Back in middle school, Eriri Spencer Sawamura and Hiroshi Takeda were classmates, though they didn't interact much at first. Eriri's attitude toward Hiroshi wasn't as dismissive as it is now. When Hiroshi first entered his second year, Sayuri Sawamura approached him with an unusual proposition. According to her, Hiroshi's reputation had spread far and wide, he was simply too well-known.
At the time, Hiroshi wasn't thinking about how to turn her down. Instead, his mind raced with thoughts of how to fulfill the contract without Sayuri's husband finding out. But after signing, he learned the truth: the one he was meant to serve wasn't Sayuri, but her daughter, Eriri.
That arrangement lasted two years, spanning most of middle school and ending just after they started high school. Now that it was suddenly over, Hiroshi found it hard to adjust.
"Guess I can sleep in tomorrow…"
Every morning, Hiroshi had prepared breakfast and lunch for Eriri, packing them neatly into lunch boxes. He'd even bought four sets to rotate through. Come to think of it, he still had two of them at Eriri's place. He'd have to swing by and pick them up sometime; sure, they weren't worth much, but every little bit counted. Who knows? If a new client came along and wanted the same breakfast and lunch service, he'd rather not have to buy new boxes.
With that thought, Hiroshi headed back to his rented apartment, already looking forward to a more relaxed tomorrow.
...
Meanwhile, Eriri, a proud member of the art club, didn't make it home until six in the evening after wrapping up her club activities. The moment she stepped through the door, she shed her elegant, high-class persona from school and embraced her true self, a total otaku.
Tossing her bag aside, she made a beeline for the fridge.
From the sofa, Sayuri watched her daughter rummage through the refrigerator, puzzled. "Eriri, what are you doing?"
"I'm starving. Just grabbing something to tide me over."
"Didn't Hiroshi bring you lunch today?"
"He did… but I didn't eat much of it."
"Was it not to your taste?"
"More like I'm tired of it…"
'Tired of it, huh?' Sayuri thought back to the photo Hiroshi had sent her that morning. Even though she hadn't asked for it, he always sent her a picture of Eriri's lunch every school day. Each meal was different, and just looking at the photos made Sayuri's mouth water. Yet here was her daughter, saying she was bored of it.
Well, maybe it was for the best. After all, there wouldn't be any more lunches from now on. Being tired of it might make the transition easier.
After digging through the fridge, Eriri's eyes landed on a strawberry cream cake. It was the dessert Hiroshi had included in yesterday's lunch. She hadn't eaten it then, so she'd brought it home and stashed it in the fridge. Now, it seemed like the perfect snack to fill her empty stomach.
With that in mind, she grabbed the cake and plopped down next to Sayuri on the sofa, taking small, deliberate bites.
Even though it was a day old, the cake tasted surprisingly good. Maybe she was just that hungry or maybe it really was that delicious.
"I thought you said you were tired of Hiroshi's cooking," Sayuri remarked, eyeing the cake.
Eriri paused mid-bite. "I am. But I'm starving, so…"
Sayuri studied her daughter closely. When she'd first approached Hiroshi, it was because Eriri had never had a close male friend growing up, nor had any boy seriously pursued her. Most confessions were shallow, just a quick "I like you" followed by a dramatic rejection and the inevitable "heartbroken bystander" act.
Sayuri worried her daughter might end up with some emotional baggage, so she struck a deal with Hiroshi to give Eriri a taste of what it was like to be genuinely pursued. Originally, she'd planned for just six months, just enough to give Eriri a memorable experience. But once the arrangement started, she was blown away by how well Hiroshi handled it. He was perfect, almost too perfect.
Seeing how well he took care of Eriri, Sayuri began to entertain the idea of turning their fake relationship into something real. Sure, Eriri played the part of the perfect, high-society girl at school, but Sayuri knew the truth: her daughter was a hardcore otaku and a textbook tsundere. Without some kind of miracle, she'd probably end up in an arranged marriage.
