Yuri’s POV

“You guys must be loaded. You own this entire building?” Jay-jay asked, wide-eyed as she scanned the rooftop.

“Yeah, this house was actually Grandpa’s idea. He said building it up here helped him feel closer to his hometown,” I replied, arms folded as I leaned against the wall.

“Where are your parents, then?”

“In Japan, managing our businesses there.”

“But you’re Japanese. How come I never hear you speak it?”

“We’re in the Philippines. No real reason to speak it all the time,” I shrugged.

“Is that your natural hair color?”

“Nope.”

“Trying to look like Sakuragi from Slam Dunk?”

“Maybe,” I said, grinning faintly.

“Are you two related or something? Your surnames match—Hanamichi.”

“Sakuragi’s a fictional character, Jay,” I said with a small laugh.

“Oh yeah... right.”

And on she went—question after question, barely stopping for breath. I kept replying, mostly to keep her entertained. If she wandered off and Grandpa saw her here, I’d be toast. The man would assume things—like she was my girlfriend or something.

I was sure she’d already gone back to Japan. What’s she still doing in the Philippines? I thought I’d finally have the house to myself.

“Do you know how to make sushi?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts.

Why is she so full of energy? She’s really wearing me out.

“Hin—” I started to respond but paused. She was lying on my bed, elbows on the mattress, chin resting in her palms, staring right at me with a smile.

I turned away quickly, pretending to organize some papers on my desk. Why was I suddenly flustered? My heart was racing. I wasn’t like this before.

“You know… I take back what I said. You and Keifer aren’t alike at all,” she said softly.

I kept my gaze fixed on the table. “How do you mean?”

“You’re approachable… easier to talk to.”

Crap. She saw right through me.

She’s not wrong though. Keifer and I—once, we were the same. But I’ve changed. I’m no longer the hot-headed guy I used to be. I’ve tried to be someone kinder, someone different… all because of Ella. She never liked me for who I was, so I changed—hoping she'd finally see me. But she never did. Maybe she never will. Girls always seem to like the bad boys... guys like Keifer... or Aries.

“I like that version of you better,” she added.

Those words hit harder than I expected. For a moment, I considered saying something—maybe opening up. But before I could speak, a knock on my door interrupted the moment.

“Come in!” I called out.

Auntie—the head maid—stepped inside. “Young Master, your grandfather is asking for you.”

I stood up to leave when she added, “He said to bring your guest along.”

Crap. We're caught.

I motioned for Jay to follow. No use pretending now.

As we made our way to Grandpa’s office, I walked fast, and Jay struggled to keep up.

“Hey, slow down!” she huffed behind me.

I didn’t respond. I was too busy preparing myself for Grandpa’s reaction. When we reached the door, I stopped and turned to her.

“When you go in, bow right away,” I whispered.

She nodded, and I pushed open the door—only to dodge a flying paintbrush that nearly hit me.

“Are you trying to kill me, old man?!”

“Japanese!!” Grandpa shouted.

Here we go again.

“I’m in the Philippines! I can speak whatever language I want!” I snapped back.

“Bakero!” he cursed.

Typical Grandpa. Always demanding respect the old-school way. He wanted me to kneel before entering, speak in Japanese, wear traditional clothes—the whole package. This guy's lived in the Philippines for ages and still barely speaks Tagalog. Even the staff gets migraines trying to understand him.

“Why aren’t you wearing a kimono or yukata?” he barked, eyeing my casual outfit.

I scoffed. “Because it's boiling in those things. And I’m at home, not a tea ceremony.”

He shot me a death glare but then noticed Jay lingering behind me.

I nudged her forward. “My classmate.”

His gaze darted between us like he was solving a puzzle.

“What’s your name?” he asked Jay.

“Jasper Jean Mariano, sir. Jay-jay for short,” she replied politely, bowing a little.

Without warning, a fan flew through the air and struck me right on the forehead.

“WHAT THE—?!”

“You brought a girl home! Are you planning to get married?!” Grandpa roared, standing up.

“What? No! Are you insane?!”

“Then why is she here?”

Jay instinctively latched onto my arm. She was clearly intimidated. I scratched my head, trying to explain.

“It’s complicated.”

Grandpa’s narrowed eyes told me he didn’t believe a word. “You better not be plotting something indecent!”

“Ugh, your imagination is disgusting!”

Just when he looked about ready to unsheath the decorative samurai sword behind him, Auntie appeared again.

“Master… dinner is served.”

Like a light switch, his entire demeanor shifted. The man beamed and welcomed us to the dining area like nothing had happened.

Jay leaned in close and whispered, “That’s your grandpa? He’s terrifying.”

I said nothing, just led her to the table. Grandpa already looked like a king on his throne, being spoiled by Auntie.

I made Jay sit next to me and whispered, “Eat first. I’ll take you home once the rain lets up.”

She nodded, but I noticed her struggling with the chopsticks.

“How do you even use these?” she whispered, fumbling.

She looked so lost that I sighed and handed her a spoon instead, scooping rice into her bowl myself.

Midway through dinner, Grandpa suddenly spoke—while eating, which was rare for him.

“So, Jay-jay… whose daughter are you? Mariano? Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Jay’s expression shifted. “I… I don’t know my father. And my mom… well…”

She trailed off, clearly hesitant. I stepped in.

“She’s currently living with the Fernandez family,” I offered.

Jay gave me a questioning look but didn’t challenge it.

“Fernandez? As in, Michael Angelo Fernandez? The new CEO of Fer Corp?” Grandpa asked, raising a brow.

So Angelo’s taken over, huh? I hadn’t kept up with Aries’ family affairs.

“Yes. He’s my cousin,” Jay replied softly.

Grandpa simply nodded and went back to eating. But something in his eyes told me he was plotting something.

Later, I asked Auntie to pack Jay’s things, and we drove off. I had chosen the Hilux this time—figured we’d face some flooding.

“Whose ride is this?” she asked, inspecting the dashboard.

“Mine.”

“Of course. Rich kid things,” she muttered, half-amused.

I glanced over at her. “Jay… about your mom. Where is she now?”

She hesitated. “With her… new husband.”

“That why you’re staying with Aries?”

“No… it’s something else,” she said quietly, avoiding my eyes.

I didn’t press further. It was clearly a sensitive topic.

[Phone Call – Later That Night]

“May I speak with Mr. Michael Angelo Fernandez? This is Yuori Hanamitchi.”

“Yes, sir. One moment…”

The phone clicked, and soon Angelo’s voice came on.

“Hello, Mr. Hanamitchi?”

“Angelo! Finally. About that business proposal you sent months ago—I’m willing to accept it now.”

Angelo paused, stunned. The Hanamitchi Group was a massive name in Japan. This partnership could mean everything.

“Really? That’s fantastic! Thank you, sir!”

“But…” Mr. Hanamitchi added, “There’s one condition.”

“Yes, sir?”

“We need to talk… about your cousin. Jay-jay.”

“…Jay? What about her?”

“I’ll explain when we meet.”

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