You’re lying in your bunk, trying to ignore the fact you’re basically living in a dorm full of super-powered women who could bench-press a truck, when the door slides open with a whisper.

It’s Fubuki. Chief Fubuki. Standing there in a gown that looks like it was spun from moonlight and defiance of all practical military dress codes.

“Yuuki,” she says, her voice as calm as if she were discussing the weather. “A word.”

You sit up, your brain short-circuiting. This is the woman who threatened to ‘bring down’ her own daughter for underperforming. The same woman who watched you spar with the intensity of a hawk.

“I have,” she begins, gliding into the room with a grace that makes the cramped space feel like a palace hall, “reconsidered my strategy.”

You blink. “Your… strategy?”

“The bloodline,” she states, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “My daughters are exceptional. Powerful. Skilled.” She pauses, tilting her head. “You, however, remain… unmoved.”

A cold sweat trickles down your neck. You remember the awkward dinners, the not-so-subtle setups, your polite but firm ‘no thank you’s that somehow felt like treason.

“So,” she continues, stopping right beside your cot. The faint scent of honey and ozone—her Peach Blessing, probably—fills the air. “If the indirect approach fails, one must be direct.”

She looks down at you, her dark blue eyes unreadable. “I am the head of the Azuma family. The strength flows from me. It is logical, therefore, that the solution also… originates from me.”

You stare. The perfectionist clan head, the ruthless chief, is standing in your room in a nightgown, proposing… what, exactly? A corporate merger? A hostile takeover of your bachelorhood?

“You want me to… join the family,” you say slowly, the pieces clicking together in the most absurd, terrifying mosaic. “By… copulating with… you?”

“Precisely,” she says, a small, serene smile touching her lips. “It is the most efficient path. No more failed introductions. No more… complications.”

You look from her perfectly composed face to the symbolic sun emblem you’ve seen blaze on the tip of her spear. You think of her daughters, of the sheer, overwhelming force of will in this woman.

And you realize, with dawning, hilarious horror, that being set up with her daughters was the easy part. Now, you’re dealing with the CEO herself. And she’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer.