Ogata Yuusuke

Hoshino's POV.

I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened a few days ago at the doctor's. All my life, I thought I was normal—nothing out of the ordinary. But being told I had a "genetic disorder" was a slap in the face. A mutant? Pregnant? Bloody hell.

The results from yesterday's tests had been sent to my flat, and I'd read every word. Mum, Dad, you must be so disappointed. Your son is pregnant.

Is it even possible to conceive after just one time? And was the child growing inside me really his? The man from that night? My thoughts spiralled as I tugged at my hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. This was the curse of being an introvert: overthinking things that no scientific explanation could ever truly resolve.

"Are you all right, Hoshino?" Maki's voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. She stood at the till, looking concerned.

I nodded slowly, brushing it off. "I'm fine."

"The company that wanted to collaborate with us? They've arranged a meeting for today," Maki said, handing me a proposal folder.

I took it, flipping through the pages absent-mindedly. "You go, Maki," I replied, passing it back to her.

With an exasperated sigh, she smacked me lightly on the head with the envelope. "This is your shop, Hoshino. You're the one who should go."

She placed the folder firmly on the counter before disappearing into the kitchen.

She was right, of course. This shop was my dream—a result of years of hard work and saving during school. But Maki had always been the face of the business, handling all the marketing and client interactions while I worked quietly in the background. Meeting new people wasn't my forte, especially not now, with everything on my mind.

The shrill ring of the phone jolted me from my thoughts. I quickly answered, putting on my professional voice.

"Hello, Shirayuki Cake Shop. How can I help you?"

"Before you come to our meeting, could you bring the chocolate vanilla cake with chilli powder that Ogata-san often orders?" The voice on the other end was brisk, barely pausing for breath.

I hesitated, caught off guard. "Sorry, who is this?" I asked, but before I could get an answer, the line went dead.

I stared at the receiver, piecing together the words they'd just said. Opening the envelope on the counter, my eyes fell on the bold letters at the top of the proposal: OGATA TRADING CORP.

A deep breath escaped me as reality set in. There was no getting out of this. I had to go.

Wrapping my signature cake neatly in a box, I changed into something more appropriate and headed for the door.

"Maki! I'm off!" I called out.

She popped her head out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "Good luck, Hoshino. If we land this contract, the shop could get a lot busier."

I hesitated at the door. "Are you sure you'll be all right running things on your own? Maybe we should hire a part-timer."

Maki scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Are you doubting me? Just go! You'll be late," she said, laughing as she gave me a playful shove out the door.

She waved happily as I set off, but her cheerful confidence did little to calm the nervous knot in my stomach. This meeting wasn't just about the shop—it was about me stepping out of my comfort zone, confronting my own doubts, and taking charge of the life I'd built.

*****

OGATA TRADING CORP.

The lettering gleamed prominently on the towering building before me. I craned my neck to take it all in, losing count of the floors as I tilted my head further back. With a deep breath, I straightened myself and stepped inside, making my way across the sleek main lobby to the reception desk.

"Good afternoon. How can I help you?" asked the young woman behind the counter, her tone polite and professional.

"I'm here to see..." I faltered, suddenly blanking. Quickly, I fumbled with the envelope in my hand to check the name. "Ogata Yuusuke-san. My name is Shirayuki Hoshino."

The receptionist gave me a long, scrutinising look before picking up the phone beside her. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Did I look that strange? My outfit was neat—black trousers paired with a long brown high-necked coat. My hair was tied back neatly. Surely, I didn't come across as unpresentable, did I?

"Please proceed to the twentieth floor. The President's secretary is expecting you," she said, bowing slightly.

I nodded in return and headed for the lift, pressing the button for the twentieth floor. As the lift ascended, I steadied my nerves, silently hoping everything would go smoothly.

Ting! The lift doors slid open, and I was met with a man standing just outside, waiting.

"Shirayuki-san, please follow me," he said curtly before turning and walking down the corridor.

The hallway was pristine, with no visible doors save for the one we were approaching. It opened automatically, revealing a spacious office. A large desk dominated the centre, framed by a striking floor-to-ceiling glass window that offered an impressive view of the city skyline.

"Please take a seat. Allow me to introduce myself—I'm Azuma Katsuhide, the President's secretary," he said, bowing slightly.

I returned the gesture. "Shirayuki Hoshino," I introduced myself.

"Did you bring the cake I mentioned on the phone?" Azuma asked, his gaze sharp.

Snapped out of my daydream, I fumbled with the package in my hands. As I handed over the neatly wrapped chocolate cake, I noticed the chair behind the desk slowly swivelling around. My breath caught as the occupant turned to face me.

It was him.

The man sitting there was the same customer who had frequented my shop over the past few weeks. Of course, it had to be him—no one else ever bought my chocolate vanilla cake with chilli powder so regularly. I should have realised sooner.

"Ogata Yuusuke-sama, President Director of Ogata Trading Corp," Azuma announced formally.

I quickly bowed again in greeting, still reeling from the shock.

"Shall we proceed with the contract discussion?" Azuma continued, gesturing for me to take a seat on the nearby sofa.

I sat stiffly, still processing the situation. Are you kidding me? I was discussing a business contract with his secretary while Ogata-san—the President Director—sat there quietly eating chocolate cake at his desk? I fought back the urge to roll my eyes.

Focusing on the task at hand, I opened the proposal Maki had prepared. I could feel Ogata-san's gaze on me the entire time, but I resolutely ignored it. Soon, Azuma handed me the signed contract file.

