I Will Do Everything In My Power To Bring Happiness To The Enchanting Beauty Who Can No Longer Smile. - Chapter 56: The First Trump Card

The First Trump Card

We arrived at Tsubame’s house and confirmed her mother was safe. From around midday, someone believed to be Arisaki’s associate had come by, insisting that Tsubame had to comply—and they hadn’t even allowed her time to drink. Her voice was hoarse.

Thankfully, no violence occurred—if one can call that “luck.”

We then gathered in the living room.

“Before we begin, let’s introduce ourselves properly—this is your first time meeting the two of them.”

It was indeed the first time Shirao and Se-chan were meeting Tsubame’s mother and Usui-san.

“I’m Usui Rinka. I manage Sakakibara Tsubame.”

“I’m Sakakibara Sakura, Tsubame’s mother. I’ve heard a lot about both of you from her.”

“…Um, pleased to meet you… I’m Haiguchi Shirao.”

“W-Welcome! I’m Kito Seri—please call me Se-chan!”

“I was fine until just now… we’re both really shy.”

“Don’t worry, Tsubame told me about that.”

Usui-san smiled gently—a relief, since although she and Tsubame’s mother seemed kind and caring, they both had strong personalities.

“I know how kind you are, even if you’re shy.”

“When did you arrive, Usui-san?”

“Just a minute before I joined the conversation—I ran to get here, so I was just adjusting my breath and appearance. People like that often delight in picking fights.”

“…Yeah. They certainly seemed like that.”

Usui-san must have encountered people like Arisaki before. That’s why Tsubame wanted to go through her and her mother, rather than her office.

When we had thought through that, Usui-san surveyed us all.

“Now that we’ve introduced ourselves, unless there are any questions, shall we discuss what happened?”

“No questions.”

Tsubame looked around, confirming. Then Usui-san began:

“Let’s align on what we know so far. First, in the nature park, a man in a suit appeared. Then, near the house, a self-proclaimed diplomat named Arisaki Enji approached Tsubame with a letter.”

The letter was an invitation to a foreign royal birthday party—with an expectation she marry the crown prince. It threatened that if she refused (i.e., declines the party or the marriage), problems would remain unresolved—perhaps escalating into diplomatic issues.

“He relayed everything he said to you, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

Usui-san listened in growing disbelief. Tsubame’s mother was speechless, then closed her eyes in distress.

“…At such a difficult time, I—”

“It’s okay, Mom. You were here with us.”

With kindness in her voice, Tsubame rose and held her mother close.

“I may not know everything, but I know how hard you both fought to send him away.”

“…Tsubame…”

“Thank you—for everything, both of you. Usui-san, please take care of yourself; I worry you might overwork.”

“I’m okay. Since I collapsed last busy season, I’ve learned my limits.”

Tsubame looked uneasy at that.

“…I just don’t want it to come at the cost of your own health. But I can’t say no—you’ve fought so hard for me.”

“Children need a bit of selfishness, especially someone like you who always works hard. But I understand your concern; I’ll try not to pull any more all-nighters.”

Usui-san smiled, and Tsubame visibly relaxed. As they embraced, Tsubame slipped away and addressed us:

“Shall we continue?”

Everyone grew serious, and Usui-san raised two fingers:

“There are two issues we must resolve.”

“Two?”

Tsubame tilted her head, and Usui-san continued with a grave expression:

“First, the urgent issue: that Arisaki man. Leave him to me.”

“…Can you handle it? I know you’re capable, but he’s a diplomat, tied to a foreign crown prince.”

I echoed her concern—but Usui-san nodded firmly:

“It’ll be tough, but there’s a vulnerability. I’ll negotiate with my superiors—this is a breach of contract. Disclosing confidential personal data of a model.”

Tsubame’s eyes widened at that—and with concern.

“Usui-san… is your position at the company safe? They wouldn’t put a target on you because of me?”

“Don’t worry. Protecting you is part of my job. And a breach is a breach—I’m not one to hesitate.”

Usui-san’s calm smile reminded me of Tsubame’s mother’s assurance.

