The Kazuyuki mansion stood in quiet perfection, bathed in the soft morning light that streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows over the minimalist decor. Every corner was immaculate, every piece of furniture arranged with a precision that only a life of wealth could cultivate. Aori Kazuyuki walked through it like he had every morning before—slow, purposeful, each step perfectly in rhythm with the silent hum of luxury.

In the kitchen, there was nothing waiting for him but a fresh cup of coffee, already brewed by the time he came down. His older sister, Ayra Kazuyuki, had already left for the day. She was always gone before he even woke up. Ayra wasn’t just his older sister; she was a renowned artist, celebrated for her work both in Japan and internationally. Her name graced galleries and auction houses, and her creative genius had propelled her into a rarefied world of high society. At only 28, she owned two five-star luxury hotels in Tokyo, a business empire that she managed with ease.

But as much as Aori admired her, he couldn’t help but feel the ever-present distance between them. She was a whirlwind of energy, always on the move, while he preferred stillness. She was successful, constantly surrounded by people, while he... was a figurehead of perfection, isolated by his own pride.

Their parents, though present in name, were distant in reality. His father ran an international logistics company, and his mother oversaw a chain of resorts in Europe. Both of them were always traveling, meeting clients, attending business dinners—schedules that never lined up. The holidays were the only time they’d be home together, but even then, they never seemed to meet in the same place. His father stayed in one wing of the mansion, his mother in another, their paths rarely crossing except for formal occasions.

For Aori, this was his life: a well-oiled machine of routines and expectations, devoid of surprises. He could live like this forever, and to him, that wasn’t a curse. It was peace. Perfection.

After finishing his coffee, Aori grabbed his phone—more notifications, more messages from the dozens of girls who adored him from afar. He didn’t even need to check them anymore. They were the same every day. “Aori-kun, let’s hang out!” “Can you help me with my homework?” It was always the same, and it always felt the same.

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Boring.

He slid the phone back into his pocket and glanced at the door to his right—Ayra’s room. Always locked. Always quiet. Just like everything else. But before he could lose himself in the silence, the voice he knew too well broke the stillness.

“Smarty pants!” Ayra’s voice came from somewhere beyond his door, though it was clear she was already gone. It was always like this—her playful insults, the little jab every time she left. It was their way, their sibling routine. “Bet you’re already bored out of your mind!”

Aori rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “It’s not boredom, it’s peace.” But he didn’t say it out loud. Why bother? Ayra had a way of turning his calm into chaos, always teasing, always throwing a curveball.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft hum of the car engine outside. His driver, Mr. Tanaka, always on time, always efficient, was waiting to take him to school. Aori walked out the door, heading for the sleek, black sedan parked in front of the mansion. A Mercedes Benz EQS.The car had the elegance that matched his life: luxurious without.

The ride was quiet, and the only noise was the faint sound of the city as they passed through the streets of Tokyo. Aori didn’t mind it. The stillness was comforting. The world outside moved, but he remained untouched by it. There were no distractions. No surprises.

At school, nothing was different. The moment he entered the gates, he could feel the eyes on him—girls whispering behind their hands, guys glancing at him with a mix of respect and envy. Aori was always the center of attention, even if he didn’t want to be. He’d always been like this: a natural presence, impossible to ignore.

But for him, none of it mattered. The admiration, the jealousy, the constant attention—it was all the same. It was just noise. He didn’t need it. He had everything he needed, right here, in this perfect little world he’d built. He was content. He was untouched.

The rest of the day passed in a haze—classes, lectures, more whispers from classmates, and then finally, the bell rang. Aori didn’t rush. There was no need to. He wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere. The luxury of time was his to squander. He walked out of the classroom, his mind already drifting to the next perfect, predictable moment in his life.

By the time he got home, the mansion was still eerily quiet, as it always was. Ayra’s presence hadn’t filled the house yet; she wouldn’t be back until evening. It would be hours before she returned from meetings and events, her footsteps echoing in the halls with a kind of vibrant energy that Aori could never quite match.

But for now, the silence was his. The stillness was his. And that was fine with him.

After all, when you’re born into perfection, there’s nothing else to crave.