Chapter 20: Cherry blossom Princess || Sakura-hime

  Yuki’s school, Ichigaya, Shinjuku-ku → October 28th, 2022

  “She was the embodiment of innocence that fell for danger”

  Miyu saw Shunsuke shaking, the dread stark in his eyes.

  She took his hand gently, and he looked at her, his gaze filled with pain.

  “Someone took a photo of us—with Yuki and Kuro,” his voice trembled. “They posted it on social media, and they tagged me…”

  His voice broke; he knew the imminent danger Miyu and Yuki were now facing.

  “I’m sorry, Miyu,” he whispered.

  Miyu shook her head. “Don’t apologize. You’re not at fault. It’s your crazy fanbase,” she said softly. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

  Shunsuke looked at her, attempting a smile. “Thank you. I need to call my agency manager. Maybe we can do something.”

  Miyu nodded.

  From the back seat, Yuki’s soft voice cut through.

  “What is wrong, Papa?”

  Miyu looked back and smiled. “Some people took a photo of us without permission, and Shunsuke needs them to delete it,” she explained gently to Yuki.

  Kuro settled onto Yuki’s lap, nudging her for cuddles. The child hugged the raccoon tightly.

  “Is it bad that people see us as family?” she asked sadly.

  Shunsuke turned and shook his head. “No, Yuki-chan. But there are some people who don’t like it, and they might try to hurt you and Mama,” he said softly, his hand reaching back to pat her head.

  Yuki nodded gently.

  Shunsuke grabbed his phone and quickly dialed the number for his agency manager, putting the call on speakerphone.

  After a few tense seconds, a voice came through.

  “Yoshida speaking. I expected to hear from you, Ishihara.” The voice held a touch of amusement. “We’re already doing damage control.”

  Shota Yoshida, his manager—a friendly, professional man in his mid-thirties—had often proven invaluable to Shunsuke, particularly when his real identity had once nearly been exposed.

  “I’m sorry for the mess, Yoshida-san,” Shunsuke said politely. “I should have been more careful.”

  A chuckle came from the other end. “Everything is alright. We know here at the agency that you’re in a relationship. Everything is fine on our end. We’ll handle your fanbase.”

  Shunsuke let out the breath he’d been holding. “Thank you. If you need me to come in, please let me know,” he said, relieved.

  “Not today. Enjoy your birthday, Ishihara.”

  Shunsuke smiled. “I will, Yoshida. Thank you.”

  The call ended, and Shunsuke visibly relaxed.

  Shunsuke sat in the driver’s seat for a while, Miyu’s hand resting gently on his leg—a quiet comfort. He exhaled, the tension leaving him with the breath, and finally allowed himself to relax.

  “We can drive now,” he said, his voice steady as he started the engine.

  “Are you sure, Shunsuke?” Miyu’s tone held concern.

  He nodded softly. “Yes. I’m okay now. Just needed a moment to breathe.” A faint smile touched his lips as he glanced at her.

  Then, shifting his gaze to the rearview mirror, he spoke more softly. “And how was your day at school, Yuki-chan?”

  Yuki’s face lit up as she hugged Kuro close. The raccoon chirped, a small, cheerful sound.

  “It was amazing, Papa!” she said brightly. “You, Mama, and Kuro picked me up!”

  The drive to Miyu’s parents’ house passed in silence. In the backseat, Yuki hummed softly, cuddling Kuro against her chest, oblivious to the heavy thoughts that filled the car. Up front, Shunsuke and Miyu were lost in their own minds, already planning how to shield Yuki from the fallout that was sure to come.

  The photo was out now—his photo—with Miyu, Yuki, and Kuro beside him. It wouldn’t take long before the chaos began. His fanbase would dissect every detail, twisting it in their obsession, convinced that Shun Ishihara belonged to them alone. And once they realized the woman beside him was Shion—the idolized model, the image of purity—the outrage would double.

  Few women wore soft pink hair like Miyu. It was a signature impossible to hide. And her own fans wouldn’t be kind either when they discovered she had fallen for him—the untouchable, sensual, mature man they had turned into a fantasy.

  Miyu rested her hand on his arm, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin.

  “What are you thinking about, Shunsuke?” she asked softly.

  His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead.

  “If you weren’t a model too…” he began, his voice low. “I’d just go in front of my fans and tell them my real name.”

  Miyu turned to him, eyes glistening. She didn’t need to ask what he meant. If Shunsuke revealed his true identity, his connection to the Kawamura-gumi would surface and everything tied to Shun Ishihara would vanish. It would be career suicide, a clean erasure, as if that persona had never existed at all.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  He was ready to destroy everything he’d built for her, for Yuki.

  “We’ll find another way, Shunsuke,” she murmured. “But knowing you’d go that far… it means everything to me.”

  Shunsuke gave her a fleeting smile before turning his eyes back to the road.

  “I’d do anything to keep you and Yuki safe,” he said quietly. Then, after a pause, his tone grew heavier. “But it wouldn’t only affect you.”

  She looked at him, the weight of his words already sinking in.

  “Everyone knows Ryuichi is my brother,” he continued. “If I revealed my real name…”

  Miyu nodded slowly, she understood without him finishing. The university would dig deeper, uncover that Ryuichi was officially a Kawamura too, and that would be the end of his future in law. They’d never let him take the exams.

  “Shunsuke… we’ll find another way,” she whispered.

  He nodded once, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. “I hope we do.”

  Miyu’s phone began to ring. She pulled it from her purse, and the moment she saw the number, she froze.

  Shunsuke didn’t need to ask, he already knew who it was.

