The next few days passed in calm and ordinary fashion for Kiryu Kazuma. Other than the onset of the rainy season bringing more frequent showers, nothing much had changed.
In his previous life, Kazuma had lived in a seaside city in the south, long accustomed to persistent drizzles.
Back there, there was a kind of weather locals called Return South Days, which was even more humid than Japan's rainy season, with heavier rainfall to boot.
So to Kazuma, the Japanese rainy season was, quite literally, "just a bit of drizzle."
And so, in this unhurried rhythm, he continued reviewing for exams, practicing swordsmanship, and after returning home, teaching Ikeda Shigeru—who would come over after his part-time job—some basic kendo techniques. The days flowed by in steady simplicity.
The only thing lingering on Kazuma's mind was that Nanjo-san seemed to be preoccupied lately.
But he wasn't entirely sure. The other day, he'd acted like a true master swordsman, achieving unity of mind, technique, and body, reading hearts through the sword… but that had been thanks to a cheat, reading status tags.
Now, with no tags popping up on Nanjo, he was left clueless. He could tell she had something on her mind—but no more than that.
Like many guys, Kazuma was absolutely hopeless when it came to guessing what a girl might be thinking. Without cheat tags, he didn't stand a chance.
So, he went to consult his sister.
Chiyoko nodded. "Yeah, I feel like Senpai's been a little off too… but… I think it's probably that time of the month, so I'm not sure."
"Bro, you might not know this, but girls have a few days each month when their emotions can really swing."
"Oh, I know," Kazuma replied. "I paid full attention in health class."
"Ew, gross." Chiyoko teased.
Kazuma ignored her and leaned back against the dojo wall, shifting into a more comfortable position. While watching Ikeda practice basic kendo forms, he kept mulling it over.
Could that really be it?
Wednesday night.
Nanjō Honami returned home, changed into her kimono, and was about to go pay her respects to her grandfather when a housemaid informed her:
"Master Nanjo has gone out for a business dinner."
A faint sense of unease crept over Honami.
"And where's Grandpa Suzuki?" she asked.
That day, a different chauffeur had driven her to and from school.
"Housekeeper Suzuki accompanied the Master to the banquet as well."
At this, Honami's heart gave a small lurch.
She knew that her grandfather only brought old Suzuki along when attending very important functions.
After all, Suzuki, as the senior housekeeper, was always extremely busy with household affairs, including personally driving Honami. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have time to accompany her grandfather to dinners.
Honami thought back to the other day—when she'd bumped into her father, Nanjo Masahito, on her way to visit her grandfather. His expression then…
She told the maid, "You may go about your work," and turned away, stepping to the doorway. One hand rested lightly on the frame as she gazed out over the expansive—and frankly wastefully large—Japanese garden.
The steady drip of the shishi-odoshi echoed through the still night.
But her heart was in turmoil.
She'd long known that now she was in her third year of high school, the topic of marriage meetings would inevitably arise. But she had thought that would come after the autumn school trip.
That trip was a kind of milestone—after the cultural festival and the school trip, it would mark the closing chapter of high school life.
It was only after that when students were supposed to turn the page and begin the next stage—whether pursuing higher education or entering the workforce.
Before then, students were expected to savor their "last summer of high school"—an unspoken tradition.
Honami had believed her father would honor that timeline.
She'd thought she'd at least have one summer left to herself.
She stepped out of her washitsu, standing at the very edge of the engawa, her hand lightly gripping the wooden pillar beneath the eaves.
Extending her other hand, she let the fine rain fall upon her skin.
In the dark of night, the garden's hydrangeas were still in full bloom, their silhouettes clear even through the gloom.
The breeze carried the faint scent of white plum blossoms. Ever since Kazuma had mentioned liking that fragrance, she hadn't used any other perfume.
She suddenly recalled that conversation at Kazuma's dojo.
She remembered him saying, "The scent of white plum blossoms in the rain is the most enchanting."
The memory brought a soft smile to her lips.
And in that moment, standing in the rain-swept garden, her smile was truly the most beautiful blossom of all.
Facing the rainy night and the blooming hydrangeas, Honami softly recited Emily Dickinson's poem, "I'll Be Your Summer":
"I'll be your summer,
When summer has passed!
I'll be your music,
When nightingales cease!
I'll bloom for you, across the graveyard,
Scattering my blossoms wide!
Pluck me—anemone—
Your flower—will bloom for you, forever!"
When she finished the tender recitation, Honami made up her mind.
This summer—this summer alone—she would not allow anyone to ruin.
Old Suzuki had advised her to endure, to outwardly cooperate with her father.
And so, for now, she would endure the marriage meetings, the dinners, and the tea gatherings with potential suitors.
But if—if her father, Nanjo Masahito, attempted anything that would truly ruin this summer, then Honami was determined:
She would defend this precious, final summer of hers.
