Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 108: The Omiai Challenge – Traditional vs. Modern Matchmaking

Chapter 108: The Omiai Challenge – Traditional vs. Modern Matchmaking

The crisp morning air carried a faint scent of green tea and freshly raked earth, blending with the serene ambiance of Hamarikyu Gardens. Sunlight streamed through the manicured pines, dappling the stone pathways where matchmakers and their clients gathered in quiet anticipation.

Ava stood beneath the wooden pavilion, gripping the sealed profile envelope in her hands. She had competed in high-stakes matchmaking events before, but this? This felt different.

Omiai wasn’t about romance, sparks, or wild, passionate confessions.

It was a centuries-old process—methodical, structured, and deeply rooted in logic over emotions.

And Ava?

Ava thrived on the unpredictable side of love.

She snuck a glance at Ryan, who—unlike her—looked far too at ease. Dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, he leaned casually against a wooden beam, sipping his tea like he was at a luxury brunch instead of an intense matchmaking competition.

"Are you even taking this seriously?" Ava whispered, glaring at him.

Ryan smirked, lowering his teacup. "Oh, I’m taking this very seriously."

"You don’t look like you are."

Ryan tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "Because I have complete confidence in my fiancée’s skills."

Ava stared at him, momentarily thrown off by the way he had said it.

Fiancée.

Even after weeks of being engaged, the word still sent a shiver down her spine.

Ryan leaned in, brushing his fingers lightly over the back of her hand, voice dropping just enough to make her stomach flip. "Besides, I’m having fun watching you panic."

Ava scowled and immediately pulled away. "I am not panicking."

"You’re gripping that envelope like it owes you money."

Ava forced herself to relax her fingers, only for Ryan to chuckle under his breath.

"Adorable," he murmured.

Ava was about to retaliate, but Madam Hoshino stepped forward, bringing a hush over the pavilion.

With her silver hair perfectly pinned and an immaculate purple kimono, she radiated absolute authority. Her piercing gaze swept over the assembled matchmakers, assessing them like a commander preparing for battle.

"The art of omiai is not about fleeting attraction," Madam Hoshino began. "Marriage is built on foundation—on stability, compatibility, and the unbreakable bond between two families."

Ava resisted the urge to groan internally.

Madam Hoshino continued, her voice commanding. "Today, you will each be assigned two candidates. Your role is to determine their compatibility based on values, career goals, and family expectations. Attraction is secondary to practicality. Love is built, not stumbled upon."

Ava barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

Love wasn’t built. Love was messy. It broke rules. It wasn’t a business contract—it was the feeling of knowing someone could change your world just by existing in it.

Ryan, sensing her frustration, nudged her lightly. "Try not to set anything on fire, Matchmaker."

Ava exhaled sharply as assistants handed out envelopes.

She ripped hers open.

Kenji Nakamura – 34, prestigious engineer, highly structured, seeks stability.

Rika Tanaka – 30, renowned pastry chef, independent, adventurous, dreams of expanding her business internationally.

Ava stared at the profiles.

This was a terrible match.

She looked at Kenji’s resume. He probably organized his socks by color and rotation cycle.

Then Rika’s profile—someone who probably made decisions based on gut feeling and impulse.

Ava’s eye twitched.

Ryan, reading over her shoulder, let out a low whistle. "Oof. That’s gonna be rough."

"I am doomed," Ava muttered under her breath.

Ryan grinned. "You love impossible projects."

"I love proving people wrong. There’s a difference."

Ryan chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before murmuring, "Then prove them wrong, Matchmaker."

---

Ava led her assigned couple to a quiet corner of the garden where a low wooden table had been set for tea. The atmosphere was peaceful—but the tension between Kenji and Rika was anything but.

Kenji sat rigidly straight, hands folded, while Rika leaned back, arms crossed, eyeballing him like he was a complicated soufflé she wasn’t sure would rise.

Ava clapped her hands together. "Okay! Let’s start with something easy. Kenji, what do you value most in a partner?"

Kenji adjusted his tie precisely. "Predictability. Shared long-term goals. A structured approach to life."

Rika visibly recoiled.

Ava resisted the urge to facepalm.

She turned to Rika. "And you?"

