It was early afternoon when Yuri brought the dress. "I just knew this would look perfect on you!" What Yuri held out in both hands was a pale pink one-piece dress. When Kozue touched it, the fabric was soft, and the color seemed to shift depending on how the light caught it. It was different from anything she'd worn before. Whether it was the material or the cut, she couldn't quite put it into words—but all she could think was that it was beautiful. "But this looks so expensive..." "Just try it on. Your debut into high society is in two weeks. We need to make practice feel like the real thing." Pushed along by Yuri's insistence, Kozue changed into the dress. She stood in front of the mirror. It didn't feel like her. Her black hair, cut to her shoulders, seemed to float slightly against the pale pink. A small silver hairpin behind her left ear. That alone was proof that she was still herself. (This is so embarrassing.) Just then, the intercom buzzed. When she checked the monitor, a man with dark brown hair appeared on the screen. Yuto Setogawa. Instead of his usual suit, he wore a simple white shirt and black slacks. Somehow, it made him look fresh. "I've come for the dance lesson." When she opened the door, Yuto's eyes narrowed for just a moment as he looked at her. He seemed about to say something, but in the end, he only said, "It suits you." (I wish he'd react a little more at times like this.) Kozue thought it, but didn't say it aloud. Yuri settled onto the sofa, swinging her legs happily. "Then I'll be the audience." "We don't need an audience." "Aw, come on, I came all this way." Yuri pouted, but when Yuto quietly said just her name—"Yuri"—she reluctantly sank deeper into the sofa. She pulled out her smartphone and put in her earbuds. It was a clear signal that she was done engaging. In the center of the living room, only Yuto and Kozue stood facing each other. "The waltz is the foundation of high society dancing. You don't need to be perfect from the start. Just focus on catching the rhythm." Yuto's voice was calm as always. The tone of someone conducting a business meeting. Somehow, that made Kozue feel a little more at ease. "Um... the waltz is the one in three-four time, right?" "That's correct. One, two, three. One, two, three. Don't worry about your feet at first." Yuto extended his right hand smoothly toward her. She understood what it meant—take my hand. She understood, but for some reason, she couldn't move. Holding this person's hand made her terribly nervous for reasons she couldn't explain. (He's my fake fiancé, so this should be normal.) She told herself that, then hesitantly took Yuto's hand. It was warm. His fingers were long. So different from her own. And then Yuto's other hand came around her waist. —Close. Much closer than she'd expected. His white shirt filled her vision. He smelled like soap. It was such a simple scent, and yet somehow it captivated her completely. Kozue tried to look forward consciously, but she didn't know where to look, so her gaze ended up settling somewhere around his neck. "Relax. Trust me." His low voice resonated right beside her ear. Kozue's face grew warm. (It's not about trust—it's just that you're close. Too close.) A soft piano melody began to flow from the smartphone. Yuto took a step forward. Kozue hurried to move her feet, but the rhythm didn't match. She stepped with her right foot when she should have stepped with her left. "Oh, I'm sorry." "It's fine. Let's try again." The second time, she reversed right and left. "I-I'm sorry." "Don't rush. Take it slowly." He wasn't angry. He wasn't exasperated either. He simply said, quietly, let's try once more. Third time, fourth time. Kozue stumbled over her feet again and again. Each time, Yuto casually steadied her. The moment she faltered, his hand at her waist tightened slightly. That sensation lingered in her awareness. Fifth time. This time, the rhythm aligned just a little. "That's it. That's good enough." It was only a small compliment, but it resonated through her chest far more than she expected. She was happy. Purely, genuinely happy. Sixth time, seventh time. Gradually, she began to read Yuto's movements. The tilt of his body when he turned right, the shift of his weight when he pivoted left. She was far from perfect, but she felt like she could follow him now. "You're improving." "[surprised]Really?" Kozue looked up without thinking—and that was the moment. Her feet stopped. No—they tangled. Her right and left feet moved a beat too early, out of sync with the music. Her balance crumbled. She stumbled forward. "Ah!" In an instant, arms wrapped around her. Her face buried itself against Yuto's chest. She didn't fall. He held her back firmly, so she didn't fall. But that meant—right now, she was in his arms— Kozue froze. She couldn't move. Yuto, too, stopped for just a moment. Time seemed to stop for both of them. Slowly, Kozue lifted her face. Deep amber eyes looked directly at her. The distance was too close—she could see the color of his irises clearly. She'd never seen them from this near before, and yet somehow they were so calm. The complete opposite of the storm raging in her own chest. "[gentle]Are you all right?" His voice was low and quiet. "I... I'm sorry, I did it again." Kozue's voice was hoarse. Her face was burning. Her ears were burning. She thought about how red she must look to him, and that only made her face burn hotter. She tried to pull away. But her legs were still unsteady, and she couldn't manage it. Then the intercom buzzed. Both of them stopped moving at once. (Should I be relieved, or should I feel interrupted?) Kozue didn't know. Her heart was only beating louder than the intercom's sound. Yuto checked the monitor and said, "It's Hinata." Kozue took a deep breath and smoothed her hair. She tugged at the hem of her dress and tried to compose her expression as much as possible. When she opened the door, a man wearing black-framed glasses stood there. Shoichi Hinata. Yuto's secretary—the one who'd explained the contract to her. His usual calculated quietness. But today, his gaze behind his glasses moved once between Kozue and Yuto. The center of the living room, where the two of them had been standing. The music still playing faintly. Kozue's flushed face. It was as if he'd read it all in a single instant. "[cold]Am I interrupting?" "No. We were just having a dance lesson." Yuto's voice was as usual. Unruffled. Kozue felt a twinge of envy. Hinata handed some documents to Yuto. Then he turned his gaze to Kozue. "[serious]It's important to behave as a fiancée should. In high society, many people will be watching your relationship. Especially—first impressions don't fade." There was something complex in those words. Kozue met Hinata's eyes. Cold. Always cold. But today, beneath that coldness, something else seemed mixed in. An emotion she couldn't quite name. Something that seemed painful, perhaps. Or like he was enduring something. "Thank you, Hinata." Kozue bowed politely. Hinata said nothing. He had Yuto review the documents, exchanged a few brief words, and then left again. The door closed. Yuri, still wearing her earbuds, murmured "Ugh" softly from the sofa. Kozue heard it, but pretended she hadn't. "Hinata is actually a kind person, despite how he appears." Yuto said it while looking out the window. His tone had shifted slightly. "He worries about me. That's why he speaks that way." Kozue looked at his profile. (Worry, then.) It was hard to imagine Shoichi Hinata worrying about anyone, given those cold eyes. But if Yuto said so, then that must be who he was. Kozue turned her gaze to the window. The evening light cast an orange glow across Tokyo's buildings. Two weeks until her debut party at Grand Veil Tokyo. The Tsushima clan's blood relation approval review was still ahead. (There's so much to do.) But right now, before any of that, she was preoccupied with something that kept echoing in her chest. The warmth of being held by Yuto. The distance that was too close. Those amber eyes. (This is just practice for acting like a fiancée.) She tried telling herself that. But the words caught somewhere inside her and wouldn't fall into place.