The Framed Accountant and the Cold Vice President's Doting Love
One mistake was all it took to bring Ren Mise's quiet life crashing down. Six years of honest work at Katsuragi Corporation's Accounting Department mean nothing when a forged approval log bearing his ID surfaces—thirty million yen, funneled through a system he never had the authority to touch. With no way to prove his innocence and whispers spreading through the office like wildfire, Ren finds himself on the verge of resigning. But just as he's ready to give up, the executive elevator doors slid
The Framed Accountant and the Cold Vice President's Doting Love - The Ice Vice President's Promise—I Will Protect You
Katsuragi Tower, 12th floor. The air on the accounting department floor had been heavy ever since that morning.
Ever since he'd been framed for embezzlement, people had vanished from around Ren. No—more precisely, people had stopped coming near him.
Island-style desk layout. In the center of the floor where forty accountants worked, Ren's seat was the kind of place everyone could see but no one ever noticed. But now it was different. Everyone deliberately avoided looking at him. They pretended not to see, yet their gazes still stabbed into his back.
Ren stared at his computer screen. But the numbers wouldn't sink in. The fingertips resting on the keyboard were slightly red. A habit of flipping through his notebook had always made his fingertips turn red easily.
*I didn't do anything.*
The words he'd repeated in his mind countless times. But he couldn't say them aloud. Even if he did, no one would listen.
Lunch break. Ren headed alone to the employee cafeteria "Grand Katsuragi" on the basement floor. The spacious cafeteria, with a capacity of three hundred, was crowded as always. He lined up for the daily set meal at 650 yen. The two employees ahead of him noticed Ren and shifted a step to the side.
*Ah. So that's how it is.*
Ren said nothing, took his meal, and sat at the farthest corner seat in the cafeteria. A small table against the wall. Here, at least, he'd be as inconspicuous as possible.
He took a sip of miso soup. Warm. But tasteless.
"Hey, look. That guy's still eating like nothing's wrong."
He could hear it. Voices meant to be heard. Ren stopped his chopsticks. He didn't look up. If he did, their eyes would meet.
"Thirty million, right? How can he just waltz into work like that?"
"And he's in accounting, too—no wonder he's dirty with money. It's always the quiet ones you can't tell what they're doing behind the scenes."
Ren sipped his miso soup. His throat was dry. No—that wasn't it. Deep in his chest, something was parched to dust.
It was the same as in college. When a seminar friend had framed him for data falsification, everyone had acted the same way. No one listened to Ren; they just decided he was guilty. Not the professor, not his friends—no one believed him.
*Same thing again.*
Ren set down his chopsticks. He couldn't eat anymore. He picked up his tray and stood. As he headed toward the dish return, voices stabbed into his back again.
"I hear he's gotten all full of himself just because the vice president took a liking to him."
Ren's feet stopped for just a moment.
The vice president. Himuro Rei. The ice-cold vice president he'd locked eyes with in that elevator hall.
*That man didn't say anything. He just looked at me.*
So why was there a rumor like that? Ren bit his lip and left the cafeteria.
Afternoon. Ren returned to the accounting floor and quietly kept working. There was a mountain of things to do. Expense reimbursement checks, departmental budget management, daily closing assistance. Ren was good at this kind of steady work. Only while facing numbers could he forget the unpleasant things.
But today was different.
"Mise-kun."
The one who spoke was Department Chief Saeki Yasuo. Fifty-five years old, gentle but indecisive. He walked all the way from his window-side chief's desk to Ren's seat.
"Chief."
Ren stood up. Saeki's expression was dark, just like that day.
"...Go to the 33rd floor. The vice president is calling for you."
Ren's fingertips twitched.
"The vice president, sir?"
"Yes. Vice President Himuro himself. He didn't tell me what it was about."
Saeki broke off awkwardly, then added quietly.
"...I know you're going through a lot. Go on."
Ren nodded. His heart was pounding loud enough to be annoying.
*What does the vice president want with me?*
No answer came. But he had no choice but to go. Ren lightly tidied his desk and left the floor. Countless gazes stabbed into his back.
"That guy's finally getting summoned, huh." "Of course. He's an embezzler."
Ren pretended not to hear and headed for the elevator hall.
The elevator for the executive floor was separate from the regular ones. Floors 31 through 35 were the executive floors, requiring an IC card and biometric authentication to enter. Ren stopped in front of the elevator and gripped his employee ID.
*Will my card even work?*
He nervously held his ID over the card reader. A soft beep. The doors opened.
Ren steadied his breathing, then stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button for the 33rd floor. The doors closed. Up. Up.
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened.
The 33rd floor. The executive floor. The air was different. It was a completely different world from the accounting floor on 12. Thick carpet covered the hallway, swallowing footsteps. Heavy wood-grain panels lined the walls. The lighting was soft, yet somehow cold.
Ren checked the directory and headed for the vice president's office. A heavy door. Beautiful wood grain. The handle was brass, cool to the touch.
Knock, knock.
Ren knocked twice.
"...Enter."
A low voice. Even through the door, he could tell. A voice like ice.
Ren opened the door.
The room was far larger than he'd imagined. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves held economics and literature books in orderly rows. A heavy leather sofa. From the window, Tokyo Bay stretched out in full view. Afternoon light reflected off the water's surface, glittering.
And beyond the large desk by the window, the man sat.
His short, silver-tinged dark gray hair was slicked back. Ice-cold blue-gray eyes. His tall frame—over six feet—radiated an overwhelming presence even while seated. He wore a black suit to perfection, his tie knot flawless. A small scar marked the tail of his left eyebrow.
Himuro Rei. Thirty-four. Vice president of Katsuragi Trading.
