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quatre


"Umenomiya's café, ten minutes."

"Natsume?" Without another word, that bloody bastard hangs up on me after leaving me with four words and not even a chance for me to greet him. At this moment, there's a short rap at my door and a nurse appears, clipboard in arm. She shoots me a sweet smile.

"Dr Nogi, Mrs Lee is waiting exam room number two."

The nurse awaits my reply as I stare at her, mind whirring. Natsume's words replay themselves in my head over and over again. Ten minutes. Natsume was never one who liked to be stood up. He gets what he wants. All. The. Freaking. Time.

But I can't possibly leave my job in such a short notice. Natsume may be a good friend but that doesn't mean I can just throw my job away for a little chit-chat in a café.

My fingers twirl a pen round and round, again and again.

Ah, screw him.

I get up from my seat and throw on the snow white doctor's coat. The nurse is still at the door as I send her a smile and gesture her to exit the room first.

"Lead the way."


After two more check-ups and one minor surgery, I step into Café de l'Amour almost two hours later than the ten-minute time period Natsume had set. I wouldn't have even bothered coming if it wasn't for six voicemails he left me.

Despite the fact that it's a Sunday where people are usually off work, the café is unusually empty with only an elderly couple and a couple of teenagers being the only customers. Of course, there is also Natsume who's sitting in a secluded booth all alone, sending me a deadly glare.

Nervously, I trudge over. Before I can even open my mouth to say 'hey' or to defend myself for not arriving ten minutes after his initial phone call, he casts a glance at his watch. "You're late."

"Sorry." Though to be honest, I don't feel very sorry myself. Why should I be? I had work. As I sit at the seat across him, I notice that there are three cups on the table. A small cup of coffee is placed in front of him while next to him is a vanilla mocha. Mikan's favourite.

As for the cup of tea, I furrow my eyebrows as I stare at it. Odd. Neither Mikan nor Natsume drinks tea.

"Save it. It's not me who you'll be apologising to."

As if on cue, I hear Mikan calling my name. The moment I turn around, my jaw drops as I see who's walking right beside her.

"No freaking way."

Clearly annoyed, Hotaru Imai glowers at me. For once, she's actually displaying emotions on her face. A very annoyed one. Which can only mean one thing:

She's very, very pissed.

The moment she's close enough, I catch a glimpse of that bloody bazooka of hers one more time. Before I can react, she aims and fires it at me, once again sending a migraine straight to my brain.

"You're late."

Rubbing my bruised forehead, I gulp and mumble, "I've heard." Mikan who slips into the seat beside Natsume sends me a pitiful glance.

"I think I change my mind," the Ice Queen grumbles as she sits beside me. I scoot to a corner before realizing that I'm trapped.

No place to hide, nowhere to escape.

Lord, have mercy on my soul.

"Don't even think about it." Natsume removes his glare from me before setting it on Imai. "A deal's a deal."

Having recovered from the hit, I stare at them, mildly puzzled and annoyed at the fact that I seem to be the only one clueless about their conversation. "Guys, what is going on?"

Natsume leans back and places a casual arm around Mikan's shoulder. I notice Imai cringing subtly upon seeing this small action. Natsume smirks.

"Tell him, Imai."

"I told you I've changed my mind."

"And I said don't even think about it."

As they engage in a fierce stare battle, amethysts clashing with rubies, I cast a hopeful glance at Mikan. She sighs and shakes her head in hopelessness. From her tote, she pulls out a rolled up magazine before handing it to me. I think I've dislocated my jaw when my eyes land on it.

Splat right on the front page is a blown up picture of Imai and I in front of the Imperial Dining, my arms wrapped around her. The photo was taken from behind so that my face is not visible while Imai's is. But it's the words printed across the photo that makes me churn.

In bold, red writing are the words 'Million Dollar Ice Queen Spotted With Unknown Man: Has the cold-hearted Ice Queen found her match? Details on page 14.'

"What the hell is this?"

"Something that will probably save you some money," replies Natsume.

Barely able to breath, I stare at him with what I assume is an absolute baffled look. "What?"

"Nothing, just that the whole world is under the impression that Imai has found herself a boyfriend after that 'heroic' stunt you pulled yesterday. Her parents, especially her mother, are so happy for her that they're coming back to Japan from Europe, just to see this boyfriend of hers."

"And why are you telling me all this?" It's pathetic to say that my voice is almost a high-pitch squeak.

