“The Golden Cage”

The penthouse was silent. Too silent.

Hayato hated silence.

He sprawled out on the sleek leather couch in the living room, one arm lazily draped over his face, the other loosely holding his phone. The massive floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of Seon's skyline, the city glowing with life beneath him. But inside these walls? Just emptiness.

His home was nothing short of a luxury suite—white marble floors, designer furniture, art pieces that were probably worth more than an entire apartment in the city. Yet, it didn't feel like his.

The distant sound of heels clicking against the polished floor made him sigh. Here we go.

"Hayato" his mother's voice rang out, smooth and controlled as always. "You're still here?"

He lifted his arm just enough to glance at her. Takane Mori—one of Japan's most famous models, an international icon. And like always, she was immaculate. Perfect.

Her silver dress hugged her figure like it was custom-made (because it probably was), and her long dark hair cascaded down her back in perfect waves. The faint scent of Chanel clung to her skin.

"Where else would I be?" Hayato muttered, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

His mother sighed, adjusting one of her diamond earrings in the mirror. "Out, maybe? With your friends? Or at least doing something productive?"

Hayato scoffed. Productive? What a joke. The only thing he was expected to do was exist. Look good. Maintain the image. Be the perfect son of Takane Mori and the heir to whatever empire his father was building overseas.

"Not in the mood."

Takane's sharp eyes flicked toward him through the mirror. "Is something wrong?"

He wanted to laugh. Wrong? There was always something wrong, but no one here ever noticed.

Instead, he sat up, stretching his arms behind his head. "Not really. Just bored."

Another sigh. Disappointed.

"Hayato, you have everything a person could ask for" she said, turning to him with a knowing smile. "There's no reason to be bored."

Right. He had everything. A big house, money he never needed to think about, girl who threw themselves at him, friends who followed wherever he led.

And yet, none of it mattered.

Takane checked her watch, already losing interest in the conversation. "I'll be flying to Milan tomorrow for a shoot. I'll be gone for about a week."

"Figures."

She ignored his tone. "Try not to cause trouble while I'm gone, alright?"

With that, she grabbed her purse, already halfway out the door before Hayato could even process the interaction was over.

"Dinner's ready if you want it." She lingered for half a second—just long enough for him to wonder if she actually cared—then left without another word.

A second later, she was gone.

Dinner. Right. Like he was in the mood to sit alone in a massive dining room.

He let his head fall back against the couch, his thoughts drifting somewhere else.

Somewhere golden.

Somewhere bright.

Lily.

The first time he saw her, really saw her, she was smiling.

Not at him, of course.

At Koji.

That damn smile. Like she had never been hurt. Like she had never had a reason to guard herself.

That pissed him off.

She wasn't like the girls who followed him around, desperate for his attention. She wasn't impressed by his name, his money, his looks. Hell, she barely seemed to acknowledge his existence unless he was actively bothering her.

It made no sense.

And yet, somehow, she had completely invaded his head.

Hayato closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. This wasn't normal. He wasn't normal lately.

Why her?

Of all the girls at Shinsei High, of all the pretty faces he had played around with, why the hell was Lily Aikawa the one who wouldn't leave his mind?

He could still hear her voice—sharp, but soft at the edges.

"Leave him alone."

"I'd rather be Koji's girlfriend than stand next to someone like you."

His jaw clenched.

She didn't belong in his world. She shouldn't even be on his radar.

But no matter how much he tried to shake her off…

She was still there.

Still shining in his thoughts.

Hayato ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as he leaned back against the couch.

Why her?

He had spent years surrounded by girls who threw themselves at him, who clung to his every word, who wanted to be seen by him. And yet, here he was, stewing over some foreign girl who didn't even look at him properly unless it was to glare.

Maybe it was because she was new. A fresh presence in the stagnant routine of Shinsei High. Someone untouched by the unspoken rules of their world. Maybe it was because she didn't flinch in front of Rika.

Rika—who still clung to the delusion that she was the most beautiful girl in the room, who batted her lashes and pouted her lips as if that alone could bend the world to her will. Tch. If only she knew how laughable that was when Lily Aikawa existed.

Maybe it was those big green eyes, too bright, too damn expressive. They caught light in a way he hadn't seen before.

