These were all things Yukima Azuma could have done himself, given more effort and time.
But for the sake of convenience and speed, he asked someone else to do it for him.
Hayasaka Ai was truly exasperated.
This was the second time she had been turned into a "convenient tool."
Does he think she looks like a blue tanuki?
She unmuted her phone.
"I understand."
Hayasaka Ai could imagine that if she refused,
The same line would echo on the other end of the phone: "Hayasaka, you don't want your mother to suffer losses, do you?"
Just thinking about it made Hayasaka Ai want to punch him in the face.
"Thank you, Hayasaka. You're truly a good person."
Yukima Azuma awarded Hayasaka Ai a "good person card."
"If there's nothing else, I'll hang up now."
Hayasaka Ai's voice was cold and firm.
"Just kidding. I'll remember these two favors you've done for me, and I'll prepare a thank-you gift for you later."
Yukima Azuma's tone lost its teasing edge and became more serious.
But Hayasaka Ai didn't care and simply replied, "Mm."
Then the call ended.
Hayasaka Ai put her phone back into her pocket, then walked to the mirror to adjust her skirt.
After tidying up, she opened her room door and walked down the long hallway.
Each step Hayasaka Ai took was light and precise, as if every movement had been measured with a ruler.
She was a model maid.
Every action and gesture adhered to the strict etiquette of a maid.
Furthermore, her loyalty to the mistress she served, Shinomiya Kaguya, was genuine and unwavering.
However, this perfect maid carried a heavy secret in her heart.
One that added pressure to her life every single day.
Stopping before the large, dark-red door,
Hayasaka Ai knocked.
"Kaguya-sama, it's time for breakfast."
From inside, a voice responded.
"Hayasaka, come in."
Hayasaka Ai pushed open the door and stepped inside.
She saw her mistress, Shinomiya Kaguya, already awake and sitting at the edge of her bed.
Moving to the wardrobe, Hayasaka retrieved Kaguya's daily outfit.
"Hayasaka, review my schedule for today," Kaguya said, raising her arms so Hayasaka could help her change.
"After breakfast, you have a two-hour flower arrangement lesson," Hayasaka began.
"Then a twenty-minute break, followed by archery practice until right before lunch."
"After a forty-minute lunch break, a private tutor will come in the afternoon for additional lessons. That's your schedule for today."
Hayasaka Ai summarized efficiently.
Shinomiya Kaguya's daily schedule was nearly airtight, leaving no room for idle time.
The so-called "private tutor" sessions in the afternoon weren't for regular subjects required by Shuchiin Academy.
Most high school subjects had long been mastered by Kaguya, who was already at a graduate-level proficiency.
Her current schooling at Shuchiin was purely for maintaining class rank.
The private tutor instead taught subjects like economics and political science, typically introduced only briefly in university.
And such a life...
Shinomiya Kaguya had been following a relentless schedule like this since she was six years old.
Occasionally, she would attend evening banquets and participate in social activities.
This rigorous routine would continue until she turned twenty.
Afterward, her schedule would grow even more suffocating.
Lessons would be replaced by real-world responsibilities like business management, corporate operations, and personnel recruitment.
By then, Kaguya would often travel extensively, even taking flights during particularly busy periods.
As the official heir to the Shinomiya conglomerate, Kaguya was born with a gold spoon in her mouth, but that gold spoon demanded endless dedication.
"I understand." Kaguya nodded calmly.
Then, as if recalling something, she asked:
"What about the upcoming Shuchiin Academy election?"
Hayasaka Ai's mouth twitched slightly, almost imperceptibly.
Recently, this was the third time her mistress had brought up the subject.
It was obvious that the position of Student Council President at Shuchiin was virtually guaranteed for Kaguya.
With her personality, Kaguya would never mention it repeatedly unless something else was on her mind.
This could only mean that what Kaguya truly cared about wasn't the election itself.
And as for what might be related to it, Hayasaka could think of only one thing:
The authority to decide the student exchange program allocation, a privilege granted to the Student Council President.
Could it be that her mistress was overly preoccupied with that man?
As an all-capable maid with a keen understanding of human nature, Hayasaka couldn't help but think:
Fixating too much curiosity and competitiveness on a member of the opposite sex was surely unwise.
