Chapter 1: The Perfect Match (That Wasn’t Perfect at All)

Morning arrived with the kind of brightness that made you wonder if the sun was mocking you.
Everywhere I looked, students were smiling — some chatting in groups, others nervously fixing their uniforms.
And me? I was just trying not to look like the guy who hadn’t made a single friend yet.

Tokyo University was enormous.
New faces. New life. New beginning.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself to ignore how out of place I felt.

“All new students, please gather in the main hall for orientation.”

The voice from the loudspeaker echoed across campus.
I sighed, adjusted my tie, and joined the sea of hopeful freshmen walking toward the hall.
Maybe this was going to be a boring introduction ceremony — the usual talk about discipline, grades, and dreams.

Yeah… right.

Because what I heard next was something no amount of coffee could have prepared me for.

“Starting this academic year,” the university chairman began, his tone calm and serious, “our institution will officially cooperate with the Japanese Government in implementing the newly approved National Marriage Program.”

For a moment, the entire hall went silent.
Then came the murmurs. Shocked gasps. Confused faces.

Marriage program? As in… actual marriage?

I blinked several times, hoping I misheard.
But the man continued, completely unfazed by the chaos he just unleashed.

“All students will be paired with a partner chosen by our compatibility system. Refusal to participate will result in the cancellation of your scholarship and removal from the graduation program.”

I swear, if someone dropped a pen at that moment, we all would’ve heard it.

“This has to be a prank…” I whispered to myself.
Except no one was laughing.

The announcements continued.
Names were being called one by one, like a never-ending attendance roll of doom.

“Kenta Nagoya — paired with Kushida Mitsuki.”
“Sakurako Ito — paired with Ren Hoshino.”

The crowd kept buzzing. Some people cheered, others groaned.
And me? I was silently praying not to be called.

“Please… not me. Please let the system forget I exist.”

Then, the inevitable happened.

“Minato Kurosaki — paired with Ayumu Musashi.”

The sound of my own name nearly gave me a heart attack.
The hall erupted with whispers.

“Wait, did he say Ayumu Musashi?”
“No way, that Ayumu Musashi?”

I followed their gaze, and there she was.
Long chestnut hair that shimmered under the lights, soft brown eyes that could silence a room — and a face that screamed rich, elegant, and way out of your league.

Rumor had it her father, Kanabe Musashi, owned half of Tokyo — including a private jet and a yacht.
Meanwhile, I could barely afford a decent umbrella.

She stepped forward, visibly annoyed.

“Excuse me, Chairman, there must be a mistake.”

The hall turned quiet again.

“I’m supposed to be paired with Toji Kurayama, not… whoever that is.”

A quiet chuckle escaped from somewhere behind me.
Yeah, I couldn’t even blame her for that reaction.

The Chairman adjusted his glasses, calm as ever.

“There’s no mistake, Miss Musashi. The system’s data is final. Your compatibility rate with Mr. Kurosaki is 98.4%.”

She clicked her tongue softly.

“Tch… of course. My father must’ve changed something again. That old man never listens.”

Even her complaints sounded expensive.

Soon after, the hall filled with chatter as everyone went off to meet their assigned partners.
Some people shook hands awkwardly, others exchanged contact numbers.
And me? I just stood there, wondering how my life turned into a government experiment.

Still, I gathered enough courage to approach her.

“You’re Ayumu Musashi, right? Nice to meet you.”

I held out my hand.
She didn’t even glance at it.

“Let’s get one thing straight.” Her tone was cold, precise. “We’re just partners for this program. Nothing more. Don’t misunderstand, okay?”

“Oh, good. Because I was just about to say the same thing,” I replied, forcing a smile that even I didn’t believe.

Somehow, that didn’t make her like me more.

By the time the first class began, I learned two things:

My partner hated the system, and by extension, me.

My life had officially turned into a romantic comedy I never auditioned for.

I majored in Agriculture, which was on the other side of campus.
Ayumu was in Literature — fitting for someone who probably spent her weekends reading poetry on a yacht.

I entered my first lecture and sat down near the window. The seat next to me was empty… until a calm voice asked,

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

I looked up.
Black hair, tidy uniform, polite smile.

“No, go ahead.”

He sat down, extended his hand.

“Toji Kurayama. Nice to meet you.”

Toji Kurayama.
Of course.

The guy Ayumu actually wanted.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or just drop my head on the desk.
But Toji seemed like a genuinely good person — easygoing, smart, and kind.

Maybe that’s why, for the first time since high school, I didn’t feel alone anymore.

When classes ended, the Chairman made one last announcement through the speakers.

“Starting tomorrow, all pairs will participate in the home exchange program. Each partner will spend one week living in the other’s home.”

The hall erupted again.
Ayumu’s shocked expression said it all.
Mine probably wasn’t much better.

By the end of the day, she left in a black car with a chauffeur waiting by the gate.
And me? I just walked home, watching the Tokyo sunset fade into gold.

When I got back, I told my uncle everything.
He laughed. Not a quiet laugh — the kind that fills a room.

“So, you’re getting a fiancée before your first lecture, huh? Guess I raised you well, Minato!”

“It’s not funny, Uncle. I’m doomed.”

He just waved his hand.

“Relax. I’ll clean up the guest room next door. Might as well make it look like a honeymoon suite.”

“Please don’t.”

He laughed harder.

That night, as I lay on my futon, I stared at the ceiling and sighed.
My first week of university had just begun.
And somehow, I already felt like I was in someone else’s love story.