Rika sighed, drumming her fingers against the table. "I need someone who can roll with life. Who understands that passion and ambition don’t follow a rigid schedule."

Kenji blinked slowly. "That sounds inefficient."

Rika narrowed her eyes. "That sounds boring."

Ryan, who had made himself way too comfortable nearby, nearly choked on his tea trying to contain a laugh.

Ava glared at him. "Do you mind?"

Ryan grinned. "Nope."

Ava exhaled sharply, turning back to the train wreck in progress.

She tried again. "Kenji, if Rika had a stressful day, how would you cheer her up?"

Kenji thought for a moment. "I would analyze the root cause of her stress and provide solutions."

Rika looked horrified. "That’s terrible."

Ava quickly turned to Rika. "And you? If Kenji was stressed?"

Rika brightened. "I’d bake him something."

Kenji tilted his head. "Why?"

Rika gasped, clutching her chest. "Excuse me?"

"Sugar is an ineffective method of stress relief," Kenji stated, adjusting his glasses.

Rika looked seconds away from throwing a wagashi sweet at his face.

Ryan, outright laughing now, muttered, "I’d pay money to see her do it."

Ava pinched the bridge of her nose.

She had to turn this around before it spiraled into a live disaster.

Ava leaned in, switching tactics.

"Kenji," she said smoothly, "Rika loves surprises. What if, hypothetically, she wanted to do something spontaneous on a weekend?"

Kenji frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose... if it was scheduled in advance, I could prepare accordingly."

Rika gawked at him.

Ava clapped her hands. "Great! So you can be flexible. Rika, is that enough for you?"

Rika sighed dramatically. "I guess it’s a start."

Kenji nodded. "I am... willing to explore a limited amount of spontaneity."

Rika looked at him for a long moment before finally... smiling.

Ava sat back, victorious.

Ryan clapped slowly. "Ava Lee, miracle worker."

Ava smirked, sending Julian a smug glance across the pavilion.

Julian scowled.

Ava grinned. Round One: Hers.

Ryan leaned closer, murmuring against her ear. "Told you you’d win."

Ava sighed, smiling despite herself. "Yeah, yeah. Buy me lunch later."

Ryan grinned. "Deal."

Across the garden, Julian muttered something to Ethan.

And Ava?

Ava felt the thrill of victory settle in her chest.

The war had just begun.

And she was ready for Round Two.

---

Ava barely contained her smug grin as she watched Julian stew across the pavilion.

Her first omiai challenge was a success.

Kenji and Rika were now deep in conversation, actually enjoying each other’s company, and even Ryan—who had spent most of the event mocking the entire process—looked genuinely impressed.

Ava turned toward him with an arched brow. "Well?"

Ryan smirked. "Alright, I’ll admit it. That was..." He tilted his head, considering. "Not a complete disaster."

Ava scoffed. "Wow, such high praise."

Ryan chuckled, stepping closer until their bodies were nearly brushing.

"You were incredible," he murmured, his voice dropping into that low, warm tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Ava blinked, suddenly feeling too warm in the crisp Tokyo air.

She cleared her throat, trying to ignore the way Ryan’s fingers were tracing slow, lazy circles on her wrist.

"I mean," Ryan continued, smirking, "I thought you were going to snap and throw matcha at Kenji, but hey—personal growth."

Ava groaned, shoving him lightly. "You are impossible."

Ryan chuckled, catching her hand before she could pull away.

His fingers curled around hers, firm but gentle, sending a wave of warmth through her chest.

Ava inhaled sharply.

The competition buzzed on around them—matchmakers discussing strategies, clients mingling—but right then, it all faded into the background.

Ryan looked at her, his dark eyes searching hers.

She knew that look.

It was the same look he’d given her in Paris before he kissed her for the first time... nope, definitely not the first. Honestly, at this point, she had lost count of how many times he’d kissed her. But Paris had been different. Paris had been special. The same look he had when he dropped to one knee at Pont des Arts, slipping a ring onto her finger—as if proposing in the most ridiculously romantic spot in the city wasn’t already overkill.

Soft. Steady. Like she was the only thing that mattered.

Ava swallowed hard.

Then, because he was Ryan, and he couldn’t help himself, he smirked.

