Kimurahama sat upright in his office chair, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips, the kind of smile that felt like a soft spring breeze.
He held a phone in his hand, speaking in a calm tone. When he noticed Koizumi entering the room, he set the phone aside and asked gently:
"Cai, what's the matter?"
"I… I'm sorry, Brother Kimura." Koizumi's voice came faintly through the camera feed, carrying the shy, hesitant cadence unique to young girls.
"I know it's wrong to disturb your rest at noon, but… but I have something important to say. I can only tell you alone. Please… please don't drive me away."
Shirakawa Natsu couldn't see Koizumi's expression through the video screen, but even so, he could clearly feel the affection and bashful sincerity hidden in her voice.
Either her status was unusually high, or there was a genuine truth in her words.
Natsu found himself curious—how would Kimurahama respond to such a confession?
"Do you really think I'd drive you away for saying something like that?" Kimurahama chuckled softly, shaking his head. "So in your eyes, am I really such a cold-hearted man?"
He rose to his feet, his tone gentle as ever. "I've watched you grow up, Cai. You're like a younger sister to me. If you have troubles, come inside. You can tell me anything."
The camera jolted slightly as Koizumi moved closer.
"Just a sister?" she whispered, stepping toward him. "But that's not how I see Brother Kimura."
"Brother Kimura is always in my mind—your voice, your words… everything about you fills my heart. Every night, I fall asleep looking at your picture. I… I can't hold these feelings back anymore."
Her breathing trembled. "Am I… already broken?"
Kimurahama listened quietly without interrupting, his smile unwavering as he waited for her to finish. Then, with a small adjustment of his glasses, he spoke slowly:
"Human love is rooted in desire, with pleasure as its weapon. Along the way, people create sweet and warm fantasies. Cai, there's no need to torment yourself over this. What you feel is only natural. But it would be healthier for you to meet more people your own age—"
"No!" Koizumi suddenly raised her voice. In just a few quick steps, she closed the distance and threw her arms around him. "I don't want to think anymore. Please… please let me be Brother Kimura's dog!"
Kimurahama neither pushed her away nor embraced her back. He simply stood there, waiting for her words to end, and then answered with calm composure:
"People praise love only because it ensures the continuation of the human race. That's all. Don't sacrifice your most precious self to something as fleeting as an illusion."
But Koizumi wasn't listening anymore. She clutched at his suit collar, tugging with trembling hands until the fabric pulled apart.
A button popped free, exposing pale skin and the faint curve of his collarbone beneath his shirt.
Shirakawa Natsu instinctively turned his head aside. For an instant, the sight made his heart skip a beat. But then his gaze caught on Kimurahama's Adam's apple—reminding him sharply that this man was no woman.
"Is it me who's mistaken… or is it Kimurahama?"
In the end, it didn't matter. The fact remained: the moment Kimurahama didn't resist and let his shirt be torn open, the situation had already crossed a line.
Anyone witnessing such a scene would assume the worst—that Kimurahama had abandoned his duty as a teacher. Even if a student threw herself at him, the moment he failed to refuse, it became a crime of betrayal.
Natsu shook his head. He didn't want to see this outcome.
But then Koizumi's hands froze. The entire room fell into a heavy, unnatural silence.
Kimurahama raised the phone he had set aside earlier. The screen revealed an active call—still connected.
The call timer showed it had been ongoing since before Koizumi had even entered the office.
The name on the display: Koizumi Taro.
The corner of Shirakawa Natsu's mouth twitched. He recognized that name—it was on the hospital's staff board at the main entrance.
The director of this hospital. Koizumi's father.
Ya Shikui silently shut off the video, unable to bear watching more, and the ward fell into silence.
"…I want to meet Kimurahama," Shirakawa Natsu finally broke the stillness. "As soon as possible."
Mizuki Shikui looked at him with suspicion before shaking her head. "I can't let you do anything illegal. Even if you tried to ambush him, you'd stand no chance in a fight."
Natsu's lips curved faintly. "Who said anything about fighting? I just want to reason with him. I want to make him give up on Hashimoto Arina."
Ya Shikui narrowed her eyes, leaning back against the wall. "And why do you think you can do something so far beyond your ability?"
"Don't look at me with that contemptuous expression!" Natsu snapped, waving a hand. "Just… try to arrange the meeting. If it doesn't work out, then forget it."
He didn't hold out much hope. After all, what normal person would agree to such an invitation?
But he had to try. Usually, Arina Hashimoto kept a close eye on him, never letting him hide his worries.
Today, though, she had taken leave for some reason. When they spoke that morning, she hesitated strangely, unable to explain why.
Natsu felt certain—she must have been hiding the truth to keep him from worrying.
That meant this was his only chance.
Kimurahama was a formidable opponent, and drawing close to him was like trying to climb into the heavens. But Natsu couldn't run from this. He had to seize every opportunity, no matter how small, to learn more.
