Chapter 32 — The Boy Everyone Wanted, The House That Refused To Share
By the time Haruya reached home, the sky had already softened into a calm afternoon blue. The ride back from Hanma Studio had been surprisingly peaceful. His bodyguards had stayed alert as always, eyes scanning every corner, but no one followed, no one approached. The world outside was loud about him, but the road back home felt quiet.
The front gate opened with its usual smooth motion.
The moment he stepped inside the villa, he knew something was off.
The house was too quiet.
No clinking plates.
No distant maid chatter.
No TV noise.
Just… silence. Heavy, careful silence.
He closed the door gently and bent down to remove his shoes.
"Mom, I'm—"
He didn't even finish the sentence.
Warmth crashed into him from the front.
His body was pulled forward, completely swallowed in a tight embrace.
His face bumped into something soft; his nose filled with the familiar scent of his mother's perfume.
"—Haru!"
Ayaka's voice came out broken, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
She hugged him so tightly that for a moment he forgot how to breathe. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and back like she was afraid that if she let go, the world would steal him away.
"M—Mom?" he said, stunned.
Her hands were shaking. He felt her breath against his hair, uneven and fragile.
"My baby… my baby, you're home…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Thank goodness… thank goodness…"
He blinked, and slowly lifted his arms to hug her back.
"I'm home," he answered softly. "See? I'm safe."
Before he could process anything—
Another warmth latched onto him from the right.
And then another from the left.
"Aah, Haru!"
"Little brother!"
Aoi grabbed his arm and squeezed it against her chest, her usually calm face tight with worry. Sakura wrapped both arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.
He was completely surrounded.
Like a small treasure being smothered by three overprotective dragons.
"You're late!" Sakura sniffed. "Do you know how many times I checked the clock? I thought something happened on the way back!"
"I told you to message us after reaching the studio and before leaving," Aoi added, voice soft but sharp, like a scolding wrapped in concern. "You only texted once. Once, Haru."
Ayaka finally pulled back just enough to cup his face in her hands. Her eyes were red. She had definitely cried before he even got here.
"What if someone followed you? What if some strange woman tried to talk to you? What if they tried to take you after the shoot? This world is crazy when it comes to boys, my baby…"
He stared at them.
All three of them.
Tired eyes, tensed shoulders, messy hair from worrying too much.
He suddenly understood.
They hadn't been sitting around excited that he worked with a famous studio.
They'd been sitting around imagining every horrible scenario.
He sighed softly, but there was a smile in his eyes.
"I'm okay," he said, gently prying himself enough to breathe while still letting them hold him. "Really. No one touched me. No one followed me. The staff were polite, the security stayed close, and I came home in one piece."
Ayaka exhaled slowly, as if trying to release all her fear in one long breath.
Then she pulled him back into another hug anyway.
"You're too precious," she muttered. "This is not a world where a boy can just go to work and come back. My heart nearly stopped when your first photos went viral…"
Aoi nodded, her brows furrowed. "Those online comments. That post from Hanma Studio. All those women talking about you… I had to stop myself from replying to every one of them."
Sakura puffed her cheeks. "I was this close to writing: 'That boy you're drooling over has five heavily armed women at home. Beware.'"
He laughed softly.
There it is, he thought.
The Takahara family style of love.
Half crying, half threatening to beat up the world.
---
Living Room Interrogation
They finally pulled him to the living room like he was a hostage they had just rescued.
A maid quietly brought tea and snacks, then vanished at lightspeed, sensing the family atmosphere was in "overprotective mode."
Haruya sat on the couch.
His mother sat beside him, one hand still holding his sleeve like she was afraid he would vanish if she let go. Sakura sat on his other side, leaning into him, and Aoi sat right across from him, back straight, eyes serious, like she was about to conduct an interview.
She cleared her throat.
"Alright," Aoi said. "Report."
He blinked. "Report?"
"Yes." Sakura nodded. "From the moment you left this house until you came back, I want everything. Don't skip."
Ayaka patted his hair. "You heard your sister. Start from the car. And drink your tea while talking. You must be tired."
He took a sip, sighed, and started talking.
He told them how he was welcomed at the studio. How the staff bowed. How they behaved respectfully. How they treated him like a rare VIP but also like a normal model in terms of professionalism.
He told them about the stylists doing his hair and makeup.
He told them about the shoot itself, the camera, the poses, the compliments.
He left out some parts — like how many women in the room were staring. They didn't need to know every detail.
Ayaka nodded slowly, listening with narrowed eyes, checking every part of the story for danger.
