The Yukinoshita Family…
To the established upper class, the so-called "old money," they were viewed with a mixture of disdain and dismissal—upstarts, opportunists, never truly one of them.
They lacked the centuries of curated lineage, the silent estates passed down through generations of bankers and diplomats.
They were new blood, and in the eyes of the aristocracy, that made them crude. Calculated. Unrefined.
But they were not something ordinary people could afford to underestimate, much less offend.
They were not just a wealthy family; they were a political dynasty rooted in Chiba, holding seats in the prefectural assembly and commanding a vast construction empire.
And people outside often misunderstood what "construction company" meant in Japan. It wasn't merely bulldozers and cranes moving earth. It was politics. It was votes. It was jobs. It was control of land, infrastructure, and the lifelines of development.
Whenever the government planned a new highway, a dam, an airport, or a massive housing project, the Yukinoshita family's company was the hand that held the shovel — and the pen that signed the contracts.
Chiba wasn't just another prefecture. It was Tokyo's extended backyard. Narita International Airport sat there, funneling millions of travelers every year.
Makuhari Messe, a giant exhibition complex, brought in international business and culture. The ports, highways, and suburban sprawl all pulsed with capital. And woven into every one of those arteries was Yukinoshita Construction.
A successful Japanese construction company never stopped at construction.
They branched into real estate speculation, logistics, hotel ownership, office buildings, rental apartments, even infrastructure management.
Yukinoshita Construction wasn't just about pouring concrete; it was a local empire, a holding structure with roots in every profitable corner of Chiba's growth.
Most people painted them too small — reducing them to nothing more than a family with a "construction business."
That was naive, almost laughable.
The Yukinoshita family was a political powerhouse with ties deep inside Japan's bureaucratic and corporate circles.
They weren't zaibatsu, true, but in Chiba they carried the weight of local emperors, warlords in suits, separatists if they ever wanted to play that card.
The loli goddess laid all of this out for me in that infuriatingly knowing tone of hers.
I stared blankly into the mental space she occupied. "I'm not even sure what your limits are anymore. You appear to know everything. Down to the political wiring of a regional dynasty. It's starting to feel like I'm walking around with a living cheat code."
"Humph! If you're so impressed, you could always lick my feet, Aqua. Plenty of people would kill for that privilege. And I'm offering it to you. Well? Feeling touched?" Tsukuyomi laughed, the sound haughty and entirely too pleased with herself.
I immediately regret praising this smug little brat.
Now, I was standing in one of the Yukinoshita Family's compounds in Chiba.
The woman who greeted us in the spacious, austere living room was a gorgeous young woman with sleek black hair and a graceful, polished demeanor.
Her smile was polite, practiced, and carried the faint chill of someone assessing an asset.
"Let me introduce myself. I am Haruno Yukinoshita. I'll be frank—I'm not entirely sure why you've come to us for… urgh… yes, the song. I mean, the Yukinoshita Family may have local television channels, even a stake in a national network, but are you certain…?"
"Do you have the studio facilities for recording? The necessary production setup?" I cut straight to the practical.
"That is manageable, don't worry about the logistics," she waved a dismissive hand, her smile never slipping.
"But we will be frank. We are… slow. And politically, we are inefficient. What we want is a good brand, a respected name, tied to ours. If a future diva wishes to join our sphere and promote our influence in the cultural landscape… why would we refuse?"
Haruno's eyes glinted with cold, pragmatic ambition.
Beside me, Arima Kana's eyes widened in disbelief. "It's that simple?"
"What did you think we were? A talent agency?" Haruno rolled her eyes, the gesture surprisingly human, more like an exasperated older sister than the stereotypical arrogant heiress TV loved to portray.
"We are sponsors. Investors. We demand the association of your name, not a binding contract that dictates your every move. Those five pretty idiots in I'll Go With Sweet Today are also our models. We didn't require acting skill. We don't restrict their actions. We only require them to be present, punctually, when we need their faces for our campaigns."