"You dragged me into this, Nogi. Technically, it's your fault."

My eyes move from Imai, to Natsume then back to Imai. "And?"

"Ruka," Mikan grips onto my hand, pulling me back into sanity and slightly calms my nerves. I stare at her, eyes widened with fear and shock. "Hotaru's mother is a bit—shall we say—overly enthusiastic. If Hotaru tells her that it was all just a misunderstanding, she will be setting up blind dates for Hotaru and—well—Hotaru won't really be happy about it."

I continue to stare, urging her to go on. "And?"

"So can you please," she pauses and flashes her pearly whites, "play along?"

Play along, as in play the part of Imai's boyfriend. Play along, as in be the Ice Queen's lover in the public and her mother's eyes. Play along, as in needing to spend practically all my free time 'dating' the devil's spawn.

Oh, hell no!

I shake my head furiously. "No. Oh no. I refuse to do it! Not in a million years!"

"But for eight million yen?"

Natsume's question caught me off guard and I stare at him, puzzled. "What?"

He takes out a piece of folded paper from his coat pocket before handing it to me. I unfold it and read. It's a contract saying that if I had agreed to play the part of Imai's boyfriend, all my previous debts with Imai will be voided. Completely. I gape at Natsume, then Mikan, then the Ice Queen, then Natsume again and then the Ice Queen.

"You're kidding."

"I do not joke, Nogi."

"You're serious?"

"Always."

"I play pretend and I won't have to pay you a single cent? That simple?"

"I assume that you are literate."

I think things through for a moment before hesitantly asking, "And if I don't agree to this?"

"Then perhaps I might consider suing you for defamation. And you will still have to pay me eight million yen."

"You're kidding."

Imai shoots me a glare, even more annoyed than before. "You're clearly dim-witted."

"You can't sue me!"

She cocks an eyebrow, challenging me, taunting me. "Would you like to bet on that?"

I shoot Natsume and Mikan pleading glances but Natsume replies with a shrug while Mikan returns with an apologetic smile. "Look on the bright side," she says, "at least you'll no longer be in debt."

Ah Mikan, always the optimist.

I grimace at the Ice Queen before gingerly picking up the contract. "I guess I don't have a choice now, do I?"

"You don't," she replies curtly, "because you were never given one."


Have you ever come across that awful feeling you have when you're so agitated and nothing in the world feels right? You see a child laughing as he runs around in innocent happiness and you find it annoying; you notice a girl's skirt that is just a few inches above her kneeand you're ready to lecture her on wearing proper clothes; you spot a guy wearing a necklace with a skull pendant and your mind instantly thinks he's arebel thus society's failure.

Yeah, memorising stuff can be annoying and a pain in the ass, but memorising facts about Hotaru Imai and with her sitting in front of you, making snide comments every ten seconds can seriously rile you up and get the worst out of you. It doesn't help that there's also her assistant who is the one quizzing you.

It also doesn't help when your best friend has decided to bail on you for her girlfriend the moment the assistant arrives and the quiz begins.

Not cool. Not cool at all.

"Birthday."

"27th October 1984."

Imai raises an eyebrow. I stutter. "26th?"

She whacks me across the head. "It's the 25th."

"Likes and dislikes. Food."

"She likes seafood, especially crab roe; hates anything sweet, especially chocolate. She drinks tea and water only, tea in to be boiled before cooled to 40 degree Celsius while her water should only be around room temperature which is 20 to 25 degree Celsius. She dislikes coffee, hot chocolate, coke or any other type of carbonated drink."

"Movies."

"Anything sci-fi, no chick flicks."

Hotaru ceases her tappings on her phone. She doesn't look up from the screen nor raises an eyebrow but the action is enough to tell me there's something wrong. Her assistant probes on, "And?"

I blink at her. "A-a-and?"

"You fool." Imai mutters under her breath. This seems to have done it because faintly, I can hear something at the back of my head snapped.

I scoff and throw my hands into the air. "Well, I'm sorry," sarcasm very much intended, "that I am not your fan who finds memorising facts about you fun and interesting. I'm so sorry that I can only bother to remember half of something so useful so I can't give you a satisfactory answer to your questions. I'm sorry that my brain can't function really well and pay all attention to Hotaru Imai 101."

As I breathe heavily after my outburst, I glare at her. Though I may seem brave on the outside, to be truthfully honest, I am currently very, very close to wetting my pants.

