Feeling Saori's substantial presence as she embraced him—her arms wrapped around him like she was afraid he'd disappear—and hearing her declarative, heartfelt words, Shiratori Seiya couldn't help but feel a profound sense of relief wash over him.
He could accept Saori pursuing kendo further, seeking a master to refine her technique, or learning other styles of swordsmanship out of pure interest or genuine ambition. That would be natural, even admirable.
But he absolutely could not accept Saori compromising herself—sacrificing her own happiness and passion—just to earn money for him. The very thought made his stomach churn with something between anger and anguish.
For Shiratori Seiya, this was tantamount to having the word 'incompetent' branded on his forehead for all to see. It would mean that despite all his efforts, all his planning, all his carefully accumulated resources, he still couldn't protect the people he cared about from the harsh realities of the world.
Shiratori Seiya had never been one to show off or prove anything in front of others. Even in the competitive environment of high school, people only knew him as Hojo Shione's boyfriend, assuming he was merely lucky to be dating such a talented, beautiful star. They were completely unaware that he could write songs—that he was the mysterious "A-Sensei" behind some of the biggest hits. He detested ostentatious peacocks who strutted around demanding attention. He preferred to be a hidden hawk, watching from above, striking only when necessary.
Today's incident with Saori had struck a nerve, hitting his absolute bottom line—the one boundary he couldn't let anyone cross.
That's why he was willing to directly show Saori his bank card balance, something he'd never done with anyone before. All to alleviate a bit of her insecurity and self-doubt, to prove that she didn't need to worry about money, that he had things under control.
If Yokoyama Miyu hadn't told him about Saori's security guard plan, he would never have imagined that someone with Saori's pure and somewhat naive personality—someone who seemed so content and untroubled—would be thinking about buying him an apartment in Tokyo.
Beyond the shock, there was more heartache.
If possible, he still hoped Saori could remain innocent—that she could stay that pure, untainted girl who smiled at the world without fear. But now it seemed his thoughts were a bit too naive. The world had a way of creeping in, no matter how hard you tried to shield someone.
Yokoyama Miyu looked at the two embracing, her eyes filled with genuine shock. She had never seen such intense emotions from Saori before—not once in all the time they'd known each other. Since meeting Saori, her impression of her had always been that of a natural airhead, someone who floated through life with a perpetual blank expression and an appetite that defied logic.
So this was the so-called 'power of love'?
She couldn't help but feel a touch of melancholy for a moment—a quiet ache for the innocence that was slowly slipping away. But then, thinking of Saori rejecting Oda Ryoshu because of Shiratori Seiya, her brow furrowed involuntarily.
Yokoyama Miyu felt that, regardless of Shiratori Seiya's feelings, Saori should not reject the olive branch being extended to her. This was a genuine opportunity—a once-in-a-lifetime chance to secure her future. Even if Shiratori Seiya was sincere now, the money was still in his hands, not Saori's. Not to mention he already had two girlfriends—what if he changed his mind later? What would Saori do then?
Opportunity knocks but once. In this society, who among the working class isn't wronged? Isn't working part-time a hardship? Isn't being a security guard a hardship?
Therefore, in her view, Shiratori Seiya was simply selfish. For his own desires, he was disregarding Saori's future. He was using the high-sounding, noble excuse of 'not wanting Saori to compromise herself' to keep her by his side, making her unable to leave him, trapping her in a cage of his making.
Yokoyama Miyu opened her mouth, wanting to say something more—to argue, to persuade, to make him see reason—but seeing Saori's love-struck expression, that blissful, utterly devoted look, she ultimately closed it.
Nothing she said now would make a difference. Not while Saori was looking at him like that.
However, she was quite surprised by Saori's earlier statement, 'I only want to be Seiya's disciple.'
Was it him who taught Saori kendo?
She felt deeply skeptical, but then, seeing him casually show Saori his bank balance on his phone with such confidence, she realized he really wasn't simple. Although she didn't see the exact number, the thought of his other beautiful girlfriend made her realize he must have quite a lot of money—far more than the average university student.
