I Married My Childhood School Crush for a Day to Avoid the Single Tax, but My Wife Has Been Acting Strange Lately - Chapter 8

The sound of the intercom echoed through the room. I held my breath and stared at the monitor.

There was no mistake; it was Kamikaze-senpai. He was wearing a suit, his messy hair glowing faintly under the evening sun, his shadow stretching long across the ground.

His eyes looked as if they were staring straight at me through the screen. A cold sweat ran down my back. Why is he here?

How did he even find my address?

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, and my throat felt dry. Shouta-kun looked at me with concern.

“Riona… are you okay?”

I gave a small nod, but my body was frozen. The intercom rang again.

After pressing it several times, he finally seemed to give up. He took something out of his pocket. It was a white envelope, and I pushed it into the mailbox.

Then, with his shoulders slumped, he walked away.

Only when his figure disappeared from the monitor did I finally breathe again.

My knees trembled, and I sank heavily onto the sofa. The tension that had held me snapped, leaving my body heavy. Shouta-kun came closer and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Riona, what happened? Who is that man…”

I took a deep breath and forced out my words.

“I’m sorry. The reason I was in such a hurry to get married… It’s because of him.”

Shouta-kun’s eyes were soft, silently urging me to continue. I slowly began to speak about my past.

The memories I had locked away deep inside began to pour out, breaking free like a flood.

For someone like me, who had always lived rationally, this kind of emotional confession was rare.

But right now, I felt I had to tell him. Because if it were him, he would understand.

◇

When I finished job hunting and got accepted into a top company, I was filled with a sense of achievement.

All my hard work during college had finally paid off, earning credits efficiently and completing internships.

On the day of the entrance ceremony, the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, as if celebrating a new beginning.

The hall was filled with the soft scent of flowers, and rows of new employees stood neatly in their suits.

As I listened to the president’s speech, I was already calculating my future career path in my head.

My fellow recruits were cheerful, and the training period was fun. In the conference room at the training center, we repeated team-building workshops over and over.

During group discussions, everyone shared their opinions freely, and somehow, I always ended up leading the group.

At lunch, I’d eat sandwiches in the company cafeteria with the other girls from my team, talking about our dreams for the future.

“Riona will probably get promoted in no time.”

Back then, I was full of hope.

On the last day of training, we took pictures together at the farewell party.

Champagne bubbles sparkled in our glasses, and laughter echoed around the room.

Everything was going just as I had planned.

After six months of training, I was assigned to a department. The Data Analysis Team. It seemed like the perfect fit for my skills.

On my first morning, I sat at my desk and greeted my new teammates.

The company was impressive, but the office felt a little dusty, and the fluorescent lights gave off a cold white glow.

That’s when I saw him. Kamikaze Shintarou.

He was one year older than me and was assigned as my direct supervisor.

His hair was messy, his shirt dull and wrinkled.

He looked gloomy, without a trace of charm.

My first impression of him was simple. Just a boring man.

“Nice to meet you, Riona-chan.”

His voice was low, and his eyes lingered on me a little longer than I liked.

That look bothered me, but I focused on my work.

At first, everything was normal.

He gave me instructions, taught me data processing tips, and we shared ideas during meetings.

In the conference room, I took notes as he explained things over the spread of documents on the table.

The department’s atmosphere wasn’t bad, and the other seniors were kind.

I even enjoyed our team lunches at the café nearby, ordering coffee at the counter and chatting by the window.

“Riona, you’re really talented.”

The first half of my first year in the company was still peaceful.

It was a few months after my assignment when I started to notice something. Kamikaze-senpai’s eyes lingered on me a little too long.

During meetings, whenever I spoke, his gaze followed me. While I worked at my desk, I could feel someone standing behind me.

When I turned around, he was there, pretending to use the copy machine while his eyes quietly watched me.

At first, I thought it was just a coincidence. But it kept happening, again and again.

Soon, I began seeing him on my morning commute. In the crowded train, he was always in the same car. Our eyes would meet, and his gaze clung to me.

On the way home, I felt his presence behind me on the street between the office and the station.

Under the streetlights, our footsteps matched in rhythm. It no longer felt like a coincidence.

One day, at the office, I found my locker slightly open.

When I checked inside, the position of my handkerchief was different. Had someone touched it? I told myself it was just my imagination, but the unease stayed.

Toward the end of that first year, anonymous notes began to appear on my desk.

