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"Besides, even if the penalty for breach of contract is steep, isn't the protection clause completely reasonable? If the band members never even considered breaking contract, then couldn't they simply... disregard this point entirely?"
To persuade Togawa Sakiko completely and eliminate any future complications for the band, Kazama Haru allowed a knowing smile to curve his lips.
"When signing the contract, if any member expresses concern over this clause, I'll personally explain that this seemingly excessive provision is entirely the stubborn opinion of me—this black-hearted Band Manager."
"And Togawa-san, as the band's founder, fiercely opposed my approach. But alas, it was futile."
His tone remained light, almost playful, as though the thought of becoming a villain in others' eyes didn't trouble him in the slightest.
"This way, Togawa-san's gentleness and reliability as a leader will never be questioned. Perhaps by positioning me—this heartless Manager—as the 'common enemy,' it might even strengthen your unity as a group."
Regarding his self-sacrificing method, Togawa Sakiko listened in silence, her chin dipping slightly.
He's willing to tarnish his own reputation... doing everything possible to maintain Ave Mujica's stability and my image as their leader.
The so-called shadow protecting the light from offstage—that's exactly what this was, wasn't it?
Viewed this way, his determination toward Ave Mujica was even more steadfast than hers, the very person who'd founded it.
"..."
After a beat of contemplative quiet, Sakiko released a soft, melodic chuckle.
She lifted her head slowly. Her gaze finally settled on Kazama Haru's profile, and the smile gracing her lips carried a warmth that reached her violet eyes.
"I've told you before, haven't I? If Kazama-kun keeps being like this... you'll really spoil me rotten. What will I do then?"
"However—" Her voice dropped, honeyed and deliberate. "—if this is what you truly wish, then... I'll leave it in your capable hands, Mister Villain."
Togawa Sakiko's words flowed gentle as a spring breeze.
True trust isn't about deferring to each other—it's about each person fulfilling their role to the absolute extreme.
Kazama Haru's words had crystallized that principle for her.
And so, she chose not to politely decline his kindness any longer. Instead, she would accept it—wholly, completely.
Simultaneously, a quiet resolve took root in her chest: she would repay his selfless burden with her most devoted performances on stage. Every note. Every gesture. For him.
"Togawa-san..."
Surprised that Sakiko could embrace his twisted approach so openly, a wave of genuine relief washed through Kazama Haru.
This stubborn, heart-wrenching girl... she's finally learning to lean on someone.
Amidst that relief, he suddenly became acutely aware of something else entirely.
During their conversation—both leaning toward the modest 13.3-inch laptop screen—their distance had unconsciously shrunk.
Far too close.
Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her shoulder, bleeding through the thin fabric of her blouse. Close enough that the subtle fragrance of her perfume curled into his senses with each shallow breath. Close enough to count the delicate trembling of her silver lashes.
Their shoulders pressed together. Not quite an embrace, but something dangerously adjacent to one.
The room fell so silent that only the insistent drumming of a heartbeat remained. His? Hers? Impossible to distinguish.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Heat crept up Kazama Haru's neck. He could feel the soft rhythm of Sakiko's breathing against the shell of his ear—each exhale ghosting across his skin like a whispered secret. Her thigh, clad in dark stockings, pressed flush against his own through layers of fabric, and the contact sent a jolt of awareness shooting straight down his spine.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them could move.
Sakiko's fingers rested motionless on her knee, mere centimeters from his own hand. If he shifted—just barely—their fingers would brush. The thought alone made his throat tighten.
This is bad.
Her lips parted slightly. Was she going to say something? Those rose-petal lips, glossy and soft, suddenly seemed far too noticeable. Far too close.
This is really, really bad.
Clearing his throat, Kazama Haru finally gathered the willpower to break the spell. He shifted his weight, prepared to create some desperately needed distance—
"Ara ara? Haru-chan, aren't you going to work today?"
A voice so saccharine it could induce diabetes—like honeyed poison dripping from a razor's edge—pierced the intimate atmosphere.
Sena Ajisai had materialized at the doorway at some indeterminate point, her hands clasped innocently behind her back. Her bright eyes surveyed the two figures on the sofa—practically tangled together—and her smile stretched several degrees sweeter than usual.
Too sweet. Dangerously sweet.
As though electrocuted, Kazama Haru launched himself backward, creating several body-lengths of distance from Sakiko in an instant. His survival instincts screamed that failing to do so would invite irreversible consequences.
