Dou Tang didn't rush to pull Kume Chinatsu away.
After all, their relationship wasn't anywhere near close enough for him to start meddling in her problems.
Besides—wasn't Huaiyin still eating?
What, he was supposed to stop his adorable little sister mid-bite to go save some girl he'd only known for a few days?
Even if she was pretty—absolutely not!
Hmph.
But peace never lasted long.
Soon he realized why the crowd outside wasn't being allowed into the shop. This wasn't just a casual shoot—it was a variety show.
And to keep the footage clean, no random fans were allowed in—especially not female fans. In short, the café had been completely reserved.
Now, if you've ever watched Japanese variety shows, you'll know: they're masters of the ridiculous. No bottom line, no shame—just cheap laughs and overacted "wow!" reactions. Performers get pushed further every year, treated with less and less dignity.
This attitude had infected the whole entertainment scene. Here, privacy was thinner than paper—
and worse, that paper was transparent.
Seriously.
Even the Prime Minister's medical results end up in the tabloids.
(Yes, really. Don't question me—your exhausted author, delirious from too much late-night research.)
Anyway—back to the story.
Years of this circus had bred a new species of media bullies: industry predators with cameras for claws. They trampled over people's lives like it was sport. Exposure, reputation, scandal—flip one switch, and an ordinary person's life could collapse overnight.
The lower the standards fell, the bolder they became.
And the cruel irony?
Some people hated the system so much… they ended up becoming part of it.
Kikuchi Shun, self-proclaimed Host Boy Idol, was one of those.
He really had started out as a host. Later, he opened a YTube channel where he rated restaurants, flaunting his looks as part of the content. His fanbase grew steadily, and before long, a variety show invited him to guest as a "charismatic reviewer."
When he learned that two idols would appear alongside him, he practically sprinted to the set. The moment he saw Kume Chinatsu, he was smitten.
Even during filming, he kept throwing flirty glances her way, smirking every chance he got.
In his head, girls like her—the "I'm not like other gyaru" type, sweet but fake-naïve—were the easiest to charm.
What he didn't realize was that Kume Chinatsu despised shallow men more than anything.
Fortunately, her companion Iwaya Mei had a sharp eye and a sharper tongue, effortlessly blocking most of his advances.
The tasting segment finally wrapped up, and now the show was moving on to "interviewing random customers."
Kume Chinatsu kept sneaking glances toward Dou Tang's table.
Kikuchi Shun, noticing both that and Mei's earlier interaction with him, assumed they must all know each other.
That could make things awkward.
He was about to suggest starting with another table when—
Kume Chinatsu suddenly grabbed Iwaya Mei's wrist and walked straight toward Dou Tang.
The cameraman, smelling drama, eagerly followed. Kikuchi had no choice but to tag along.
Kume Chinatsu's face lit up when she reached them.
But before she could say a word, Kikuchi jumped ahead, signaling for the cameras to roll.
"Excuse me—are you two a couple?"
Huaiyin froze.
She tried to lift her cup calmly, but her hand trembled so hard the milk tea inside rippled like an earthquake.
Dou Tang shot her a puzzled look.
"No, we're siblings," he said flatly. "Did you need something?" Kikuchi smiled for the camera.
"We're filming a variety show—would you two mind a short interview?" "Sorry," Dou Tang said immediately, without even looking up. "Not interested."
Huh?
Rejection wasn't uncommon, but something about Dou Tang's tone—so smooth, so
dismissive—made Kikuchi's smile stiffen.
It wasn't even angry or defensive.
It was the same tone people used when brushing off pamphlet pushers on the street. Inflated by online fame and fragile ego, Kikuchi's irritation simmered.
Meanwhile, Huaiyin had finished eating. Half-squinting, she leaned back with a satisfied sigh, chin propped in one hand, looking drowsy and content.
Dou Tang glanced at Kume Chinatsu—then at the still-rolling cameras—and stood. "Huaiyin, let's go."
"Eh? But didn't you say we were waiting for someone, big brother?" "She can't make it anymore. Let's go."
Huaiyin nodded obediently and stood.
Kume Chinatsu panicked. Forgetting the plan to act like strangers, she blurted, "Wait! Kiryu-kun! Don't pretend you don't know me!"
The entire café froze.
Even the cameraman perked up, grinning as he started recording again.
Dou Tang frowned.
"You look busy. If you had other plans today, you could've said so earlier. I didn't bring Huaiyin out just to waste time."
"Big brother," Huaiyin whispered curiously, "is this the Kume-san you mentioned before?"
Kume Chinatsu's face went crimson.
Her original schedule had been perfect—shoot first, meet Dou Tang after.
But Kikuchi Shun had shown up nearly an hour late, dragging fans, noise, and chaos with him. Now the whipped cream on the cakes had already crusted over—and her plan had collapsed completely.
"Kiryu-kun," she said hurriedly, "even if I'm still filming, it's fine! Let's go shopping now!"
She turned and bowed deeply to the staff.
"I'm so sorry, everyone! Something urgent came up—please excuse me from the interview segment!"
Urgent? You literally just said shopping.
But since guests weren't needed for the next part anyway, no one stopped her—except Kikuchi Shun, whose expression darkened immediately.
So that was it?
Kume Chinatsu had another man waiting?
His eyes flicked over Dou Tang from head to toe.
The guy didn't look like a student at all. Despite his calm face, his posture and gaze radiated something dangerous—something real.
Kikuchi grunted, stepping aside to let them pass—but quietly etched the scene into his memory. He'd make sure not to forget this humiliation.
With the crew's reluctant approval, Kume Chinatsu bowed again and turned to leave with Dou Tang.
But before they could take a step, Iwaya Mei, who had been silently observing, reached out and caught Dou Tang's sleeve.
She slipped a small card from her pocket and tucked it neatly into the chest pocket of his vest—the fit, of course, was perfect.
Patting that pocket, she said in a calm, low voice: "That one's for cards. Contact me later."
Kikuchi Shun's eye twitched violently.
◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews. comment
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ You can read 50 chapter ahead on P@treon if you're interested: patreon.com/FicBridge