Am I The Only Male Tenant Here?

I think it was because of Matsumoto-san's crazy enthusiasm and that dinner so good it could seduce gods.

Because somehow, despite just arriving in Tokyo, I didn't feel out of place at all.

In fact, I slept like a log. Like, the moment-my-head-hit-the-pillow-I-was-dead kind of sleep. I even dreamed of swimming in a giant bowl of curry. Not sure what that says about my mental state, but it was damn peaceful.

Morning came too fast.

Rays of sunlight filtered into the room like a spotlight from heaven, casting golden patterns on the wooden floor. It had that clean, soft vibe that made the whole place feel like a countryside inn. Add in the distant chirping of birds outside and the cool spring breeze brushing against my cheek, and you'd think I'd woken up in a damn slice-of-life anime.

I rolled out of bed, washed up, and wandered into the corridor. I stretched my arms above my head with a yawn so loud it could register on the Richter scale, then leaned on the railing and took in that fresh Tokyo air.

And then I saw her.

Down in the yard, Tomoko Matsumoto—my impossibly elegant landlady—was hanging up laundry. Her long black hair was tied into a simple pigtail, draped right between her chest like a ribbon wrapping a gift you were never allowed to open. Her delicate face looked calm, almost regal, like she belonged in a Taisho-era romance.

And then there was the outfit.

A loose, white tank top that just barely—just barely—covered her boobs, paired with those tight beige shorts that revealed smooth thighs and the slightest curve of hip. It was the kind of sight that made my teenage soul question all my life choices and then thank the universe for this one.

"Good morning, Sosuke-kun," she said, smiling softly.

"Ah, g-good morning, Tomoko-san." My voice cracked. Great start.

She handed me a few pieces of laundry without a word. I took the hint and helped hang them, silently working alongside her under the warm morning sun. We didn't talk much, but there was this rhythm between us—like we'd been living together for years instead of less than a day.

A quiet harmony. Warmth without words.

Is this what marriage feels like...?

She glanced at me, lips curling into a smile. "Sosuke-kun is such a thoughtful boy. We've barely met and I already feel like I can rely on you."

I rubbed the back of my neck, heart doing stupid cartwheels. "Haha... I just don't like watching others work alone."

Tomoko chuckled and waved me over. "That's the last of it. Come in for breakfast. It's ready."

Inside, breakfast was already set—rice, grilled fish, miso soup, and a perfectly fried egg that glistened like it had its own filter on.

I sat across from her at the table, still unsure how I'd lucked into this domestically blissful arrangement.

"Itadakimasu," I said, grabbing my chopsticks.

One bite of that fish and I knew—Tomoko Matsumoto was a goddamn goddess in the kitchen.

Crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside, just the right touch of sweetness to the rice. Even the soup tasted like it had been blessed by a monk or something.

"Sooo good…" I mumbled between bites, giving her a thumbs-up. "Tomoko-san, you're amazing."

"Oh stop," she said with a slight blush. "You're going to spoil me."

She sipped her miso soup, pushing her long hair behind one ear. The steam kissed her cheeks, giving her this rosy glow. She fidgeted with her chopsticks absentmindedly, totally unaware she was driving a boy in his prime into silent chaos.

This woman is lethal…

"Oh, right," she added casually. "I messaged Mrs. Kobayakawa last night. If you head to the convenience store today, you can ask her about that part-time job."

"Oh! Thank you so much, Tomoko-san." Seriously. She thought of everything.

That was the charm of a mature woman. Always one step ahead, always composed, always knowing what you needed before you did.

After we finished, I helped her clear the table. The way her back arched as she leaned forward over the sink, her figure swaying slightly with each motion...

I shook my head violently.

Nope. Don't go there, brain. We are NOT going there.

By 8 AM, I was out the door and headed to the store, heart still thumping from the morning's bombardment of unintentional ecchi.

The streets were peaceful, a mix of elderly locals and housewives out shopping for fresh vegetables. Using the directions Tomoko-san gave me, I found the corner convenience store easily.

Ding-dong.

"Welcome~!" came a bright voice the second I stepped inside.

Standing behind the counter was a cute cashier with pigtails and a smile so warm it could melt ice cream in January. Her eyes sparkled the moment she saw me.

"Uh, is Ms. Kobayakawa in?"

"You mean the manager? She should be in the back office right now," she replied, pointing toward a hallway.

"Thanks."

As I walked past, I felt her eyes trailing me. She actually gulped. Wait, did she just swallow audibly?

…Man, Tokyo girls really do appreciate a good tan and a clean haircut, huh?

I reached the office door and knocked.

Knock knock knock.

"Come in," came a soft but commanding voice.

I stepped inside—and froze.

Sitting behind the desk was Kana Kobayakawa.

Sharp black eyes, long hair as dark as midnight, and lips that looked like they'd never curled into a full smile. She was wearing a convenience store uniform, but somehow still looked like she should've been running a high-end law firm… or starring in a noir thriller.

"I'm Ginjo Sosuke," I began, trying not to let her intense gaze melt me. "Tomoko-san said I could ask about part-time work?"

"I'm the manager, Kobayakawa Kana," she replied curtly. "Please, take a seat."

Definitely cool. Maybe even... icy?

Still, she was gorgeous. Her chest—generous. Her waist—snatched. Her legs—long and lightly toned. She had the kind of figure that would usually be hidden in office suits, but that convenience store outfit was doing none of the heavy lifting. The shirt strained slightly over her chest. My eyes betrayed me before I could stop them.

Then—

[Beauty Favorability System Activated]

[Target detected: Kana Kobayakawa]

[Stamina: 65] [Charm: 92]

[Current Favorability: 60]

Whoa, wait! System?! We doing this now!?

Only 60 though? Makes sense. She's clearly not the warm-and-fuzzy type. But I wasn't here for romance—just a job.

Kobayakawa asked a few questions, gave me a form, and after a quick fill-in, she nodded.

"You can start on Monday after school."

"Actually…" I raised my hand slightly. "Since it's my day off, I'd like to get familiar with the place today. If that's okay?"

She studied me for a beat, then stood up. "Follow me."

And hoo boy, when she walked—

That waist.

Those hips.

That soft curve of thigh barely contained by the skirt of her uniform.

My heart was under siege. I tried not to stare, but I was trailing behind her like a moth to a supermodel-shaped flame.

"This is the break room. Try this uniform for now," she said, handing me a folded shirt.

I nodded, pulling off my black tank top without thinking. My bare chest caught the light just right, accentuating every muscle I'd trained for during years of sports and sun.

And then I felt it.

That burn. That heat. That unmistakable sensation of being watched.

I turned.

Kana Kobayakawa's eyes darted away, just a second too slow.

Our gazes met.

Her breath hitched. Her face turned ever so slightly pink.

"I-I'll wait out front," she said quickly, voice cracking just a tiny bit before she practically ran out of the room.

I stared after her, shirt still in hand.

Was she… flustered?

Holy hell. Cold, mysterious Kobayakawa Kana just peeked at me.

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