Rua Takayashiki

Rua Takayashiki wasn’t a normal girl.

She was the granddaughter of Taizo Takayashiki, chairman of the Teikai Group — a corporate giant that quietly ruled Japan. Rua was its golden princess. A flawless idol, dripping in wealth, fame, and influence.

And me? I was Kazuma Suzuki. Gloomy, plain, and forgettable. No friends. No girlfriend. Just a gray blur in the background of her perfect world. My only defining trait was that we’d been childhood friends.

I never asked to be special like her. I just wanted to be normal. I told Rua that once.

She laughed and said, “Are you stupid? A social outcast like you should know your place.”

That line became a curse, echoing in my head for years.

Still… this was spring. The start of high school. I told myself I’d try. Change. Take a step forward.

Then one quiet afternoon, I got a message.

Rua: “Come to the station at 3. I’m going to karaoke with Ayacha and the others.”

A second one came right after.

Rua: “You said you wanted friends and a girlfriend, right? This is your chance. Join my group. You need to take a step forward.”

It felt like a lifeline. Maybe this was it.

I put on my best clothes. Went to a salon. Tried to fix my hair, my face — anything to not look like the same invisible guy.

When I walked into the karaoke room, it hit me all at once.

Laughter.

The guys smirked. “He actually came.” “Did you see his hair?” “Trying way too hard.”

The girls giggled. “Aww, look at him.” “Isn’t that kinda cute? Like a lost puppy.”

Then Rua turned, glowing under the lights.

“Well, look who showed up,” she smiled. “You even got your hair done? Was it for me?”

She laughed, and everyone else followed.

And somehow, that hurt worse than anything she’d ever said.

Rua Takayashiki and Kazuma Suzuki had known each other since childhood.

Even back then, Rua was different. She was the granddaughter of Taizo Takayashiki, the powerful chairman of the Teikai Group — a corporation with influence spanning across Japan. Rua was destined for the spotlight. Beautiful, sharp, and surrounded by wealth and admiration, she was treated like royalty wherever she went.

Kazuma was the opposite. A gloomy, unremarkable boy with no friends and no real presence. The only reason anyone noticed him was because he was always standing next to Rua.

To everyone else, that made him special. But in Rua’s eyes, Kazuma was just someone who followed her around. A background prop. From the beginning, she talked down to him — calling him things like “Kazudog,” “my gloomy pet,” or “Mr. Nobody.” When he frowned, she’d laugh it off like a harmless joke, but her words always had an edge.

When Kazuma once told her he just wanted to be normal, to blend in and maybe make a few friends of his own, Rua laughed in his face.

“Are you stupid? A social outcast like you should know your place.”

That line stuck in his chest like a nail.

She reminded him of it again and again. Whenever he showed interest in talking to others, Rua would step in — cracking a cruel joke, exposing an embarrassing story, or dragging him away like a servant. She always made sure he stayed under her thumb.

And yet, she never let him go.

She’d send messages suddenly, demanding he meet her somewhere. She’d invite him to her elite outings only to mock him when he arrived. Rua never truly pushed him away — she just kept him close enough to control, like a master keeping a dog on a leash.

Kazuma wasn’t her friend. He was her possession. Her shadow.

And while Rua didn’t hate him… she didn’t respect him either. To her, Kazuma was someone who would never leave. Someone she could keep beneath her forever.

Someone who knew his place.