Bang bang bang…

A sound like a construction site echoed inside my head.

A brutal hangover.

“…Ugh.”

I let out a groan and forced my heavy eyelids open.

What came into view was an unfamiliar ceiling—no, the guest room ceiling of Hibiki’s tower apartment.

I remember drinking myself half to death with the staff and cast at the wrap party after crank-up last night.

But how I ended up in bed at the very end, I cannot remember.

As I tried to sit up, I noticed something was wrong.

My right arm felt heavy.

Someone was using it as a pillow.

“…Huh?”

I nervously lifted the blanket.

There she was.

Karen, wearing nothing but my shirt, sleeping defenselessly with a peaceful expression.

I desperately restrained myself from jumping up.

My thoughts went completely blank.

The circumstantial evidence was pitch-black.

Alcohol.

A closed room.

A bed.

Disheveled clothing.

‘…Did I screw up?’

Cold sweat ran down my back.

I do not subscribe to some flippant morality where mistakes made while drinking do not count.

Laying hands on an unmarried woman—worse, a top actress—would be the ultimate disgrace for a man.

“Mmm…”

Karen stirred and slowly opened her eyes.

Her long eyelashes trembled and her hazy gaze fixed on me.

“Oh? Good morning, Jō.”

“…G-good morning.”

“Hehe, my head hurts… Looks like we really went all out.”

Karen looked at her appearance and then at me beside her and instead of being shocked, she gave me a bewitching smile.

She pulled the sheet closer and leisurely traced a finger across my chest.

“Sorry about that. I’m the type who loses my memory when I get drunk… but I’m sure I was the one who dragged you in by force.”

“…What?”

“Well, all boys are herbivores these days. In situations like this, it’s proper manners for the woman to take the lead and ‘enjoy the meal,’ right?”

Karen winked mischievously.

“Relax. I’ll take responsibility for what I ate. Until you succeed as an actor… no, until you can live comfortably for the rest of your life, I’ll be your patron. You won’t have to worry about money.”

I see.

In this world, it’s just how it is.

Women eat men and women support men.

That is ‘common sense.’

But… The ‘man’ inside me would not accept that.

Grab.

I seized Karen’s wrist.

“…Say that in your sleep.”

“Eh?”

“Don’t get it twisted. Given the situation, the one who crossed the line was me.”

I straightened my posture on the bed and sat formally.

I crushed the hangover headache through sheer willpower and looked Karen straight in the eyes.

“Karen, I’m old-fashioned. I have no intention of being kept and no intention of being someone’s pet.”

“J-Jō? What are you saying? You’re a boy. You’re the one who’s supposed to be protected—”

“Listen.”

I cut her off in a low voice.

“During the shoot, I watched your guts the whole time. Your actor’s soul that kept clinging on even when you were falling apart and the trust you showed me—every bit of it.”

Images from the filming days crossed my mind.

Her enduring my unreasonable direction, fighting while covered in mud.

Somewhere along the way, I may have been drawn to this headstrong young lady.

“Whether last night was an accident or not doesn’t matter… I’ll take responsibility.”

I declared it.

“I’ll shoulder your life. I don’t need money or status. A man protects his woman.”

It was an arrogant, anachronistic confession that should not exist in this world.

And yet.

Karen’s eyes wavered.

She may have been used to being told ‘I’ll protect you,’ but she had likely never been told ‘I will protect’ or ‘I will shoulder you.’

The overwhelming possessiveness and capacity of the ‘male’ I radiated violently shook her instincts.

“…So cocky.”

Karen’s cheeks flushed red in an instant.

She glared at me with moist eyes.

“Do you know who I am? I’m Tennoji Karen. Carrying me… won’t be easy, you know?”

“Think of it as strength training. Bring it on.”

When I grinned, Karen muttered that I was hopeless and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“…Fine. I’ll accept that ‘responsibility.’”

A sweet scent brushed my nose.

We naturally leaned in closer, our lips meeting.

A soft, deep kiss without the taste of blood like during filming.

It was a mark of contract, a ritual to confirm our feelings.

When we parted after the long kiss, Karen gazed at me with a melted expression.

Then she whispered into my ear in a devilishly sweet voice.

“Hey, Jō.”

“…Yeah?”

“We don’t really remember what happened yesterday, do we?”

“…Yeah. Pretty pathetic.”

As I answered, Karen’s hand reached for the buttons of my shirt—the one she was wearing.

“Then… why don’t we make it a ‘memory’ now?”

“…Hey.”

“If we don’t remember, we can’t take responsibility properly, right? …So carve it into your body instead.”

She smiled seductively and dragged me beneath the sheets.

It seems that if I am going to ‘protect’ her, I first have to win the battle on this bed.

I steeled myself and held my beloved lover tightly in my arms.