The clock struck exactly seven in the evening. Beyond the frosted glass windows of the cramped establishment, the bustling district of Shinjuku was just beginning to awaken. The city streets hastily threw on their signature evening attire, a flashy, extravagant coat of blinding neon lights that painted the concrete sidewalks in chaotic shades of electric pink and artificial blue.
It was a chaotic symphony of urban life, a place where the air vibrated with the endless footsteps of weary salarymen and overly energetic youths.
However, inside this particular, tightly packed izakaya, the atmosphere was entirely different. The small tavern was completely saturated with the heavy, suffocating scent of cheap, unrefined sake mixed with the thick, greasy smoke billowing from the charcoal grills. In a dimly lit, secluded corner of the tavern, far away from the noisy businessmen attempting to drink away their corporate sorrows, sat three male university freshmen. They were huddled around a remarkably small, slightly sticky wooden table that seemed entirely inadequate for their collective presence.
Scattered across the scratched surface of the table was a chaotic mess of half-eaten bar food. Several skewers of grilled chicken, their fatty edges still sizzling and popping audibly against the ceramic plates, lay abandoned. They were carelessly tossed next to a small, chipped bowl overflowing with partially bitten edamame pods, the salty green beans serving as the only meager companion to the cheap alcohol they had been consuming.
Kinoshita Kazuya slowly raised a large, heavy glass mug of freezing cold draft beer. The glass was weeping with thick beads of condensation that slicked against his palm. He brought the rim to his lips and took a deliberate, measured sip. A thick rim of pure white foam clung stubbornly to his upper lip. With a motion so unhurried and casually composed it bordered on the theatrical, he raised the back of his hand and wiped the foam away.
He let out a long, drawn out exhale.
It was a solitary sigh, yet it carried an aura of absolute, impenetrable silence that seemed to freeze the very air around their corner booth.
The sensation expanding within his chest cavity at this exact moment was utterly bizarre. It was a profound emptiness, but not the kind born of despair. Rather, it was the hollowness of a freshly excavated site. Ever since the late afternoon, ever since he had calmly opened his mouth and unleashed words as cold and precise as a surgical scalpel, stripping away the narcissistic, manipulative mask of Mami Nanami and turning his back on her without a single ounce of hesitation, something fundamental had shifted.
The suffocating, leaden weight that bore the pathetic name of "lovesickness", a burden solely belonging to the original owner of this body, the pathetic Kinoshita Kazuya, had been utterly and completely pulverized into dust. The pathetic tightness in his windpipe, the gnawing anxiety in his gut, the excruciating agony of a broken heart, all of it had vanished without a single trace.
This physical vessel was now entirely, flawlessly synchronized with his own chillingly pragmatic soul. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over his senses. It was the exact, unparalleled liberation a patient might feel after personally slicing a malignant, parasitic tumor out of their own flesh just seconds before it could metastasize into their brain. He was finally free from the toxic biological programming of a desperate young man.
However, the profound serenity radiating from his relaxed posture was in terrifying, stark contrast to the absolute meltdown currently happening to the two individuals sitting directly across from him.
Yoshiaki Kibe and Shun Kuribayashi were sitting completely paralyzed. They looked as though they had been struck by lightning, turned to stone by the gaze of a mythical beast. The large glasses of draft beer in their respective hands remained entirely full, the carbonated bubbles slowly dying out as the liquid grew warm.
Both young men were currently using the exact same wide eyed, unblinking stare to look at Kazuya. It was the specific type of horrified gaze one might reserve for witnessing a grotesque alien creature crawl out of the skin of their best friend.
"You... what the hell did you just say?" Kibe blinked his eyes rapidly, his usually booming voice cracking and turning incredibly hoarse from the sheer magnitude of his shock. "You dumped Mami? You dumped Nanami Mami? The exact same girl that you were violently, pathetically bawling your eyes out over in your apartment just yesterday because she demanded a breakup?"
"I did not use the word 'dumped'." Kazuya placed his heavy beer mug back down onto the sticky wooden surface. He extended a single finger, slowly and rhythmically tapping a steady beat against the condensation covered glass.
His voice dropped an octave. It was remarkably smooth, dripping with a strange, velvety calmness that lacked even a single microscopic trace of anger, bitterness, or elevated volume. "I simply did her a favor. I helped her confront the undeniable reality that she is nothing more than a hollow, superficial narcissist cunt. I merely pulled the curtains down on her pathetic little theatrical performance before she could waste any more of my valuable time, or her own, for that matter."
Kuribayashi swallowed hard. The audible gulp echoed loudly in the quiet corner. He nervously pushed his thick framed glasses further up the bridge of his nose. For absolutely no logical reason, a sudden, biting chill ran straight up his spine.