She just hoped the two of them could truly walk down the aisle one day. For Saori's sake.
With that thought, Yokoyama Miyu snapped back to reality, looking at the two still embracing in the middle of the aisle. She couldn't help but purse her lips. Noticing that everyone's attention was now on them—some smiling, some whispering, some openly watching like it was entertainment—she said:
"You two... have you hugged enough? The competition is still going on, you know. Even if you're being affectionate, you should at least pay attention to the setting, right? The instructor will be back soon and will scold you again..."
Hearing Yokoyama Miyu's helpless, slightly exasperated tone, Saori immediately came back to her senses. Her pretty face flushed a deep shade of red, and her moist eyes cautiously glanced at Shiratori Seiya, as if seeking reassurance.
This was the women's competition area. At this moment, seeing the two's dramatic, melodramatic exchange, a group of girls had gossipy expressions on their faces. They were smiling and whispering among themselves like a flock of excited sparrows.
Feeling the gazes from those around her—all those curious, amused eyes—Saori, uncharacteristically, showed an embarrassed expression. Like a shy newlywed bride caught in an intimate moment, she tugged at Shiratori's sleeve and whispered:
"Seiya, let's go somewhere else. This place doesn't seem... quite right..."
Shiratori Seiya, however, was completely indifferent. Let alone being stared at by a dozen people—even if his face was projected onto the center of the arena right now, he wouldn't care. But seeing Saori's usually cool and pale face almost completely red—like a tomato or a startled cat—he readily nodded.
Seeing Shiratori Seiya agree, Saori couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She pursed her red lips and looked pitifully at Yokoyama Miyu, saying:
"Minister..."
"Go, go."
Adopting an 'out of sight, out of mind' attitude, Yokoyama Miyu waved her hand dismissively:
"Don't leave the arena, though. This match will be over soon, and the instructor will call names then. Oh, what's your new phone number? I'll add your contact info so I don't lose you again..."
After exchanging contact information, Saori stood up, ready to leave, when Yokoyama Miyu suddenly called out to her:
"Wait a moment..."
"What's wrong?"
Standing beside Shiratori Seiya, Saori turned her head, her eyes—still bloodshot from crying—showing a look of genuine confusion.
Yokoyama Miyu moved her lips, as if struggling to find the right words, and finally asked:
"Are you really sure? Aren't you going to reconsider at all?"
Upon hearing this, Saori's face broke into a bright, radiant smile—the kind that could light up a dark room:
"Saori only listens to Seiya."
Looking at the girl's determined, unwavering eyes, Yokoyama Miyu sighed deeply:
"Alright then. I'll tell Instructor Igawa that."
"Thank you, Minister."
"..."
Leaving Area C, the two arrived at an unoccupied area near the arena exit—a quiet corner away from the noise and crowds. Shiratori Seiya held out a pastry to Saori, watching her eat it bite by bite, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk. For a moment, he couldn't help but feel like he was feeding a very cute, very hungry pet.
"Seiya, aren't you eating?"
After eating two small cakes, Saori seemed to remember something—as if the thought had just occurred to her—and asked Shiratori Seiya:
"Seiya, have you eaten? Do you want to eat together?"
"I've eaten. These are specifically for Saori."
Hearing him say that, Saori seemed much more at ease. She giggled foolishly, then lowered her head and opened her red lips to bite into the pastry he was holding.
She didn't seem to control herself well, and her teeth accidentally bit down on Shiratori Seiya's finger, leaving a shallow tooth mark on his index finger—a tiny red crescent.
Shiratori Seiya instinctively frowned, rubbing the mark Saori had left on his finger. He couldn't help but recall the time Shione had bitten him—that sharp, deliberate sting—and for a moment, his left shoulder also seemed to ache with a ghost of that memory.
"I'm sorry."
Saori reacted quickly, her eyes widening in concern. She grabbed his arm with both hands, lowered her head, and her rosy lips gently closed around the young man's index finger.
A familiar warmth and dampness immediately spread across his finger, followed by a soft, slippery, jelly-like sensation as her small tongue swirled gently on the pad of his finger.