But that seriously felt good.

Imai's assistant is trembling in fear, fear for my safety, perhaps? The Ice Queen herself merely stares at me, unaffected. She seems to be taking insults very calmly. Is that even a good thing?

A smirk slowly spreads across her face. But surprisingly, Hotaru doesn't make a snide comment nor any move to physically abuse me. She returns her attention to her phone and begins tapping on the screen once more.

"Seems like you're not that much of a wimp after all."

Her sentence causes me to do a double take. Was that a compliment? Even her assistant is surprised as she gawks at Imai. Seeming to have noticed the eyes on her, she glances up at us innocently. "Get back to work, you have fifty more minutes."


"Do you have a suit?" The question came to me when we're standing outside Anna's café, waiting for Imai's ride to swing by.

A bit surprised by the question, my brain fails to conjure up an answer immediately. "Um, yes. I have three at home."

She tilts her head towards the sky, gazing at it before looking back at her watch. "No time," she mutters. The Bentley swings by and her chauffeur gets out from the car to open the door for her. She gets in immediately. Her assistant who's standing behind me extends a hand towards the car, gesturing me to get in also. Reluctantly, I do and the door shuts behind me with an unexpected bam.

"Where to, Miss Imai?" The chauffer asks. Imai however, doesn't answer. Instead, she dials a number on her phone before placing it to her ear. "Mr Rochsher, I'll be over in ten minutes. Thank you." When she hangs up, the driver had already started driving.

As the car moves smoothly across the roads, I allow myself to indulge in the comfort offered by the exclusive car and close my eyes, resting my mind, even if it's only for a short moment. Because I know that for a long time, rest won't come as easily as I hope it will.


"You see, Miss Imai, that this suit fits this young man over here, perfectly." The pudgy English tailor called Mr Rochsher circles me and occasionally pats a part of my body to emphasis his point as he explains to Imai about the coat in jargons I will never understand. "And as you can see, the cut of this suit and the waistcoat makes Mr Nogi here—who's a bit too skinny—look buffer. As for the cherry on top," Mr Rochsher walks toward a rack where all sorts of colourful ties are displayed. He picks three of them, blue in different shades. "I would recommend blue ties as it brings out the colour and glow of his eyes."

Her chin is supported by a thumb as she scans me from head to toe. "Is this the best fit you can find for him?"

Mr Rochsher purses him lips. "So far, this is the best suit I can offer you in such a short notice, though I won't say it's perfect since no two bodies are completely alike. If you'd like something that really fits Mr Nogi here perfectly, I would have to take down his measurements and make him a new set of clothing, though that will at least take a day to complete."

"Alright, fine. You do that and he'll take this suit and those three ties. He'll be paying."

"Me?" I piped, staring at Imai incredulously. "Am I to pay for this?" Imai had decided that I should get a new suit before meeting her family and I'm not surprised that she had brought me to one of the most expensive tailor in town, with its grand-looking store front and expensive wooden wall panelling in its interior.

"Well of course," she makes it sounds like it a natural fact, "you don't expect me to pay for your clothes, do you?"

The laugh that escapes my throat is hollow. I shrug off the grey coat, allowing it to drop onto the floor—which causes Mr Rochsher to gasp—and undo the cufflinks. "Well I'm not buying this because I don't like it."

Mr Rochsher's fat cheeks redden when he hears what I've said. "Excuse me? Do you know that you are wearing a suit that is made by one the world's finest tailors? Everyone craves for one of my suits but that doesn't mean they can get it! Fine!" Mr Rochsher picks up the discarded suit off the floor gingerly. He turns towards Imai. "Miss Imai, I respect you, but I just cannot sell my suits to someone who doesn't appreciate them. My suits are like my children, I wish to see that they belong to someone who will appreciate them and take care of them. And also someone who are worthy enough to wear them."

Imai presses her fingers to her forehead and sighs deeply. With a click of her tongue, she grumbles, "Fine, I'll pay for them. I have the money, Rochsher."

Mr Rochsher snaps angrily, "It's not about the money, Miss Imai. I just can't allow my suits to be worn by people who are unworthy of wearing them."

"Mr Rochsher, I intend to gift them to another friend. I assure you that he will not be Mr Nogi." Obviously, she's lying. I really how easy it is for her to lie. People say that when someone lies, there are small signs like the eyes looking to the left or a little hardening of the jaw. But Imai, after scrutinizing her so carefully, I can't even spot the smallest hint. She makes lying look like it's as easy as breathing.