Or maybe… maybe it was the fact that he wanted to be seen by her.

Acknowledged, even.

And that thought made his jaw clench.

It wasn't as if he was invisible. He had everything—a pretty-boy face, confidence, the right voice, the perfect balance between charm and arrogance.

So why the hell wasn't she looking at him?

Why was she looking at someone else?

More specifically—why was she looking at someone else with fear?

Hayato sat up, elbows on his knees as he stared at his phone.

That damn text.

He had sent that message to play with her. A game. A little push to see how she'd react. But the moment she had answered, it was him who was caught off guard.

Because she thought he was someone else.

Tch.

Who the hell was this guy?

Who was she picturing when she sent those paranoid texts?

And why—why the hell—did it bother him so much?

Of course, it was just a game.

Hayato exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he sat back against the couch, phone still in his grip. Nothing serious. Nothing real. Just another girl to mess with, another reaction to pull from someone too easy to rattle.

Like he could actually care about her.

That stunning, stupid girl who had no idea how out of place she was here. That foreign idiot who smiled too easily, who was too friendly, too chatty—especially with Piggy Porky.

His grip on the phone tightened.

That's what pissed him off the most.

She, with her bright green eyes and ridiculous American attitude, had no problem attaching herself to that loser. No problem defending him. Talking to him. Smiling at him.

Like he deserved it.

And yet, when it came to Hayato, she barely even looked at him. Only scowled, only turned away, only treated him like some annoyance.

Tch.

The irritation curled in his chest, sharp and persistent, as he let his head tip back against the couch. He had never been ignored before. Never had to chase anyone for their attention.

But with her?

He hated that he wanted to be noticed.

Even more than that—he hated that she had noticed someone else first.

The irritation burrowed deep in Hayato's chest, winding around his ribs like something venomous. A slow, burning rage—too quiet to be anger, too persistent to be ignored. It gnawed at the back of his mind, sinking in deeper with every breath.

No.

This wasn't how things worked.

Not in his world.

Not with him.

Hayato Mori didn't get ignored. He didn't get brushed aside like some irrelevant background character. And yet, that's exactly what Lily Aikawa was doing.

That girl—the dumb, stubborn, foreign girl—had walked into Shinsei High like a reckless storm, knocking things over without realizing it. And somehow, somehow, she had decided that he was the one person she could afford to ignore.

It made no sense.

She was supposed to hate him. That was fine. She was supposed to glare, to roll her eyes, to tell him to go to hell. That was fine.

What wasn't fine was the way she treated him like an afterthought. Like he wasn't worth a reaction. Like someone else occupied her thoughts more than him.

That wasn't going to last.

If she wouldn't see him willingly, he'd make her.

A slow smirk curled at the corner of his lips, sharp and humorless.

Monday.

That was the day it would start.

She thought he was somebody else? Some random guy lurking outside her door?

Tch.

Then he'd become the thing she feared.

The Plan

Step One: Find out who the hell she was scared of.

Because that wasn't sitting right with him.

Why was she so convinced that he was the one following her? That he had been outside her door? That he had chased her in the dark? It wasn't just an assumption—it was certainty.

Which meant someone had been there. Someone who wasn't him. Someone who had her running, heart pounding, breath short. And that? That pissed him off more than anything.

She had no problem ignoring him, but she noticed that guy. She ran from that guy.

Which meant he was in her head.

And Hayato couldn't have that.

So first, he'd figure out who the hell had been standing in front of her house that night. He'd ask around, dig into rumors, make people talk.

If there was someone else lurking around her, he'd find them.

And when he did?

He'd make sure they understood that there was only one person allowed to shake Lily Aikawa.

Him.

Step Two: Turn up the heat.

She already found him irritating?

Good.

Now, she'd find it impossible to ignore him.

She thought she could just live her happy little school life with that dumb smile, surrounded by the same people, having the same routine?

He'd ruin that.

He'd be everywhere.

She'd see him in the hallways. Blocking her path. Taking her things. Tipping her bag over just to watch her scramble to pick everything up. She'd hear him in the classroom, in the courtyard, in the damn cafeteria—his voice a constant presence just to remind her that he wasn't going anywhere.

She thought she had space?

He'd take it.