"And the famous woman," Aoi finally said. "The celebrity."
Sakura's eyes narrowed with her. "That Miyahara… Yume, right?"
He scratched his cheek lightly.
"Yeah. She came," he admitted. "She watched the shoot. Then we talked for a bit."
Ayaka's grip on his sleeve tightened.
"How close did she stand?"
"Mom," he sighed.
"How close."
He thought back.
"Normal distance. We weren't face-to-face or anything weird. Just… like normal people talking."
"Did she try to touch you?" Aoi asked calmly.
"No."
"Did she ask for your personal contact?" Sakura added, eyes narrowing dangerously.
"No."
"Good," Sakura muttered.
Ayaka still looked unconvinced. "What did she say, exactly?"
He thought for a moment.
"She said she admired the photos. Said I had a natural presence in front of the camera." He shrugged slightly. "We didn't talk long. Studio manager was watching. Everything was recorded and supervised."
Aoi's shoulders finally relaxed a little.
"I checked the government bulletin earlier," she said. "Male Protection Department put a quiet advisory for studios handling male models. Hanma Studio is under strict surveillance now. They can't try anything daring even if they wanted to."
Sakura leaned her head on his shoulder. "I still don't like it. All those eyes on you… It makes me uncomfortable."
Ayaka's voice softened. "You know the studio didn't even post your name, Haru. That's good. The internet only knows you as 'that mysterious boy' or 'the angel from Hanma Studio.' If they had carelessly written your full name, I would have gone there personally with a lawyer."
Haruya blinked.
So they'd noticed that too.
He nodded slowly.
"Yeah. They're being careful. I think the manager understands how dangerous it would be if my identity leaked."
Sakura poked his cheek again, a little sulky. "Still. If they want to keep using your face, they better treat you like a national treasure. Not just a product."
Ayaka exhaled and finally brushed his hair back from his forehead.
"One more thing," she said quietly. "Next time… when you go there… take more precautions."
He tilted his head. "More? I already went with bodyguards."
"I know," she said. "But next time, message us more often. Before entering. After leaving. If they ask you to stay longer than planned, tell them you need to inform your family first. Never sign anything alone. Understand?"
Her eyes met his — serious, firm, but full of love.
He nodded.
"I understand."
He looked at all three of them.
Haruya thought in mind "I'm… really grateful, you know. My old world never worried about me this much."
He smiled faintly.
"I'll be more careful," he promised.
Sakura immediately hugged him again.
"You better. I still have to see you graduate middle school, high school, marry five women, become a top actor, and live a long life while being spoiled by all of us."
Aoi muttered, "…We are not deciding his future for him."
"You are the one who made a long life plan chart with him in the center," Sakura replied.
"That was hypothetical."
Ayaka chuckled softly as her daughters bickered, and for the first time that day, the house felt normal again.
Warm.
Noisy.
Alive.
And in the middle of that chaos, Haruya sat quietly, feeling something heavy and soft at the same time.
He had been alone in one world.
This time, he was absolutely not.
---
Later That Night — Haruya's Room
Hours passed.
Dinner came and went.
Saeko and Reina had both sent messages:
Saeko: "I saw more photos of you online today. Please rest well, Haru-kun. Don't let the attention stress you… (╥﹏╥)"
Reina: "My future husband's ahh I'm sorry, I mean my friend haru-kun is trending again. I will protect your honor from jealous beasts. Sleep early."
He replied to both with gentle, simple answers.
He sat on his bed, the room dim except for his phone's glow.
Out of curiosity, he opened social media.
The Hanma Studio photos were still all over the place.
People reposting.
People drawing fanart already.
People writing comments like:
"Whoever that boy is, I hope he's living like a king."
"If the government ever reveals his name, I'm proposing on the spot."
"No name, no info, nothing… I respect Hanma Studio. They actually care about his safety."
He saw a few speculative posts about the studio and government cooperation.
He saw a blurry paparazzi photo of Miyahara Yume entering a building that looked suspiciously like Hanma Studio.
The caption read:
"Nation's top star suddenly visits unknown studio right after viral boy appears. Coincidence?"
He huffed a small laugh through his nose.
People were quick.
He turned off the screen and lay down, staring up at the ceiling.
"So this is what it feels like," he murmured. "To have the world looking at you… and not know your name."
In his previous world, he could have disappeared and no one would notice for days.
Here, if he vanished now, the internet would probably go insane.
He didn't know whether to feel comforted or creeped out.
He settled on something in between.
"…As long as my family is okay with it," he concluded quietly, "I guess I can keep walking forward."