"All done," he said smoothly. "The next steps are outlined in the document. Please take your time to review them."

I nodded, holding the folder tightly in my hands. Maki was going to be thrilled—securing a contract like this was exactly what she'd dreamed of. She'd always wanted to expand the business and open a second shop. Maybe now, that dream could become a reality.

As I stood to leave, I cast one last glance at Ogata-san. A handsome businessman like him, utterly absorbed in a chocolate cake with chilli powder—my chocolate cake. The thought made me smile, even if just for a moment. Despite everything, I was glad I'd come.

...

By the time I had finished signing the contract, a sudden wave of nausea hit me. My stomach churned uncomfortably, and I felt faint.

"S-Sorry, where's the toilet?" I asked hurriedly, struggling to keep my voice steady.

Azuma pointed to a door on his left, and I bolted towards it without waiting for a reply.

Inside, I leaned over the sink, gagging, though nothing came up. I hadn't eaten breakfast, so there was little more than a bitter mucus that left my throat burning. Covering my nose, I winced at my reflection in the large mirror above the sink. My face was pale, my hair slightly dishevelled. Pathetic.

I splashed cold water on my face and patted it dry with a handkerchief from the counter. My thoughts spiralled as I stared at my reflection. How much longer can I keep this up? Maki would start noticing soon—how could she not? And what about when my belly starts to show? What am I going to do then?

I couldn't even remember the face of the man from that night. Not that it mattered. No, Hoshino. You don't need him, I told myself firmly. This was my burden to carry, my responsibility. I wouldn't drag a stranger into it.

Maybe this was my chance to create the family I'd longed for ever since my parents passed away. I pressed my hand gently against my flat stomach, a flicker of resolve forming. I will never let you down, child. You'll have me, and that will be enough.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the bathroom and returned to my seat in front of Azuma. He looked up from the documents he was organising, concern flickering in his eyes.

"Are you all right, Shirayuki-san?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you." My voice was steady now, though my mind was racing. After a brief pause, I added, "Excuse me, Azuma-san, but may I ask you for a favour?"

Azuma's expression shifted slightly, his sharp gaze focused on me. "What kind of favour?" he asked, his tone polite but cautious.

"Could you give this contract to Maki Ema on my behalf?" I said, holding his gaze as I forced the words out.

Azuma's eyebrows raised slightly. "Isn't the cake shop yours?"

I nodded, feeling the weight of the lie I was about to tell. "It is. But... I've decided to pursue further training as a patissier in Paris. Maki Ema is my work partner, and she'll be handling everything while I'm gone. You can contact her directly for anything related to the shop."

Azuma studied me for a moment, his intense stare making my heart race. Was he catching on? Could he tell I was lying? I forced myself to remain calm, keeping my expression neutral.

Finally, he nodded. "Understood. I hope this marks the beginning of a successful partnership with Shirayuki Cake Shop." He stood and extended his hand towards me.

I stood as well, shaking his hand firmly. "Thank you. I wish the same for our collaboration."

Pulling on my long jacket, I nodded in farewell and left the office. The ride down in the lift was quiet, though my thoughts were anything but.

I knew Maki would be furious when she found out. She'd poured her heart into this shop, just as much as I had. But I couldn't risk staying and letting the truth come out. She deserved the success that this contract would bring, and I trusted her to make the shop even better in my absence.

This wasn't an easy choice, but it was the right one. My priorities had shifted. I had a child to think about now—a child who would depend on me.

For the first time in years, I felt a flicker of gratitude for the strange disorder that had made this possible. Despite everything, I'd been given a chance to build a family again, and I wouldn't waste it.

I returned to Izu, my hometown. Leaving behind the cake shop I had worked so hard to build over the past two years wasn't easy, but I knew it was necessary. I'd entrusted everything to Maki, my best friend, who had always been my rock. Before leaving, I sent her a text message explaining that I needed to give birth in peace and that she should take care of the shop in my absence. Predictably, Maki protested immediately, her calls lighting up my phone within minutes.

I didn't answer. I couldn't. Instead, I reached out to Matsuyama—Maki's fiancé—asking him to help her with the shop. Matsuyama was reliable, and I knew he'd support Maki during this time. I didn't tell either of them where I was going, only that I'd visit them after five years. It felt cruel, but it was the only way to protect my secret.

The flight to Izu was short, but the entire journey was a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. As the plane descended, the breathtaking view of the island came into focus—lush greenery, the sparkling ocean, and the rugged coastline that I'd missed more than I realised. It was a world away from Tokyo's ceaseless rush, and it filled me with a bittersweet nostalgia.

This decision, as difficult as it was, felt like the best one I'd made in years. My savings weren't much—barely enough to get by—but I'd been careful over the past two years. It would cover rent for a modest room in Izu until I could find a job to support myself and the baby.

Once I stepped off the plane, the warm, salty breeze hit me immediately, carrying with it a sense of familiarity. I clutched my bag tightly and took a deep breath. The idea of starting over was daunting, but the quiet simplicity of the island was comforting. Here, I'd build a life for my child—a new family to replace the one I'd lost so many years ago.

As I made my way to the small inn I'd booked in advance, I let the sound of the waves crashing against the shore settle my nerves. I couldn't afford to dwell on the past or worry about the uncertainties of the future. All I could do was take one step at a time and trust that I was making the right choices.

Everything would be all right. It had to be.

********

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