However maybe it wasn't a big deal.
Hayasaka glanced at her mistress.
It was hard to imagine someone like the "Ice Princess" Shinomiya Kaguyawho had always evaluated people solely based on their valuefaltering in dealing with the opposite sex.
"Rest assured, Kaguya-sama. The votes from all divisions have been arranged, and this election will undoubtedly be successful," Hayasaka replied.
Kaguya nodded, her gaze drifting toward the window, the corner of her lips curling slightly.
Hayasaka Ai thought: Perhaps... it'll be fine... perhaps...
Chapter 123: Understanding and Compliance Are Two Different Things
Chapter 123: Understanding and Compliance Are Two Different Things
A few days passed in a blur.
During this time, Yukima Azuma and Kurokawa Akane never left the vacation house, not even once.
All necessitiescooking ingredients, books, and other daily itemswere addressed by placing delivery orders.
Gradually, Kurokawa Akane no longer needed threats or coercion; she began willingly taking care of Yukima Azuma.
For instance, when she noticed the boy gently rotating his wrist after working, she would instinctively reach out to massage it, helping him relax.
After a few cooking attempts, Kurokawa Akane started preparing meals for the two of them, steadily learning Yukima Azuma's dietary preferences.
Although her cooking skills couldn't compare to Yukima Azuma's, who had reached cooking level 7, the convenience of being cared for and the delicious meals left nothing to complain about.
After sharing a bed and blanket for several nights, Kurokawa Akane no longer waited for Yukima Azuma's requests; she naturally wrapped her arms around his neck at night.
Their communication also gradually increased.
Initially, only Yukima Azuma would ask questions, and Kurokawa Akane would selectively answer some of them.
Later, Kurokawa Akane began answering every one of his questions seriously.
Nowadays, there were even times when Kurokawa Akane initiated conversations.
Occasionally, the two would sit at the desk or beside the bed, chatting casually like familiar acquaintances.
Yukima Azuma would sometimes compliment Kurokawa Akane's cooking, while Kurokawa Akane occasionally shared details from light novels.
Just observing how they coexisted, one wouldn't think there was anything unusual about their relationship.
The skies outside were becoming clearer, with sunny periods gradually increasing.
The storm's impact was fading.
"LoveforReal" had temporarily suspended filming due to the storm, and no specific date for resumption had been announced.
Part of the reason was Kurokawa Akane.
Even though she had signed a contract with the production team, if she declared her withdrawal now, it was unlikely anyone on the team would object.
After all, Kurokawa Akane had once considered suicide due to the program's pressures.
She was still just a high school girl 17 yo, not even an adult.
Fortunately, the storm had postponed the program. Otherwise, it was hard to imagine what kind of chaos might have ensued.
In this room that felt isolated from the outside world, Yukima Azuma stared at the computer screen, where a document had just been completed.
He still felt something was missing.
A faint sense of emptiness seemed to linger between the lines.
Even though he had filled the draft with information about Kurokawa Akane from his memories of his previous life, it still felt incomplete.
After pondering for a moment, Yukima Azuma tilted his head to the side.
Noticing his gaze, Kurokawa Akane, who was sitting nearby reading a light novel, turned her head and met his eyes.
"What's wrong? Are you thirsty?"
She asked, her voice clear like the chime of silver bells.
"No, I just wanted to askdo you have a habit of keeping a diary?"
The question came without warning, but Kurokawa Akane responded almost immediately:
"Yes, I think I've been doing it since I was seven."
Hearing this, Yukima Azuma clicked his tongue lightly.
Since she was seven years old?
That made it a full ten years now.
What an admirable and persistent habit.
"Can I take a look at those diaries?"
Yukima Azuma asked.
Only after the words left his mouth did he realize how abrupt his request was.
Sure enough, Kurokawa Akane lowered her head slightly, seemingly lost in thought.
Even as a "guardian," there was no justification for handing over one's personal diary to a "child."
Moreover, given Kurokawa Akane's current psychological state, revisiting old memories might only cause her pain.
Realizing his request might have been inappropriate, Yukima Azuma was about to change the subject.
But at that moment
"Sure. It's just that retrieving them might be a bit of a hassle. We'd have to go back to my house. Is that okay with you?"