“We could go through lawyers, but that might only end in fines or you quitting. I don’t think that would stop him. That’s why I want to use a contact I trust.”

“A contact?”

“Yes. Someone who’s adept at high-level negotiation.”

Tsubame looked stunned. To us, it was hard to grasp—but Usui-san explained:

“It involves a case from another agency—when their head caused harm to their models, someone stepped in and resolved it. It wasn’t made public, but it happened. I plan to enlist that person.”

“Is that really safe? It sounds… formidable.”

“Yes. They’re like a mentor to me.”

Her words reminded me of a story she’d once told—but I stopped myself from overthinking it.

Tsubame soon returned to a serious tone:

“Okay—but how will this work in practice? Do we have proof of ties between him and President Urushiyama?”

“That’s under investigation. If he’d left a business card it’d be easier, but Arisaki left no traces—only your testimonies. CCTV would help, but that’s unlikely. We’ll set that aside for now.”

At that moment, a small voice raised from Tsubame’s side—Se-chan, nervously but determined:

“Um… could this help?”

She held a small device akin to a compact feature phone.

“A voice recorder?”

“Yes.”

Startled, Usui-san rose quickly, rattling the table. Se-chan and Shirao jumped—but Usui-san apologized immediately.

“May I ask—when did you start recording?”

“From the very beginning. When that man stepped from the car, I had a bad feeling. I’ve been… good at this since middle school.”

I recalled how Se-chan had helped quietly back when I ran my “handyman” service, especially with recording.

“Shigure—he mentioned President Urushiyama’s name, right?”

“…Yes, I remember that—it was unfamiliar.”

“Really!?”

Usui-san beamed at Se-chan.

“Se-chan, may I borrow this?”

“Of course! A voice recorder is for times like this. Here, I’ll show you how it works.”

Se-chan guided her and played back the recording:

“…Actually, I was entrusted with a letter for the ‘Nation’s Ruinous Beauty’…”

“You tracked her via social media, extracted her personal data, and came all this way just to deliver that letter?”

“It was necessary, and President Urushiyama approved it.”

Usui-san paused, regaining composure.

“Well done—this is no small feat, Se-chan.”

She and Shirao listened gravely.

“That was dangerously careless—mentioning the agency head’s name from the start.”

“He must have underestimated us, seeing high schoolers. If he’d detected the recorder partway, he might not have spoken so freely. I wasn’t expecting a voice recorder from a student—so impressive.”

“Truly…”

Even if he’d been cautious, the click of the car door made the recording less obvious.

“He used President Urushiyama’s name to gain credibility—but it was a misstep. Regardless…”

Usui-san smiled at Se-chan and Tsubame.

“This is a powerful trump card. The first problem is essentially solved. Now, Tsubame—thank you. And Se-chan.”

“…Yes, thank you.”

“I’m truly honored!”

Somehow, Tsubame looked a little dissatisfied. Maybe it was because Se-chan was the only one being called with the affectionate “-chan” honorific?

Still, her expression quickly shifted, and she turned to look at Se-chan.

“Thank you, Se-chan.”

“Hawaaah! I’m melting! My heart feels like it’s floating! Is this what sugar feels like when it turns into cotton candy, Shirao-kun?”

“I dunno about that, but you should be proud. Seriously, that was a huge help. Right, Shigure?”

“Yeah. This is something only you could’ve done, Se-chan. You were amazing—just like last time with Shirao.”

“I was nervous, but I’m really glad I did it!”

This really was something only Se-chan could’ve done. She was incredible.

After smiling with narrowed eyes, Se-chan turned toward Usui-san.

“U-Um… that voice recorder… you can have it.”

“I can’t quite accept that, but I appreciate the offer. Is there anything else recorded on it?”

“N-No, I haven’t had much reason to use it recently.”

“Then how about I exchange it for a brand-new one of the same kind?”

“Th-That’s fine. Please do.”

Usui-san clenched her fist with a small “yes,” but one question still remained.

“Usui-san, what’s the other issue we need to resolve?”

“Yes. It’s similar, but this one’s about the future. Even if we deal with this incident, we’re likely to receive similar invitations from other people. So it’s not a fundamental solution.”

