One Month Later — Tokyo. Gossip moves faster than facts.
It began with whispers at high-society events:"Did you hear? The Hayama heir is betrothed.""Tachibana's daughter? Makes sense. That girl was bred for legacy.""They haven't even announced it officially. Are they hiding something?"
Then came the online murmurs.
Anonymous forums. Luxury fashion blogs. Subtle headlines from curated lifestyle magazines:
"Unconfirmed Sources Hint at Tachibana–Hayama Alliance: Tokyo's Most Powerful Families May Be Binding Ties"
The picture attached? A grainy shot of Renjiro and Aika entering the Tachibana estate weeks ago — never touching, never smiling, just walking side by side.
It was enough.
Even boardrooms began to hum. Investors from both family companies asked careful questions. Stockholders hinted at succession plans. PR divisions drafted "what-if" statements.
Yet neither family released an official comment.
Silence became a statement of its own.
Hayama Group — Executive Floor
Renjiro slammed the gossip magazine on his glass desk.
"This is a circus."
Across from him, Hiroto glanced down at the headline with mild amusement. "You're the one who went out in public with her."
"I didn't think I was being stalked by cameras," Renjiro growled.
"You're a Hayama. You're always being watched," Hiroto replied coolly.
Renjiro stood, pacing now, jaw clenched. "This is getting out of hand. My clients are asking questions. People think I'm hiding something. And it's all because she just… walks around like everything's fine!"
Hiroto raised a brow. "So now this is Aika's fault?"
Renjiro turned on him. "She just sits there — serene, polite, untouchable — and lets the world fill in the blanks. She should've said something. Cleared the air. Denied it."
"Or maybe she's just respecting the silence your own parents asked for."
Renjiro didn't answer.
Because Hiroto was right — Masaki and Eri Hayama had chosen not to confirm or deny the engagement. They called it "strategic timing."
But Renjiro didn't care about timing.
He cared that people were talking.
He hated being the subject of rumors. Hated being misunderstood. Hated the thought of being seen as someone Aika Tachibana had tamed.
Tachibana Estate — Early Morning
Aika sat on the engawa porch, sipping her tea. The sunlight hadn't yet reached the far wall of the garden, casting the flowers in long shadow.
Across from her sat her mother, Keiko Tachibana, perfectly composed in her pale kimono, her face gentle — but observant.
"You've seen the articles," Keiko said softly.
Aika nodded. "Yes."
"Your father and I decided not to respond. If the Hayamas want to keep quiet, we'll honor that. But I'm more concerned about you."
Aika set her cup down. "It doesn't bother me."
Keiko's eyes flickered with quiet knowing. "It hurts more when it's untrue, doesn't it?"
There was a pause. Then Aika looked up.
"People can think what they want. As long as they don't see what they shouldn't."
Her mother tilted her head. "Meaning?"
Aika drew a long breath, then said gently:
"I don't want anyone connecting my work with this engagement. Not yet. Not until things are clear. Let them think I'm just managing part of the family's hotel division. That I'm a director with a few title perks."
Keiko studied her daughter for a long moment. Then nodded. "You're protecting your brand."
"I'm protecting my team. My name. If they find out I'm A.T., they'll say I'm only successful because I'm engaged to Renjiro."
"And if the marriage does go through?"
Aika hesitated — just a heartbeat.
"Then I'll build something so strong they'll know I never needed his name to succeed."
Keiko smiled faintly. "You remind me of my mother."
Aika returned the smile, though her heart still carried the sting of that midnight message from Renjiro — etched like frost over warmth.
She hadn't responded. She wouldn't.
Not until he saw her not as a burden...but as the woman still choosing to stay beside him, even while he pushed her away.
Midtown Tokyo – Hayama Group HQ
The air in the boardroom was heavy with negotiation — but Renjiro thrived in it.
Three executives from a European logistics firm sat across the table, their translator nervously flipping through his notes. The discussion had been ongoing for three weeks — terms, routes, customs challenges.
And today, Renjiro closed it.
Clean. Sharp. With a revised partnership model that shaved costs by 14% and opened access to new Asian markets.