With that thought, he closed his eyes.
---
Scene Shift — Miyahara Yume's Penthouse, That Same Night
Across the city, far above most rooftops, lights shimmered through glass.
Miyahara Yume sat curled on a white sofa, legs tucked to one side, a blanket over her lap. She wore comfortable clothes — a loose, soft sweater and shorts — but her expression did not match the casual outfit.
She was staring at her phone.
At his pictures.
Again.
She zoomed into one shot — the side profile, soft expression, eyes half turned toward the light.
Her heart did that strange little flip for the tenth time.
"This is ridiculous," she whispered to herself. "I met him once. Once."
She remembered it clearly.
The gentle bow of his head.
The calm way he spoke.
The small, sincere smile that wasn't trying to charm anyone — it just appeared naturally.
In an industry full of practiced expressions, that kind of smile was dangerous.
Not because it was seductive.
But because it was real.
Her heart tightened slightly.
"I almost forgot my own name when he greeted me," she muttered, covering her face.
Her manager sat across from her, going through emails like nothing was out of place.
Without looking up, she said, "You know, Miss Yume, you've rewatched that footage of the shoot three times now."
Yume stiffened.
"I have not."
"The security feed shows three replays," the manager replied calmly.
"It was quality control," Yume said.
"Of course."
The manager's tone was polite, but her eyes held amusement.
---
The Friends Who Smelled Gossip
The doorbell chimed.
The house AI announced in a polite voice, "Miss Kanzaki Rina and Miss Hosaka Mei have arrived."
Yume's eye twitched.
"Oh no," she muttered. "They're here."
Her manager closed the laptop. "I'll leave you to it."
Two women entered the room with the kind of confidence only top celebrities carried.
Kanzaki Rina, a fashion model known for her bold, fierce aura, dropped onto the sofa like she owned the place.
Hosaka Mei, a glamorous actress with a soft smile and sharp eyes, sat beside her, crossing her legs gracefully.
They both looked at me Yume with matching predatory grins.
"So…" Rina started. "We heard a rumor."
Mei leaned forward. "About a certain boy."
Yume stiffened. "There are many boys in the world."
"Lie," Rina said flatly.
"To begin with, there are not many boys in the world," Mei added calmly. "And there is only one boy linked to you right now."
They stared at her.
She looked away.
"…Stop visiting uninvited," Yume grumbled.
Rina smirked. "You were the one who sent a mysterious 'I saw something incredible today' message in the group chat and then vanished for four hours."
Mei smiled sweetly. "We are simply acting as responsible friends, here to interrogate you properly."
Yume wanted to bury herself under the sofa.
Instead, she picked up a cushion and hugged it to her chest.
"It was nothing," she said.
"Hah?" Rina raised a brow. "You, who doesn't call anyone 'incredible' except herself, are now suddenly shy?"
Mei's gaze drifted to the paused screen on the TV — a still image from the Hanma Studio shoot. Only a sliver of the boy's face was shown.
Her eyes narrowed.
"…Is that him?" she asked.
Rina followed her gaze.
Her jaw dropped a little.
"Oh," she said, voice going soft for the first time. "Oh. Oh wow."
The boy wasn't even facing the camera directly in that frame. It was a passing angle, a still frame from movement.
Yet even half-turned, even in motion blur, his presence was obvious.
Mei muttered, "…He doesn't look like a studio model. He looks like he wandered in from some other world."
Yume swallowed.
"That's… accurate," she admitted quietly.
Rina's eyes sharpened.
"What's his name?" she asked immediately.
"No," Yume replied.
Mei blinked. "That was fast."
Rina leaned closer. "What do you mean, 'no'?"
Yume took a breath and set the cushion down.
"I mean exactly that. I won't tell you his name. Or his school. Or his age. Or anything."
Her friends stared at her like she had just said she was quitting her career to become a farmer.
"…Why?" Rina demanded. "You always share details about cute puppies you see on the street. But for him, suddenly nothing?"
Mei's eyes flicked with realization.
"Is it because of the contract?" she asked calmly. "NDA?"
Yume nodded.
"Yes. The Government ordered his identity sealed. Hanma Studio is under surveillance. Every staff member, every document, every message is monitored. If any personal information leaks, there will be a full investigation."
Rina leaned back, arms crossed. "So even you can't do anything?"
Yume gave a small, humorless laugh.
"I could try," she said. "But if I did, it would put him at risk too. And I won't do that."
She paused.
"Also… I signed the agreement myself. I'm not breaking that."
Mei watched her for a long moment.
