Chapter 1: We’re Happily Getting Married

—Rewinding time a little bit, to a certain day during a business dinner.

“Ohohohoho! Hinosaka-chan, you’re such a fine man! What do you say we go somewhere else and keep drinking… just the two of us?”

Her age was a mystery. She had certainly lived through at least half a century plus some change… and yet, the person sitting across from me was a muscular Madame President stuffed into a dress that looked ready to burst at the seams.

“The yakitori here really is the best~”

An entire skewer of chicken disappeared in a single bite.

Sitting alone with this muscular Madame President—who made normal-sized skewers look like mere toothpicks—I could see only one destiny for myself: being devoured.

“That is a very tempting offer, but I have plans after this… Gah!?“

The female boss sitting next to me just stomped on my foot! It hurts!

“He’d love to! Hinosaka doesn’t have any plans tomorrow either!”

“Wait, but the meeting tomorrow morning… Ngh!?“

She stomped on me again! Isn’t this… like, total power harassment?

“I’ll go ahead and arrange the next venue immediately,” my boss continued.

“Oh, don’t worry about that~. I’ll just take him to my usual spot. The soundproofing is perfect there~. Uhihihi. Hey. You. Book that place. No, not that one. The one next to the hotel… Oh, for heaven’s sake, just do it!”

While the Madame President began bickering with her subordinates, I whispered my plea to my boss.

(What are you doing!? If this keeps up, I’m going to a second party alone with a Giant Troll President!)

(It’ll be fine. They say if you spend one night with her, your career will be secure for years.)

(Secure how exactly!? One night… and I definitely just heard the word ‘hotel’!)

(You lucky dog, getting to spend a fun time with a lady as part of your job.)

(You do NOT believe that for a second! Besides, ‘lady’ is a stretch for her age… and wait, is she even human? I’ve never seen an elderly woman that ripped before!)

(That is one of the Seven Wonders of the industry. Maybe you’ll finally solve the mystery. Ha-ha.)

(Don’t you ‘Ha-ha’ me!!)

“Hinosaka-chaaan! I called a taxi~”

“M-Madame President! I’m so sorry, I suddenly have a stomach ache… Mmph!?“

This time, she silenced me by stuffing a piece of rolled omelet into my mouth. Her use of physical force was excessive.

(Don’t worry, Hinosaka. I’ll make sure the company hears of your heroic sacrifice.)

I’d really rather not have my “heroic sacrifice” broadcasted to the whole office, thanks—

“Haaaaah…”

I escaped to the restroom and let out a massive sigh.

Was this… actually part of the job?

The woman was a high-powered CEO of a publishing house that pumped out one bestseller after another. Building a close relationship with her would be incredibly beneficial for our company… but still.

I worked for a publishing distribution company—what we call a “book wholesaler” or Toritsugi. We sit between the publishers and the bookstores, handling the wholesale and logistics. Every day, we gather massive quantities of books from publishers all over Japan and ship them out to bookstores nationwide.

I work for one of the industry giants: Shin-Nihon Publishing Distribution.

Between us and our rival, Zen-Nihon Publishing Distribution, we control about 70% of the market (meaning roughly 70% of all books in Japan pass through one of these two companies). Because our sales scale is even larger than the publishers or bookstores, people sometimes describe us as the “monsters” who rule the publishing world… but to those of us working there, it’s just a normal company.

So, like any other company, it was important to stay in the good graces of the winners. To that end, I bowed my head, offered flatteries, and entertained clients… but spending a night with a muscular CEO of questionable gender? That was definitely not normal.

The plan to escape through the bathroom window flashed through my mind for a second, but I quickly dismissed it. I’d still have to go to the office tomorrow and the day after. If it ended with just drinking… it wouldn’t kill me… probably.

“Man… I want to get married…”

The moment I stepped out of the restroom, the delusion I’d been having lately leaked out of my mouth. It wasn’t that I had someone specific in mind. And it wasn’t about wanting a “2D waifu” either.

I wanted to get married in the real world. I wanted a normal wife.

Now that I was twenty-seven and watching my high school and college friends get hitched, I occasionally felt an overwhelming, pointless urge to have a happy home of my own. It wasn’t that I hated my current job. But sometimes I’d just start thinking:

What is a company, anyway? What am I working for? What lies at the end of all this soul-crushing labor?

…Well, in short, it was just escapism. It was like wishing to win the lottery without even buying a ticket. If I seriously wanted to get married, there were a million things I’d need to do first.

