~ CHAPTER 5 – The Trial Partner ~

{ Masumi Aikawa’s Point of View }

The dining room is quiet, but not comfortable.

My parents sit on one end of the long table, postured and poised like they’re attending a press conference. Across from them are Mr. and Mrs. Hinami — just as serious, just as expectant.

Between them sits Tetsuya.

He looks exactly as I remember him.

Taller now. More refined. But the same unreadable eyes, the same quiet tension in his shoulders. He doesn’t look at me.

He hasn’t looked at anyone since he walked in.

“We believe,” my father says, “that now is the right time to unite our families.”

My mother adds smoothly, “Masumi has always been responsible, mature, and prepared for this kind of partnership.”

Mrs. Hinami smiles politely. “And Tetsuya is capable, focused, and raised with proper values. A match like this will benefit both families.”

Then Mr. Hinami says it.

Simple. Sharp.

“We’d like the wedding to happen this year.”

I blink.

So does Tetsuya.

There’s a brief silence — like the pause between thunder and lightning.

“I’m sorry,” Tetsuya says suddenly, “but I don’t plan to get married any time soon.”

All four parents stiffen, the mood shifting instantly.

Mr. Hinami frowns. “You agreed to come here.”

“I agreed to a conversation,” Tetsuya says, carefully. “Not a decision made for me.”

Masumi watches him now — not annoyed, not hurt. Just observing. His voice is calm, but his fingers tap nervously beneath the table.

My mother leans forward. “Tetsuya, dear, you don’t need to be afraid of commitment. You two are both from good families. You’ve seen each other at events before. You’ll grow into it.”

“I don’t know her well enough,” Tetsuya replies. “It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

Mrs. Hinami chimes in, a touch too sweet. “That’s what marriage is about — learning together. You’ll have time to grow close.”

My father clears his throat. “This is a rare opportunity, son. Don’t throw it away on hesitation.”

Tetsuya is silent now.

The kind of silence I know all too well — the kind where you’ve run out of polite ways to say no.

I glance at him. His jaw is tight. His hand is clenched under the tablecloth.

He’s not just resisting for himself.

He’s overwhelmed.

And I recognize it because I’ve lived it.

So I speak.

“Then how about a compromise?” I say calmly, cutting through the tension like a blade.

Everyone turns to me.

“Tetsuya’s right — we don’t know each other well enough. But that doesn’t mean we have to shut the door completely.”

My mother narrows her eyes. “Go on.”

“A trial engagement,” I explained. “Three months. That gives us time. To talk. To understand. To see if something real can happen.”

Mr. Hinami sits up straighter. “You’d be willing to try that?”

I nod. “I don’t believe in forced marriage. But I believe in giving things a chance.”

Tetsuya finally looks at me.

His eyes are surprised… but grateful.

My mother glances at my father. They nod.

Mrs. Hinami speaks for them all. “Then it’s decided. A trial engagement. Three months.”

“And at the end of that,” I say firmly, “you ask us again.”

Tetsuya exhales softly.

It’s not a relief, exactly.

But it’s something close.

And for now, that’s enough.

*

*

*

We don’t talk in the car.

Tetsuya opens the passenger door for me without a word, then circles around to the driver’s seat and starts the engine. The silence isn’t hostile — just… careful.

Calculated.

Like we’re both trying not to step on anything that might explode.

He drives us to a small café near campus. Not fancy. Not forced. Just neutral.

Safe.

We sit across from each other, drinks between us. I stir mine absently — iced matcha, too bitter. He orders black coffee and barely touches it.

I watch him from over the rim of my glass.

He’s not tense anymore, just unreadable.

And I hate how familiar that feels.

“So,” he says finally, “three months.”

I nod. “Three months.”

He studies the table for a moment. “I didn’t expect you to say that back there.”

“Neither did they,” I say, a little too dryly.

He smirks. Just slightly.

“Thank you,” he adds. “For… stepping in.”

“You looked like you were about to get strangled with your own tie.”

He chuckles under his breath, then goes quiet again.

We sit like that for a few minutes — sipping, thinking, not really making eye contact.

I break the silence first. “I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

He shrugs. “It’s not what either of us wanted.”

“I just thought giving it space would be better than forcing something neither of us believes in.”

He nods slowly. “Agreed.”

There’s another pause. Then:

“I don’t know much about you,” he says.

I raise a brow. “Besides the fact that I’m a convenient match?”

