Machio Araki had never been held princess-style before.
Especially not by a girl like Natsume Tachibana—a cold-eyed, mysterious beauty with a secret crimson tattoo pulsing on her collarbone, and a possessive streak wide enough to drive a truck through.
So when she finally ducked into the hallway and threw open the nearest supply locker, Machio expected freedom.
Instead—
She shoved them both inside and slammed the door shut.
"Wha—HEY! Why the hell are we hiding in a broom closet?!"
"Shhh," she hissed. "Too many witnesses. Plus… you smell like catnip and shame."
Machio blushed so hard he nearly ignited.
The locker was tiny. Barely enough room for one person. Two meant Machio's back was pressed against a mop bucket and Natsume's everything was pressed against him.
Too much everything.
Her chest—was right there.
Her breath—hot on his neck.
And the worst part?
She was sweating.
Just a little.
Tiny beads of glistening sweat trickled down her temples, neck, and collarbone—like slow, forbidden teardrops of lust designed by the gods of temptation.
Machio's brain blue-screened.
Natsume noticed.
"...You're staring."
"N-NO I'M NOT!"
"You're drooling."
"I AM NOT—!"
Natsume tilted her head slightly.
A single drop of sweat slid down her cheek, down her neck, and paused at the top of her collarbone.
Machio's eyes followed it with the intensity of a starving hawk watching prey.
Then.
Ping!
A system notification popped into his vision.
[CRIMSON QUEST: Lick the sweat of your Pact Partner. Intimacy Required to Stabilize Bond.]
Failure will result in temporary curse: "Slippery Tongue."
Machio screamed internally.
WHY IS THIS SYSTEM SO PERVERTED?!
"What's wrong with your face?" Natsume asked, frowning.
Machio flailed. "N-nothing! I'm just—thinking about taxes!"
Natsume narrowed her crimson eyes.
"Lick it."
"HUH?!"
"My sweat. I saw the system. You need to lick it, right?"
Machio choked on air. "N-no! I mean yes—but no! I can't just—"
"I'm your Pact Partner." She leaned in, breath tickling his ear. "You're mine, remember?"
He whimpered. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Immensely."
Silence.
Heat.
Breathing.
Then—
Machio leaned in. Very slowly. Very hesitantly.
His tongue darted out, trembling.
And licked the single droplet of sweat from her collarbone.
...
...
Ding!
[Quest Complete. Intimacy Increased. Curse Avoided.]
Natsume shivered slightly.
Machio nearly passed out.
Her scent—spicy shampoo and something wild beneath—hit his brain like a truck. Her skin was soft. Her eyes widened just a bit.
And then—
The door to the locker banged.
"FOUND HIM!" someone shrieked.
Machio and Natsume froze.
"Crap," he muttered.
She rolled her eyes. "Let's teleport."
"What?! You can do that?!"
"Only if you hold on tight."
"How tight—?"
She grabbed his face and kissed him.
Everything exploded.
Light. Heat. Crimson sparks.
And in the next moment—
They vanished.
Meanwhile, at Phantom Kiss Café…
Azumi Araki adjusted her apron and sighed.
Running a cursed café that attracted spirits, demons, and thirsty schoolgirls was harder than it looked. But hey, she needed the money—and someone had to keep the lights on while Machio was off being a magical punching bag.
She wiped down the counter.
And froze.
Because someone was watching her.
A girl.
Sitting in the far booth.
Short purple hair. Golden eyes. A black hoodie with skull pins. Lollipop in her mouth.
Kira.
One of the "Death Council." And an infamous chaos agent who loved drama like moths loved flames.
Azumi smiled politely.
"Can I help you?"
Kira licked her lollipop.
"You're Machio's mom."
"...Yes."
"He gets his butt kicked a lot."
Azumi blinked. "True."
"Cool." Kira grinned. "You single?"
Azumi choked on her tea.
"EXCUSE ME?!"
Kira shrugged. "Just thought I'd shoot my shot. You're kinda hot for a café manager."
Azumi turned bright red.
From the kitchen, a crash echoed.
Followed by the sound of pans clattering.
Misaki's voice shouted, "WHY IS THE ONIGIRI SHAPED LIKE CAT BUTTS?!"
Kira waved.
"I'll be back tomorrow~," she sang, hopping off the booth.
"Wait—what do you mean—?"
"Tell your son his future girlfriend says hi."
She vanished out the door.
Azumi stared after her, stunned.
"…What the hell is wrong with this Cafe?"
Back at Natsume's apartment…
They landed in a heap.
On her bed.
Natsume on top.
Machio on bottom.
Mouth to mouth.
Silence.
Then—
"…You can get off now," he squeaked.
"I could."
"Please?"
"I won't."
Machio whimpered.
She smirked.
"You liked it, didn't you?"
"N-no! Maybe. I mean, I panicked!"
"Sure you did."
She leaned closer.
Their noses touched.
Their breaths mixed.
And then—
The door slammed open.
"NA—TCHAAAAAN~!!"
It was Yuzu.
Holding a giant bag of groceries.
Behind her, Nariyuki peeked in and froze.
"Oh."
Pause.
Long silence.
Then Yuzu grinned.
"DID I MISS A HENTAI SCENE?!"
Machio screamed.
Again.
To be continued