  So, it happened. His fanbase had connected the dots. The truth was out now: Shun Ishihara and Shion were more than just colleagues, more than friends.

  He’d been fortunate with his agency. When he told them about Miyu and Yuki, they didn't object. They even welcomed it in private, so long as the relationship stayed out of the public eye.

  Miyu’s agency, however, had not been as accepting. Shun Ishihara didn’t fit the image they had so carefully built for her: soft, innocent, pure. Her fans called her Sakura-hime—the cherry blossom princess. She had been scouted for her uniqueness, for the gentle charm of her pastel-pink hair.

  Now that very uniqueness would make hiding impossible.

  They pulled up to the Nakashima home, and Shunsuke turned off the engine. He glanced into the back seat.

  “Yuki, go on inside,” he said softly. “Mama and Papa will come in later. You can take Kuro with you.”

  Yuki smiled, clutching the raccoon close as she stepped out of the car. The guards greeted her politely at the gate.

  Shunsuke slipped an arm around Miyu, drawing her closer. “I’m here, my love,” he whispered.

  Miyu nodded, her hand trembling slightly as she accepted the call and switched it to speaker.

  “Finally, you picked up!” The voice of her agency manager filled the car— sharp, irritated. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

  Miyu’s breath hitched. Her hands shook.

  “You could have anyone, but you chose him? Shun Ishihara?”

  Shunsuke tightened his hold around her, steady and silent. Miyu trembled against him. She had always hated being yelled at, anger froze her, hollowed her into silence.

  “That former host—famous only because he shows off his body. The kind of man who probably has someone different in his bed every night. And that’s who you’re risking your career for?”

  Miyu’s grip tightened around her phone, her knuckles turning white.

  “He’s not like that,” she managed, her voice trembling at first. “Ishihara… he…” She drew a shaky breath, forcing the words out. “I love him. And I won’t apologize for it.”

  Shunsuke leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. The warmth of it steadied her.

  The manager’s voice sharpened. “And that child in the photo? Who was that—his child?”

  A spark of anger cut through Miyu’s fear. “Yuki is my younger sister,” she said, her tone firm now. “I was picking her up from school.”

  “Your sister?” The scoff on the other end was almost audible. “Can your sister not walk home on her own? Or your family fetch her? Being seen with a child ruins your image. People will assume she’s your daughter.”

  Miyu’s throat tightened, but this time she didn’t waver.

  “I want you at the agency in one hour.”

  The manager’s voice sliced through the air—cold, commanding.

  Miyu’s jaw tightened. She was done being their perfect little asset.

  “No,” she said, steady and firm. “I’m at a birthday. I’m not coming.”

  A sharp exhale came from the other end, full of irritation.

  “It’s not your birthday, so it’s not important. If you refuse, we’ll consider terminating your contract.”

  Miyu drew in a slow, deep breath—but before she could respond, the line went dead.

  For a moment, the car was silent except for the faint hum of the cooling engine. Shunsuke’s arm stayed around her, his hold grounding.

  “They don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

  Miyu turned toward him, her eyes softening. She leaned in and kissed him gently.

  “Maybe not,” she said quietly. “But I used that money for my tuition and for Yuki’s future.”

  Shunsuke nodded, his gaze unwavering.

  “I know,” he whispered. “But you’re not alone anymore, Miyu.”

  Miyu looked up at him, her eyes full of quiet warmth.

  “Thank you, Shunsuke… for being here,” she whispered.

  “Of course, Miyu,” he said gently, drawing her into his arms. “We’re in this together.”

  He paused for a moment, his voice lowering to a soft murmur against her hair.

  “If they terminate your contract, I’ll cover your tuition—if you’ll let me. I know how important your independence is, and I love that about you. I’d only help until you find another way. Just so you don’t have to carry that pressure alone.”

  Miyu sniffled, her voice trembling slightly. “Thank you… but can you even manage that? I don’t want you to fall into debt because of me.”

  Shunsuke smiled faintly and shook his head.

  “It’s alright. Even if I lost my modeling income, I’d still be fine,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

  Miyu reached out, her fingertips brushing gently against Shunsuke’s cheek. He blushed at the touch, eyes softening.

  “I don’t want money from your family…” she whispered.

  “I wouldn’t use it for that,” Shunsuke replied quietly. “I promise—I’d never use their money.”

  Miyu nodded, her gaze warm and steady.

  “When we’re home again, I’ll show you my income,” he continued, his tone calm and reassuring. “Then you can decide if you’ll accept my help. And if not… that’s fine too.”

  A small smile curved her lips—gentle, finally at ease again.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said softly. “They’re waiting for us.”

  Shunsuke nodded and stepped out of the car, circling around to open the passenger door for her. Miyu smiled up at him as she took his hand and stepped out.

  He locked the car, and together they walked toward the gate. The guards bowed respectfully as they passed.

  Shunsuke’s arm rested protectively around her waist as they passed through the gate. The Nakashima home stood before them: an elegant, traditional Japanese house that seemed to breathe quiet dignity.

  From beyond the wooden engawa, they could already hear Yuki’s bright laughter mingling with another voice in the garden. The sound of gravel crunched softly beneath their steps as they followed the narrow path leading toward the back.

  They didn’t need to pass through the house to reach the garden; the gate opened directly onto it.

  Miyu suddenly stopped. Her breath caught as she listened more closely.

  That voice… she knew it. It sounded like her older sister, Yuka.

  But that couldn’t be.

  Yuka had never been officially disowned, yet their parents had cast her aside after she became pregnant with a child whose father no one knew.