"We'll draw the initial contract draft by end of week," Renjiro said, his voice calm but direct. "And I'll personally oversee the integration team."
The oldest of the foreign executives, a Belgian magnate nodded with an impressed grin.
"You're not just your father's son, Mr. Hayama."
Renjiro's lips curved faintly. "No, I'm not."
As the room emptied with handshakes and nods, his phone buzzed — half a dozen alerts lighting up the screen.
News headlines. Social media. Business blogs.
And there it was — the headline he hadn't expected, but deeply wanted:
"Renjiro Hayama Steps Out of the Shadow: Younger Hayama Secures Landmark European Deal"— Nikkei Business Daily
He stared at the headline, chest rising slowly. For a brief moment, everything was still. This wasn't about Hiroto. This wasn't about Aika. This was his.
He sat down at his desk, scrolled through the praise.
"Sharp instincts.""The Hayama heir carving his own path.""Not just the second son anymore."
The phone buzzed again.
Hiroto [2:10 PM]
Nice close. You deserve the spotlight on this one.
Renjiro didn't respond right away. For the first time in weeks, he felt… respected. Not as the backup son. Not as the engagement hostage.
But as himself.
And yet…
His eyes drifted to another notification — a tabloid headline trying to link his recent success to "stability from the Tachibana engagement."
"Sources say Renjiro Hayama's growth signals strong synergy with his future partner, Aika Tachibana."— Japan Times Insider
The high he'd been riding dropped by degrees.
He stood suddenly, pacing his office.
"I earned that deal," he muttered to no one. "Not her. Not the family name."
The fact that people were already tying his achievements to a woman he couldn't even look at without clenching his jaw — that infuriated him.
The worst part?
He hadn't even told her about the deal.
He didn't want to.
He didn't want her smiling politely, acting like this was their shared victory. It wasn't. It was his.
That Evening — Hayama Penthouse
The city lights spread wide beyond his balcony, a glittering sprawl of power and hunger.
Renjiro nursed a glass of bourbon as his TV quietly played the business segment replaying his name over and over.
And yet, he wasn't satisfied.
His reflection in the window stared back at him — accomplished, respected… and angry.
Because no matter how many deals he closed, he was still the man they thought Aika made.
He raised his glass toward the skyline.
"You don't get to own my story, Aika," he muttered. "I'll make sure of it."
Tachibana Estate — Early Evening
The low clink of teacups echoed in the quiet formal sitting room.
On one side sat Tetsuro and Keiko Tachibana.On the other, Masaki and Eri Hayama.Between them, the scent of incense lingered faintly in the air — tradition, calm, power.
And at the center of it all, sitting with perfect posture, hands folded in her lap, was Aika.
She hadn't spoken much since the meeting began. She didn't need to. This wasn't her decision to make.
Not yet.
Masaki Hayama adjusted his cufflinks, then said in his measured baritone,
"It's been a month since the contract was agreed upon. Public interest is rising and We should set the formal engagement date."
Tetsuro nodded. "Agreed. It's time we take control of the narrative."
Keiko added gently, " The media will calm once there is clarity."
Eri Hayama smiled politely, though the faintest worry shadowed her eyes. "Renjiro, however, is still… temperamental."
"Where is he now?" Keiko asked, her tone light but sharp beneath the surface.
"Still at the main office," Masaki replied. "He closed the European logistics deal this morning. It's a major win — the press is treating him like a prodigy."
Keiko's smile was soft. "He always had the mind. It's the heart he resists."
Masaki let out a slow breath. "I thought the engagement might humble him. But instead, he's trying to prove he doesn't need it."
Aika stayed silent, her expression unreadable.
Eri turned toward her. "Aika… would you be comfortable proceeding with the engagement ceremony even if Renjiro remains… emotionally distant?"
There was a moment of stillness.
Then Aika bowed her head slightly.
"Yes. This is not about personal emotions. It's about legacy. I understand what's required."
Tetsuro placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder — gentle, proud.
Keiko added, "The ceremony will proceed next month. Kyoto. The ancestral home, as we agreed."
Masaki raised his cup. "Then it's settled."
Later That Night — Aika's Room
She stood by the window, watching the moon rise through the thin veil of clouds.
