Chapter 9: Are You Teaching Me How to Do Things? The Overachiever, Ryoichi Fujimoto

It was a little after nine in the evening. Aya Asai stood outside a movie theater on a bustling Shinjuku street, clad in a sky-blue spaghetti-strap dress, glancing anxiously around as she waited for Hidenobu Aoyama.

She repeatedly checked the elegant ladies’ watch on her wrist, unable to suppress a mounting impatience and the sting of resentment. So many people longed for the chance to see a movie with her, yet Hidenobu Aoyama had the audacity to be late.

Another ten minutes passed. Her feet ached from standing in high heels before she finally spotted Hidenobu stepping out of a taxi. She hurried toward him.

“Hidenobu, what took you so long? The movie’s about to start—let’s hurry inside.”

“Is being early ever one of my habits?” Hidenobu replied, shutting the car door with a casual air, his tone unapologetic.

His words caught the attention of the couples passing through the theater entrance. The men, in particular, looked on with newfound respect: truly, a peerless role model.

Aya was left speechless, stifled by his retort.

“Pay the fare,” Hidenobu said offhandedly, already striding toward the theater without a backward glance.

Swallowing her irritation, Aya retrieved her wallet from her satchel and politely asked the taxi driver, “Excuse me, sir, how much do I owe you?”

The driver was utterly dumbfounded.

Miss, you must really be starving for affection!

“Sir?” Aya prompted again.

Snapping back to reality, the driver finally named the fare.

“Keep the change,” Aya said, hastily handing over two large bills before dashing after Hidenobu in her heels.

After their tickets were checked at the entrance, they followed the crowd into the darkened theater, feeling their way to their seats.

“Why is there no one around us?” Aya glanced left and right, noticing that the rows ahead were nearly full, yet the seats beside them were conspicuously empty. She was puzzled.

Hidenobu merely laughed softly, saying nothing.

No doubt Ryoichi Fujimoto had gone to great lengths to create this opportunity for privacy—purchasing not only the back corner seats but also the surrounding dozen or so, ensuring they wouldn’t be disturbed. Such meticulous scheming.

But now, the effort had benefited Hidenobu instead.

He nonchalantly rested his hand on Aya’s thigh. Even through the sheer silk stockings, he could feel the delicate smoothness of her skin and couldn’t resist gently stroking it.

“Hidenobu, please… Don’t do that. Someone might see us.” Aya’s body tensed, her cheeks flushed as she pleaded, darting nervous glances around.

He ignored her, pinching the stocking fabric between his fingers and with a rip, tore it open. Instantly, a large patch of her flawless, porcelain skin was exposed.

“Ah!” Aya gasped in shock, drawing the attention of the audience in the rows ahead. Embarrassed, she buried her face in her chest like a quail, her ears burning in the darkness.

Raised with strict discipline and the utmost propriety, she had never imagined being toyed with so brazenly in public.

Yet beneath her anger, a strange thrill stirred within her.

Hidenobu, sensing it was enough, slipped his hand through the torn stocking to caress her bare skin, and calmly asked, “Did you bring the money I asked for?”

“I… I did.” Relieved that he didn’t go further, Aya finally exhaled, fishing a bank card from her purse and presenting it with both hands. “You asked so urgently, I couldn’t withdraw more on short notice. There’s only twenty million yen in the account.”

Though she claimed it wasn’t much, twenty million yen was a substantial sum—when a typical company employee earned only about 300,000 yen a month. Hidenobu himself earned just 270,000.

But then, she was from a family of police officers who’d likely been skimming money since her grandfather’s time—perhaps even from the Aoyama family’s coffers. So, Hidenobu felt no qualms about reclaiming what was rightfully his, simply taking back what the Asai family had taken from the people.

Besides, hadn’t he just given Aya several hundred million yen earlier that day?

“This will do for now,” Hidenobu said, taking the card—a Norin Bank card, the only bank with ATMs at the time.

The absurdity was, those ATMs only operated during business hours; after closing, they shut down as well. Even the machines worked nine to five—a testament to the evils of capitalism.