“Riona-chan, your skirt looks lovely today.”

The paper was crumpled, and I could still smell the ink.

I threw it away, but the next day, there was another.

“I was happy to see your smile at the café during lunch.”

Someone was watching me.

The thought made me sick.

I tried to stay calm and began collecting evidence, keeping the notes and writing down the dates.

By my second year, things had gotten worse.

Messages started arriving on my phone from an unknown number.

“Riona-chan, you looked lonely drinking by yourself last night.”

Attached was a photo of me, holding a glass at a bar from behind.

Who took it?

My whole body started trembling.

After that, the stalking became more open.

On my way home from the supermarket one evening, he suddenly appeared.

“Riona-chan, are you shopping? Do you want me to help?”

His breath was close, and there was a strange light in his eyes.

I hurried away, but when I got home, there was a letter in my mailbox.

“The light from your room looks beautiful tonight.”

Inside the envelope was a photo of my window.

The picture had been taken through a small gap in the curtains, showing part of my room.

It was a hidden photo; someone had been watching me.

After that, I couldn’t sleep at night.

His face started to appear in my dreams.

At the office and during meetings, his foot would touch mine under the table.

Our shoes would brush, his toe hitting my heel.

It was no accident.

Then, one day, I got an anonymous email on my work computer.

“Riona-chan, I love the sound of your typing.”

Attached was a short video.

A close-up of my hands on the keyboard.

A hidden camera?

When I checked my desk, I found a tiny lens under the keyboard.

My hands were shaking as I pulled it out and threw it away.

The fear made it hard to eat.

I lost weight, and the reflection in the mirror looked pale and thin.

By my third year, things had gotten even worse.

It wasn’t just stalking anymore; it had become a real threat.

I started noticing signs that someone had entered my apartment.

One night, when I came home, the door lock felt loose.

Inside, the furniture was slightly out of place.

My bed sheets were messed up.

My drawer was open where I kept my underwear.

Someone had been inside.

Sick to my stomach, I went to the police.

But they only said,

“Without proof, there’s not much we can do…”

The next morning, a message arrived on my phone.

“Riona-chan, your bed was so soft.”

Attached was a picture of my bed, taken from inside the room.

He had broken in.

My heart nearly stopped.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

I curled up on the sofa while shaking.

At work, Kamikaze-senpai’s eyes grew wilder every day.

After a meeting, he brushed up against me in a narrow hallway.

“Riona-chan, you understand how I feel, right?”

His breath touched my ear. I wanted to vomit.

I pulled away and ran, but I could still feel his hand on me.

Another day, when I came home, there was a strange smell in the room.

In the kitchen trash can, I found rotten food.

My old lunch box was there again, the one I had thrown away.

The stalking had turned into psychological torture.

I kept losing weight. I couldn’t focus at work.

I told one of my coworkers about it, but all they said was, “Why don’t you talk to the police about it?”

No one really believed me.

I finally reached my limit and decided to report it to my boss.

“I’m being stalked.”

In the meeting room, I laid out all the evidence.

The notes, the messages, the photos, the videos, and proof that someone had entered my home.

My boss looked serious, but his expression stayed vague.

“I understand. I’ll check with Kamikaze about it.”

The result came back. A strict warning. That was all.

Why? Later, a coworker told me.

“Kamikaze is the president’s nephew. That’s why he’s protected.”

My heart went cold. The president’s family…

Was the company covering it up?

The thought crushed me.

I went to Human Resources to report it again.

In a small meeting room, I explained everything in detail.

The HR officer looked sympathetic but said, “I’m sorry, but the evidence isn’t strong enough…”

In the end, nothing changed.

It was all so inefficient. So unfair.

That night, I cried alone in my apartment.

That was when the idea of marriage first came to me.

The new single tax was increasing, and marriage came with benefits.

I looked at it logically, in terms of gain and loss, and posted it on a message board.

That’s how I met Shouta-kun. He became my one bit of hope.

And now, this.

How Kamikaze-senpai found my address… Maybe through the company database, or maybe he followed me again.

◇

When I finished talking, I looked at Shouta-kun’s face. His eyes were gentle.

“You’ve been through so much… From now on, I’ll protect you.”

Those words melted something inside me.

Even though our marriage was fake, the warmth in his voice felt real.

We sat close together on the sofa.

The scent of tea filled the room.

I had a feeling that something between us was beginning to change.