"Wow, there are actually men like that."
After hearing Takashi describe his dinner encounter, Haruno's eyes widened as if her entire worldview had just been refreshed.
"I thought people like that only existed in dramas, but I guess reality has them too." She rested one hand on her cocktail glass, sighing.
Takashi picked up a slice of watermelon and popped it into his mouth. "That's because you haven't seen enough."
The concept of an information bubble doesn't only exist online; it exists in real life too.
No matter how hard an ordinary person tries to imagine, they still can't comprehend how the wealthy live.
Similarly, the rich can't empathize with ordinary people.
They don't understand why some people remain poor their entire lives, and they assume it must be because they're not trying hard enough.
Haruno was born into wealth, surrounded by people just like her, so it was only natural that she had never encountered an oddball like Umeno Kentarou before.
On the other hand, the real surprise was that Shizuka had ever dated someone like him.
It must have been a hardship she was destined to go through.
"I really haven't seen much."
Haruno wasn't the type to always argue just for the sake of winning or to force her opinions on others.
Sometimes, she was quite straightforward.
Are they really sisters?
Takashi couldn't help but recall his heated debate with Yukino last time.
How could two sisters be so different in personality?
As he pondered, he threw the last grape from the fruit platter into his mouth.
"Another one."
Seeing this, Haruno signaled a passing host to bring another plate of fruit.
"That's not necessary."
Takashi felt a little embarrassed.
Since coming to this host club, he had barely touched his drink, but he had devoured several fruit platters.
Lounging lazily on the leather sofa, Haruno waved her hand dismissively.
"The Yukinoshita family may not be some grand noble house, but we're not so poor that we'll go broke over a few plates of fruit."
The truth was, she found it amusing to watch Takashi stuffing his cheeks like a hamster hoarding food.
As expected, the older sister is better.
Compared to the second daughter, he definitely preferred the eldest.
"Miss Haruno, I'm going to use the restroom."
Maybe it was all the fruit, but this was already Takashi's second trip to the bathroom.
As he came out and washed his hands, a woman stepped out of the adjacent stall.
She appeared to be in her thirties, with neatly trimmed short hair and well-defined features. Her complexion was a healthy tan—neither too pale nor too dark.
On her ring finger sat a diamond the size of a pigeon's egg, signaling her marital status.
She seemed to have had quite a bit to drink; the scent of alcohol clung to her, and her cheeks were flushed with intoxication.
Takashi gave her a quick glance before looking away.
It didn't surprise him.
The infidelity rate in Japan was alarmingly high.
Both men and women—over half of them had cheated at some point.
Love?
In the end, it all came down to morality and conscience.
The same woman, scantily clad and out seeking thrills in a host club tonight, might wake up tomorrow as the perfect, virtuous wife in the eyes of society.
He just pitied the poor guy married to her.
Takashi had barely finished that thought when he caught a strong whiff of perfume.
Before he knew it, a hand had turned his face to the side.
Sanka Aria scrutinized him closely before giving his cheek a satisfied pat. "You're coming with me tonight."
Takashi was startled and quickly took a step back. "Miss, I'm not a host."
Even though the potential rewards for entering this line of work were substantial, and he had already been considering it—otherwise, he wouldn't have asked Haruno about it—when the moment of decision actually arrived, he still hesitated.
He struggled, wavering between acceptance and rejection.
Because he knew that once he crossed this line, it would only get easier to do it again.
And again.
Until he became someone unrecognizable even to himself.
But at the same time, he wasn't quite ready to give up just yet.
His current situation reminded him of a question once posed by Professor Luo Xiang:
If someone offers you 500,000 yen a year to be their kept man, would you accept?
No? What if it was 5 million?
Luo Xiang had framed it as a hypothetical question.
Takashi, on the other hand, was facing the real thing.
Sanka Aria tilted her head, smiling. "Afraid I can't afford you?"
She clearly didn't believe him.
What kind of man would be at a host club if he weren't a host?
"Relax, I have plenty of money."
"Ever heard of the Sanka family?"
Takashi blinked, confused.
Sanka family? Didn't ring a bell.
There were too many rich people in this world—how could he possibly keep track of all of them?
"I'm the lady of that house."
Sanka Aria pointed to herself. "If you serve me well tonight, money won't be an issue."
"I like guys like you."
She took a step forward, leaning in.
Takashi swiftly dodged, letting her stumble forward.
"Miss, you're drunk. I really am not a host. I'll be leaving now."
He realized that, deep down, he still couldn't bring himself to do it.
Humans are like that sometimes.
You might think you've already made up your mind, but when you reach the final step, you hesitate.
As Takashi turned to leave, Sanka Aria suddenly thought of her husband—
The man who showered Rami with love while completely ignoring her.
She had seduced him.
Begged him.
Even had a breakdown in front of him.
But he had always treated her as if she were invisible.
The mere thought of it ignited a deep, nameless fury within her.
"Take one more step, and I'll make sure you never set foot in Tokyo again!"
She didn't believe for a second that she couldn't deal with him.
She was the lady of the Sanka family.
Other than a handful of families like the Kashiwagi, Shionomiya, Shijo, and Fujiwara clans, there weren't many people she needed to fear.
Takashi stopped in his tracks.
Deep breath. Feeling dizzy is normal.
He kept telling himself that.
Seeing him freeze, Sanka Aria finally smiled in satisfaction.
Just as he turned back, a surprised female voice rang out:
"Takashi?"
He froze.
Wait—how did he run into someone he knew here?
Was Tokyo just that small?
Or did he simply know too many women?
A girl chewing gum and wearing a beret emerged from the shadows.
She had a delicate, snow-white face and elegantly arched brows.
Her short hair, sharp gaze, and a carefree yet slightly reckless aura made her seem effortlessly cool and independent.
Yes—cool.
Takashi had met many different kinds of women.
Refined ones.
Gentle ones.
Elegant ones.
But this girl was different.
She was both cool and handsome, to the point where one might wonder if she had been born the wrong gender.
If she were a guy, Takashi couldn't even imagine how popular she'd be.
She was the perfect image of a delinquent heir from a novel.
Ryuju Momo stopped in front of him, her expression puzzled.
"You're Takashi?"
She could still recognize his features, but...
Why did he look so much worse than before?
Do men really have such a short prime?
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