"…It's not just about the contract, is it?" she asked softly.
Yume's fingers trembled slightly.
She looked at her hands.
"At first, it was curiosity," she said slowly. "I saw the photos. I wanted to see if he was real. If any boy could look like that without filters and edits."
Rina and Mei stayed silent.
"But when I met him…"
Her voice softened.
"He was calm. Polite. His eyes… weren't empty. He wasn't trying to impress me or flatter me. He just stood there like… a normal boy."
Somehow, that "normal" was what got her.
"In our world," she continued, "almost everyone I meet wants something from me. Fame. Connections. Exposure. An image. He didn't look at me like that. He just… greeted me. Like I was a person."
Her cheeks warmed again.
Mei hid a smile behind her hand.
"You like him," she said.
Yume glared weakly. "I respect him."
"You like him," Mei repeated.
Rina smirked. "You fell for him at first sight."
"I did not—!"
She stopped.
Went quiet.
Then sighed.
"…Maybe," she admitted in a tiny voice. "A little."
Rina whistled low. "Well, the entire country is half in love with his photos. You just got an early seat."
Mei's smile faded into something more thoughtful.
"You're not going to tell anyone about him?" she asked.
Yume shook her head.
"No."
"Not even us?"
"No."
Rina gasped dramatically. "So cold."
Yume lifted her chin slightly.
"You two are my friends," she said. "That's exactly why I won't drag you into anything dangerous. The Government isn't playing around. And boys are… important. If anything happens to him…"
She trailed off.
The thought alone made her chest hurt.
Mei's eyes softened.
"You want to protect him," she said.
Yume looked out the window, at the distant, glittering skyline.
"Yes," she answered simply.
---
The Quiet Decision
After her friends left — still grumbling, still curious, but accepting her choice — the penthouse sank into calm again.
Yume stood alone by the window, one hand resting lightly on the glass.
Far below, the city lights flickered like restless stars fallen to the ground.
She thought about the contract she had signed.
The promise she'd made.
The risk she'd taken just to meet him once.
"Just once," she murmured.
But once wasn't enough.
Not when there was so much she didn't know.
How he laughed when he was really amused.
Whether he liked sweet things or preferred salty food.
Whether he ever watched TV dramas and shouted at the screen.
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again with a quiet, determined light.
"I won't break the rules," she said softly. "But… I'll use every chance I am allowed."
Hanma Studio wanted to grow.
She could help them.
She was already an investor.
She knew how campaigns were built.
She could propose joint projects.
Collaborations.
Limited campaigns where they "needed" him as a special model.
Not constantly.
Not aggressively.
Just enough.
Enough to keep seeing him.
Enough to let him stay in her orbit, little by little, in a way that didn't threaten his safety.
"This is fine," she told herself with a soft smile. "I'm not stealing him. I'm… supporting his career."
A small voice in the back of her mind whispered:
And keeping him close.
She ignored it.
For now.
---
Scene Shift To Yume Friends — The Friends' Jealous Meltdown
Deep inside a private luxury café — the kind only top actresses, models, and elite influencers used — two women sat across from each other with identical stormy expressions.
Kanzaki Rina.
Hosaka Mei.
Both extremely beautiful.
Both extremely famous.
Both extremely angry.
A thick, suffocating tension hung over their table like a dark cloud.
Finally, Rina slammed her hand on the table.
The spoons rattled.
The waiter flinched and quickly ran away.
"THAT WOMAN—!!" she yelled. "Yume is actually gatekeeping him from us. US!"
Mei pressed a hand against her forehead. "She didn't just gatekeep him. She LOCKED THE INFORMATION IN A VAULT AND THREW THE KEY INTO THE OCEAN."
Rina leaned forward, eyes blazing.
"She didn't even give us his NAME, Mei. His NAME!"
Mei exhaled sharply.
"I cannot believe this. We are her closest friends. We did photoshoots together, worked the same brand events, ate ramen at 1 AM during award season… AND SHE WON'T TELL US ABOUT A BOY!?"
Rina gritted her teeth.
Her pride was hurting.
Deeply.
"You saw that half-pixel photo on her TV," she hissed. "Even blurry, even cropped… that boy was GORGEOUS."
Mei nodded aggressively.
"I swear, the moment I saw that jawline, I felt my soul leaving my body. And I only saw his silhouette—HIS SILHOUETTE!"
Rina grabbed her hair dramatically.
"How!? How can a boy look like that!? It's illegal! Unfair! Criminal!"
Mei's voice dropped into a furious whisper.
"And Yume met him.
She met him, Rina.