The man feared within the company as the "Ice Vice President." A perfectionist with merciless decisiveness. He never showed anyone his true feelings. It was said even executives hesitated to speak to him.
Ren stopped at the doorway. His legs wouldn't move.
*Such pressure.*
Ren bowed deeply.
"Y-you summoned me?"
His voice trembled. Pathetic. But there was nothing he could do about it.
Himuro didn't answer. Expressionless, he simply stared at Ren.
Silence.
One second. Two seconds. Three.
Ren listened to his own heartbeat. Deep in his chest, something pounded violently. His fingertips were cold. Sweat beaded on his skin.
*What's he going to say? Disciplinary dismissal? Or the police?*
The worst imaginable scenarios raced through Ren's mind. He'd torn up his resignation letter that day. But that resolve was still inside him.
*I decided to uncover the truth.*
And yet, right now, Ren felt like he might be crushed by a single word from the man before him.
"...You're Mise Ren."
Himuro finally spoke.
"Y-yes."
"Raise your head."
Ren timidly lifted his face. Himuro's blue-gray eyes pierced through him.
*What is this man thinking?*
Himuro slowly stood. Even through his suit, his trained physique was evident. Backlit by the window, he looked like a scene from a film.
Himuro came around the desk and stood before Ren. Fifteen centimeters taller. Looking down at him. But it wasn't just fear. For some reason, Ren couldn't look away.
"...I'll say this straight."
Himuro's voice was low and quiet.
"I will protect you."
Ren doubted his own ears.
"...What?"
He thought he'd misheard. No—he wished he'd misheard. Because it made no sense.
Himuro, without changing expression, said it again.
"I will protect you. That embezzlement case—you were framed. Your ID was stolen by Kurahashii Atsushi. I'll reinvestigate the evidence. I'll back you fully."
Ren's mind went blank.
Kurahashii. Kurahashii Atsushi. The kind senior who sat diagonally in front of him.
*Kurahashii-san stole my ID?*
"...W-why do you know that?"
Ren's voice was hoarse.
"Because I looked into it."
Himuro said it while looking straight into Ren's eyes.
"I independently analyzed the approval logs of the Katsuragi Finance Network. The records of logins under your ID are concentrated outside your normal working hours. The password was yours, but the terminal used to log in wasn't yours. It was Kurahashii's."
Ren was speechless.
"...But the chief said only I knew my password."
"You change your password regularly. Your previous password was left in Kurahashii's notes. He must have watched you before you changed it."
Ren's knees almost gave out in something like a laugh.
*Kurahashii-san... my password.*
When Ren had first joined the company, Kurahashii had taught him a lot. Whenever he didn't understand something, he went to Kurahashii first. Kurahashii always answered with a smile.
"You're really serious, aren't you."
He'd said that and clapped Ren on the shoulder. That hand—of all things.
"...Why me?"
Ren finally squeezed out the words.
"Why do you believe me? I'm just a regular employee, plain, with nothing special about me."
Himuro tilted his head slightly.
"I value your diligence."
Ren's eyes widened.
"You haven't been late a single time since joining. You take only the minimum paid leave. In expense checks, you've continued making the kind of detailed observations other departments hate, without ever cutting corners. I know that kind of person."
Himuro's voice was matter-of-fact. But each word struck deep into Ren's chest.
"...You knew? About me?"
Ren's voice trembled.
"Yes."
Himuro answered briefly.
"I've been watching you for a long time."
Something deep in Ren's chest grew warm.
*He was watching.*
He'd thought no one was watching. No one noticed. He'd thought there was no one who valued his work.
And yet, this man.
This man called the Ice Vice President.
Ren's vision blurred.
"...Nn."
No. Don't cry. Ren told himself. But the tears wouldn't stop.
*It's the first time. Someone believed in me.*
Not in college, not when his father's factory went bankrupt—no one had ever believed in Ren. He'd always carried everything alone, all of it alone.
And yet.
"...Thank you. Thank you so much."
Ren said it in a trembling voice.
"Thank you... I—I thought no one would ever believe me again..."
The tears wouldn't stop. Ren's face crumpled as he cried.
Himuro said nothing. He simply waited quietly until Ren stopped crying.
After a while, Ren wiped his tears and bowed deeply.
"I'm sorry. I lost composure. I'm fine now."
"...Don't push yourself."
Himuro's voice seemed just slightly softer.
"I'll handle the investigation. You continue your work as usual. But don't let Kurahashii catch on. I haven't yet grasped who's behind him."
Ren nodded.
"I understand. If there's anything I can do, please tell me."
Himuro looked into Ren's eyes.
"You don't need to do anything. Just believe in me."
Ren's heart leaped.
*Just believe in him.*
Ren gave a small nod.
"...I believe you."
The corner of Himuro's mouth softened, just slightly.
It was only for an instant. But Ren saw it clearly.
*He smiled.*
Ren felt warmth spreading deep in his chest.
When he left the vice president's office and returned to the accounting floor on the 12th, the air had grown even heavier.
The moment Ren stepped onto the floor, glances exchanged everywhere. Two female employees whispered by the break room. Near the copier, a male employee glanced at Ren and quickly looked away.
"Hey, he's back." "What did the vice president say to him?" "Isn't it obvious? He's getting fired."
Ren pretended not to hear and sat at his desk.
*No. It's not like that.*
He screamed it inside. But he couldn't say it aloud.
Starting the next day, Himuro began coming down to the accounting floor almost every day.
At first, he only passed by Ren's desk. But gradually, he started speaking to him.
"Mise. About that expense reimbursement the other day."
"Y-yes."
"There's something I want to confirm. Come to the 33rd floor later."
"...Yes."
Himuro said only that and left the floor briskly. Once again, gazes gathered around the abandoned
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