ꜱᴛᴀʀ-ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴇᴅ - toji f.

ɪɪɪ - ᴀ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ

-星が交差した-

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ | ᴄᴜʀꜱɪɴɢ, ꜱᴍᴏᴋɪɴɢ.

☾ • • • 𖤓

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ᴩᴏᴠ

Aoki stepped out of the sleek black car and into the grand entrance of her family’s estate, feeling a subtle weight settle back onto her shoulders.

The towering gates, the manicured gardens, and the polished marble floors—all of it reminded her of the world she belonged to, the one she had momentarily escaped when she wandered into that tiny ramen shop with Toji.

Her father’s estate was a masterpiece of architecture, a testament to the Masako family’s wealth and status.

Everything was perfect—down to the smallest detail. But as she crossed the threshold into the grand hall, that familiar sense of confinement returned.

The pristine world of luxury that surrounded her felt cold compared to the vibrant life she had just experienced.

The household staff bowed respectfully as she passed by, her security guard walking behind her at a measured distance.

Aoki caught a glimpse of herself in the enormous gilded mirror that adorned the hallway—a well-dressed heiress with luxury bags in hand, her face calm and composed. But inside, her mind was still reeling from her encounter with Toji.

As she approached her father’s office, she straightened her posture, smoothing her expression into something more presentable.

It was late, and she knew she was expected to be home earlier, but she wasn’t worried about her father being angry. Masako Daichi wasn’t one to lose his temper over trivial things.

He was a man of calculated decisions and cold precision.

She knocked lightly on the heavy wooden door before entering.

Her father sat behind his massive oak desk, dressed in an well tailored sweater that screamed old money.

His dark hair, streaked with a hint of gray, was neatly combed back, and his sharp features were softened by the dim lighting of the room.

He glanced up from his papers as she entered, giving her a brief nod.

“Aoki,” he greeted, his voice deep and measured. “I trust your day was productive.”

Aoki forced a polite smile, stepping forward. “Yes, Father. I was just out doing some shopping.”

He didn’t press for more details.

Her father wasn’t the type to concern himself with the little things. Instead, he motioned for her to take a seat across from him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Masako Daichi began, folding his hands neatly on the desk. “There’s something important we need to discuss.”

Aoki’s stomach knotted slightly.

Her father’s tone was calm, but there was an edge of seriousness to it that made her sit up straighter in the chair.

She wasn’t in trouble, but whenever her father used that tone, it usually meant some kind of responsibility was about to be placed on her shoulders.

“We have a major press conference coming up,” her father continued, his sharp gaze locking onto hers. “It’s an event of considerable importance, both politically and for the family’s image. I’ll be addressing the nation alongside several key figures, including members of the international community.”