The Billionaire Alpha’s Unwanted Mate

Chapter 9

The sun has barely peeked over the horizon when Yuuki arrives at the airport. The flight passes in a blur, her face turned towards the window as she gazes out at the clouds, her thoughts unknown.

Upon landing at Kannon-ji, she makes her way to the bus terminal, where she catches a large, modern coach heading deeper into the countryside. For three hours, she watches the landscape transform from urban sprawl to rolling hills and lush forests. As the bus winds its way through narrow mountain roads, Yuuki feels a sense of homecoming washing over her.

At last, the coach comes to a stop at a small, rural station. She disembarks and glances around, taking in the quaint surroundings. A weathered wooden sign points the way to her final destination.

With a deep breath, she boards a smaller, more rickety bus. As she settles into her seat, she can't help but observe her fellow passengers. The bus is a microcosm of rural Nihon life, each person a story unto themselves.

An elderly couple sits near the front, their wrinkled hands intertwined. The woman's silver hair is neatly pinned back, while her husband's weather-beaten face speaks of years spent working the land. They converse in low, affectionate tones, their words punctuated by soft laughter.

Behind them, a young mother cradles a sleeping infant, gently rocking the child as the bus sways. Her eyes are tired but filled with love as she gazes down at her baby.

Near the back, a middle-aged farmer dozes, his calloused hands resting on a worn leather bag. The creases in his face tell of long days under the sun, tending to crops and livestock.

As the bus trundles along, Yuuki finds herself lulled by the gentle hum of conversation and the rhythmic sway of the vehicle. The scenery outside the window becomes increasingly rural, with terraced rice fields stretching out to meet distant mountains.

After about an hour, the bus comes to a stop in a small village. She hoists her backpack onto her shoulder and steps out into the warm afternoon sun. The village is a picturesque scene straight out of a postcard.

Narrow streets wind between traditional houses with their distinctive tile roofs. Cherry blossom trees line the roads, their delicate pink petals dancing on the gentle breeze. In the distance, she can hear the soft chiming of bells from a nearby shrine.

Elderly villagers tend to small vegetable gardens, their movements slow but purposeful. Children's laughter echoes from a nearby playground, mingling with the gentle clucking of chickens pecking at the ground.

The air is filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the earthy aroma of freshly tilled soil. It's a stark contrast to the sterile, manicured world she has left behind in the city.

Her feet carry her along a familiar path, each step bringing a flood of childhood memories. She passes by the old general store where she used to buy candies, the owner's granddaughter now manning the counter. The girl gives Yuuki a curious look but doesn't recognize her.

As she walks deeper into the village, the houses become more spread out, giving way to larger estates hidden behind high walls. Finally, she comes to a stop in front of a traditional courtyard home that seems frozen in time.

The house is a masterpiece of classical Nihon architecture. A tiled roof with upturned eaves crowns walls of dark wood and white plaster. The main entrance is flanked by stone lanterns, their moss-covered surfaces speaking of ages past.

A high wall surrounds the property, broken only by an imposing wooden gate. Above the gate, intricate carvings depict scenes from ancient legends – tales of gods, demons, and heroic deeds.

Yuuki stands before the gate, her heart pounding in her chest. This place had been her home, her sanctuary, for so many years. Now, it feels both achingly familiar and terrifyingly foreign.

Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, she approaches the door. Her hand hovers over the worn wood for a moment before she finally summons the courage to knock.

The sound echoes in the quiet afternoon, seeming to reverberate through her very bones. For a long moment, there is only silence. She holds her breath, half hoping and half dreading that someone will answer.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she hears the shuffle of footsteps approaching. The door creaks open, revealing an old man with a lined face and kind eyes.

At first, confusion clouds his features as he peers at the young woman before him. But as recognition dawns, his eyes widen in shock and disbelief.

"Ojōsama?" he gasps, his voice trembling with emotion.

Yuuki feels a rush of warmth at the familiar honorific. "Ojisan," she replies, her own voice thick with unshed tears.