Surely, no one could be less productive than an ATM.

“Yes,” Aya replied, then nervously cautioned, “Hidenobu, please try to spend it sparingly. This is all the money I managed to save myself.”

“Are you trying to tell me what to do?” Hidenobu slipped the card into his pocket, shooting her a sidelong, displeased glare.

Aya immediately bowed her head. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Let’s watch the movie,” Hidenobu said.

“Yes!”

Aya sat up straight, eyes fixed on the screen, not daring to let her attention wander for a moment.

While the two watched the film, elsewhere Ryoichi Fujimoto, whose efforts had just made Hidenobu’s evening, turned his frustration into determination and set out to investigate Hiroshi Yamamoto through the night.

If Yamamoto was innocent, he could throw it in Hidenobu’s face and vent his anger. If Yamamoto truly was the culprit, uncovering it first would earn him merit.

He was determined to get ahead—determined to leave everyone else in the dust.

When the movie ended, Aya, red-faced, walked out of the theater trailing behind Hidenobu, her bag held high to shield her face. The flesh-toned stockings on her legs were torn in several places, exposing swathes of bare skin. She was mortified, her shame peaking as she could hardly bear to face the world.

“Take me home.”

“Yes!”

………………………

When Hidenobu returned home, he found his sister-in-law, Haruko Aoyama, arranging flowers in a white silk nightdress.

“Hidenobu, you’re back. You must be tired.” Haruko quickly set down the flowers, hurried over, and knelt to arrange his slippers at his feet.

As Hidenobu changed shoes under her care, he glanced at the flowers. “Why so many today?”

“I worked part-time at a flower shop, and the owner let me have these at a discount,” Haruko replied, beaming with pride. “I saved a lot more money than usual.”

Suddenly, her expression changed. She rose slowly and, like a curious puppy, began to sniff around Hidenobu.

“Wait—what are you doing?” he protested, stepping back as she leaned in, nearly pressing against him.

“There’s a woman’s fragrance,” Haruko said with a bright smile. “So our Hidenobu is dating—what wonderful news.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, there’s nothing like that,” Hidenobu said, gently pushing her away and picking up two flowers to divert her attention. “Let me help you with the arrangement.”

“You’re acting suspicious, but all right. I won’t pry. Whoever she is, she must be an extraordinary girl to deserve you,” Haruko teased, winking as she moved closer. “Do you know how to arrange flowers?”

“Ahem, I know a great deal,” Hidenobu replied with no hint of modesty. In his previous life, he’d arranged flowers from around the globe—some with more water, some with less, some with large petals, some small, in all colors and shapes, a dazzling display.

But the kind of “flower arranging” he was referring to was quite different from what his sister-in-law meant. After a few awkward attempts, he gave up and was promptly shooed to the side by Haruko.

She busied herself with the flowers.

He busied himself admiring her.

Her long hair was loosely gathered, with a few stray strands framing her face. Even her loose nightdress couldn’t hide her curves, and as she bent over, the neckline offered fleeting glimpses of delicate skin. She was more beautiful than any flower in the vase.

Suddenly, as if sensing his gaze, Haruko looked up. Their eyes met, and Hidenobu quickly glanced away, flustered. “You don’t need to work part-time anymore. Didn’t I just earn a big reward? There’ll soon be a generous bonus coming in.”

Thank goodness his brother wasn’t home—otherwise, the look in his eyes just now would have earned him a reminder of what it meant for an elder brother to be as stern as a father.

“Really? That’s the second piece of good news today!” Haruko’s eyes shone with delight. She was always so easily contented, not even asking how much the bonus would be. “But I still want to work. I promised the shop owner, and he can’t find a new employee so quickly. Besides, when you’re at work, I get lonely at home.”

“All right, but be sure not to tire yourself out,” Hidenobu said, glancing at his watch. “I’ll turn in for the night. You shouldn’t stay up late either. Good night, see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Hidenobu. See you tomorrow.”

At that moment, Ryoichi Fujimoto, who had waited through the night near Hiroshi Yamamoto’s home, finally made his breakthrough.