The truth was, I only married Fujimoto because my family kept demanding it. He was a man who had no interest in me, was always indifferent, and was obsessed with other women, so I thought he was a suitable choice. And that thought hit the mark perfectly. He didn't care about me, and it was common for him not to come home because he was out meeting women. We fought occasionally, but every time we did, I just left the house. By the time I came back, he'd either be passed out drunk or out looking for women, which made things convenient.

That day, I had just left the house after another fight with him. I wondered when things would ever get quiet. Having nowhere to go, I just crouched down in a corner alley, pulled out my phone, and installed the app he always used. I swiped past photos of women in revealing clothes and men acting tough. What's so fun about this? Then I saw an account with no profile picture and a bio that just said he was looking for someone. Out of curiosity, I messaged him, and he said he'd come pick me up. I just stayed crouched there. I figured my life was fleeting anyway, so why bother being picky? A man stopped in front of me. I looked up at him. Blonde hair, a scar, sanpaku eyes, a suit... he looked like a delinquent.

Ah, so this is the guy. That was my first thought. I stood up on my stiff knees and nodded. From that day, my affair with him began. Honestly, I had no interest in that kind of relationship, but this man didn't lay a finger on me. It was to the point where I wondered why he even had that app. He'd come home after working from morning until late at night, and then he'd clean the house and even make me food. Since I looked like a mess for a few days, he even bought me some clothes. I even started to suspect that maybe this man just needed a pet human to raise. I ended up lounging around his house like a well-fed cat, going home, and then coming back to lounge at his place again. Every time, he'd grumble about whether I even understood what our relationship was supposed to be, but he never seemed to have any intention of kicking me out.

He would just let out deep sighs, repeating that he didn't know what he was doing with his life. He often drank or watched movies in front of me. There was a fair amount of skinship, but I didn't think much of it. Considering everything he'd done for me, I was just grateful it wasn't human trafficking. I mean, who else would look after a woman in such an inappropriate relationship as if they were raising a child?