After lunch, Rika Kawasaki didn’t take Kaoru Hoshitani home as he’d hoped, nor did she drag him off to some dangerous place like a hotel as he’d feared.
She took his hand again with that same unyielding grip, leaving behind the high-end restaurant that overlooked Ginza.
The afternoon sun was still blazing, the streets thick with people.
They rode the elevator back down to street level.
Rika Kawasaki slipped her arm around Kaoru Hoshitani’s waist, guiding him along as they walked a short distance, entering a Shopping and Entertainment Complex at the heart of Ginza.
Without pause, she led him straight to the Movie Theater area on the upper-middle floors.
Seeing the brightly lit lobby, giant Posters hanging overhead, the air filled with the sugary scent of Popcorn, the last trace of luck in Kaoru Hoshitani’s heart was crushed.
He was almost one hundred percent certain: this woman was shamelessly, single-handedly carrying out a “date”—and going through the entire routine from start to finish!
Shopping, eating, watching a movie…
Every standard item in an ordinary couple’s date, she checked off one by one, forcing each on him.
The realization struck him as absurd beyond measure, yet he was powerless to resist. He could only be led along like a puppet, strings firmly in her hands.
It was obvious that Rika Kawasaki hadn’t made any plans for what to watch.
She stood before the giant electronic schedule, tilting her head slightly as she scanned row upon row of film titles, runtimes, and showtimes. There was a casual look in her gray eyes.
Then, turning her head, she glanced at Kaoru Hoshitani, half-held in her arms, head lowered and wishing he could shrink into himself. She nodded her chin at the screen:
“Pick one. Which do you want to see?”
Kaoru Hoshitani didn’t want to watch a movie with her at all.
For him, being stuck in a dark, enclosed Projection Room with this woman for nearly two hours was torture in itself.
He barely lifted his head, his eyes skimming the colorful Posters without focus—he just wanted this part to end as quickly as possible.
So he casually pointed at one of the Posters. The art style looked light and cute, apparently an animated movie, titled 《I Want to Eat Your XX》.
Judging by the Poster and the title, it seemed normal enough, at least not a horror or adult film—probably nothing too awkward or uncomfortable.
His voice was barely more than a whisper.
Rika Kawasaki followed his gesture, offered no objections, and walked to the ticket machine to buy tickets.
Then she went to the concession stand to buy a giant tub of golden caramel Popcorn and two cups of iced Coke.
One arm balanced the Popcorn tub and the drinks with practiced ease.
With the other, as if she’d done it countless times, she naturally took Kaoru Hoshitani’s cool hand and, moving with the crowd, led him into the dimly lit Projection Room.
The Projection Room was packed, mostly with young couples or groups of friends.
The lights dimmed, the big screen flared to life, and the film began.
At first, Kaoru Hoshitani tried his best to stay guarded and distant, sitting stiffly and staring straight ahead, forcing himself to immerse in the movie and ignore the woman beside him.
Rika Kawasaki didn’t do anything out of line. Every so often she’d nudge the Popcorn closer, or, when he was moved by the story, bring the straw of the Coke to his lips for a sip.
Yet as the film went on, what had seemed like a simple animated movie unfolded into a story about life, death, companionship, and farewell.
Genuine emotions, delicate portrayals, moving music, and in the end, an unavoidable, regret-filled conclusion…
All of it struck directly at the softest part of Kaoru Hoshitani’s heart.
Before he realized it, his eyes began to sting and grow hot, and without warning, tears spilled down his pale cheeks.
At first he tried to suppress it, swiping at his face with the back of his hand.
But the sorrow surged like a flood; soon he couldn’t control his soft sobs, his thin shoulders shaking faintly in the dim light.
Just then, an arm reached over and gently pulled him into a warm embrace.
Rika Kawasaki didn’t say anything comforting, only patted his back with an unexpectedly gentle touch.
Her chin rested on the crown of his head, feeling his warm tears soak into the fabric over her chest.
After a while, she lowered her head and softly kissed away the tears at the corner of his eyes—a rare, almost tender gentleness in her movements.
Kaoru Hoshitani, lost in his sadness and a sudden helplessness, didn’t even resist for a moment.
Instead, he unconsciously nestled a little deeper into the familiar embrace, as if seeking a temporary haven from the world.
When the film finally ended, the lights came up, and the audience began to file out, Kaoru Hoshitani’s emotions slowly calmed.
