The air conditioning in the Shinkansen car was cranked up high, cold air pouring down from the overhead vents, making the back of You’s head feel chilled.
He carried his bag, sidestepping through the narrow aisle, glancing between the ticket in his hand and the seat numbers above. The car was packed—people scrolling on their phones, others dozing off, a child sitting on their mother’s lap with feet dangling, swinging back and forth.
“Row three, seat D… Row three, seat D…”
You muttered, his eyes sweeping across the seat number placards attached to the carriage wall.
The ticket had been bought in too much of a hurry.
They’d only decided to head back to Tokyo yesterday afternoon. All five of them had rushed to the ticket window at Hakone-Yumoto Station, only to find the next available Shinkansen had just a few scattered seats left. Forget sitting together—they couldn’t even get in the same car. Chihaya made the call on the spot: You sat alone, and the four of them took another car.
You’d tried to argue at the time.
“How about I just squeeze in with you guys?”
Chihaya gave him a look. The meaning in her eyes was clear: ‘What do you think?’
You didn’t say another word.
Now that he thought about it, Chihaya probably wasn’t just concerned about the seats. She hadn’t brought up what happened with Mai last night, but she was definitely still thinking about it. Having him sit alone was probably her way of giving herself some space—and giving him some too.
“Ah, found it.”
You stopped in front of a window seat, looked up at the number—row three, seat D. Correct.
He lowered his head to sit down, then froze.
His seatmate was already there. A strikingly beautiful young woman.
Black hair draped over her shoulders, the ends slightly curled. She wore a dark gray knit cardigan over a white top, paired with black trousers. The overall look was sharp and composed.
Her skin was pale—not Chihaya’s cool, translucent white, but something denser, like fine white porcelain. Her features were delicate, with a seductive quality to the lines: upturned eye corners, full lips—everything screamed “alluring.” But the icy expression on her face completely shattered that charm, turning it into something cold and beautiful.
What drew the eye most was her eyes.
Red.
Not a dull red, but a deep, wine-like crimson. The irises gleamed with a faint, dark light—captivating.
And—
You’s gaze unconsciously drifted downward.
Her chest was… substantial. The dark gray knit cardigan was stretched into obvious curves, the buttons looking like they were struggling a bit.
Wait.
Red eyes, large chest, cold beauty, a don’t-come-near-me aura.
Wasn’t this the front desk attendant from the Snow-Reflecting Pavilion about a week ago—the one he’d seen at a glance but never learned her real name?
You opened his mouth and instinctively greeted her.
“Hello—”
Tsuchimikado Akane was staring out the window.
The scenery outside rushed past in reverse—mountains, trees, utility poles, flashing by frame by frame. Her gaze was unfocused, her mind working through Curse Art constructs.
Then she heard a voice beside her.
“Hello—”
Akane’s thoughts pulled out of their calculations. She turned her head.
A face appeared before her. Kind of handsome—wait, it looked familiar.
Her pupils contracted sharply.
She’d seen this face before.
A week ago, at the Snow-Reflecting Pavilion front desk. One man, four women. The Moon Residence suite. The most expensive one.
That playboy.
Akane’s expression didn’t change at all. Her gaze swept over his face without lingering, then coldly turned away.
You’s hand was still raised midair, frozen in a greeting pose.
He felt embarrassment rise from the soles of his feet, crawl up his spine, and settle on his face.
He rubbed his head, shoved his suitcase into the overhead rack, and sat down in the aisle seat. He glanced sideways at the girl beside him—she’d already turned her face fully toward the window, leaving him only the back of her head and a sliver of pale neck.
Fine. She doesn’t want to talk to me.
He lowered his head, found his seat, and squeezed in. The gap between seats wasn’t wide; when he sat down, his knee nearly brushed the girl’s leg. He quickly scooted toward the window, pressing himself against the car wall.
Fine, we won’t talk. It’s only a little over an hour anyway.
On the surface, Akane was perfectly composed.
She looked back out the window, maintaining her previous posture.
But inside, she was screaming.
Why? Why him again?
