Kouta sat at a corner table in a quiet cafe near UA High School, sipping a blended coffee while keeping an eye on his phone. The spot was unassuming, public, and safe.
A woman, looking to be in her early thirties, approached hesitantly. She wore a simple yellow cardigan over a white blouse, exactly as described in their messages.
"Um… excuse me. Are you the one who posted about the paperwork job?"
Kouta looked up and nodded. "Yeah. Takanashi-san, right?"
She nodded.
"Have a seat," Kouta said.
She sat down, clutching her bag tightly. Her eyes darted around the café briefly before settling on him.
"I… honestly didn't expect someone so young. You look around the same age as my daughter," she admitted quietly.
Kouta offered a light, reassuring smile. "I'm Kazuraba Kouta. Nice to meet you."
"Takanashi Mila," she replied, giving a slight bow of her head.
After a quick sip of coffee, Kouta got straight to the point.
"Here's the situation. There's an akiya being offered for free by the local government. I want it, but I'm still a minor, so I can't legally hold the title yet. I need an adult to act as the nominal owner on paper until I turn eighteen. At that point, we transfer it back to me. That's all."
Mila blinked, processing. "So… I don't have to live there? Or pay any taxes?"
"No. I'll cover everything, property taxes, utilities, any maintenance. You'd just be the name on the deed until I come of age."
She frowned slightly, her guard still up. "It sounds… almost too simple. Why offer half a million yen just for a signature?"
Kouta shrugged, his tone casual but earnest. "Because most adults wouldn't touch this even if it's free, too much perceived risk or hassle. I don't want to lose the property waiting three years. The payment is to make it worth your while and to thank you for helping me out."
He pulled a folder from his backpack containing the official akiya paperwork, a short, clearly worded private agreement, notarized for extra legitimacy, and other documents to make the arrangement legally binding.
Mila read through everything carefully. The terms were straightforward: she would act as the nominee owner, receive ¥500,000 upon successful registration, Kouta would handle all associated costs, and the property would be fully transferred to him on his eighteenth birthday.
'Half a million… We're behind on rent. Kimi's school fees are due soon… I really need the money.' Doubt gnawed at her mind.
"And the payment…?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kouta glanced around casually, then slid a plain white envelope across the table. "It's all here. Cash. Once you sign the documents, it's yours. You can count it if you'd like."
Mila took the envelope and discreetly opened it under the table. Neat bundles of ¥10,000 notes. She didn't count them all, but the thickness and top bills confirmed it, exactly half a million yen.
She looked back at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit. He simply waited, calm and patient.
"…All right," she said finally, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "I'll do it."
She signed the akiya application, the private agreement, and the supplementary documents. Kouta added his own signature, then pushed the envelope fully toward her.
"You'll need to submit the akiya application to the town office, mail it or drop it off. They usually process it in a week or two. Once you receive the keys and the property papers from the town hall, call me. We'll meet at the house so I can get a copy made."
He slid a memo with his phone number across the table.
Mila took it, then wrote her own number below his. "Here's mine as well. I'll call as soon as I have the keys."
"Alright. See you later," Kouta said.
She stood, giving another slight bow, the envelope now secure in her bag. "Thank you, Kazuraba-kun."
"You're welcome."
As she left the café, Kouta let out a slow, controlled breath. 'Now, I just need to wait for her to call me.'
He wasn't worried. He had done his homework on Takanashi Mila. A widow with a single daughter his age, Takanashi Kimi.
Mila had renounced most of her assets after her husband died in a workplace accident that triggered massive debt. She'd been living in a rented room and working odd jobs just to cover the basics for herself and her daughter.
For him, it was a simple transaction. For her, it was a lifeline. And for his plans, it was the first quiet, legal acquisition of a much-needed private space.
. . . .
At a dilapidated, medium-sized two-story Japanese house, a structure that looked ready to collapse if someone leaned against it. Kouta arrived to find Mila waiting for him. She stood holding a folder of property papers, her posture formal.
When she noticed him, she gave a respectful nod.
"Let me see the papers," Kouta said.
Mila handed them over along with a set of copy keys.
"Hmm, good," Kouta said after a brief review. "Alright, your work is done here. I'll contact you again when it's time to handle the taxes."
He took a step toward the entrance, intending to inspect the interior.
"Um, excuse me," Mila said softly.
Kouta turned. "Yes?"
"Actually… if you ever need more assistance with cleaning, errands, anything at all, I would be happy to help," Mila said. She was thinking ahead; the payment she'd received for finding the property was substantial but finite, and the odd jobs she usually took didn't pay well. It would be shortsighted not to ask.
"Do you want another job?" Kouta asked directly.
"Yes, please. At least until my daughter is old enough to help support our family," Mila replied.
"Hmm." Kouta considered what she could handle. "Then, could you visit this house every day? Speak to the neighbors and let them know we're distant relatives. Also, handle tasks I can't do as a minor, such as overseeing renovations. I'll pay you ¥500,000 a month."
Mila's eyes widened in surprise at the amount.
"Really? I… I'll do it! I'll do my absolute best," Mila said, her voice a mixture of disbelief and determination. The offer was too significant to refuse.
"Good. You may leave now," Kouta said.
"Thank you very much for the opportunity," Mila replied, bowing deeply before turning to walk away.
"You're welcome," Kouta said.
Once he was certain he was alone and unobserved, he placed his hand against the rotting wooden wall of the house.
"[All above-ground structural and architectural components of this house, excluding utility connections and wiring, cease to exist.]"
The house shimmered for a moment, then vanished into thin air as though it had never been there, leaving only the foundation, underground utilities, and an empty plot of land.
"I can send her the blueprints and funds later to handle the rebuilding," Kouta murmured to himself. Internally, his thoughts were more pointed: 'I'll need to handle the basement construction alone. I can't risk anyone discovering my secret base.'
With that, he turned and walked away as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.