"Moreover, in politics," I added, picking up her thread, "scandal is the ultimate taboo. For the Yukinoshita Family, profit is secondary. Reputation and public fame are the foremost currency."
Haruno's polite smile sharpened into something more interested, more predatory. "Well. You're quite adept at navigating both politics and this industry, Aquamarine Hoshino. Creator of Viva la Vida. How would you feel about becoming the son-in-law of the Yukinoshita Family? My mother would like you. And you are… handsome."
I didn't flinch. I simply shrugged. "Allow me to refuse, Lady Yukinoshita. For you to date an actor—let alone marry one—would not bid well for the family name. The heiress of the Yukinoshita Family choosing a husband because he is a 'star' and 'handsome'? That would be a monumental scandal. The media and your rivals would paint you as a vain, frivolous woman. It would undermine everything."
Instead of being offended, Haruno Yukinoshita let out a low, dark chuckle.
Her gaze didn't waver.
If anything, it intensified.
"Your refusal," she said, her voice dropping into something dangerously amused, "only makes me more interested."
Before I could even form a reply, Arima Kana cleared her throat, a sharp, deliberate sound that cut through Haruno's loaded flirtation.
She forcefully steered the conversation back to solid ground.
"Since we've reached a mutual understanding," Kana said, her voice polite but strained, "is there a formal contract to review, Lady Yukinoshita?"
Her discomfort was obvious—she was sweating a little, her posture too rigid.
At the end of the day, no matter our fame, we were just entertainment workers sitting across from a political dynasty's heir, a woman whose father held a councilor's seat.
The power imbalance hung in the air, thick and silent.
Haruno regarded her for a long, quiet moment, then finally gave a slow, graceful nod. "Of course. Excuse me."
She rose and left the room, the scent of her perfume lingering behind.
When she returned, she held a single, crisp document.
She handed it to Kana, who immediately bent over it, her eyes scanning the dense text with fierce concentration.
As Kana read, Haruno continued speaking, her tone shifting to one of mild, world-weary frustration. "Director Kaburagi mentioned you also wish for her to star in a future film project of ours… But, well, we still don't have one."
She let out a sigh that seemed genuinely tired. "Every script we've received is… trying too hard. Desperately so. I believe if we released any of them, the public would feel the same strain. Perhaps we're simply too sensitive, or our perspective is too different from ordinary people. At this rate, I'm not even sure this 'future movie' will exist at all."
I waited for her to finish, then reached into my bag.
"How about trying this script, Lady Yukinoshita?" I offered, placing the bound manuscript on the table between us with a soft thud.
She didn't immediately reach for it.
Instead, she looked at me with intrigued curiosity. "You wrote this? I thought acting and composing songs were your limits."
"I did," I confirmed. "Sword Art Online, the film Argus is adapting for future release, was written by me. It will be directed by Director Gotanda. He is my teacher and mentor."
A soft, understanding smile touched her lips. "No wonder. If you're a student of Director Gotanda, then this story must be… substantial."
Her demeanor was oddly, disarmingly nice—almost spoiling, without a hint of the suspicion or negotiation I'd expected.
It made me wonder, not for the first time, just how potent this so-called "soulmate effect" truly was.
Finally, she picked up the script.
Her eyes, initially curious, began to move across the page.
Her focus deepened, her expression shifting from casual interest to intense concentration, and then to something akin to deep fascination, page by page, word by word.
When she looked up again, her eyes were bright, alight with a fervor I hadn't seen in her before.
"This… this is…" She struggled for words, a rare occurrence for someone of her poise. "I can't express how much I love this, Hoshino-kun."
"Every other script we received was too busy putting the 'Yukinoshita Family' on a pedestal, making us the main character in some grandiose, flattering narrative."
"But this… the perspective is my younger sister's. The story is told through the lens of her school life, yet it depicts our family with a realism I've never seen—not as a monument, but as a backdrop to her world. It's… authentic."
She placed the script down with a reverent finality, her gaze locking onto mine, full of undisguised desire.
"This script. I want it, Aqua-kun."
...
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