My childhood friend got me drunk and did it with me. I think it felt really good, so I continued being with her as well. ...Yandere? what is that?

Chapter 9: The Balance of Love and Ambition

[Natsume’s POV]

I woke up to the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the distant sound of a keyboard clacking. For a moment, I almost forgot where I was. The enormous bed, the soft silk sheets, and the faint warmth lingering beside me—it was all a stark contrast to my cramped apartment.

But then, reality hit me.

I wasn’t in my apartment.

I was in her home.

My eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the massive curtains, and I sat up, rubbing my temple. My body still ached from yesterday’s events. I half-expected to find myself handcuffed again, but surprisingly, my wrists were free. A glance downward confirmed that even my ankles were unshackled.

“Huh. That’s new.”

The scent of coffee led my gaze to a polished wooden desk across the room, where Miyuki sat, her back straight, completely immersed in her laptop screen. Her usual playful demeanor was gone—what replaced it was a woman who exuded authority and focus.

“Morning,” I mumbled, my voice still groggy.

Miyuki barely glanced at me. “Morning. There’s coffee on the nightstand. Drink it before it gets cold.”

I reached over, finding a cup already prepared for me. It wasn’t just any coffee, though. It was exactly the blend I liked, made just the way I preferred. The first sip was heavenly, instantly chasing away the last remnants of sleep.

“You removed the handcuff huh,” I noted, watching her reaction.

“I told you right, I’m not keeping you here as a prisoner,” she replied coolly, her fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard. “I just need you to realize that running after every other girl was a waste of time.”

Her tone was different now—measured, firm.

It was strange. In all the years I had known Miyuki —as someone who handled business calls with unwavering confidence, the one who always knew what she wanted and made sure she got it. Moreover, someone I could rely upon no matter what.

It was the very Miyuki I had admired for so long.

I sat there in silence, watching her work. She had switched into what I could now only describe as her “work mode.” Her usually bright eyes were sharp, her posture perfect, and every movement she made was efficient.

I took another sip of coffee. “You’re completely different from before.”

She finally looked up, arching a brow. “And?”

“I… had always admired this side of yours.” I scratched the back of my head. “The way you don’t let anything distract you.”

“When it comes to work, no.” She sighed, stretching her neck. “I told you before, Natsume. I don’t want to stop you from chasing your dreams. I just want to make sure you don’t waste your time on the wrong people. Also, I made some arrangements.”

I set my cup down and exhaled. “So, does this mean I can go back to work?”

Arrangements?

Miyuki leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers on the desk. She looked at me thoughtfully before nodding.

“Yes.”

I blinked. “Wait, really?”

“But,” she added, her gaze turning sharp, “you’ll stay here. You’ll work towards your dream, and I’ll support you however I can. Financially, emotionally… I don’t care what it takes, Natsume. I just want you to stop chasing after people who don’t see your worth, and look closely at someone nearby, who knows and acknowledges it.”

Her words struck something deep within me.

She had always been there, hadn’t she? Through every failure, every heartbreak, every moment I doubted myself—Miyuki had never once wavered.

Maybe I had been blind all along.

“…Thanks,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Miyuki smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing smirk. It was soft, almost relieved.

“You’ll owe me for this, you know?” she said, standing up.

“Oh? And how exactly do you plan on collecting that debt?” I asked, smirking.

She walked toward me, and before I could react, she reached out, her fingers brushing through my hair. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a strange warmth through me.

“By making that little someone can’t react at anyone apart from me,” she murmured as her other hand squeezed something precious to me and then leave it immediately.

Ouch!

Her fingertips moved with practiced ease, gently massaging my scalp as she combed through my messy strands. I found myself relaxing, leaning slightly into her touch.

“You always liked it when I did this, remember?” she whispered.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Y-Yeah… I remember.”

Her hands trailed down slowly, her fingers tracing along my jawline before stopping at my collarbone. Then, before I could react, her touch lingered just above my chest.

“You’ve been working out well,” she noted, pressing her palm lightly against my abs.

I tensed under her touch. “I, uh—yeah. A bit.”

She chuckled. “This suits you better.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond.

Before I could even think, she leaned in, her lips pressing against my forehead.

It was soft. Warm.

And it lingered.

“M-Miyuki—”

“Shhh.” She pulled away slightly, smiling down at me. “Just accept it, idiot.”

My heart was pounding.

She stepped back, her expression returning to something more composed. “Alright, enough of that. You should get ready already. We’ll be having breakfast soon, and I have some work to do after.”

I found myself watching her go as my chest tightened with something I couldn’t quite describe.

Maybe…

Maybe staying here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

I force myself to move, shaking off the daze Miyuki left me in. The scent of coffee is still rich in the air, but it’s the memory of her touch that lingers strongest. I run a hand through my hair and exhale sharply before finally standing up.

Breakfast is waiting when I step into the dining area. The table is neatly set, and Miyuki is already seated, skimming through something on her phone. She doesn’t glance up when I approach, but the moment I sit down, she slides a plate toward me.

“You should eat properly,” she says simply. “You barely touched your dinner last night.”

“I do remember losing consciousness. I wonder anyone can eat after that.”

I look down at the meal—perfectly portioned. The fact that she still remembers these little things unsettles me more than I care to admit. If she could make these before too, why make those horrible creations…

“You don’t have to do all this, you know.”

After all, I am still a little scared because of last time.

Miyuki finally meets my eyes, expression unreadable. “I want to. And, I am not letting anyone else get close to your stomach.”

Something stirs in my chest.

The meal passes mostly in silence, save for the occasional clink of porcelain. But somehow, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

Afterward, I gather my thoughts, my fingers drumming against the edge of my cup. “Miyuki… Why are you doing this?”

She exhales softly, setting her phone down. “Because I know you, Natsume. I know how much you push yourself, how often you refuse to rely on others. You’d rather struggle alone than admit you need help. Moreover, your insights when it come to opposite partners are horrible.”

I stiffen. “That’s not—”

“It is,” she interrupts, her gaze sharp but not unkind. “And I won’t let you throw yourself away to any stray cat just because you think you have to prove something.”

A lump forms in my throat. I want to argue, to tell her that I don’t need saving—but the truth is, a part of me is also tired. Tired of chasing an ideal that always feels just out of reach. Tired of pretending I don’t care about the one person who has always been there, because I thought she isn’t for someone like me. And tired of finding a substitute woman, so that my mind doesn’t linger around her every time.

Miyuki studies me for a moment before standing up. She moves to my side, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Just rely on me more from now on, okay?”

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I let the warmth of her touch sink in, grounding me in a way I didn’t realize I needed.

“…Okay.”

Her smile is small but genuine. And for the first time in a long while, I feel like I might finally be where I belong.