His best friend was clearly smiling right now. The tone of his voice was gentle, almost soothing. But Kuribayashi could swear on the heavens above, the sheer detached apathy with which Kazuya was describing the total severing of ties with the woman he supposedly loved to the point of self destruction was terrifying. It sounded exactly like a seasoned, emotionless butcher casually explaining the most efficient method to strip the meat from the bones of a slaughtered pig.
Kazuya's pitch black eyes lacked any focal point of sorrow. They were completely devoid of light, incredibly sharp, and utterly, terrifyingly apathetic.
"Kazuya, are you... are you seriously okay?" Kibe hesitated, his large, calloused hand clumsily running through his messy blonde hair. "Listen to me, man. I know getting cheated on, or getting thrown away by a girl hurts like absolute hell. But you don't have to put up this absurd tough guy act. You cannot just bottle all this emotional trauma up inside until you suffer a complete psychological breakdown and develop schizophrenia. We are your brothers. We are here for you. If you need to cry, just scream it out..."
"Kibe." Kazuya cut him off smoothly.
The corners of Kazuya's mouth twitched upward, forming a faint, ghostly smirk. He leaned his torso slightly forward across the table. His pitch black pupils locked directly onto Kibe's widening eyes with the precision of a laser sight. The sudden, intense psychological pressure radiating from Kazuya caused the large, muscular blonde youth to involuntarily shudder and press his back firmly against the wooden booth.
"Do I truly look like a man who is bottling up a mental breakdown?" Kazuya asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I called the two of you out to this dingy pub tonight to drink beer and celebrate because I finally finished taking out a massive pile of rotting garbage, not to rant or something."
A heavy, suffocating blanket of silence descended upon their corner of the izakaya. Kibe and Kuribayashi slowly turned their heads to exchange a deeply disturbed glance. In that fleeting moment of eye contact, a crystal clear truth dawned upon both of them. The cowardly, highly delusional, desperately clingy Kazuya who would follow a girl like a lost puppy was completely dead.
The entity currently occupying the seat across from them radiated the intense, suffocating aura of a fully matured, highly extreme, and entirely unpredictable apex predator.
Sensing that the atmosphere was rapidly approaching a critical, suffocating level of tension, Kuribayashi frantically clapped his hands together with a loud smack. He forcefully stretched his facial muscles into a wide, incredibly strained smile, desperately attempting to shatter the freezing aura permeating the booth.
"Alright, alright! That is enough of that! Let us completely drop the subject of that toxic woman! Out with the old, in with the new, right?!" Kuribayashi reached into his pocket with exaggerated enthusiasm and yanked out his smartphone. He quickly unlocked the glowing screen. "If you have truly reached a state of emotional enlightenment, then I am incredibly happy for you, Kazuya! To properly commemorate the grand event of our boy Kazuya officially returning to the glorious brotherhood of single men, I have an absolutely brilliant proposal!"
"Tell me, i'm listening." Kazuya slowly leaned his back against the rigid wooden chair, casually crossing his arms over his chest.
"Diamond! It is the absolute number one, top rated rental girlfriend app in all of Japan right now!" Kuribayashi enthusiastically shoved the brightly glowing smartphone across the sticky table, stopping it right in front of Kazuya.
Displayed on the vibrant screen was a highly polished interface drowning in sickeningly sweet shades of pastel pink. The screen was populated by dozens upon dozens of high resolution photographs featuring incredibly beautiful, flawless girls. They were beaming with bright, radiant smiles, dressed in every conceivable type of fashionable outfit from casual streetwear to elegant evening dresses.
"What do you think, huh? For the incredibly low price of just a few thousand yen an hour, you have the supreme privilege of going on a date with top tier, premium beauties! Girls that average, unremarkable guys like us would never even have the chance to hold an umbrella for in real life! You have a ton of free time right now, do you not? Rent a gorgeous girl! Take her to an amusement park, hold her soft hands, go for a romantic stroll! I absolutely guarantee that every single ounce of your boredom and lingering negativity will be completely washed away!"
Kazuya stared blankly at the brightly illuminated screen of the smartphone. His dark eyes did not reflect even a single, microscopic spark of masculine desire or biological interest. Instead, his gaze was intensely calculating and entirely devoid of warmth. He looked exactly like a ruthless corporate auditor meticulously scanning a disastrous financial report that was bleeding red ink.
He let out a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head. Using a single index finger, he slowly pushed the smartphone back across the table toward Kuribayashi. His voice remained incredibly soft and soothing, yet the pure, unadulterated mockery hidden beneath the smooth delivery was as sharp as a newly honed razor blade.
"Are you seriously advising me to literally throw my hard earned cash out of a moving window, Kuri?"
"Throwing money away? What in the world are you talking about?" Kuribayashi's eyes widened behind his thick lenses. "This is a premium service! It provides an incredibly valuable spiritual and emotional experience!"
