So it was a marriage scam? No wonder you’d be better off jumping right now. Yukieda recalled countless news reports on the topic.
If not for the live stream, she’d have kicked the woman off without hesitation.
Thankfully, her mask hid her face—otherwise, the chubby woman would’ve seen the sheer disdain in Yukieda’s eyes.
“But your money’s all ill-gotten, isn’t it?” Yukieda snapped. “Come down. Start fresh. Earn it cleanly this time.”
The woman’s expression twisted with jealousy. “You’re so cute—men would throw cash at you if you tossed a sock at the wall! How could you understand real struggle?” She sank into self-pity, muttering obscure words like “charm” and “beauty.”
*How?!*
*I was a wage slave too—no, I still am!*
Yukieda forced patience, even citing her café part-time job.
“No! I’d never work a day job! Not in this lifetime!” the woman wailed, swaying dangerously on the ledge.
Yukieda threw up her hands, fighting an eye roll. “Then what *will* make you come down?” she asked, voice thick with exasperation.
This woman was harder to handle than Shizuku. If Shizuku acted like this, Yukieda would’ve given up long ago.
The woman let out two choked whimpers, then roared, “I want a handsome guy! A handsome man to talk to me! Not some pretty girl!”
*A handsome guy? Where am I supposed to find one for this pig?!*
Yukieda’s breath hitched. *That’s it. I’m kicking this sow off. Right now.*
Suddenly—firm leather footsteps echoed from the stairwell behind them.
Not loud, yet commanding. Both women turned, frozen.
A figure emerged from the shadows. Gleaming pointed-toe shoes. Impeccable trousers. A crisp white shirt clinging to a sculpted chest, buttons undone just enough. A rooftop gust failed to move the chubby woman—but sent the man’s trench coat and long hair swirling dramatically. Live-stream comments flooded in unison.
He tilted his head 45 degrees toward the sun.
“What a fine day,” he murmured.
Cameras swiveled.
“Who *is* this guy?”
“So hot!” comments drifted across the screen.
“Y-You… who are you?” Yukieda whispered.
“Ahem. It’s me. Leave it to me.”
The voice came from her earpiece—and right in front of her.
*Mai…*
Yukieda stepped aside quietly, eyes locked on Mai’s backside. *How? That flat butt somehow looks perky in women’s clothes?*
Mai endured their stares, pasting on a placid, utterly fake smile.
“Please come back, beautiful lady. You’re naturally lovely. With just a little effort… you’d shine even brighter.”
The woman’s throat bobbed. “R-Really?” She blushed faintly.
“Truly,” Mai replied, gaze soft and practiced.
“Did I… captivate you?”
“You are the blazing sun. I am the moth drawn to your light.”
Yukieda shuddered. The chat cringed with her.
“Then… come down.”
The woman hesitated. “Can you say… *that* phrase?”
“Which?”
“‘Ah-yi xi tie lu.’”
Yukieda felt Mai stiffen. Mouth opening and closing like a gasping fish—clearly his first time, and *definitely* not wanting this chubby woman to be the recipient. She’d never seen Mai so helpless.
“That’s *enough*!” Yukieda snapped, fury boiling over. *A first time is a precious memory for someone important!*
With a cry, she launched forward—kicking the woman squarely in the back.
The woman tumbled backward, landing face-first.
Mai glanced beside her—Yukieda was gone. She’d circled to the adjacent building during Mai’s speech and delivered a flawless mid-air kick.
Not the planned ending… but a clean one.
On the way back, things were quieter. Yukieda had dropped her disguise; Mai hadn’t changed yet.
Yukieda scrolled the replay on her device. “Could’ve been cooler,” she muttered. A compliment in the archive made her lips twitch into a strange, pleased smile.
Mai looked drained. After a long pause: “Thanks, Yukieda.”
Yukieda shrugged her slender shoulders. “We’re partners.”
She tugged Mai’s sleeve, stopping them. “So… where’s my drink?”
“Sigh… you still remember?” Mai sighed.
“Of course! Did you think I argued with that woman for fun?”
“Can I change first?”
“Nope.” Yukieda shook her head firmly. “I’ve waited long enough. Where are we drinking?”
Clutching Mai’s sleeve, Yukieda tilted her head up—short stature, youthful face, a faintly displeased pout.
*Adorable.*
No trace of the old man’s soul inside… more like an elementary kid whose parent broke a promise: *“I got 100 points—where’s my drink?”*
(Though no kid would actually ask that.)
Mai’s thoughts drifted to the phrase… *Could I say it to this face?*
*Partner. Partner. Partner.*
Her expression smoothed. “Alright. Let’s go.”
Yukieda’s heart leaped—but she crushed the urge to bounce. *I’m an adult.* She gave a dignified, approving nod. *Good job, young one.*
Unaware her eyes had crinkled into happy crescents.
Mai walked ahead, pretending not to notice.
Unseen by either—Mai’s own lips curved into a faint, genuine smile.
“Sorry, no.”
“Can’t do it.”
Another shopkeeper shook his head. He’d nearly relented—until he spotted the middle schooler (Yukieda in casual wear) behind Mai.
Convenience stores were hopeless. Now even tiny shops refused?
Mai frowned. *How do we buy alcohol looking underage?*
They sat on a bench. A shop window TV blared:
“Damn it! He escaped despite the guards!”
“Unforgivable! Leaving cash—it’s a naked insult to the police!”
Yukieda and Mai exchanged a glance.
“No choice,” Yukieda said.
Mai hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.
Yukieda shot the shopkeeper a mischievous glare, pulled out her device.
“Hello, Mr. Kenji? Good afternoon. Could I trouble you…?”
*Won’t sell to me? Fine. I’ll still get my drink.*
“So *this* was your plan?” Mai blinked. “I thought you were going to…” She glanced at the TV.
“Huh?” Yukieda tilted her head. “Rob it? Steal? That’s wrong. I’d never.”
Mai looked away, flustered. “What did Mr. Kenji say?”
“He said go to *that* place in the red-light district. He’s arranged it.”
“Ah… *that* place!” Mai’s tone warmed with familiarity.
“Yep. That one.”
They took the train. Walked the last stretch—exhausted, distracted.
Neither noticed the shadow tailing them after they stepped off.
It followed them deep into the district… watching as they slipped into a garishly lit, questionable establishment.