"Uh... Ajisai, when did you—"
But Ajisai had apparently elected to ignore his stammered question entirely. Instead, she directed that radiant, terrifying smile at Togawa Sakiko.
"Ara~ A guest! How rare! Welcome, welcome!"
"H-hello. I am Togawa Sakiko. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Despite being startled by both the sudden intrusion and Kazama Haru's borderline-comical reaction, Sakiko's refined upbringing kicked in automatically. She rose to her feet and executed a graceful bow, her movements impeccably elegant.
"Hello there, Togawa-san~ My name is Sena Ajisai." The newcomer tilted her head with practiced charm, pale blue sundress swaying gently. "I'm his osananajimi—we've lived next door since we were this tall." She held a hand at knee-height for emphasis. "Haru-chan must have mentioned me, right?"
The pointed glance she sent toward Kazama Haru carried the weight of unspoken threats.
"Y-yes! Of course!"
Kazama Haru nodded frantically, head bobbing like a desperate woodpecker. Cold sweat traced a slow path down his temple.
Strange.
Ajisai's smile looked identical to her usual one—warm, gentle, utterly disarming. And yet, every single time she caught him in private conversation with another girl, that exact same smile made him break out in a cold sweat.
What dark sorcery is this?
"Mou~ Haru-chan, really now. You didn't even tell me we had a guest." Ajisai's tone carried a melodic reproach, yet something beneath it radiated an unsettling sense of territorial authority.
To an outsider unfamiliar with the dynamics, she would undoubtedly seem like the young mistress of the Kazama household.
Kazama Haru managed a strained smile. "Togawa-san is my partner in the band. She came today to discuss some details regarding our future plans."
"Sou ka~ I remember you mentioning something about forming a band." Ajisai's eyes curved into crescents. "I didn't realize your partner would be such an elegant and lovely lady."
She dipped into another bow toward Togawa Sakiko, her voice sweet as konpeitō candy.
"Togawa-san, please don't let Haru-chan's reliable senpai act fool you. In certain matters, he's actually surprisingly childish. Do take good care of him from now on, ne?"
"N-not at all!" Togawa Sakiko straightened quickly, waving her hands in polite denial while returning the bow—the two of them dipping simultaneously like participants in some elaborate ceremonial exchange. "It's me who should say that! Kazama-kun has helped me tremendously. Truly, I'm the one who's constantly been receiving his care."
While bowing, Sakiko found herself unconsciously studying this "childhood friend" who had materialized in Kazama's home—every word from those glossy lips carrying subtle, unmistakable implications.
Her demeanor radiated cheerful warmth. That healing smile, that gentle tone—the kind that naturally drew people closer, inspiring trust and affection without apparent effort.
A pale blue summer dress that accentuated her soft, feminine silhouette. An alluring figure that curved in all the right places. A face sweet enough to grace magazine covers.
She's like... a fragrant, soft, freshly-baked chocolate gâteau.
If Sakiko were a man, she might genuinely fall in love with such a woman at first sight. Confessing on the spot wouldn't be entirely out of the question.
...What am I even thinking?
Then the crucial detail resurfaced: childhood friend.
Sakiko's gaze drifted toward Kazama Haru's unnaturally rigid posture, then back to Ajisai's smile—radiant yet layered with meaning.
Ah. So that's how it is.
The atmosphere suddenly made perfect sense.
Observing Kazama Haru standing "obediently" beside her like a scolded puppy, an unfamiliar twinge of irritation sparked in Sakiko's chest.
For a young lady of her standing, there existed no principle of sharing something she considered truly hers with others.
He was her Band Manager. He had already sworn to dedicate his life to her cause. So why was he acting so deferential toward someone else?
Even if that someone was an osananajimi—surely there were limits?
Besides... if this came down to a contest of appearances alone, Sakiko didn't believe she'd lose. In fact, she rather suspected she held the advantage.
With such conflicted sentiments swirling beneath her composed exterior, a subtle edge—sharp as a hidden blade—slipped into Sakiko's soft, aristocratic laugh:
"However, Sena-san makes an excellent point."
She tilted her chin, violet eyes glinting.
"Compared to a childhood friend who rarely gets to see him these days... I—as a 'partner' who can meet him whenever I please—am constantly 'forced' to worry alongside him, devise solutions together, and engage in very close cooperation due to our many shared endeavors."
Her smile remained pristine, but the emphasis on certain words carried unmistakable territorial weight.
"So, I will certainly take full responsibility for looking after him."
Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.