Kazuya let out a long breath, a dry, humorless chuckle escaping his throat. He placed his elbows firmly on the table and slowly intertwined his fingers, resting his chin upon his hands as he looked at his foolish friends.
"A spiritual experience? Kuri, you're paying 15,000 yen for a corporate-mandated smile and a rented hand. It's pure capitalism. In Kabukicho, that same money buys absolute honesty and no hypocritical emotional baggage."
The two young men sitting across from him completely dropped their jaws. Kibe's lower jaw hung open so wide it looked as though it was desperately trying to make physical contact with the floor underneath the table. Kuribayashi was so fundamentally shocked by the sheer vulgarity and cold logic of the statement that his hand flew to his face, violently knocking his glasses completely askew.
These two were naive university freshmen. Their brains were still completely saturated with juvenile, fairy tale dreams of pure romance and innocent love. The fact that Kazuya, a pathetic loser who historically would blush bright red and hyperventilate if a girl simply made eye contact with him on the street, was now sitting here utilizing an aura of absolute, terrifying calmness to equate the trendy concept of 'renting a girlfriend' with soliciting prostitution in a red light district was mind bending.
Furthermore, the fact that he was explicitly praising the sex workers for their superior level of 'honesty' and 'transparency' had violently struck their delicate moral compasses like a runaway freight train. It was a complete and total destruction of their worldview.
"You... you have completely lost your damn mind, Kazuya." Kibe stammered out, his voice shaking. "How in the world did your brain become this extreme and pitch black? We just wanted you to have a single, fun, relaxing date to help you forget about Mami! That is all!"
Kazuya simply shrugged his shoulders, seemingly entirely unaffected by their moral outrage. He lifted his glass and took another small sip of the warm beer. "I am not being extreme. I am simply viewing the world through the unclouded lens of objective reality. To me, this entire rental girlfriend gimmick is utterly tasteless, deeply pathetic, and a catastrophic waste of capital."
The sheer, immovable calmness radiating from Kazuya seemed to violently strike the core of Kuribayashi's pride. The bespectacled youth had always loudly prided himself on being incredibly 'experienced' and 'knowledgeable' regarding the intricate mechanics of various dating applications.
He slammed his open palm violently against the wooden table. The remaining edamame beans jumped into the air from the force of the impact. He tilted his chin up, his face flushed red with defensive anger and a clear challenge.
"Don't sit there lecturing us with this arrogant, theoretical nonsense, acting like you have the cynical mindset of a bitter, forty year old divorced man!" Kuribayashi provoked him, his tone dripping with absolute bitterness and wounded pride. "You have never even tried the service! How can you possibly claim it holds absolutely zero value? You claim it is a complete waste of money, do you not? Fine! If you genuinely, truly believe that engaging in this service is equivalent to throwing cash out the window, then Kibe and I will personally sponsor the entire cost of your very first rental date!"
"Wait, what?! Me?!" Kibe flinched violently, raising a thick finger and pointing it directly at his own face in sheer panic. However, upon receiving a deadly, highly communicative glare from Kuribayashi, the large youth forcefully gritted his teeth and nodded in forced agreement. "Uh... yeah! That is right! We will cover the bill for you! We will personally force you to explore an entirely new horizon!"
Kazuya completely froze his motion of bringing the beer glass back to his lips. He slowly lowered the mug back to the table, tilting his head slightly to the side. He silently observed the two idiots sitting across from him, who were currently radiating an intense, burning passion to forcefully 'fix' his supposed mental trauma.
Naturally, the most logical course of action would be to flatly reject their ridiculous proposal, stand up, and walk out of the establishment. He had absolutely zero obligation to indulge their childish fantasies.
However, the very second the word "sponsor" registered in his auditory cortex, the hyper calculating, deeply pragmatic engine of his reincarnated brain sparked with a rather bold, highly opportunistic thought process.
Casually accepting this ridiculous challenge was objectively the fastest, most efficient method to permanently shut the mouths of these two idiots who were currently overflowing with unwanted, nauseating pity for him. It would decisively prevent them from continually harassing him with their sickeningly sweet, romanticized speeches about the healing power of love.
"An entirely new horizon, is it?" Kazuya let out a soft, breathy laugh. His dark eyes glittered with a profound, cutting layer of deep seated mockery. "Fine. If the two of you possess such an overwhelming, burning desire to set your own money on fire, then I'm more than willing to be the man holding the match. Hand over the phone."
Kuribayashi's face lit up with an expression of pure, unadulterated triumph, looking as though he had just struck gold. He frantically unlocked the smartphone screen once again and practically shoved the device directly into Kazuya's waiting hands.
Kazuya grasped the cold metal edges of the smartphone. He raised his thumb and lightly swiped across the glossy screen.