Hearing this, Yukima Azuma could only smile wryly.
Go back to her house?
He had a strange feeling that once the lease for this vacation house ended, Kurokawa Akane would take him to her home and continue caring for him like a single mother raising her child.
The thought was both amusing and slightly bitter.
"No problem."
And so, after many days living like hikikomori, the two finally stepped outside the room.
....
After the prolonged heavy rain, the streets carried the faint scent of damp earth.
A fragrance that was neither pleasant nor unpleasantjust the distinct aroma that followed a storm.
Tokyo's drainage system was efficient; only a few small puddles remained scattered on the streets, with no severe flooding in sight.
Yukima Azuma let Kurokawa Akane hold his hand as they walked closely along the inner side of the pedestrian lane.
He looked down at her feet.
Kurokawa Akane was wearing short white socks paired with sandals that had ankle straps.
The day she ran away, she hadn't worn shoes.
Fortunately, there were no sharp stones along the way to injure her feet.
The shoes she wore now were ones Yukima Azuma had chosen and ordered online.
Since receiving them, there hadn't been a chance to try them on.
Now that she was wearing them, they fit perfectly.
With each step she took, the straps around her ankles tightened and loosened slightly.
The heels weren't very high, making the sandals comfortable for walking.
Kurokawa Akane noticed Yukima Azuma's gaze fixed on her feet.
Normally, such attention would make anyone feel self-conscious.
But she only wondered what he was noticing.
Did he like her feet? Or was there something else?
Could he be thinking about something negative again?
Gripping Yukima Azuma's hand, Kurokawa Akane unconsciously tightened her hold.
The outside world was dangerous.
Speeding cars, rushing rivers, and imposing wallseverything required extra caution.
The two continued walking until they reached the Kurokawa residence.
When they knocked on the door, Mrs. Kurokawa opened it quickly.
Seeing her daughter and the boy standing outside, Mrs. Kurokawa looked momentarily surprised, followed by overwhelming joy.
She embraced her daughter and then turned a grateful gaze toward the boy.
Kurokawa Akane stepped in front of her mother, shielding Yukima Azuma from her view.
Mrs. Kurokawa seemed puzzled but didn't press further.
She simply asked if her daughter wanted to have dinner at home.
Kurokawa Akane looked at Yukima Azuma.
Yukima Azuma nodded.
Only then did she nod back.
It was at this point that Mrs. Kurokawa sensed something was amiss.
But she merely led them inside, preparing house slippers for them.
Afterward, she glanced at her daughter, who was now pulling the boy toward her room.
Kurokawa Akane's room was devoid of femininity.
One side of the room housed an enormous bookshelf filled with booksmostly specialized texts, primarily focused on the entertainment industry.
There were no posters on the walls, only sticky notes.
These notes contained training goals, script analyses, and character development ideas.
The desk was cluttered with papers and stationery, though a large portion of it was clearedlikely where her computer would usually sit.
A full-length mirror was mounted on the wardrobe, next to which lay a rolled-up yoga mat.
Calling it a bedroom felt inaccurateit was more like a multifunctional workspace.
The only place to rest was a small single bed, entirely devoid of decoration.
Kurokawa Akane guided Yukima Azuma to sit on the bed.
Then, she went to a cabinet beneath the desk and began searching.
Yukima Azuma looked around the room, almost able to picture Kurokawa Akane's daily life.
Was she too hard on herself?
Perhaps not.
It wasn't harshnessit was simply determination.
Kurokawa Akane, often labeled a prodigy in the entertainment industry, actually knew nothing beyond acting.
The truth behind her so-called talent lay not only in her innate understanding but also in her relentless effort over an extended period.
In the days they had spent sleeping together, with her in his arms, Yukima Azuma had noticed something.
Kurokawa Akane's body was incredibly flexiblebeyond his imagination.
Though not trained in ballet, she could execute movements that professional dancers found challenging.
Her slender, toned legs could easily stretch to a full 180 degrees.
To achieve such flexibility, one could only imagine how much pain and hardship she had endured.
A minute of performance on stage equates to ten years of practice behind the scenesa principle that never changes.
Observing the objects in the room, Yukima Azuma suddenly realized why the novel he was writing still felt lacking.
