Chapter 2: My Fiancée, the Spy Mission, and the Angel in My Kitchen

Morning sunlight poured through the curtains, warming my face just enough to make me regret waking up.
It was my second day in Tokyo University — and somehow, my first day of living with a woman.
Not just any woman.
Ayumu Musashi.

The Ayumu Musashi.
Daughter of a billionaire. Beautiful. Graceful. And completely uninterested in me.

“Good morning,” she greeted flatly from the living room, wearing a plain white shirt and shorts. Even in casual clothes, she somehow looked like a magazine cover.

“Morning,” I replied, trying to sound normal while my brain screamed don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare.

She glanced toward the kitchen counter.

“You… can cook?”

“A little,” I said, flipping the eggs. Translation: I basically raised myself, so yes, I can cook for an entire village if needed.

“I didn’t expect someone like you to know how to handle a frying pan.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Nothing. Just… surprising.”

I served the food—fried rice with diced vegetables, a sunny-side-up egg, and a bit of soy sauce. Simple, but it smelled good.

She took one cautious bite.
And then another.
And then stopped talking completely.

“This… this is actually good.”

“Thanks, I try.”

“No, I mean—it’s really good. Like, unfairly good. How did you make rice taste like this?”

“It’s a secret recipe passed down through generations of hungry people.”

She almost smiled. Almost.

For a brief moment, I saw something change in her expression—her tone softer, her shoulders more relaxed.

“I’ve never eaten something like this before,” she said quietly. “It’s… simple, but warm.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t eat from golden plates all the time.”

“You’re assuming I use golden plates.”

“Am I wrong?”

She looked away, and I could swear she was holding back a laugh.

But then, her voice turned faint.

“Minato… can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You’re friends with Toji Kurayama, right? You sit next to him?”

I froze.
Ah. So this was what it was about.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Same department, same class. Why?”

“Can you… maybe tell me how he’s doing? Just… occasionally?”

I blinked.
Wait. Did I just get recruited as a spy?

“You’re asking me to… what, report on him?”

“No! Just—keep an eye on him. Please.”

“So basically, be your personal informant. Got it.”

“You don’t have to say it like that!”

She pouted. The rich, composed Ayumu Musashi… pouted.
And somehow, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Alright, alright. I’ll ‘keep an eye’ on him. But if I get caught, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.”

I sighed internally.
So much for romance — I was officially a spy in my own engagement.

Later that afternoon, my uncle arrived home early.
The moment he saw Ayumu standing in the kitchen, his eyes nearly fell out of his head.

“Good heavens… Minato, your fiancée is an angel!”

“She’s not my—”

“If this is what arranged marriage looks like, sign me up twice!”

“Uncle!”

He ignored me, of course, too busy bustling around.
In a sudden burst of enthusiasm, he threw open the refrigerator and started unloading ingredients like a man possessed.

“We’ll make dinner special tonight! I’ll get meat, vegetables, sake—everything! A man must feed his nephew’s goddess properly!”

Ayumu chuckled softly.
And I wanted to evaporate.

Night came faster than expected.
Ayumu had gone out, saying she was meeting “friends.”
Except I saw her messages on the table — an open phone with a karaoke location sent to “Toji.”

I stood by the window for a moment, watching the city lights.

“So that’s where you went, huh.”

Part of me wanted to be angry.
Another part just… didn’t know what to feel.

It wasn’t like I could stop her.
We were strangers bound by paper, not love.

I turned away, muttering to myself.

“Guess I’ll just wash the dishes instead of my emotions.”

Evening passed quietly, and I ended up watching TV with my uncle until he fell asleep mid-snore.

That was when my phone buzzed.

[Naoto: Big bro! I’m visiting Tokyo tomorrow! Can’t wait to see you!]

Oh no.

Naoto Kurosaki — my little sister.
Short blue hair, sharp tongue, and a level of curiosity that could burn down the city.

“Uncle,” I whispered. “Naoto’s coming tomorrow.”

“That’s great! She’ll get to meet your future wife!”

“Please don’t say that. And please, don’t tell her about Ayumu staying here.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’ll never let me live it down.”

My uncle smirked.

“Ahh, young love. You can’t hide it forever.”

“It’s not love! It’s a government assignment!”

“Same thing.”

I gave up arguing.
At this point, even the walls probably thought I was engaged for real.

Tomorrow was going to be chaos.
And deep down, I knew it — because nothing good ever started with my sister saying, “I can’t wait to see you.”