"So," he murmured, tugging her hand just enough to bring her closer. "What’s my reward for believing in you?"

Ava narrowed her eyes, ignoring the way her heart did a ridiculous, traitorous flip.

"Oh, you want a reward now?"

Ryan shrugged, his thumb brushing lightly over her palm. "I did make a bet with Harold that you’d win."

Ava snorted. "You really bet money on me?"

"Of course," Ryan said smoothly. "I always bet on you."

Ava blinked.

Something about the casual certainty in his voice sent warmth curling through her chest.

Ryan took advantage of her momentary distraction, leaning in to brush his lips over her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her breath hitch.

Ava’s fingers tightened in his jacket, her pulse jumping.

He pulled back slightly, grinning against her skin. "That’s almost a proper thank-you."

Ava exhaled sharply, shoving him away. "Unbelievable."

Ryan chuckled, completely unbothered.

Ava turned her attention back to the pavilion, trying to ignore the heat spreading down her spine.

But then—

"By the way," Ryan mused, his voice far too amused, "Kenji just asked Rika to make him a strawberry shortcake."

Ava whipped her head around.

Sure enough, Kenji was nodding earnestly while Rika looked half-smug, half-flustered.

Ava gasped dramatically. "Oh my god, did I actually create a real match?"

Ryan smirked. "Yep. Congratulations, Matchmaker. You’ve officially messed with tradition."

Ava grinned, feeling satisfaction bloom in her chest.

Until—

"Ava Lee."

The sharp, authoritative voice of Madam Hoshino cut through the air like a blade.

Ava straightened immediately, heart lurching.

Ryan muttered under his breath, "Oh, shit."

Madam Hoshino approached, her piercing gaze unreadable, hands clasped neatly in front of her pristine kimono.

Ava schooled her expression, trying to appear graceful and poised—despite the fact that Ryan was still smirking like a menace beside her.

Madam Hoshino regarded Ava for a long moment, then finally nodded.

"You have potential," she said simply.

Ava barely stopped herself from sagging in relief.

"Your approach was... unconventional," Madam Hoshino continued, her gaze flicking toward Kenji and Rika, who were still engaged in lively conversation, "but effective."

Ava blinked.

Wait—was that approval?

Was she actually being complimented?

Ryan leaned over, whispering in her ear. "Holy shit, did you just—"

"Shh," Ava hissed, elbowing him violently.

Madam Hoshino gave a small, knowing smile before inclining her head.

"I will be watching your next match closely," she said before turning and walking away with effortless grace.

Ava stood frozen, watching her go.

Ryan was vibrating with suppressed laughter.

"I cannot believe you just got a compliment from the Iron Empress of Omiai," he muttered.

Ava exhaled. "Neither can I."

Then, suddenly—

Mei’s voice pierced the air.

"My darling granddaughter wins again! I knew I raised a legend!"

Ava groaned loudly, pressing her fingers against her temple as Mei practically sprinted across the pavilion, arms dramatically outstretched.

"Mei," Ava muttered. "Please, no."

But Mei was already there, grabbing Ava’s hands and spinning her in a circle like they were in a period drama.

"Your instincts, your brilliance! The world is not ready for Ava Lee!"

Ryan, who had zero shame, clapped along. "I agree."

Harold sighed dramatically behind Mei. "And yet, here we are."

Ava was about to die from embarrassment when Madam Hoshino paused mid-step, glancing back.

For a horrifying second, Ava thought she was going to revoke the compliment.

But instead, Madam Hoshino simply raised a single eyebrow, let out an exasperated sigh, and continued walking.

Ryan wheeze-laughed into his fist.

Ava glared at him. "I hate you."

Ryan wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him with effortless ease.

"No, you don’t," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Ava sighed, melting despite herself.

This man was going to be the death of her.

And, apparently, so was her grandmother.

As Mei launched into an animated retelling of how Ava’s victory was foretold by the stars, Ava groaned, leaning into Ryan’s chest.

"I need a vacation from this vacation," she muttered.

Ryan chuckled, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her temple.

"Well, too bad," he murmured against her skin. "Because we’re just getting started."

Ava closed her eyes, exhaling heavily.

Oh god.

She was in so much trouble.