After putting a bit of distance between myself and Hinata, I tried to subtly glance at Mizuki, silently mouthing "Let's talk later." Unfortunately, my facial muscles had atrophied from years of social inactivity, so I ended up contorting my face like a malfunctioning Snapchat filter.
Once I saw Hinata heading toward the subway station, I felt a wave of relief. Mizuki, on the other hand, was storming toward me like a tiny typhoon, angrily flipping her twin ponytails. The disapproval in her eyes was intense enough to summon thunderclouds over my head.
When she finally reached me, her first sentence didn't disappoint.
"Why are you making that weird face? Do you have a problem? Are we doing something shameful or what?"
Under that barrage of questions, I felt like an egolifter who just crushed himself under a barbell.
"No, no! It's not about shame," I said quickly. "I just thought about your reputation at school. Me inheriting something doesn't change who I am, right? I mean, you don't want anyone to get the wrong idea."
I stomped on my own dignity like it was an insect, but hey, better that than giving Mizuki new gossip ammo.
She squinted at me for a moment, then mumbled,
"I… should be embarrassed, no one should…"
"Sorry? Couldn't hear you."
"No need to hear it. Honestly, the fact that you do hear so well is already a problem."
"So what you're trying to say is…?" I asked, raising my brows—pretty sure I was forming a question mark with my face muscles.
"Anyway, getting to the point," she said sharply, "the real issue is—ugh, I'm just jumping in—some of the people who've been following us lately are apparently connected to my dad. At least the ones from the other day."
She was talking about my unofficial 'trainers'—the guys who kept me in top shape ever since I inherited the estate. My mind had become a fortress built from bricks of absurdity just to stay sane.
"Oh, then please thank your dad for only sending some of his men after me," I said. "Give me his number—I'll call him. Maybe send flowers."
"Are you joking right now, Takashi?" she snapped. "I had to eavesdrop on my own father to tell you this! I crouched under a table for hours. My legs still haven't forgiven me."
"I'm not joking. I'm sorry about your legs, but this sounds serious. Why exactly is your dad after me?"
"From what I heard—though it wasn't much—he's not happy that you got the inheritance. He wants someone else to have it. He's… working on that."
The moment Mizuki finished speaking, a voice echoed in my mind:
"Now the real game begins."