The old man's eyes redden, a mixture of joy and concern etched into every line of his face. "Ojōsama... Is it really you?" he whispers, as if afraid she might disappear if he speaks too loudly.

She nods, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Guilt engulfs her as she takes in the changes in the man before her.

Hiroshi had been her master's most trusted steward for as long as she could remember. More than that, he had been a source of comfort and kindness throughout her childhood. Whenever her master's strict training became too much, it was to Hiroshi that she would run, seeking solace in his gentle words and warm hugs.

But now, the man before her seems to have aged decades in the mere four years since she'd last seen him. His once jet-black hair is now streaked with grey, and his back is slightly stooped. The worry lines around his eyes and mouth speak volumes about the anxiety he must have endured.

Suddenly, a shadow passes over his face. Yuuki's heart sinks, knowing what's coming next.

"Shishō..." she begins hesitantly. "Is he...?"

Hiroshi nods, his expression grave. "He's inside. But..." He pauses, clearly struggling with what he needs to say next. "The master... he gave strict orders that you weren't to be allowed back if you ever returned."

The words hit Yuuki like a physical blow. She staggers slightly, her head dropping in shame and sorrow. She had expected this, had known deep down that her actions would have consequences. But at the time, she had thought it was worth it. But now… hearing it spoken aloud makes it all too real.

"I understand," she whispers, fighting back tears. "I have no right to be here. I'll go."

But as she turns to leave, she feels a warm hand on her arm. Looking up, she sees Hiroshi's face set in a determined expression.

"No," he says firmly. "You've come all this way. You must be exhausted and hungry. Come inside and rest."

Yuuki shakes her head, even as her heart longs to accept his offer. "But Shishō's orders..."

Hiroshi's eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief. "He's already angry, Ojōsama. What's a little more at this point? Besides," he adds with a wink, "sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness than permission, isn't it?"

Despite herself, Yuuki feels a small smile tugging at her lips. This is the Hiroshi she remembers – kind, understanding, and always ready to bend the rules a little for her sake.

Still, she hesitates. "Are you sure? I don't want to cause trouble for you, Ojisan."

Hiroshi's face softens. "Yuuki-chan," he says gently, using her given name for the first time since she'd arrived. "You're like a daughter to me. Seeing you again... it's worth any trouble that might come."

Tears well up in Yuuki's eyes at his words and she feels even more like a piece of s**t.

Hiroshi wipes his eyes discreetly before gesturing towards the open door. "Come on in, quickly now. You must be worn out after such a long journey."

She nods, allowing Hiroshi to usher her inside. As she steps over the threshold, a wave of nostalgia washes over her. The interior of the house is exactly as she remembers it – a perfect blend of elegance and simplicity.

The entryway opens onto a beautiful inner courtyard. A small stone garden occupies the center, its carefully raked gravel forming intricate patterns around larger rocks. A twisted pine tree provides shade, its gnarled branches reaching out over a small koi pond.

Yuuki's eyes are drawn to a particular spot near the pond. There, hidden partially behind a large rock, is a small indentation in the gravel. She remembers creating that hollow as a child, a secret hideaway for the little frog figurine Hiroshi had given her on her eighth birthday.

Beyond the courtyard, she can see the covered walkway that connects the various rooms of the house. Each sliding door is a work of art, decorated with delicate paintings of flowers and birds.

To her right, a glimpse into the tea room brings back memories of long afternoons spent learning the intricacies of the tea ceremony. The low table, the carefully arranged flowers in the tokonoma alcove – everything is just as it had been.

"Where is he?" Yuuki asks softly, her eyes still roaming over the familiar surroundings.

Hiroshi's expression grows serious once more. "In the main hall," he replies, his voice low.

She nods, steeling herself for what's to come. As she follows Hiroshi along the covered walkway towards the main hall, each step feels heavier than the last. The warm wood beneath her feet, the soft rustle of her clothes, the distant song of birds in the garden – all of it fades away, overwhelmed by the pounding of her heart.