Her fingers tightened around the pillar, knuckles whitening.
The scent of plum blossoms grew richer with the rain.
Had Nanjo Hiroshi seen her now, he would surely have thought—his granddaughter had indeed grown into a true daughter of the samurai.
Meanwhile, at Matsuya, a famous kaiseki restaurant in Tokyo, the evening's business was thriving as usual.
Though to a casual observer, the steady flow of guests might not appear particularly impressive.
Such exclusive establishments served only a small number of patrons each day—usually by reservation only.
Naturally, they couldn't accommodate too many guests at once. After all, with each customer attended by a team of four to five staff—ranging from personal attendants to dedicated servers—it was an experience of utmost refinement.
Each private room even had its own geisha for entertainment, and sometimes, depending on the client's preference, comedians or other performers would be arranged.
A place like this, even serving only a few dozen patrons, required several hundred staff working seamlessly behind the scenes.
Which was why such venues never appeared crowded.
Of course, the costs were extravagant—but none of Matsuya's clientele cared about the price.
Tonight, Nanjo Hiroshi was seated in Matsuya's northern room, the "Bamboo Chamber," laughing heartily as he toasted with Councilman Asakura.
"Asakura-kun, meeting you tonight—it feels like we've known each other forever!" Nanjo exclaimed, downing his cup and clapping the councilman on the shoulder.
"Not at all," Asakura replied warmly. "I've long heard tales of your legendary career, Nanjo-san. It's been my hope to share a drink with you—and tonight, I finally have that honor."
He spoke with such familiarity, treating Nanjo as an elder brother, and even signaled subtly to his second son, Asakura Yasuzumi.
Yasuzumi promptly stepped forward, refilling Nanjo's cup while offering a polite compliment:
"Nanjo-sama's achievements are truly inspiring—I've learned so much."
Nanjo laughed, though his gaze remained unreadable as it flicked to Yasuzumi.
Suddenly, he asked, "Yasuzumi-kun, you truly have no interest in following your father into politics?"
Without hesitation, Yasuzumi replied, "Compared to my elder brother, I lack the necessary talents for public service. However, I excel in working with numbers, so I'm currently preparing to become a certified actuary."
At this, Nanjo Masahito quickly chimed in, "Ah, what an admirable goal! There are still so few internationally certified actuaries in Japan. As our companies continue expanding worldwide, I'm sure demand for actuaries will only grow."
Nanjo Hiroshi shook his head with a chuckle. "I'm too old for all these newfangled terms. What exactly is an actuary?"
Japan had an odd habit of transliterating foreign words into katakana rather than using proper translations. For instance, computer became konpyūtā, while in Chinese, it was rendered as "electric brain."
The term international actuary was likewise rendered in katakana, so it was no surprise the old man didn't recognize it.
Seeing this, Yasuzumi politely explained.
Nanjo Hiroshi laughed again. "Oh, I get it—it's just accounting, then! Hahaha, should've said that from the start."
Yasuzumi's expression stiffened momentarily, but he quickly forced a smile. "Haha, yes—accounting's distant cousin. Nanjo-sama's summary is quite accurate."
Nanjo Hiroshi fixed him with a piercing gaze for a few seconds, then finally chuckled. "Just teasing, Yasuzumi-kun. You're a fine young man, a fine young man."
Masahito visibly relaxed, exchanging a quick glance with Councilman Asakura.
The councilman then broached the topic directly. "Nanjo-san, I hear your granddaughter isn't yet engaged. Might I…?"
Nanjo Hiroshi nodded. "Yes, my granddaughter is not yet engaged. If you, Asakura-kun, wish to formally propose, feel free to choose an auspicious day to visit. However… whether it proceeds will ultimately depend on whether she likes the match."
Masahito added eagerly, "Oh, it will surely succeed! Yasuzumi-kun is handsome and talented—just like a movie star. I'm sure my daughter will be smitten the moment they meet."
Yasuzumi responded with practiced humility, "You flatter me. I still have many shortcomings—I do worry I may not meet Nanjo-san's expectations."
"Impossible! Hahaha, Yasuzumi-kun is just being modest," Masahito said, beaming.
Councilman Asakura looked equally pleased.
And Nanjo Hiroshi appeared content as well—he had just chosen what seemed to be a suitable match for his granddaughter.
Only his trusted old housekeeper, seated quietly behind him, wore an anxious expression.
Of course, none of the distinguished guests in attendance paid any mind to an old housekeeper's face—not even one of Nanjo Hiroshi's closest aides.
Councilman Asakura declared cheerfully, "Then my son and I shall prepare proper gifts and pay a visit this Friday!"
Nanjo Hiroshi nodded. "Very well. I will be sure to welcome you most graciously, Councilman."
Though he had been calling Asakura "younger brother" all evening, this time, Nanjo Hiroshi used the formal honorific.
(End of Chapter)