The idea of “my wife” suddenly falling from the sky was impossible—

“Hey, you there.”

A girl with strikingly intense eyes was standing in the hallway.

Her light chestnut hair was semi-long, the ends curled inward in a soft, elegant style. Even from a distance, I could see the healthy gloss of her hair, the “angel’s ring” of light reflecting off her cuticles. Her skin was a translucent white. She had perfectly shaped ears and a straight, delicate bridge to her nose.

While her strong-willed eyes tended to grab your attention, every single feature on her face was perfectly balanced. Her simple outfit—a white knit top and a mini pleated skirt—carried an air of refinement. She sparkled as if she were standing under her own personal spotlight. She had slender legs and a great figure; even from behind, anyone would realize she was a beautiful girl.

I call her a “girl” because she was petite and looked quite young. Since this was a high-end izakaya, I didn’t think she was a minor… maybe a college student? Even so, for her to be in a place like this, she had to be either very rich or with a very rich man.

“…Yes?”

I had been so captivated that my response was delayed. She moved her plump, youthful lips and spoke.

“If you’re thinking, ‘I don’t want to deal with dating, but I wish a cute wife who could cook and clean would just suddenly fall from the sky so I could get married,’ then… do you want to get married?”

—What did she just say?

“Don’t you want to get out of here right now and marry me?”

It didn’t seem like I had misheard her. In which case…

“Um, are you confusing me with someone else?”

“I am talking to you, Kenichi Hinosaka-san.”

So it wasn’t a case of mistaken identity… but wait. Had we met somewhere before? I had absolutely no memory of her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have much time, so I need you to be quick. Do you want to get married, or not? Yes, or no?”

No matter how you looked at it, the answer was obviously “no.” She was a girl I’d never met before whose name I didn’t even know. Plus, a girl who pushes for marriage right off the bat reeks of danger.

However… if there was one thing leaning me toward a “yes,” it was that this girl had perfectly, precisely nailed my exact delusion.

Plus, it gave me a perfect excuse to turn down that second round with the muscular Madame President.

Think about it: I was getting out of here right now to go get married. I didn’t have time for drinks. If I actually got married, surely a rose-colored life awaited me. Even the packed trains—where livestock are probably treated with more dignity—and the most irrational orders from my boss would be bearable if it was for the sake of my family (and my mortgage)… or so everyone says.

Even so, even if she was cute, could cook, and let me skip the whole exhausting dating phase—even if she was everything I’d ever dreamed of—there was only one logical answer.

“Understood. Let’s get married.”

──────Wait, what?

I had intended to refuse. No matter how much I was losing my mind, a decision this idiotic should have been impossible. Even if I wanted it in my deepest subconscious, this was just a slip of the tongue…

“No, wait, that was a joke—”

“Great! Well then, shall we go?”

The smile on this nameless girl’s face was so heartbreakingly adorable that the words of retraction died in my throat.

---

I’m not entirely sure how long I was in the car.

Regardless, I had successfully escaped the business dinner with the girl I’d met at the izakaya. Judging by how my phone wouldn’t stop ringing, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get off scot-free. The battery died halfway through, though. Ha-ha… Well, it’s too late to go back now anyway.

I leaned back into the plush seat as we pulled away from the restaurant. Next to me sat the girl who had invited me. Driving in the front was a man in a black suit whose identity remained a mystery. We barely spoke a word inside the car.

Eventually, the car came to a stop for something other than a red light. Following her lead, I stepped out to find ourselves in front of an estate so massive it looked like an old samurai residence.

“Is this…?”

“It’s my house.”

“…Oh.”

My internal concept of the word “house” was on the verge of collapsing. If someone told me there was an admission fee, I’d probably pay it without a second thought.

We passed through a Japanese garden, the hollow thwack of a shishiodoshi water fountain echoing in the air, and entered the mansion. I was hit with another shock: the foyer alone was larger than the apartment I lived in.

“Come on in.”

As I took off my shoes, common sense kicked in—is it really okay to just walk into the house of a girl I just met? But I gave up on thinking seriously. The process and the situation were already completely insane. If anything, going all-in on this story would make for a better excuse for ditching the dinner…

We walked down a long, long hallway and were shown into a grand reception room. In the middle of the silent, tension-filled space sat a single person.

He was an old man with slicked-back white hair, wearing an indigo kimono. He sat cross-legged on a raised section of the room. He radiated an overwhelming dignity; there was no way this was just an ordinary citizen.