Sayuri didn't want that for her. But she also couldn't force Hiroshi and Eriri together, so she kept renewing the contract, hoping something would spark between them.
To be fair, Hiroshi's service was top-notch. In fact, during the first contract, Sayuri had even started to believe he might actually have feelings for Eriri. Thinking they were practically family, she'd stopped paying him for a month, only for Hiroshi to show up at her door, gift in hand, politely asking for his salary.
Back then, knowing he was an orphan and assuming he was struggling financially, she'd asked him point-blank: "Hiroshi, do you really like Eriri, or is this just about the contract? If it's money you need, I can give you a monthly allowance without the contract."
Her words were gentle but direct, and Hiroshi understood perfectly. With a smile, he replied, "If you want me as a son-in-law, Sayuri-neesan, then keep me bound by the contract. If I ever truly fall for Eriri, I'll cancel it myself. But that's not the case right now."
He spoke slowly, sincerely, his face full of youthful optimism and dreams for the future.
That was why Sayuri had signed the second, third, and fourth contracts, each with a higher salary than the last. She was practically raising him as a future son-in-law. But two years had passed, two whole years and despite the fortune she'd spent, every time the contract was up, Hiroshi would show up right on schedule, gift in hand.
She'd even checked with the school about their relationship, but the answer was always the same: "Hiroshi's just a simp, and Eriri doesn't seem interested in him that way."
It drove Sayuri up the wall. Glancing at Eriri, still nibbling on her cake, she sighed. She'd asked this question a dozen times before, but she had to ask one last time.
"Eriri…"
"Hmm?" Eriri set down her fork and turned to her mother.
"What do you really think of Hiroshi?" Sayuri asked, searching her daughter's eyes for any flicker of emotion.
But Eriri's response was flat, almost indifferent. "He's fine, I guess. I see him as a friend."
"Can't you tell how he feels about you?"
"Of course I can. But I've told him to stop, I don't like him that way. He just keeps coming back, and there's nothing I can do about it."
Eriri sounded exasperated, but there was a hint of pride in her voice. She didn't like Hiroshi romantically, but she couldn't deny he was impressive in every way. Being pursued by someone like him for two years did stroke her ego a little.
Sayuri nearly rolled her eyes but held back. "After two years, don't you feel anything for him?"
Eriri's grip tightened on her fork. "Feelings? Maybe a little…"
Truth be told, she'd heard of Hiroshi back in their first year of middle school. His name was on everyone's lips; classmates, teachers, everyone. At the time, it wasn't about feelings; she was just curious about him.
When they started second year, and he began showering her with attention, she'd felt her heart flutter. She even looked forward to seeing what he'd make for her each day. But now? Thinking back on his face, she shook her head.
"Mom, I know he's been good to me, but I just don't like him that way. Can we drop it? I need to go work on my manuscript."
With that, Eriri set down the cake and hurried up the stairs.
Sayuri watched her go, letting out a long sigh. "Well, at least it wasn't a total loss. She was well taken care of, and she won't have any regrets about her youth."
As for the contract, Sayuri planned to keep it a secret from Eriri forever. In her daughter's eyes, Hiroshi would just be a passing figure in her life, a faint memory of someone who once cared.
…..
Meanwhile, Hiroshi stared at his bank account: over 35 million yen (240K usd). A satisfied smile spread across his face. Sure, he was a little bummed that Sayuri hadn't renewed the contract for a fifth time, but it was enough. He was genuinely grateful to her for being such a generous client.
"What should I make for dinner tonight?" he wondered aloud. To celebrate the end of his two-year gig, he decided to treat himself. Flipping through the ingredients in his fridge, he settled on Tempura.
He pulled out a pack of prawns, but just as he set it on the cutting board, the doorbell rang.
Hiroshi glanced toward the door, wondering who could be visiting at this hour.
"Who is it?"
"It's me."
A cool, melodic voice answered from the other side.