The morning breeze in Fujisawa Cups carried the faint scent of sakura, coffee, and emotional confusion.
Azumi stirred the rice gently, humming. Kira sat at the kitchen table, watching her with a gaze far softer than anything a trained assassin should carry.
"You really didn't have to help with breakfast," she murmured.
"I wanted to," Kira replied, sipping miso soup. "I'm trying this whole… human thing."
Azumi smiled without looking. "You're not doing too badly."
He tilted his head. "I made your son cry."
She turned to him, arching a brow. "That's part of being a mother. We forgive the boys who make our sons cry… sometimes."
Kira blinked. "Does this mean we're—"
"Friends," Azumi said, too quickly. "Just friends."
But the way she gently flicked his forehead said otherwise.
He blinked again. "That hurt less than I expected."
Azumi smirked, cheeks faintly red. "Next time, it won't."
---
Meanwhile, at Heiron High...
Machio slumped into his desk like a dying slug. His lips were still tingling from the Kira kiss, and worse—
His social life was crumbling like overcooked ramen.
Anzu-senpai, the graceful, sharp-tongued art club queen, approached.
"Hey, Panty Prince."
He groaned. "Please stop calling me that."
She held up her sketchpad. "This says otherwise."
He blinked. On the page was an elegant pencil sketch of that exact moment—Machio kissing Kira under the sunset, with Azumi holding groceries in the background, mouth agape.
"WHY DO YOU KEEP DRAWING THESE?!"
"I like romance," Anzu said, sitting beside him. "Especially tragic ones. Or perverted ones. Or both."
Machio blinked, flustered.
She leaned closer. "You know… I wouldn't mind if you kissed me next time. For reference, of course."
He gulped. "Y-You're messing with me."
Anzu smiled behind her glasses. "Maybe."
But her hand lingered a second too long on his.
---
In the Assembly Hall…
The entire student body sat bored out of their minds, the scent of cheap deodorant and lust thick in the air.
On stage, Principal Heimi Kuronuma stood in full dominatrix glory, arms behind her back, riding crop gently tapping her thigh.
"Today," she announced, "we will hear from our most notorious student."
Machio blinked. "Who, me?!"
Heimi smiled. "Yes. Machio Araki will now deliver an inspiring message to his peers."
Nariyuki leaned over. "Dude, don't screw this up. Just talk about dreams or world peace or—"
DING.
[New Quest: Masturbate in front of the whole school. Bonus: Make eye contact with the PE teacher.]
Machio screamed internally.
Nariyuki saw the screen too. "What. The actual. F—"
Yuzu, the class rep beside them, peeked over her book. "Well, that's illegal. Also very hot."
Machio stood, face pale.
He walked to the stage, trembling. Heimi handed him the mic, eyes gleaming.
"Do it, Araki," she whispered. "Entertain us."
He brought the mic to his lips.
"I… uh… believe in school spirit."
Sweat poured. Hands shook. His zipper screamed in fear.
Just as he reached for his waistband—
"PANTY PRINCE! STOP!" Anzu shouted from the crowd.
He froze. So did everyone else.
Nariyuki stood up. "HE'S BEING CONTROLLED BY A DEMONIC APP! MASTURBATE IS LIFE !!!!"
Yuzu nodded solemnly. "Or puberty. Hard to tell."
Principal Heimi tilted her head. "Very well. In light of your… struggles, your punishment shall be downgraded."
Machio sighed in relief.
"To janitorial duty in the old record room."
Machio choked. "That doesn't sound better!"
---
After School – The Record Room of Doom
Dust. Silence. Cobwebs shaped like inappropriate statues.
Machio sneezed as he entered the abandoned records office. He held up a candle—because apparently electricity didn't exist here.
Stacks of files towered like ghostly test scores from failed lives. He opened a drawer, reading names.
Hanazawa, expelled for pants theft. Check.
Rika Inoue, flashed the principal on a dare. Legendary.
Then… something odd.
A folder labeled:
TOKI GO-TO - Female Student
No photo. No description. Just one word stamped in red ink across the top:
"FORBIDDEN."
Machio blinked. "What the…"
He opened it. Inside was a single page:
> "Student was never enrolled. And yet… she exists. Staff must never speak of her. Seal all evidence. If she appears again, report to Kuronuma immediately."
Machio shivered. "Creepy urban legend vibes… activated."
And then he felt it.
A chill.
A whisper behind his ear:
"You shouldn't have read that."
He spun.
No one.
Just the file, and a small black-and-white photo slipping out from the back.
A girl.
Smiling.
Long black hair. Eyes that shimmered like wet ink. And behind her—
A single word scratched on the wall:
"Toki."
Machio clutched the photo. "Who the hell are you…?"
---
Outside the Room…
Natsume leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Anzu stood beside her, chewing on a Pocky stick.
"You sure he'll be okay?" Anzu asked.
"He's tougher than he looks," Natsume replied.
Anzu smirked. "You like him."
"So do you," Natsume shot back.
Anzu shrugged. "I'm not the one who threatened to suck his soul out if he kissed anyone else."
Natsume glared.
And then—
The lights flickered.
They heard it too.
A girl's laugh, distant.
Like an echo from a dream.
Or a nightmare.
---
To Be Continued.