The old man said, “That will be all,” and the man in the suit bowed and left, leaving only me and the girl—whose name, Arisa Kimisaka, I had finally learned moments ago.

This intensity. This tension. This situation. I was almost certain of it. I was definitely… in the mansion of a Yakuza boss.

“Sit,” the old man commanded, backed by a golden folding screen. I sat in the lower-status position, kneeling formally in seiza. Arisa remained standing next to me.

“Grandfather. Like I promised, I brought the person I told you about. His name is Kenichi Hinosaka.”

“…Um, Kimisaka-san. I don’t know what you told him beforehand, but…”

I’d come this far on a wave of escapism and momentum, but sensing the atmosphere was no longer a joke, I spoke up. The old man, arms crossed, suddenly snapped his eyes open.

“Do you swear to make my granddaughter happy?”

A sharp gaze that felt anything but “civilian” locked onto me. I’ve gained a fair amount of life experience through my work. I can tell when someone is being serious, even if I’ve just met them or have to read between the lines.

And this… this was dead serious.

“K-Kimisaka-san, this is bad, we shouldn’t—”

“Of course he will! I’m sure he’ll make me happy! That’s why I’m marrying him!”

“Why are you the one answering!?”

“I’m asking the man!” the grandfather barked.

“Right! Of course!”

I tugged on Arisa’s sleeve.

(Look, I said ‘let’s get married’ earlier, but I wasn’t serious… I thought it was some weird pick-up line, or when the guys in suits showed up, I thought ‘Oh crap, I’ve been caught in a honey trap’…)

(I know. If you were the kind of crazy person who seriously considered marriage just because a random girl proposed to you, I would have kicked you out immediately.)

(You’re the one who proposed to me!!)

(Just pretend. We aren’t actually getting married, so don’t worry.)

(Pretend…?)

(There are circumstances… I need my grandfather to believe I have a fiancé.)

(Even so, isn’t it bad to trick your grandfather?)

(You’re the one who followed a random woman home, and now you’re trying to take the moral high ground? Lol.)

(You’ve got a lot of nerve, don’t you!?)

(…Please. Just think of it as helping someone in need. Just for now. I’ll make it up to you, and I won’t let anything bad happen.)

“Please,” she said again, her tone shifting to one of genuine sincerity. It seemed she really was in a tight spot…

“Well? Where is your answer?”

“H-Here! I mean, yes!”

I practically jumped at his gravelly, menacing voice. I felt like saying “No” in this situation would be physically dangerous. It was just an act anyway. In that case…

“I will… make her happy. Your granddaughter… I’ll be the one to do it.”

“Truly?”

“…Truly.”

“With your whole heart and soul?”

“With my whole heart and soul.”

“You love my granddaughter… you love Arisa?”

“I… love her.”

“And you’ll marry her?”

My eyes darted around. If this kept up, I was going to be legally bound by my own words!

(It’s fine. You and I can’t actually get married anyway, so don’t sweat it.)

I’d just met her, yet for some reason, it didn’t feel like the first time. I found myself believing that she wouldn’t intentionally lead me into a disaster. And so—

“Yes, I’ll marry her…!”

I threw out one of the most important lines of my life based on nothing but sheer momentum. Upon hearing my words, the old man gave a deep, satisfied nod.

“In that case, Hinosaka-kun… no, Kenichi-kun.”

“Y-Yes.”

I swallowed hard. If he saw through the lie… I’d probably end up at the bottom of the ocean.

“Can you handle your liquor?”

“S-Somewhat…”

“Then!”

The old man clapped his hands and stood up. At that moment, the sliding fusuma doors flew open, and a flood of men in suits and women in kimonos rushed in. They were carrying crates of beer and platters of food.

The grandfather shouted with a lung capacity that defied his age:

“It’s a banquet!”

---

The grand hall turned into a chaotic party. At first, everyone was stiff and formal, but at the grandfather’s cry of “No formalities tonight!” they all loosened up instantly. Now, a group of middle-aged men were holding a raucous karaoke duet contest. They all looked like they were having the time of their lives.

People kept pouring me drinks, overcome with emotion, sobbing things like, “Please take care of the Young Mistress…!” and “Our little girl is all grown up… sniff.” I just sat there with a cramped, awkward smile plastered on my face.

Meanwhile, the “Young Mistress” was nonchalantly sipping orange juice.