He'd lean close, lower his voice just enough so that his words felt personal. He'd invade the parts of her day where she thought she could breathe. Every time she looked up, he'd be there. Watching. Smirking. Amused.

Waiting for her reaction.

And that wasn't even the best part.

Step Three: Break her safe zone.

Because right now? She thought she had control.

That little group of hers—Koji, that idiot. Maybe a couple of other nobodies—gave her the illusion that she was untouchable. That she could laugh, goof around, be comfortable.

Tch.

That wasn't going to last.

It was only a matter of time before Koji fell apart completely. Hayato could see it already—how the guy's hands shook when he thought no one was looking, how his shoulders hunched, how weak he was becoming under pressure.

All it would take was one final push.

One whisper in the right ear. One well-placed comment in front of the right crowd. One moment where Koji choked in public, and suddenly, the whole school would see it too.

Lily would lose him.

And when that happened?

She'd be alone.

And Hayato would be there. Waiting.

Because she could glare all she wanted, she could fight back, snap at him, try to stand her ground—

But in the end, she'd have nowhere else to run.

She'd have to face him.

She'd have to choose him.

Even if it was through hate. Even if it was through anger, through desperation.

Because once he was the only one left?

Then, and only then, would she finally understand.

Hayato exhaled, tilting his head back against the couch.

Monday.

Everything would start Monday.

And by the time the week was over?

Lily Aikawa wouldn't be able to look anywhere without seeing him.

Hayato stretched his arms behind his head, a satisfied smirk still lingering on his lips. The plan was set. Simple, effective, perfect.

His Princess had no idea what was coming.

He imagined it already—her flustered expression, the way her brows would furrow in that annoyingly cute way when she got irritated. The little huffs of frustration she made when she was this close to snapping.

Oh, yeah. This was going to be fun.

Monday couldn't come fast enough.

Just as he let out a slow exhale, basking in the sheer genius of his plan, a loud growl ripped through the silence.

His stomach.

Hayato blinked.

The sound was obnoxiously loud, echoing in the vast, empty penthouse like some kind of sick joke. He scowled down at himself as if his own body had betrayed him.

Seriously? Now?

Here he was, strategizing like a damn mastermind—piecing together the perfect way to completely consume Lily Aikawa's every waking thought—and his biggest concern at the moment was…

Hunger?

Tch. Pathetic.

Another growl.

Hayato groaned, shoving himself off the couch and running a hand through his hair in irritation. Fine. Whatever. His body clearly didn't understand the gravity of the life-altering psychological warfare he was planning.

He stalked toward the kitchen, yanking open the fridge door with far more aggression than necessary. His eyes scanned the contents—neatly arranged, perfectly curated by whatever ghost of a housekeeper kept this place in order.

Imported cheeses.

Cold-pressed juice.

Some ridiculously overpriced meal prep bullshit.

Great. So nothing actually edible.

He slammed the fridge shut, turning to the cabinets instead.

Rice? Too much effort.

Miso soup packets? Too much effort.

Instant ramen? Bingo.

Hayato grabbed the cup, ripped off the lid, and filled it with hot water, watching the noodles slowly absorb the heat. His fingers tapped impatiently against the counter.

It was almost laughable. Ten minutes ago, he had been on the verge of villainy. Now?

He was staring down a cup of goddamn noodles like it was the most important thing in the world.

The absurdity of it all finally hit him, and a dry chuckle slipped past his lips.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He was Hayato Mori.

Shinsei High's golden boy. The one who made other people scramble to impress him.

And here he was. Fuming over some dumb foreign girl. Plotting ways to make her miserable just because she wasn't giving him the attention he—

Hayato froze.

…

No.

No, no, no.

That wasn't it.

That wasn't why he was doing this.

He was messing with her because she was annoying. Because she had no place in his world. Because she needed to learn her position.

It wasn't because—

The shrill beep of the microwave snapped him out of his thoughts.

Hayato shook himself, grabbed the ramen, and stalked back to the couch, plopping down like he hadn't just spent the last twenty minutes orchestrating the most unhinged plan of his life.

He took a bite.

Scalding.

He nearly burned his tongue off.

He cursed under his breath, glaring at the offensive cup in his hands as if this was somehow Lily Aikawa's fault.

Tch. Monday couldn't come fast enough.