YOU, ME, US [ okkotsu yuuta x reader ]

01: NOW

It starts like this.

Tap, tap.

"Imai," someone calls. Glancing up, you come face-to-face with an unfamiliar boy who leans over your desk. He stares at you with stars glimmering in his eyes, the tips of his pale ears turning pink as he fumbles over his words, stuttering as his friends egg him on from behind.

"So uh..." he finally musters out. "What's your type?"

You eye him up and down. The rhythmic, slow taps of your finger come to a halt as your lips form a thin line. After a second of silence, your tempo returns, your index finger knocking harshly on the hardwood desk.

Tap, tap. "Rich, older men. Preferably those who are willing to put me in their will."

"What about someone your age?" he asks, voice wavering.

"Nah."
He swallows thickly. "What if they'll get rich in the future?"

"I want a man, not an investment," you respond. The boy stares at you with his mouth hanging slightly agape, the pink tint from his ears spreading as his entire face erupts with red.

"Oh..." he trails off. "Okay."

He fiddles nervously with the hem of his uniform before giving you a full bow.

"I-I'm sorry for bothering you, Imai-san!" he stutters.

So now he's adding the honorifics? you think with a scoff. I hate two-faced men. Unless they have money.

Like a damsel, he goes running out of the classroom, his line of friends following suit. You say nothing as some of your own friends shoot you incredulous looks.

"[Name]," they whine. "Why'd you say that? He was totally into you!"

Tap, tap. "He's not my type. I need a rich man." you say matter-of-factly. Because being rich means that you can back your flaws up with money. What's better: an asshole of a partner that can't take you out on a luxury cruise, or an asshole of a partner that can take you out on a luxury cruise? With an additional benefit of inheritance later?

"Where are you going to find a rich man?!" your best friend, Yoshinaga Aimi, nearly yells. "You're hopeless, [Name]!"

As your best friend, it's Aimi's job to be your certified hater. With narrowed eyes, she stares at you with the might of a thousand suns, disappointment radiating through her gaze. Although you've faced a multitude of life-or-death situations before, Aimi's expression is definitely up there.

"There are plenty of them," you respond. "Over the age of sixty-five, too."

"You're going to die alone," she says. Her dark eyes don't even bother to look at you anymore as she runs a hand through her black, shoulder-length hair.

"With money," you correct.

Frankly, you think your standards are reasonable. In this economy, everyone needs a rich, old man who is willing to give them all the inheritance. How are you going to survive in the ever-expanding Japanese economy without generations of family wealth? How are you going to travel the world as you please, without ever having to work a day in your life, without wealth?

Wealth runs the world, and you're gonna run the wealth.

"[Name]," Aimi groans. "You're literally fourteen. Just date someone here for fun!"

"No excuses." You shrug. "I should've been investing in the American housing market when I was six. I'd be loaded now..."

Tap, tap.