Instantly assaulting his retinas, sitting proudly upon the absolute highest throne in the Number One Trending spot of the Diamond app, was a heavily decorated profile boasting a flawless, absolute five star rating.
Mizuhara Chizuru. Premium Class Girlfriend. Pure, Innocent, and Gentle.
Directly beneath this masterpiece of a photograph was an endless, scrolling wall of text composed of hundreds of glowing reviews. Desperate men were practically writing religious hymns, praising her as a literal goddess descended from the heavens, declaring her the absolute, undisputed, flawless perfect girlfriend.
"Perfect. It is entirely too perfect." Kazuya thought to himself, the corner of his mouth twitching violently in a silent display of pure disgust.
Drawing heavily upon his extensive past life experience navigating the treacherous, snake infested waters of the digital entertainment industry, and having personally dealt with dozens upon dozens of highly manipulative, two faced female streamers, Kazuya intimately understood one absolute, undeniable truth of the universe.
The more flawless the external shell appeared to be, the more a persona was artificially constructed to lack even a single microscopic scratch, the more utterly rotten, calculated, and terrifying the core underneath truly was. An authentic, genuine human being could never, under any circumstances, maintain that level of a flawless, industrial grade smile without possessing a deeply ingrained, terrifyingly profound level of psychological manipulation and mental calculation.
His thumb moved with ruthless efficiency, swiping entirely past the name Mizuhara Chizuru without a single fraction of a second of hesitation. He began scrolling rapidly down the screen, diving deep into the lower tier ranking zones of the application, hunting through the profiles reserved for the unpolished rookies and newcomers to the industry.
He absolutely required a target who was adequately dull. He needed someone sufficiently clumsy. He was searching for an individual whom he could effortlessly psychologically control, allowing him to breeze through this mandatory walking simulator date exactly as if he were mindlessly grinding out a daily performance quota for a corporate job.
And then, Kazuya's thumb abruptly stopped its motion.
Displayed upon the glowing screen was the incredibly amateurish profile of a young girl. She possessed dark hair that was bluntly cut just above her shoulders. Sitting prominently atop her head was a highly conspicuous, bright blue ribbon. Her eyes were large and completely round, projecting a strong aura of childish innocence, yet simultaneously harboring a very strange, deeply stubborn rebellious streak hidden within her gaze.
Sarashina Ruka. Average Rating: 3.5 Stars.
Kazuya firmly tapped the screen, opening the detailed review section of her profile.
In stark, aggressive contrast to the thousands of perfectly uniform, empty praises decorating Chizuru's page, the reviews detailing the experiences with Ruka were an absolute, chaotic mess.
A genuine, chillingly cold smile finally surfaced on Kazuya's lips.
She was nothing more than a bratty, inexperienced high school student foolishly attempting to play dress up as a mature adult on a premium dating app. She was completely childish, entirely green, operating purely on erratic instinct, and severely lacking any of the polished, manipulative refinement of the top tier girls.
"Going on a paid date with a high school girl through a digital application..." Kazuya muttered beneath his breath, slowly shaking his head in profound, utter weariness. "This entire circus is leading absolutely nowhere."
"What are you mumbling about over there?" Kuribayashi leaned his torso across the table, desperately craning his neck in a vain attempt to peek at the phone screen. "Did you manage to pick a girl yet?"
Kazuya carelessly tossed the expensive smartphone back onto the center of the wooden table. The hard plastic casing made a sharp, dry clacking sound as it collided with the wood.
"Sarashina Ruka. Just book her." Kazuya issued the command. His tone of voice was completely flat, a monotonous drone entirely stripped of any human emotion. "This coming Saturday. Exactly 1:00 PM in the afternoon. The amusement park located near Shinjuku Station. Pay the upfront fee immediately and forward the digital confirmation code to my personal device."
Kuribayashi eagerly snatched the phone up from the table. He let out a highly audible sigh of immense relief the moment his eyes registered Ruka's incredibly cheap hourly rate. His thumbs flew across the screen in a blur as he rapidly executed the booking procedure.
"Consider it done! You better mentally prepare yourself for this, Kazuya. I am willing to bet serious money that this energetic little girl with the blue ribbon is going to completely shatter your dark, twisted perspective on love!"
"Love?" Kazuya repeated the word. It sounded foreign and metallic coming from his lips.
He slowly picked up his glass and unceremoniously drained the entire remaining volume of warm beer down his throat. "Don't ever confuse the concept of love with a basic exchange of commercial services, Kuri."
Kazuya placed the empty glass onto the table with a final, echoing thud. He smoothly pushed his chair back, standing up to his full height as he casually grabbed his jacket from the back of the seat.
"I'll meet this brat. But don't hold your breath expecting a romantic comedy..."