[MashUp] Ch 8: Just A Kept Man

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"Then I'll just take that as a compliment."

Takuma's lips curved in a smile.

Alisa's chest tightened.

That little Russian phrase—Náglyy úblyudok, "shameless bastard"—had been her secret, her tiny victory.

But the way Takuma brushed it off, utterly unfazed, smothered her pride in an instant. Like punching cotton. No resistance, no satisfaction.

…

The next thirty minutes were nothing short of public execution.

Takuma was basically a human crane.

Boxes Alisa thought were heavy enough to crush her, he lifted as if they were styrofoam.

Meanwhile, she was left trailing behind with a few books or some scattered odds and ends, clinging desperately to the last shreds of her dignity—"see, I'm helping too."

Every time she staggered into the elevator clutching a small carton, Takuma was already there waiting, calm as ever, balancing two massive crates with ease.

No mockery, no words. Just that steady, indifferent gaze. More devastating than ridicule.

…

Finally, when the last box was carried up, Alisa followed Takuma into the fifth-floor hallway.

She thought they'd go all the way to the end—until he stopped. He leaned a box casually against the wall beside… her neighbor's door?

She froze.

Her eyes darted from Takuma, to the door, to the number on her own keys: 502.

They were in front of 501.

Alisa just blinked, confused, until Takuma explained that it was his room.

"..."

WTF?

The shameless bastard. He—he—

He was her next-door neighbor?!

Takuma continued and opened 502's door with his free hand and set the box inside.

"All done."

Dusting off his palms, he turned back, meeting Alisa's stunned gaze.

Her face was flushed from exhaustion and shock alike. Her lips parted, countless words tangling in her throat, until only two slipped out.

"…Thank you."

The sound was barely louder than a mosquito hum.

Then, flustered, she blurted, "Wait—wait here! I… I'm changing clothes!"

No way was she going out looking this disheveled. 

"Sure." Takuma leaned lazily against her doorframe. "And you pick the restaurant."

He paused, adding with a teasing smile, "After all, this is your 'payment.' It's only fair you choose the place."

Her chest tightened again, anger sparking—but she had no argument.

"Neighbor-chan, I'll be waiting at home."

Bang.

The door to 502 slammed shut.

Inside, Alisa leaned back against it, listening to the faint sound of his own door opening and closing next door.

Her heart still pounded wildly.

She glanced down at her sweat-stained sweater and dust-smeared pants, remembering Takuma's effortless strength, his calm.

Shame and frustration tangled inside her, burning hot.

Dammit. He had already seen the worst of Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou.

Fine, then.

Next, she'd make him witness the best.

…

Thirty minutes later

Ding-dong.

Takuma opened 501's door. His brows rose slightly. The bedraggled girl from earlier had vanished.

In her place stood a princess doll come to life.

Alisa's silver hair was brushed to a glossy shine, falling in silky waves over her shoulders.

She wore a fitted white winter dress, the cut hugging her slender waist and soft curves without a trace of bulk. The faint fragrance of fresh soap lingered in the air.

His gaze wavered, and Alisa noticed.

A blush bloomed across her pale cheeks. Nervously, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"L-let's go."

She tried to sound steady, smiling faintly, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her nerves.

…

By noon

The two of them walking side by side down the street were nothing short of a spectacle.

Silver hair, striking looks.

One—handsome and lazy. The other—delicate and cold.

They looked like manga main characters stepped off the page.

Passersby gawked openly.

"Wow… that couple is gorgeous!"

"Are they celebrities? They're glowing!"

Huh? Couple.

The word stabbed into Alisa's ears.

She whipped her head toward Takuma, hissing under her breath.

"Dúrak!" (Baka!)

Takuma raised a brow. "Complimenting me again?"

"I said you walk too slow!"

With that, Alisa marched ahead, quick steps stiff with irritation.

But the red tips of her ears betrayed her fluster.

Eventually, she led him into a tidy little family restaurant.

"Welcome—"

The hostess froze, blinking at them, stunned by their appearance.

As she guided them inside, customers at nearby tables couldn't help staring.

Behind the counter, a cluster of waitresses whispered excitedly.

"Oh my god, that table is unreal!"

"That silver-haired guy is so hot—kinda aloof too!"

"His girlfriend looks like a princess! They're perfect together!"

The voices were hushed, but Alisa still heard them.

Her cheeks burned hotter and hotter, until she thought steam might rise off her skin.

Under the table, her foot in its neat white boot tensed—then nudged Takuma's leg with a little stomp of pent-up irritation.

All your fault.

She yanked up the menu like a shield, hiding her flaming face behind it.

Takuma chuckled inwardly, but outwardly stayed patient.

When the waitress came, Alisa still didn't lower the menu. She just jabbed a finger at it and rattled off at lightning speed,

"One hamburger steak set… and this, the chocolate lava parfait."

The waitress jotted it down and turned to Takuma.

"Curry rice," he said casually.

Once she left, his gaze flicked back to Alisa.

