Chapter 1: Return from London

Haruto Takeda stepped off the plane at Haneda Airport, inhaling the crisp Tokyo air with a mix of relief and apprehension. After seven years in London, he had grown used to the calm routine of clinics, research papers, and the occasional quiet walk along the Thames. Tokyo, with its relentless energy and familiar family expectations, felt like stepping onto another planet.

“Finally! You’re back, Captain Boring!” a loud, familiar voice bellowed.

Haruto turned, eyebrows raised, to see Kenji Sakamoto barreling toward him like a runaway train. Kenji was carrying three oversized suitcases, a small drone clutched in one hand, and what looked suspiciously like a deflated inflatable hat peeking out from the top of the pile.

“Hurry up, Kenji,” Haruto muttered, tugging at his jacket. “We still have to meet my parents.”

Kenji saluted with a wide grin. “Aye-aye, captain serious! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure no one mistakes you for a monk or something.”

Haruto groaned. Kenji had a talent for turning any simple moment into chaos. Already, a toddler in the crowd nearly toppled one of Kenji’s suitcases, prompting a squeal from the child’s mother and a very unamused glare from a security guard.

“Relax,” Kenji said cheerfully, catching the suitcase just in time. “A little chaos keeps life interesting!”

Haruto’s lips twitched. “You call this interesting?”

“Absolutely!” Kenji said, spinning in a half-circle, nearly knocking over a display of duty-free sake. “Just think—tomorrow you’re going to meet your potential bride, and I predict… total disaster.”

“Kenji,” Haruto warned.

“Oh, come on! I can already see it,” Kenji continued, whispering conspiratorially. “Spilled tea, runaway cat, parents clutching their pearls… this girl is going to be legendary.”

Haruto’s mother let out a sigh, adjusting her sleeve. “Just… behave, Kenji,” his father muttered.

The taxi ride to their hotel was a quiet contrast to the airport chaos. Haruto gazed out the window at the neon-lit streets, lost in thought. Seven years of living abroad had made him disciplined, orderly, and, some would say, painfully cautious. Meeting this girl, whose reputation for chaos apparently preceded her, made him uneasy in a way he hadn’t expected.

Kenji, however, seemed entirely unaffected by the gravity of family expectations. He hummed loudly, occasionally making faces out the window at passing street signs or loudly commenting on every convenience store they passed.

“Do you really think she’s that bad?” Haruto asked quietly.

Kenji smirked. “Oh, trust me. If her parents are nervous, it’s not just polite pre-meeting jitters. She’s wild, unpredictable… the kind of girl who makes a simple dinner feel like a battlefield.”

Haruto exhaled slowly, mentally preparing himself. “Alright… I’ll meet her. But I swear, Kenji, if you start any trouble—”

“Me? Trouble?” Kenji feigned innocence, pointing at himself with wide eyes. “Never! I’m perfectly harmless. You’re welcome, by the way, for letting you look respectable next to me. That’s my gift to you.”

Haruto didn’t respond, turning his gaze back to the city lights. Despite Kenji’s antics and the looming formal meeting, there was something about the unpredictability that… intrigued him. Perhaps life back home wouldn’t be as quiet or controlled as London. Perhaps a little chaos wasn’t so bad after all.

At the hotel, Haruto unpacked methodically, placing each item neatly in the drawers. Kenji, on the other hand, dumped his luggage onto the floor in a dramatic heap, laughing as a single sock landed on the chandelier.

“Kenji, why am I friends with you?” Haruto muttered.

“Because, dear Haruto, I make life fun. Admit it, you’re excited to meet her too,” Kenji said, nudging him playfully.

Haruto raised an eyebrow but didn’t deny it. Somehow, despite Kenji’s constant chaos and the tension of family expectations, he felt a strange flutter of anticipation.

Tomorrow, he would meet Sakura Fujimoto. A girl rumored to be a disaster in the most spectacular way.

And, against all his careful planning, Haruto found himself secretly… looking forward to it.