A soft murmur of understanding escaped from all of us.

There had been similar invitations before—and even Arisaki had implied they weren’t the only ones. This problem wouldn’t go away even if he did… and the crown prince might not give up either.

“…”

Tsubame was deep in thought, clearly aware of that fact. Her eyes occasionally met mine, only to drift downward again as she contemplated.

Seeing her like that, Usui-san gave her a gentle smile.

“It’s okay. This one isn’t urgent, and I’ll handle it—so try not to worry too much. From now on, we’ll also improve security—”

But mid-sentence, Usui-san paused. She furrowed her brow, lowered her head, and let out a long breath.

“Usui-san?”

“…Sorry. I think the all-nighters are finally catching up with me. Mind if I rest for a bit?”

“Yeah. Mom—”

We had talked at length already, and Usui-san hadn’t slept in three days. Her unusually high energy earlier probably stemmed from that too.

Tsubame looked to her mother, who nodded and stood up.

“Yes, there’s a bed in the guest room, so please—”

“N-No, if I lie down now, I won’t get up for half a day. Just sitting down and closing my eyes will be enough.”

“…”

“I-I’m really fine. I promise I’ll go straight to bed once I get home.”

Tsubame stared at her with clear suspicion, and Usui-san hastily reassured her. I shared Tsubame’s concern, of course…

“O-Oh, right. Before I forget—tomorrow’s shoot has been postponed. The director apparently prioritized work too much and got begged by his kid to play. I won’t be moving around until afternoon either.”

“Really?”

“Y-Yes. I plan to begin the real investigation tomorrow, so I’ll make sure to sleep in the morning.”

“…Got it.”

Though still clearly unconvinced, Tsubame’s reply made Usui-san breathe a small sigh of relief. Then, Tsubame turned her gaze toward me.

“Let’s talk while Usui-san rests, Shigure-kun. Just the two of us.”

Her words carried a certain weight—subtle, but impossible to miss.

“Then in the meantime, I’d love to ask the two of you some things—about how Tsubame is at school, and how you became friends with Shigure-kun.”

“O-Ohhh, if that’s your wish, I’ll talk for hours. Until my throat gives out!”

“Y-You don’t have to go that far. But I’d love to hear it.”

Tsubame’s mother, perhaps sensing the situation, kindly started chatting with Shirao and Se-chan.

Shirao caught my eye and gave me a nod. I was slightly worried, but they’d be fine.

Which meant—it was time for me to do what I had to do.

“I’ll head to the room for a bit.”

“O-Okay! Talk lots!”

“Please. And Usui-san, make sure to rest until we’re back, okay?”

“…Yes, I will.”

She probably knew they wanted her to rest as much as possible. That was part of the reason this timing felt right. I stood up and followed Tsubame.

Just as we were about to leave, Se-chan called out to me.

“Ah—Shigure-kun.”

“Hm?”

“I thought this might be helpful.”

She pulled out a small notebook from her bag.

“You probably remember this, but this notebook has things summarized from mine and Shirao-kun’s perspectives.”

“Thanks. This’ll help a lot.”

“Shigure.”

I heard Shirao call my name. As I accepted the notebook and turned toward him, his gaze pierced right through me.

“Like Se-chan said earlier—our past won’t disappear. Just keep that in mind.”

“…Yeah. Thanks, Shirao.”

The past doesn’t disappear.

It’s a phrase easy to interpret negatively—but I knew that wasn’t how he meant it.

I held those words in my heart and turned back to her. And there—our eyes met. Eyes that were clear, honest, and stunningly beautiful.

“Alright, we’ll be off.”

“We’ll come back after our talk.”

“Got it. See you soon.”

“Take care. You’ve got this.”

Their warm send-off at our backs, we headed for her room.

“Tell me, okay? About… Kizuki-san, that person.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you. I know you’ve been wondering.”

It was something I knew I had to talk about eventually.

I’d avoided serious topics like this for a long time—but if we were going to have an important conversation, I needed to stop running from it.

Because telling her meant revealing everything I felt about her.

With my heartbeat growing louder and faster, I tightened my grip on her hand—and walked toward her room, ready to speak.