Mr Roscher eyes her warily for a moment. "Okay, then. I believe you, Miss Imai." Mr Rochsher turns back to look at me with contempt. "Get out of those clothes; you don't even deserve to touch them! leave my store immediately"

Back in the car, Imai is looking out the window when she says, "You'll be paying me back for the clothes."

I scoff. "As if. You can keep them or give them to a friend, I don't want them and I sure as hell won't be paying such a ridiculous price for them." I turn my face to the other side, facing away from Imai and stare out into the window, watching the buildings and people pass us by.

"You will wear them when you meet my parents. I will not allow my suitor to meet my parents in such unseemly clothes."

I look at my clothes, a grey shirt, a green tie, slacks and loafers. "There's nothing unseemly about my clothes. And I am not your suitor. I'm just someone who's force to play the part."

Imai leans over to me. I can feel her breath on my lips and I stare into her clear purple eyes, only to see my intimidated reflection. "Then play your part well."

I force myself to breathe normally, which is not an easy job with Imai's face being so close. "What if I don't want to?"

With a smirk, she reclines back onto her seat, legs crossed. "Well then, I guess I'll be waiting for my eight million yen and you'll be seeing a lawyer's letter very soon. Not to mention, you'll be paying me a compensation for breach of contract."

I whip my head to look at her. "What?"

From her briefcase, she extracts the contract which I had signed earlier, agreeing to play the part of her boyfriend and also that the debt eight million yen will be null and void.

"It's stated in this contract which you've signed." She hands the contract towards me. "Want to take a look?"

I give her a dirty look, knowing very well that she is not lying and also cursing myself for getting into such troubles.

"I hate you."

She smiles, though it so wide that it actually causes her to narrow her eyes, it's nowhere near genuine. She's merely mocking me. "Guess what," she murmurs and leans her head back to the headrest, "I don't really care."


The car ride was approximately forty-five minutes before we arrive at the Imai Tower. Looking out from the window, I'm amazed at the majestic high-rise building that was only build with nothing but simple things like cement, sand, metal and glass. Yet couple these simple items with the amazing human mind and intelligence, one will actually be able to build something this huge and sturdy, practically tall enough to touch the sky.

I know that this is a pretty common sight in the 21st century and in a metropolis like Tokyo, but I'm still allowed to be in a state of awe, aren't I?

The car stops at the front entrance where only one or two people in their neatly pressed business suits can be seen rushing about even though it is a Sunday. Imai's assistant gets out of the car but not us. I turn to the woman next to me.

"Are we not getting down?"

Eyes trained onto a couple of documents in her hand, she replies tersely, "Not here."

The Bentley rounds the building and drives to a more secluded part of it. We stop in front of a large metal gate. I watch as the chauffeur drives towards a guard house, where a uniformed guard is on duty. After checking the chauffeurs ID, the gates swing open slowly, granting us admittance.

We are driven past the gates and after a minute, the car stops in front of a modest looking front door. The chauffeur gets out from the car before opening the back passenger door to let us out. As I get out of the car, I study my surroundings.

The place is strangely quiet. There's a large fountain not far away from us and there are plenty of trimmed bushes planted around. Right next to the door is a gold plate with the words 'Imai Residences' carved onto it.

"You live here?" Imai gives me no answer. From her pocket, she takes out a card before tapping lightly onto an ID card scanner. She then punches in a series of numbers and there's a beep. Imai pulls the glass door open before entering it, letting the door shut behind her. Startled, I hold the door before it can be shut tight and let myself into a large hallway showered in warm lighting and plush carpeting. There's an elevator right at the other end of the hallway. I follow Imai as she steps towards it. But before she even did anything, the doors to the elevators open automatically. She gets into it and so do I.

Once we're inside, I let out a shrill whistle. "Nice." I comment. Once again, Imai is quiet as she presses a button. That's when I notice something, despite the height of the building, there are only four buttons in the elevator: B, L, O, P.

"Blop?"

Imai casts me a sideway glance. "It stands for Basement, Lobby, Office and Penthouse, you idiot."

The rest of the thirty second elevator ride is quiet. There's not even any elevator music. Finally, the doors open and I'm blown away by what I see.


HAPPY NEW YEAR!