“Are you really, really sure this is okay? Can we actually get away with doing all this and then just saying ‘Actually, we aren’t getting married’? Can we?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll just make up something about cold feet or a broken engagement.”

I finally managed to corner her in the back of the room after escaping the relentless barrage of drinks.

“That paper you handed me earlier that said ‘Put your name and seal here’… that looked a lot like a marriage registration form.”

“Hmm, must have been your imagination~”

“Don’t be so casual about it! And why was there a seal with my name on it ready to go!?”

“‘Kimisaka’ and ‘Hinosaka’ sound pretty similar, don’t they?”

“We’re just pretending, right? You look pretty young, so doing anything weird is—”

“Arisa.”

“Eh?”

“Don’t call me ‘you.’ Call me ‘Arisa.'”

She… Arisa, leaned her face in close to mine. Staring into those powerful eyes, I felt like I was being pulled in.

“…Fine. Arisa.”

Arisa nodded, looking satisfied. “Yeah. I’m the type of person who wants to be called by my name, even in a marriage.”

“WE AREN’T ACTUALLY MARRIED!!”

“I told you, there’s no need to panic. My name isn’t even on the marriage form Grandfather has yet.”

“So it is a marriage registration form!? If you write your name on that, it’s over!”

“Even if I write it, we can’t legally get married anyway. Geez, you’re such a worrywart… Kenichi-san.”

When she said my first name, Arisa looked away, her cheeks tinting a shy pink.

…What was that? That was incredibly cute. Her shyness felt so innocent. But, putting that aside for a moment—

“Will you please explain the situation properly? Why do we need to pretend to be married, but why is it that we can’t actually get married?”

“You’re so impatient, Kenichi-san.”

“I think I’ve been remarkably patient, considering!”

“Doesn’t this conversation sound a little erotic?”

“No, it really doesn’t.”

Arisa tilted her head. “That’s weird…”

“Anyway, the explanation.”

“Fine. The reason I’m pretending to be engaged and getting married is that I have to make Grandfather believe I’ve chosen a husband for myself.”

“…That doesn’t explain much.”

“And the reason we absolutely cannot get married is because the law says so.”

“The law?”

“Exactly. So no matter how much Grandfather yells ‘Get married!’, it has zero legal binding power.”

Up close, Arisa’s skin was flawless and radiant. Now that I was paying attention, I could smell a faint, sweet scent coming from her. I mean, if a girl this young and cute actually became my wife, I’d be thrilled, but…

“Because I’m fifteen and an active middle school student, so legally, I can’t get married.”

…

……

“…………Isn’t that even worse!? I mean, it’s true you can’t get married, but fifteen!? You’re in middle school!?”

I thought she might be a young college student, which would have been risky enough, but she blew right past that—she was a middle schooler, right in the middle of compulsory education…!?

From her perspective, she was closer in age to a primary schooler than to me.

Lolicon… crime… indecency… dangerous words started spinning through my head. I had no intention of doing anything shady. But without knowing it, I, a twenty-seven-year-old member of society, had just declared that I was marrying a middle school girl.

…Talk about a “power word.”

“I look pretty grown-up, don’t I?” Arisa smiled adorably. I, however, was not smiling at all.

“I get that we can’t get married… but that means…”

“Wait, what’s wrong? Why are you turning pale and standing up…?”

“I’m going home… I’m going home! It’s not right to joke about marriage with a middle schooler!”

“Oh, Grandfather.”

I turned around to see Arisa’s grandfather. His earlier dignity was nowhere to be found. Now, his kimono was sloppily hanging open.

“Kenichi-kun! I don’t care about the name—Arisa can join your family or you can marry into ours! Either way, you’re inheriting this estate! Wahahaha!”

The red-faced old man slapped me hard on the shoulder.

“No, um… Sir. I can’t marry your granddaughter. Legally speaking…”

“Don’t you worry about that! I’ve already got the inheritance tax strategies sorted out!”

“Listen to me… and wow, you reek of booze!”

“Now then, you and Arisa shall start living together in this mansion starting today!”

“Hey, listen to me, you old geezer!?”

“I want to see my great-grandchildren while I’m still kicking!”

“At this stage, that’s literally impossible without me committing a crime!?”

“We’ll name the first one ‘Hermione’!”

“That’s a great series, but your granddaughter is Japanese!?”

I tried my best to resist, but without a car provided by the estate, I couldn’t even get back to the city. And so, the night deepened.