Stood in the same room as him.
Breathed the same air.
Looked into his eyes.
Heard his voice."
Silence.
Both women stared at each other.
Then both let out a tortured yell at the same time:
"AAAAARGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
Other customers turned their heads.
Some recognized them.
Some pretended not to.
Mei slammed her cup down.
"You know what hurts the MOST!?" she demanded.
"What!?" Rina shot back.
"She blushed. She BLUSHED. MIYAHARA YUME BLUSHED!"
Mei punched the air. "That ice queen, that industry goddess — melting in front of a boy!"
Rina's jaw tightened like she was chewing rocks.
"And she refused to tell us ANYTHING. Nothing. Zero. Not even whether he likes dogs or cats."
Mei leaned across the table with trembling fingers.
"We just want the basics!"
"Yes!"
"We just want a direction!"
"Yes!"
"We just want to know which TEMPLE WE SHOULD PRAY AT TO BE BLESSED BY HIS EXISTENCE!"
Rina roared, "EXACTLY!!"
They both sat back, panting like warriors after a battle.
Seconds later
Rina narrowed her eyes, plotting like a villainess.
"You know what? Yume is doing this on purpose."
Mei nodded immediately.
"I agree. 100%. She's hiding him. Locking him away like he's some priceless treasure."
Rina slammed the table again.
"He's not a treasure — he's a NATIONAL RELIC. We have the RIGHT to see him!"
"Yes!" Mei snapped. "I am a taxpayer. I DESERVE rights!"
Rina glared at nothing in particular.
"Mark my words. That little traitor—"
"You mean Yume?"
"Yes, that traitor — she's going to show up next time pretending nothing happened. And we're just supposed to SIT there while she keeps him all to herself!?"
Mei stared into the distance, expression dark.
"I am feeling emotions I have never felt in my entire career."
"Like what?" Rina asked.
Mei clenched her fist.
"ENVY."
Rina nodded sadly.
"I feel envy too. Pure, burning, volcanic envy."
Mei's tone dropped to a whisper.
"…we fell for him too."
Rina didn't deny it.
She just stared at the table.
"He's unforgettable," she muttered.
"In just one blurry photo."
Mei nodded.
"And she got the FULL HD, 4K, LIMITED EDITION, ONLY ONE IN THE WORLD EXPERIENCE."
Rina grabbed her cup with trembling hands.
"If she weren't my best friend, I would hate her right now."
"Same," Mei whispered.
They sat in silence for a moment.
Then Mei clenched both fists with trembling determination.
"We need a strategy."
Rina's eyes lit up.
"Yes. A plan. A mission."
"We can't violate the NDA. We can't stalk. We can't force Yume."
"Yes, yes, legal stuff," Rina muttered. "But—"
"But," Mei continued, "we can take advantage of opportunities."
Their eyes met.
A slow, wicked smile spread across both faces.
"We're going to get into that studio."
"We're going to befriend that studio."
"We're going to get invited naturally."
"We're going to become… valuable."
"And THEN—"
"THEN—"
"We'll see him with our own eyes."
They nodded in perfect sync, as if they were forming an alliance in a fantasy novel.
Finally, Rina sighed dramatically.
"But first…"
"Yes…?"
"We have to act normal in front of Yume."
Mei deflated.
"Ugh. Right. We can't look desperate."
"Exactly. We must appear calm. Dignified. Mature."
A full two seconds passed.
Then both whispered together:
"…I'm going to lose my mind before that."
---
Elsewhere — The Boy Asleep, The World Moving Around Him
Back in the Takahara mansion, the house was finally quiet.
Ayaka checked on her son one last time before bed.
She opened his door quietly.
He was already asleep, breathing slowly, his silver hair spread across the pillow like spilled moonlight.
For a second, her heart squeezed.
"My baby," she whispered with a faint smile. "Growing up and turning the whole country upside down without even trying…"
She closed the door, her expression soft but worried.
Tomorrow, new posts would appear online.
New people would see him for the first time.
New hearts would stop for a moment at the sight of a boy who looked like something unreal.
But inside this house, nothing changed.
To them, he wasn't a mysterious idol.
Wasn't a trend.
Wasn't a fantasy.
He was just Haru.
Their son.
Their little brother.
Their world.
And outside, far away, a woman who was adored by millions lay awake in a luxurious room, staring at his picture and smiling like a girl with her first crush.
The country had no idea yet.
That the nameless boy from Hanma Studio…
Had just quietly begun to pull another powerful heart into his orbit.
One gentle smile at a time.
To be continued…