He realized he’d been half-hugged and half-carried by Rika Kawasaki out of the Projection Room, through the bustling crowd, all the way back into the passenger seat of the Blue Sports Car before he fully regained his senses.
The light inside the car was dim, the dashboard casting a cool blue glow.
Kaoru Hoshitani kept his head low, his eyes red and swollen from crying, even the tip of his nose flushed pink.
His voice was hoarse and dry after all that crying.
“…Where are we going now?”
He asked in a small voice, still not daring to look at the woman beside him.
Just thinking of how he’d lost control in the theater, even crying in this woman’s arms, left him mortified and inexplicably anxious.
He was twenty years old and had sobbed his heart out over an animated movie—what a disgrace…
Who would have thought a twenty-year-old could cry so hard over a film, to the point that even this blonde woman didn’t push him away…
Rika Kawasaki didn’t answer right away. She turned sideways, resting her elbow on the window, taking her time to look at the small man on the passenger side, his head hanging low.
In the gloom, the dark red hickey on his neck was still clearly visible.
Her gaze lingered there for several seconds before she finally spoke, her voice laced with a subtle, barely noticeable smile:
“Where to next? If we follow the standard dating routine—we’ve shopped, eaten, seen a movie, so what comes after that…?”
Kaoru Hoshitani’s ears turned crimson in an instant. His fingers clenched the seat leather in a panic as he stammered,
“Take me home!”
But to his surprise, after hearing his tearful and desperate request, Rika Kawasaki didn’t press him with any of her usual tactics, nor did she mock him.
She only turned her head. In the dim car light, her gray eyes lingered a moment on his tear-streaked face, unreadable.
Then, she actually agreed. Simply, even decisively:
“Alright.”
She faced forward again, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, her voice unreadable.
“Let’s go home then.”
“……”
Kaoru Hoshitani froze, forgetting to cry. He just stared, those deer-like eyes still brimming with tears, wide and disbelieving at her sharp profile.
His heart, which had been pounding wildly with fear and despair, seemed to pause at this unexpectedly easy promise, only to be replaced by an even deeper, tangled unease and confusion.
He’d already prepared himself for the worst, convinced there was no way he’d escape being dragged by this blonde devil to a hotel or somewhere worse for some “punishment.”
He’d imagined countless tragic outcomes, all his resistance surely doomed to fail.
But against all expectation, Rika Kawasaki responded with such abnormal, even “merciful” calm.
Yet this suspicious smoothness didn’t make him feel the least bit relieved. Instead, it was like stepping on seemingly solid ice with a hidden abyss beneath—cold dread and wariness instantly seized him.
If something’s off, there must be a catch. How could this demon of a woman let him go so easily?
But what could he do?
Question her? Resist? Demand she swear an oath?
He knew it was pointless, maybe even dangerous.
Like a mouse caught in a cat’s paw—spared for the moment, but with no hope of escape—he could only shrink into the passenger seat, that secure-feeling leather now a prison, trying to make himself as small as possible, hoping to disappear.
He turned his head, unfocused eyes watching as the bright city lights outside the window faded, giving way to the dimmer streets of a residential area.
Every unfamiliar building, tree, and lamp post outside seemed shrouded in foreboding shadows.
He could only shut his eyes tightly, nearly praying in silence that the end of this road would be his familiar little apartment, where Aina waited—his only safe haven.
But twenty minutes later, when the car’s low engine rumble finally quieted and stopped, what Kaoru Hoshitani saw through the window was nothing like his apartment—not even any residential area he recognized.
The car had entered a Luxury Villa District, tranquil and perfectly organized.
Wide roads lined with neatly trimmed hedges and rare trees, vintage-style lamps casting a soft yellow glow that outlined one unique, opulent villa after another—each exuding luxury and privacy.
Even the air seemed stiller, filled with a scent of greenery and money.
Rika Kawasaki drove the conspicuous Blue Sports Car through the quiet, maze-like roads, finally stopping smoothly in front of a villa with a modern façade of dark gray stone and glass.
The garden out front was meticulously maintained.
Several ground lights outlined the path and greenery, the entire building looking like a dormant, sleek, and icy beast in the night.
The engine went silent, leaving the cabin in utter stillness, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning.
“All right. Get out.”
Rika Kawasaki unbuckled her seatbelt with a soft “click,” the sound extra clear in the silence.
She turned to look at the man in the passenger seat, who seemed to have turned to stone.
The corners of her lips curled up into a malicious, controlling smile, her gray eyes glinting in the darkness like a predator savoring its catch.