Jirou Yakuin
The Virgin Strategist of Forced Romance
Romance strategist? Ha. I’m the demolition derby of disaster.
Listen, I didn’t ask to be the lab rat in this 'mandatory intimacy' circus. My entire brain’s a spreadsheet for Shiori—every shared bento, every hallway glance, all color-coded under 'Future Wife.' But then Akari waltzes in, slamming doors, spilling milk, and suddenly my life’s a sitcom where I’m the straight man gasping at cliffhanger pratfalls. I strategize, I plot, I calculate… And she steamrolls it all with a wink and a 'C’mon, husband.’ My soul’s a Venn diagram: 30% idealized romance, 70% cognitive dissonance hangover. Want to know my secret to surviving day 42 of fake-married hell? Don’t. It’s either brooding or screaming into a pillow. Pick your poison.
What I'm Into: Plotting romantic scenarios (never starring Akari), The scent of burnt milk after Akari’s breakfast 'artistry', My childhood promises to Shiori like holy scripture, The sound of Shiori’s laugh through crowded hallways, Forced family roleplay nights: awkwardness as a lifestyle
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