Mizuki Shikui fell silent, studying him carefully before finally nodding. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."
"Agreed," Natsu said without hesitation.
He had assumed it would be nearly impossible to arrange a meeting. Yet when Ya Shikui stepped out to make a call, she returned shortly after and said:
"I've already set it up. We'll meet him at a tea house near Dongda University. Seven o'clock tonight."
Natsu blinked in disbelief. Childhood connections… could she actually be the daughter of some hidden consortium family?
"I just called him directly and said you wanted to see him," Mizuki admitted, pursing her lips. "Once I gave your name, he agreed immediately. He even suggested the location himself."
"Then why do you look disappointed?" Natsu frowned. Kimurahama's willingness to meet was already strange enough, but Ya Shikui's clear irritation made no sense.
"…This is troublesome," she muttered, rubbing her forehead with one hand. "I'll go with you tonight."
"Thank you," Natsu said sincerely. Despite opposing his engagement from the start, Mizuki Shikui had always stood by him—supporting him through things everyone else dismissed as nonsense.
She waved him off and began preparing clothes.
"Um…" Natsu hesitated before speaking again. The memory of Kimurahama's transformation—his striking appearance before and after—still lingered in his mind. "Could you help me with some makeup? Something simple, but with a noticeable effect. Like his."
By the time the sun was setting, the streets were crowded with students hurrying to and fro. The tea house near campus buzzed with business.
As Natsu and Shikui entered, many eyes turned toward a corner table.
A slim, clean-cut young man sat there, handsome in an understated way. But most gazes lingered not on him, but on the short-haired woman beside him—her cold, aloof beauty exuding the mysterious charm of a senior "sister" figure.
"Hey," Natsu whispered, teasing lightly, "could you not sit right next to me? You're stealing all the attention."
In the end, he hadn't asked Mizuki to help with makeup. His natural looks were already delicate and refined; any cosmetic touch-ups made him look artificial, even tacky.
He hadn't expected, though, that Ya Shikui herself would attract so much attention. Within minutes of sitting down, several fashionable college girls approached her table with bright smiles.
"Call me if anything happens," Mizuki said casually, standing up and moving over to sit among them.
Almost instantly, their table filled with laughter.
"What is with this world…" Natsu muttered. Even though she was a woman, she somehow drew more attention from girls than he ever could.
The entrance door swung open. Kimurahama stepped inside, still wearing his tailored casual suit. The button torn earlier by Koizumi had been neatly resewn.
His eyes scanned the room until they landed directly on Shirakawa Natsu. Without hesitation, he walked straight toward him.
"Hello, Mr. Shirakawa. My name is Kimurahama. Pleased to meet you."
"Please, sit," Natsu said politely. Kimurahama was twenty-six; he was only eighteen. They weren't of the same generation. Yet the way Kimurahama addressed him, as an equal, carried genuine respect.
Natsu couldn't help but think—even if he were an opponent, this was not a man easy to hate.
"Arina often mentions you," Kimurahama said with a smile. "When she was struggling, she found inspiration in your passion for manga. Thanks to you, she regained her spirit."
At last, Natsu understood why Arina Hashimoto always paid him such careful attention.
Back then, after he had crossed into this life, he'd poured himself into manga as an act of defiance against society. To her, it must have looked like resilience, a light in the darkness.
Hearing this, a sharp heat flared in his chest. "So what made Sister Arina depressed in the first place? Was it you?"
Kimurahama gave a faint, unflinching nod. "Yes. At the time, she suffered from mild depression. We spoke often on the phone, but her condition didn't improve. In fact… her spirit grew even more fragile."
"Damn you! Who pushed her that far?!" Natsu's voice broke into a furious roar. Rage surged through him like fire, and before he knew it, he had seized the glass of water from the table and splashed it directly at Kimurahama's face.
He had come to gather information, yet in just two sentences his self-control had shattered.
Blood pounded in his veins. His fist tightened, rising instinctively to strike.
Ya Shikui shifted in her seat nearby, watching tensely as every diner in the tea house turned toward them. The air thickened with sudden pressure.
Kimurahama didn't flinch. Water dripped from his face as he calmly removed his glasses and took out a white handkerchief from his pocket. Wiping his face, he put the glasses back on with the same composed demeanor.
"I apologize," he said softly, "if my words made you uncomfortable."
"You—!" Natsu's anger burned hotter. His sincerity was maddening—it left Natsu unable to tell whether Kimurahama was genuine or simply acting.
If Kimurahama had fought back, Natsu would have thrown himself into the fight, no matter the outcome.
But against such calm restraint, his raised hand could only fall uselessly back to his side.
Grinding his teeth, he demanded, "So what exactly do you want? You're already married—so why do you still cling to Sister Arina, making her suffer? Do you think you're worthy of your wife?"