brittle and gray, skin sallow and rough.
Frankly, this haggard appearance would effortlessly garner public sympathy.
Not spotting Ai behind Miyako, Ayumi's disappointment flashed before resolve returned:
"I heard it was you and your husband who took Ai from the orphanage, raised her, made her an idol... I can't express my gratitude."
Her lips trembled as she bowed deeply.
"I know I failed as a mother. That's why she sent you instead of coming herself."
"But can blood ties ever truly be severed?"
Miyako remained silent as Ayumi monologued dramatically:
"When I was pregnant, everyone urged me to abort—Ai's father had already fled."
"Yet I defied my family to keep her. As a mother, I had to give her life."
"Uneducated, struggling to raise a newborn... those were hard years."
Her gaze flickered with hidden venom at Miyako's refinement before continuing tearfully:
"Barely twenty, forced to theft... all for Ai's sake."
"You're claiming you stole... to provide for Ai?" Miyako interjected carefully.
"What choice did I have?" Ayumi wiped imaginary tears. "Money meant survival. I feared Ai being bullied at school for being poor—"
Leaning in, Miyako studied Ayumi's weathered face and interrupted:
"You're an alcoholic."
"Police records show you were arrested stealing premium liquor—not necessities."
"Explain that."
Ayumi clutched her face as if pained:
"How could someone like you understand? An unskilled single mother's only option was hostess work!"
"I stole to supplement income—only targeting what I knew from bars!"
Miyako grimaced, recognizing Ayumi's terrifying skill—playing the victim while needling her opponent.
This narrative not only sanitized Ayumi's crimes but positioned Ai and the Saitou is as ungrateful villains.
A poverty-stricken mother stealing for her child, enduring prison to protect her daughter's reputation, now humbly seeking reconciliation in old age—this was Ayumi's crafted persona.
Ai's choice would determine the ending:
A heartwarming reunion between a persevering idol and her repentant mother?
Or a privileged star cruelly abandoning her struggling birth parent?
For Weekly Entertainment Scoop, both versions meant maximum traffic. For Ayumi, while the latter brought short-term attention, she craved permanent access to Ai's wealth.
Beneath this greed festered pure spite.
"Come to this address tomorrow. Ai will see you."
Miyako discreetly ended the call she'd kept active throughout before showing Ayumi the location.
"Wonderful!"
Ayumi memorized it, confident her daughter wouldn't dare choose option two.
After all—could blood ever truly be denied?
Public outrage would destroy Ai's career if she rejected her only living relative.
"Understood. So after medical evaluation, we still need family confirmation and signature?"
"Rest assured, the patient's relative is most willing."
"Huge help. Next time in Miyazaki, dinner's on me."
Hanging up, Ryo turned to Ichigo Saitou :
"Done."
"Dr. Goro's psychiatrist friends in Tokyo just need plausible evidence to issue evaluations."
"I wonder which psychiatric facility she'll prefer?"
Saitou frowned skeptically: "What evidence do you have for declaring Ayumi mentally ill?"
"She'll deliver it herself."
Gazing at the azure sky, Ryo smiled faintly:
"After hearing Miyako-san's account, I've profiled her personality."
"Today Ayumi visits Ai's home believing it's a mother-daughter reunion."
His eyes refocused on Saitou.
"But this isn't about blood relations after sixteen years apart."
"Then what is it?"
"Simple."
Ryo glanced at his phone wallpaper—a photo he'd taken with Ai last night, their hands forming a heart like genuine lovers.
"It's one woman meeting another."
"And that woman will ask: 'How dare you—live better than me?'"
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