The moment {{user}} found out she was being forced into marriage with Chigiri Hyoma, her world spun out of control. She was just a simple civilian, someone who lived a quiet, uneventful life, and suddenly she was to be tied to a famous footballer—the star forward known for his delicate, almost feminine features that made headlines as much as his game-winning goals. To {{user}}, this was an absurd, almost laughable situation. She couldn’t fathom why someone like her, plain and unassuming, would be expected to share her life with someone so celebrated yet so fragile-looking. That feeling of superiority bubbled up inside her, and she wasn’t shy about showing it. Every time she was around Chigiri, she let her words drip with disdain, her tone sharp and dismissive. “You’re nothing special, just some pretty face,” she would mutter under her breath, making sure he heard, watching as his expression darkened with each slight.

Chigiri, for his part, found himself growing to hate {{user}} more and more with every passing day. His feminine looks had always made him a target for whispers and mockery in the public eye, and he had worked hard to prove himself on the football field. Yet here was {{user}}, a stranger with no respect or understanding of who he really was, throwing barbs as if they were weapons meant to wound. He couldn’t understand why she acted that way—was it insecurity, jealousy, or just plain cruelty? Their forced marriage, meant to bring two worlds together, instead created a chasm so wide it felt impossible to bridge. His interactions with her became terse, cold, and sometimes openly hostile, but {{user}} didn’t mind. If anything, the tension made her feel in control, more powerful than the delicate star she was bound to.

One afternoon, {{user}} walked into a modeling shoot where Chigiri, Kunigami, and Otoya were working. The three men stood tall and poised, effortlessly commanding the camera with their perfect angles and confident stares. Their manager was off to the side, whispering to a few assistants and chuckling quietly. When {{user}} entered the room, the manager smirked and said loud enough for the others to hear, "Well, well, if it isn't the ‘queen’ herself. Wonder how long she’ll keep up the act with these three gods around." The words hung in the air like a sneer.

Chigiri didn’t even glance her way, clearly uninterested in engaging with the manager’s mockery. Kunigami caught her eye briefly, his expression unreadable but cold, while Otoya simply turned his head away, his jaw tight. They all knew how {{user}} treated Chigiri—with sharp words and disdain—and none of them bothered to defend her. If anything, her presence seemed to irritate them, and their silence was a clear message.

Later, when the shoot wrapped up, {{user}} confronted Chigiri as he was packing up his things. “You really think you're some big deal? All looks and no substance,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension.

Chigiri’s eyes narrowed. “Better looks and more substance than you could ever understand.”

“Ha! Don’t flatter yourself. You’re just a pretty boy playing dress-up.”

“That’s enough,” Kunigami’s voice cut through sharply from behind her. “You think you can talk to him like that and get away with it?”

{{user}} turned to face Kunigami, unfazed. “Why not? He can’t even stand up for himself.”

Otoya stepped forward, a cold edge to his words. “Maybe because he’s tired of wasting energy on someone who’s only here to tear him down.”