"A parfait, huh? Do you always reach for sweets when you're nervous? How cute."

Her head snapped up, fingers tightening on the menu.

"I-I just like sweets! It's not because I'm nervous!"

Her tone was fierce, but the color in her cheeks gave her away.

Takuma didn't press. Instead, he shifted gears. "Speaking of which… where's your family?"

He leaned back, eyes calm. "Why were you moving in all alone? Don't they worry?"

The question was natural.

But Alisa froze.

She hadn't expected him to ask something… warm.

"They're… busy with work."

Her voice shrank softer. "I transferred schools, so I came early by myself."

"Transferred?"

She nodded, gaining a bit of steadiness on familiar ground.

"Starting tomorrow, I'll be at Ichinose Academy."

Then, straightening her back with pride, she added, "And soon, my sister will transfer too. We'll live together."

At the mention of Ichinose Academy, Takuma's smile shifted—surprise, amusement, and keen interest all mingled there.

"Is that so? Quite the coincidence."

That was all he said.

Now curiosity flared in her instead. She had revealed so much, but this man remained cloaked in mystery.

She gathered her courage. "What about you?"

Her eyes studied him.

"Today's… a weekday, isn't it? Don't you have school?"

Takuma set down his water glass, leaning back, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"School?"

As if he'd just heard the funniest joke. "Why would I go to school?"

"Ehh?"

Alisa blinked, stunned. "You're not… a high school student?"

"Of course not."

His reply was crisp, casual.

Her brain stalled.

Not a student? Then—

"What do you do, then?" she pressed.

Her earnest expression, full of curiosity, made Takuma's smile deepen.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice like sharing a secret.

"Me? … I'm being kept."

"Wha—?!"

Alisa's mind exploded.

Kept man?

This guy was impossible. Was he seriously joking about something so absurd? 

She huffed softly, muttering in Russian,

"Negodyáy…" (Bastard…)

"Complimenting me again?" he asked, feigning innocence.

Her lips curved into a sweet, fake smile. "Of course. I was praising what an honest man you are."

She didn't believe him. Logic said it was nonsense.

But still…

If he wasn't being kept—

Then how could a boy who looked barely eighteen spend a weekday afternoon with no school, no work, no worries?

He was a bundle of contradictions, wrapped in mystery.

…

Lunch ended under that one-sided "I know you're fuckin lying" atmosphere.

When they stepped outside, they walked side by side down the street.

At a crossroads, Takuma stopped.

"I'm heading this way. Need to grab a few things at the supermarket."

"Mm," Alisa murmured, turning to go the other direction.

"Oh, and…"

His voice stopped her. She glanced back.

Takuma stood there, calm, his gaze steady. "Moving in the first day's exhausting. Don't try to sort everything at once."

"Rest early. Don't push yourself."

With a lazy wave, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

"..."

Alisa lingered where she was, staring after him.

Something nudged at her chest, soft and bittersweet.

That infuriating man… could be surprisingly considerate.

She shook her head, muttering in Russian, "Stránniy…" (Weird guy…)

…

Meanwhile...

Takuma pushed a cart straight toward the supermarket's produce aisle.

Stocking up for Mafuyu Kirisu's dinner and tomorrow's breakfast—part of his duty as a "kept man."

And, naturally, on her card. She'd left it out this morning, right on the shoe cabinet.

At checkout, the cashier handed him a slip. "Congratulations, sir! You've qualified for our anniversary lottery!"

Takuma passed it over to the staffer at the prize table without much thought.

The box rattled as they spun it.

Clatter.

A golden ball dropped out. The bell rang loud and triumphant.

"Congratulations, sir!" the announcer cried.

"You've won our grand prize—exclusive harvesting rights to the legendary Tsukimiyama matsutake!"

Gasps rippled through the shoppers.

"The phantom matsutake?!"

"The one that only appears after rain? They say its flavor fades by the minute—freshness is everything!"

"Worth more than gold! If the Tōtsuki elites heard this, they'd lose their minds!"

"Anyone in Tōtsuki Culinary Academy will do anything to buy it."

"Indeed, my mum's brother's cousin's uncle once told me... "

"..."

Takuma's upgraded [Housekeeping Template Lv.2] stirred instinctively. His interest was caught.

The staff handed him a stamped map, urging,

"Sir, it rained this morning—the perfect time! If you go now, you'll find the best specimens!"

He took the map.

Already, visions of crafting the perfect dish from that dream ingredient flickered in his mind. Without hesitation, he picked up his groceries and left.

…

Deep in Tsukimiyama

Rain pounded against massive scales, but couldn't wash away the pain. Vision blurred. Only tangled trees and this world's cold, cruel laws remained.

A body—pierced by the so-called divine blade.

Fleeing… into this stinking, iron-tainted land.

Strength bleeding away fast. So cold.

"I…"

"I think I'm about to die…"

.

.

.

Trivia:

- Dúrak → Дурак

- Negodyáy → Негодяй

- Stránniy → Странный