She’d deliberately avoided this trouble—left without even collecting her wages. A week had passed, and she thought it was over. Then today, she went to Hakone to pick up something she’d left behind, and on the way back, she ran into him.
What kind of cursed luck was this?
A dozen thoughts raced through her mind—should she switch seats? Should she stand in another car? Should she just get off and wait for the next train?
She quickly shot each one down.
Fine. I’ll endure it.
Just over an hour.
She decided that out of sight, out of mind. Outside the window, the mountains stretched in layers, green and shaded with different depths under the sunlight. She stared at them for a while, trying to focus on the scenery, but she couldn’t stop herself from remembering that first meeting—that scene at the inn’s front desk a week ago. One man, four women, booking the most expensive suite. The women orbiting around him, the atmosphere strangely harmonious.
Something felt off.
Wait. Last time she saw him, he’d had four girls with him. Four. Each one beautiful, and all different types—cool, cute, bright, gentle.
How was he alone this time?
Where were the four girls?
Akane’s brain started filling in the story automatically.
Could it be—he got bored that fast? Seduced and abandoned? Dumped them?
Akane’s gaze turned dangerous.
She turned her head and shot You a vicious glare. Like she was looking at a cockroach.
Then she let out a “hmph,” snapped her head back, and continued staring out the window.
She issued herself a firm order: ‘Do not speak to this scumbag. Not a single word.’
You was completely baffled by this girl’s performance.
What the hell?
The moment he’d walked up to the seat, she’d given him a cold stare, putting up a “stay away” front. She didn’t respond to his greeting, like she hadn’t even heard him. Fine, whatever. He wasn’t Fukuzawa Yukichi—he couldn’t expect everyone to like him.
But—first she turns away from him, then a moment later turns back to glare at him like he’s a cockroach—what was that about?
He hadn’t done anything wrong.
You racked his brain.
He replayed the encounter at the Snow-Reflecting Pavilion front desk a week ago. He hadn’t said anything wrong, had he? He’d just glanced at her—hadn’t even spoken to her. Futaba and Hitomi had handled the entire check-in. The only thing he’d done was silently complain about her service attitude.
Or maybe this Miss Tsuchimikado just naturally disliked everyone?
Forget it.
A woman’s heart is a needle at the bottom of the sea.
Especially a woman this beautiful—her thoughts were even harder to read. Can’t afford to offend her, so he’d just avoid her.
He adjusted his sitting position, zipped up his jacket, and prepared to enter sleep mode.
He closed his eyes. A little over an hour’s ride—he’d just sleep through it. She didn’t want to deal with him, and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself. Sit quietly, part ways when they reached Tokyo, and never see each other again.
The car grew quiet.
The air vent let out a faint hiss. Occasionally a train attendant pushed a cart by, wheels rumbling over the floor, approaching and fading. Passengers’ low murmurs blended together, indistinct—just a vague hum.
You kept his eyes closed, his breathing gradually steadying.
Akane watched the window, her gaze resting on the blurry mountain silhouettes in the distance. Her fingers tapped lightly on her knee, no rhythm, just an unconscious fidget.
The car was very quiet.
Only the rumbling of the train and the faint hiss of the air conditioning.
***
Chihaya stood at the car’s connecting corridor for a while.
She’d walked over from her own car. You was sitting alone over there, and she felt a bit uneasy. Not that she was afraid he’d get lost, but—
She couldn’t explain it.
She just wanted to check on him.
She crossed the connection, pushed open the door, and entered You’s car. Seats on both sides of the aisle were full—people on phones, people sleeping. She walked forward, counting seat numbers.
Row three.
Her gaze passed over a few passengers’ heads and landed on the aisle seat.
You had his eyes closed, head resting against the seat back, looking like he’d fallen asleep.
The corner of Chihaya’s mouth twitched up slightly.
She spoke.
“You-kun, I came to check on you—”
Her voice cut off abruptly.
Because she saw the person sitting beside You, in the window seat. A woman. A young woman. A very beautiful woman. A woman with large breasts and red eyes.
Chihaya’s expression went cold. She walked quickly to You’s side, lowered her voice, and asked directly,
“What is the Tsuchimikado family’s purpose in approaching You-kun?”