He winces a little. “Yeah… besides that.”

I lean back in my seat.

“I’m Masumi Aikawa. Twenty-one. Business and marketing double major. Former student council president. Black belt in pretending I’m fine when I’m not.”

Tetsuya actually laughs — a low, genuine sound. “Honest. I respect that.”

“What about you?”

“Tetsuya Hinami. Twenty-two. Pre-law. I used to want to be an architect, but my father convinced me the courtroom was a better blueprint. I like strong coffee. Bad at pretending.”

I nod. “Okay. We’ll get along fine as long as you don’t lie.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“And I won’t ask for more than you can give,” I say. “But I do expect you to show up. Try. Be real.”

He meets my eyes then.

And for the first time, I see something there that isn’t exhaustion.

“I can do that,” he says.

We walked back to the car without touch.

Without promises.

Without pretending.

But the silence feels different now.

Not cautious.

Just… quiet.

And somehow, that’s enough for day one.

*

*

*

I get back to my dorm and kick off my heels.

The moment the door shuts behind me, the silence presses in again — but not in a bad way. Just… silence.

My kind of silence.

I set my phone on the desk, pull my hair out of its ponytail, and stare at my reflection in the mirror.

The girl who stared down four adults at a formal table still looks like me. Just a little more tired.

But a little more steady, too.

Tetsuya surprised me.

Not because he was kind — I expected polite.

But because he listened.

And when I spoke, he didn’t argue or try to smooth things over. He just… heard me. No defense. No approval-seeking. Just presence.

It’s not the beginning of anything romantic.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

But I’ve had lonelier conversations with people I’ve known for years.

My phone buzzes once.

Tetsuya:

Thanks again for earlier. Today wasn’t as miserable as I thought it would be.

I stare at the message for a moment, then type back.

Me:

Likewise. You did alright for a guy being auctioned off in a family meeting.

Three dots blink, disappear, then return.

Tetsuya:

Guess we survived day one.

I smile — small, amused.

Not because of the words.

But because they feel real.

Tetsuya Hinami may not remember me from childhood…

But today, he saw me.

And for now, that’s enough.

*

*

*

I toss my phone onto the bed and let myself breathe — really breathe — for what feels like the first time today.

No lectures.

No expectations.

No pretending to be the perfect daughter or the perfect fiancée.

Just me.

I don’t know if three months will change anything.

I don’t know if it’s even supposed to.

But something tells me this isn’t going to go the way anyone planned.

And for once…

I think I’m okay with that.

Meanwhile…

Tetsuya leans back in the driver’s seat of his parked car, phone in hand.

The glow of Masumi’s last message still lights up the screen. He hasn’t replied again — doesn’t know what to say.

She’s… sharp. Collected.

Definitely not the kind of person he can lie to.

And that’s what scares him.

Not her.

But the way she sees through everything.

And doesn’t flinch.

He opens his notes app.

Start typing.

Things to remember:

– Don’t be fake

– Be honest (but not too honest)

– Masumi doesn’t do small talk

– She noticed when I was stressed

– She helped

He stares at the last line for a long time.

Then locks his phone and sets it facedown on the seat beside him.

Three months.

He can survive three months.

He just didn’t expect to actually want to try.

*

*

*

I should feel exhausted.

Today was… a lot.

The kind of day that usually leaves me lying awake at night, replaying every moment, every expression, every word I could’ve said better.

But for once, my mind isn’t racing.

It’s just… still.

Tetsuya Hinami wasn’t what I expected.

I thought he’d be cold. Arrogant. Dismissive.

Instead, he was quiet. Careful. A little guarded — but real.

And that matters.

Because I’m tired of pretending that relationships are supposed to look like chess games. Like image and leverage and strategy.

If I’m going to be part of this… whatever it is…

It has to be human.

I glance at my calendar.

Three months.

Ninety days.

That’s all.

And maybe it ends with both of us walking away.

Or maybe… it doesn’t.

Either way, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I have a say in what happens next.

I slide into bed, the soft hum of campus noise in the background. My phone buzzes one last time before I sleep.

Tetsuya:

I’ll see you soon, Aikawa.

I stare at the message.

Not "goodnight."

Not "sweet dreams."

But something real. Something simple.

Me:

You too, Hinami.

And that’s how it begins.

Not with fireworks.

Not with fate.

But with something small.

Something possible.

Something we chose.