Today's lunch tasted like nothing to Hayasaka Ai.
The rice was fluffy, the miso soup was rich, and the grilled fish was perfectly seasoned—yet she couldn't taste a single bite. Her chopsticks moved mechanically, the food vanishing bite after bite, but her mind was elsewhere.
At first, she had planned for their lunch to be full of subtle gestures: witty quips, meaningful eye contact, a delicate brushing of shoulders. But now, none of that mattered. Her plan—crafted with the precision of a military operation—had collapsed like a house of cards.
As someone who prided herself on being two steps ahead, Hayasaka Ai had thoroughly investigated Yukima Azuma. She left no stone unturned. She had studied his habits, interests, speech patterns, psychological tendencies—everything. After yesterday's interaction, she was confident. She believed she had him figured out.
She had even developed a multi-layered plan, with each interaction building upon the last. A strategy of slow-burn seduction, designed to escalate naturally. And yet…
None of the steps connected.
It was as if the progress bar for conquering Yukima Azuma flickered wildly—full one moment, vanished the next. His behavior defied her expectations, breaking her rhythm. He smiled when she expected him to look confused, remained indifferent when he should've blushed, and teased her just when she was trying to stay composed.
Fuming, she stabbed a piece of grilled daikon and shoved it into her mouth with unnecessary force.
Meanwhile, Yukima Azuma sat quietly beside her, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched her flustered fury.
She was trying too hard. That much was obvious.
Her intentions—normally well-masked—were practically written on her forehead. But the funny thing was… despite her overcalculated approach, it still tugged at something inside him. He had to admit, the effort was charming in its own way.
After all, in the realm of seduction, information is power, and Hayasaka Ai had done her homework. If Yukima Azuma didn't know better… if he had been the one interacting with her yesterday… he might've actually fallen for it.
But there was no "if."
Yukima Azuma did know better.
He knew the maid before him wasn't a sweet girl named Hasaka. She was Hayasaka Ai, the cunning actress-maid, a girl who wore her masks like armor.
And more importantly—he hadn't even been the one she met yesterday. That had been Miyamizu Mitsuha, the innocent, warm-hearted girl from Itomori. Hayasaka's plan had been built around that version of him.
So naturally, her traps didn't work.
Even more ironically, her entire scheme had backfired. Her obsession with control had become her weakness. She was supposed to be the player. But now, her emotions were erratic, her moves uncoordinated.
In chess, a shaky mind spells defeat.
Lunch ended in silence.
Hayasaka Ai eventually composed herself and shot him a glance. Despite the disarray in her heart, she hadn't given up. Her instincts told her she had made progress, however small. The plan might be broken, but as long as the conquest percentage was rising, she had no reason to retreat.
Time for the next phase.
"Azuma-kun, want to take a walk through the bookstore?" she asked, her voice sugar-coated but slightly tense. "Let's look at some light novels together."
"Sure," Yukima replied with his usual serenity.
Scene: The Bookstore in Ginza
The bookstore was massive, elegant, and quiet—the kind of place that soothed the soul. It had floor-to-ceiling shelves, a built-in café, and plush seating areas perfect for losing oneself in a story.
Hayasaka picked up a volume of Saekano—a title she knew only from brief internet skimming. Truth be told, she had neither the time nor the luxury to read light novels. Her duties as Kaguya's maid left little time for indulgences. Most of her downtime went to mindless videos or long baths to ease her fatigue.
This wasn't about interest. It was about optics.
She needed Yukima Azuma to see her as an "ordinary girl." The type who giggled over teen romances and swooned over fictional crushes.
Yukima, meanwhile, chose The Legend of the Phantom Blade—a fantasy series that didn't exist in his last life. It intrigued him. He cracked it open and started to read.
"Hasaka, are you usually this busy?" he asked without looking up.
"Yeah. My school's really intense. Private academy life, you know? Ten hours of study a day, and that's on a good day."
"Ten hours… wow. So today's a rare break?"
"Mm-hmm!" she nodded, her voice light and cheerful. "Spending it with Azuma-kun is the best!"
This time, her words weren't completely fabricated. Beneath her layers of deception, there was a kernel of sincerity. The life of a Shinomiya maid wasn't glamorous—it was brutal. She'd pulled 24-hour shifts before, from gala preparation to midnight protection detail. This break wasn't just rare. It was priceless.
Then, a sudden realization hit her like a slap.
Every break she'd taken this year… had been spent with Yukima Azuma.
She gritted her teeth. That debt would be repaid a hundredfold.
"Vengeance will be mine!"
"I'm the same," Yukima said softly, eyes still on the page. "Always too busy. Being able to spend time with Hasaka like this… it's really nice."
His tone was so gentle, almost wistful. It caught Hayasaka off guard.
She paused. For a moment, her act slipped. He wasn't just some mysterious genius CEO. He was a human being. Was he… tired too?
For the briefest second, her heart softened. But she caught herself, masking her thoughts behind a yawn.
"I think I'll nap for a bit," she said, resting her head on the table.
It was a calculated move.
She knew exactly what she was doing—setting a trap.
If she pretended to fall asleep, defenseless, and Yukima stayed beside her like a true gentleman, it would create the perfect romantic image: "He stayed by my side the whole time…"
If she woke up and pretended to be touched, even bashful, she could transition smoothly into a heartfelt confession. The lines between "friends" and "lovers" would blur.
All according to keikaku.
Smiling inwardly, she allowed her breathing to slow. She half-opened one eye.
Yukima Azuma hadn't moved.
Still sitting. Still reading.
She almost groaned in frustration.
Did he even like her?
Was the hand-holding at the theater just a fluke? Would her confession fail?
Then—
She heard the soft rustle of a page closing.
His gaze turned toward her.
She shut her eyes completely, feigning peaceful sleep.
Then, something warm and tender brushed her cheek.
Her breath hitched.
He touched her.
Her mind spun.
He wasn't supposed to cross the line!
That was her job!
Then he spoke.
"Are you really asleep… Looks like your daily work must be very tough, huh?"
His voice was heartbreakingly gentle. The kind of voice that would send shivers down any girl's spine.
She froze.
"Work?"
Why would he mention work?
Didn't she say she was just a student?
Her stomach tightened.
Then, he continued.
"Hayasaka, you've worked hard. Just sleep peacefully."
Panic.
How did he know?
She had maintained her Hasaka disguise flawlessly—down to the tone, posture, vocabulary.
So when…?
Her fingers curled tight enough to turn white.
Then came the words that shattered her world:
"I wish the person dating me was Hayasaka Ai, not Hasaka."
"At the Shinomiya house, you must have suffered a lot, huh?"
"Having to live behind all those layers of masks every day must be exhausting."
"You're clearly a young lady of the Hayasaka family… why must you serve instead of live?"
"Hayasaka Ai, I like you."
"I will take you away from the Shinomiya family. No matter how difficult it is. No matter how high the walls."
"You, and the entire Hayasaka family—I will save you. I promise."
Her breath shattered.
Every word struck her like a thunderclap.
This was no longer a game of conquest.
Somewhere along the line, the hunter had become the hunted. The player had become the played. The one controlling the board…
Wasn't her anymore.