Her reflection stared back at her — calm, composed, every hair in place. But inside her chest, a quiet ache persisted.
He wasn't there.Not even a call.Not a word since that drunken message weeks ago.
She touched the window glass lightly.
"You weren't there… again."
Hayama Tower — Executive Office, Late Night
Renjiro was still in his chair, the office dark now except for the cold white light of his monitor and the afterglow of the headlines praising him.
He leaned back, rubbing his temples.
His phone buzzed.
[Message from Hiroto]
"They've set the engagement ceremony. Next month. Kyoto. You should've been there."
He stared at it.
Didn't reply.
Instead, he opened a new tab, typed Aika Tachibana — and saw nothing but stock photos and hospitality board articles.
Still the ghost in the story.
Still hiding.
And yet… the world kept pushing them closer.
He picked up his phone again — thumb hovering over her name.
Then set it down.
And turned back to the glowing screen.
Hayama Tower — Executive Office, 11:47 PM
The office was almost dark now, save for the low hum of the city outside the window and the dim desk lamp that painted Renjiro's features in cold gold.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the skyline but seeing nothing.
The announcement was set. The families had spoken. His silence no longer mattered.
He laughed quietly — bitterly — to himself.
"So this is what she wanted," he murmured. "To tie me down. To win the perfect title."
His reflection in the glass looked back — tired eyes, sharp suit, flawless mask.
He picked up his phone, scrolling through the article about the engagement date. Her name was there beside his, written with the same grace she carried in person.
Aika Tachibana.
Perfect. Untouchable. The family's pride. The heiress who always smiled.
He clenched his jaw.
"Fine," he whispered. "You want this marriage, Aika? You'll get it."
He stood and poured himself a drink, the amber liquid catching the light like fire.
"But I'll make sure you regret asking for it. I'll make you see that choosing me was your worst decision."
He raised the glass toward the window, almost like a toast — but his reflection didn't smile back.
Tachibana Estate — The Next Morning
A gentle knock echoed through Aika's office.
"Come in," she said, closing the folder she'd been reading.
The door opened and Suzu Hayama peeked in — sunlight catching her soft hair and the smile that always carried warmth. She was wearing her university jacket, looking fresh and full of energy that Aika couldn't help but envy.
"Suzu," Aika said, surprised. "You didn't tell me you were coming."
Suzu walked in, holding a small box tied with gold ribbon. "I thought you could use some company. And my mother said the engagement plans are starting, so… I wanted to see how you were holding up."
Aika smiled faintly. "I'm fine."
Suzu's brow furrowed. "You always say that."
She set the box down on the table — delicate pastries from Aika's favorite patisserie — and looked around the quiet office.
"You know, when I was little, I thought you and Renjiro were unstoppable together. He used to actually smile when you were around."
Aika's expression softened at the memory. "That was a long time ago."
Suzu tilted her head, studying her. "You still care about him, don't you?"
Aika looked away. "I care about the promise we made — not just to each other, but to our families."
Suzu sighed. "You sound just like my brother Hiroto when he's trying to make excuses for Renji."
Aika blinked. "Excuses?"
"Yeah," Suzu said softly. "He says Renji's just… lost. That he fights because he's scared of losing control of his own life."
Aika stayed quiet for a moment before replying.
"Then maybe he needs someone who won't fight back."
Suzu frowned. "Maybe he needs someone who won't give up on him, either."
Aika smiled faintly. "You're very kind, Suzu."
"Not kind," she said, shaking her head. "Just hopeful."
Before leaving, Suzu turned at the door, her expression soft but serious.
"Whatever he says or does… please don't stop being you."
When she left, the room felt lighter — and emptier all at once.
Aika looked at the pastries, untouched. Then she whispered to herself,
"I won't, Suzu. Not even if he tries to break me."
Hayama Estate — That Night
Masaki Hayama entered his study quietly, finding his son still awake — jacket draped over the chair, laptop open, untouched drink beside him.
"Working late again?" Masaki asked, his tone even.
Renjiro didn't look up. "Always."
Masaki crossed the room and closed the laptop. "You missed the family meeting."
