Haruto stepped into the grand Tachibana residence, his bag slung over his shoulder. The air was different here—heavier, almost electric, buzzing with the presence of authority and invisible expectations. His heart raced. The thought of living under one roof with Aoi Kanzaki, now his fiancée, made his stomach twist.
He spotted her immediately. She was standing in the living room, hands on her hips, hair perfectly in place as always. Her eyes glinted with amusement—or perhaps challenge. He couldn't tell which, and the uncertainty made him uneasy.
"Welcome home, husband," she said, voice dripping with mock sweetness.
Haruto narrowed his eyes. "You're way too comfortable with this."
"Comfortable?" she raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. "I'm just making sure you understand the rules before we begin."
Rules.
He froze.
She stepped closer, circling him like a predator inspecting prey. "Rule number one: You will address me as 'Mistress Kanzaki' when I demand it."
Haruto blinked. "…You're joking."
She shook her head. "Never. Rule number two: You do the dishes. Rule number three: You may not go to bed before I do. Rule number four…"
She paused dramatically, grinning. "…You will not, under any circumstances, ignore me. Even if you want to."
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Rule number four alone was enough to make his chest tighten.
Aoi's smirk widened. "Rule five: You will always—ALWAYS—respond when I call you. Understood?"
"Yes," he said automatically, though his brain screamed that the list could go on forever.
A soft cough drew their attention.
The two housekeepers bowed politely. "Sir, Miss, we are ready to assist you," one of them said. Their calm, obedient demeanor contrasted sharply with the chaotic tension between Haruto and Aoi.
Haruto glanced at Aoi, who rolled her eyes dramatically. "See? You're not the only one who has rules to follow," she said, leaning closer. "They answer to me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Great. Now I have two people bossing me around."
Aoi leaned back, laughing. "Correction: one person. The other is just here to serve."
He groaned.
The first evening passed in awkward silence.
Dinner was served at precisely seven o'clock. Haruto tried to make small talk, but every time he opened his mouth, Aoi cut him off—either with a sarcastic remark, a pointed question, or just a look that made him feel like a foolish child.
"Do you always eat like that?" she asked, watching him chew.
Haruto paused mid-bite. "Like what?"
"Like you've never seen food before," she said, leaning back with a self-satisfied grin.
He coughed, trying not to choke.
The maids exchanged glances, hiding their amusement behind polite smiles.
He glared at Aoi. "Is this your idea of a welcome dinner?"
"Absolutely," she said, nodding. "And rule number six: You will answer all questions honestly. Even if the truth embarrasses you."
Haruto rubbed his temple. This is going to be a nightmare.
Later, he attempted to relax in the living room, thinking he could escape her.
But Aoi had other plans. She perched herself on the couch, arms crossed, legs stretched out like she owned the place—which, technically, she now did.
"Do you realize this is your first night living under my supervision?" she asked. "You should feel honored."
"Right… honored," Haruto muttered. He tried to settle into the armchair opposite her, but she leaned forward, smirking.
"Don't think you can ignore me," she said. "I'll notice. I always notice."
He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. This is going to be worse than kendo practice.
Aoi leaned closer. "Rule number seven: Any attempt to avoid eye contact will be punished."
Haruto blinked. "Punished? How?"
Her grin widened. "That's for me to decide."
As the evening dragged on, small moments of tension became unbearable.
He tried to read a book, and she deliberately tapped the table whenever he lifted it.
He tried to stretch on the sofa, and she mocked his posture from across the room.
He tried to speak, and she interrupted with a sly comment that left him flustered.
The maids whispered quietly in the background, trying not to laugh outright.
By the time he excused himself to go to his room, Haruto felt utterly defeated—but strangely alive.
She's… impossible.
And yet, somewhere deep down, he couldn't help but smile at her antics.
Aoi's presence was overwhelming. Dominating. Infuriating.
But it was also… compelling.