"I saw the result," Renjiro said flatly. "You didn't need me there to agree for me."
Masaki's eyes narrowed slightly. "I needed you there because it's your life being decided. Whether you like it or not, this isn't something to treat with indifference."
Renjiro gave a dry laugh. "Indifference? You think this is indifference? I'm being sold off for a family name and a stock merger."
Masaki's voice grew sharper. "You're being trusted with something our forefathers built! The Tachibanas have kept their word to us for generations. And now it's your turn."
Renjiro stood abruptly, his tone cutting.
"Then maybe you should've given it to Hiroto. He'd play the perfect husband without complaint."
Masaki's reply was calm but heavy.
"I chose you because you have fire. Because you never wanted to be second. Don't use that fire to burn the bridge that's meant to carry you forward."
For a moment, the silence between father and son was absolute — both proud, both stubborn, both unwilling to bend.
Then Masaki turned toward the door.
"You can hate the duty all you want, Renjiro. But don't mistake resentment for strength. One will destroy you; the other will build you."
And he left.
Renjiro stared at the door long after it closed.
His reflection in the dark window stared back — unblinking, unresolved.
"If she wants strength," he muttered, "she'll see what mine looks like."
Ginza District — Private Restaurant Lounge, Evening
The Hayamas and Tachibanas had arranged a discreet dinner at one of Ginza's most exclusive traditional restaurants — no press, no photographers, just close inner-circle family members and trusted advisors.
The formal engagement ceremony was now weeks away, and both sides wanted everything aligned. This dinner was meant to be a quiet touchpoint — no pressure, no spectacle.
But Renjiro hadn't planned to attend.
Until he did.
He entered the reserved floor of the restaurant half an hour late, loosening his tie, his expression sharp and unreadable. As expected, the private dining room was empty — the families had already left after finishing the business discussion, leaving behind only arranged dessert trays and empty porcelain teacups.
But someone was still there.
Aika.
She stood by the window, her back to him, wearing a deep blue evening dress with a soft drape over her shoulders. The city lights reflected off the glass in front of her — and for a moment, he thought she hadn't noticed him.
Until she spoke.
"They said you wouldn't come."
He stayed in the doorway, not answering.
Then:
"Didn't want to. Still don't."
She turned slowly, her expression calm, unreadable. "Then why are you here?"
Renjiro's hands slid into his pockets, his voice cold. "Maybe I wanted to see what it looks like — the life you're trying so hard to lock me into."
She tilted her head slightly. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"What else would you call it?" he snapped, stepping forward. "You say nothing. You smile, nod, play the perfect daughter — and the moment things get hard, you just disappear behind that mask again."
Aika stayed silent.
That only pushed him further.
"Do you even care what this is doing to me? Or are you just enjoying your new title — the bride of Hayama's second son?"
She blinked, once. "I never asked for a title."
"No, you just accepted it without question. Like it's your birthright. Like this marriage is your prize for being obedient all your life."
Still poised. Still calm.
She only replied, "You think I'm doing this for attention?"
"I think," he said, stepping closer, voice low and sharp,
"you're doing this because it makes you feel superior. Because you like watching me fall into line while you stay untouchable."
That hit harder than he expected.Harder than he realized he wanted to hurt.
But she didn't flinch. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her.
"I'm sorry you see it that way," she said softly. "But I won't apologize for respecting my family."
He scoffed. "Of course you won't. You're too perfect to be wrong."
Then he turned on his heel — bitter, twisted by things he didn't want to feel — and walked out of the room, letting the door shut behind him.
Moments Later — Private Dining Room
The room was still. Quiet. Too quiet.
Aika remained standing for a few more seconds.
Then her hands slowly dropped to her sides.
And the first tear fell.
She inhaled sharply, pressing her hand to her mouth — not to silence sobs, but to hold herself together.
There was no one left in the building but the servers. No family. No Suzu. No escape.
So she sat back down at the low table.
Folded her hands.
And cried.
Silently.
Alone.
Because she was tired of being unbreakable.
Because Renjiro's words still echoed like cuts across her chest.
Because no matter how calm she stayed…he only saw her as the enemy.
why cant he see her side of view