I came back to consciousness slowly, like I was rising from deep water.
Something warm was pressed against my stomach.
It took me a moment to understand what I was feeling, and even longer to open my eyes fully. When I did, the world was still unfocused at the edges, but I could make out Sakura clearly.
She was holding onto me.
Her arms were wrapped around my torso, her head resting against my stomach like she had fallen asleep there and refused to let go. For a second, I just stared, trying to process why I was on the bed and why she was clinging to me like that.
Then she moved.
Her head lifted sharply, and her eyes widened the moment she realized I was awake.
"P-ponchan! Y-you're up! You're finally awake!" Her voice broke with relief, too loud and too fast, like she had been holding it in for a long time. "Oh thank goodness… I missed you so much!"
She leaned in—close enough that I could feel her breath, like she didn't even realize how near she'd gotten.
I blinked a few times, caught somewhere between her presence and the lingering confusion in my head. The shift was too sudden—one moment that city, all neon lights and floating vehicles… and now here.
This place felt like the dream.
I slowly lifted a hand, reaching out to touch her face—just to make sure she was actually there.
Before my fingers could settle, a sharp pulse shot through my head.
A dull ache spread through my skull, tightening with each passing second until it felt like my thoughts were being pressed inward.
—and then it hit.
A sharp flash.
Shards of glass catching the light—my arm snapping forward—
the sound of it cutting through the air as it flew toward Usumi.
My breath caught.
The image broke apart just as quickly as it came, leaving only fragments behind.
I pressed my hand lightly to my temple, trying to hold onto it, but it slipped through my grasp. Not gone—just incomplete. Jagged. Like a memory that refused to stay still.
"Pon-chan… are you alright?"
"Y-yeah… sorry. Heh…"
The words felt hollow even as I said them.
There had been anger. I could feel it lingering, even now—sharp and heavy. My own voice, raised. Words I couldn't fully recall, but I knew they hadn't been good. I had been yelling at Usumi. Saying things I shouldn't have said.
Then something else surfaced—faint, but unmistakable. A sudden impact. A sharp jolt, like something had struck my head, followed by a blinding white that swallowed everything for a moment.
After that… nothing.
I shifted slightly, putting a bit of space between us. My body still felt unsteady, but I forced myself to focus, grounding myself in what was real in front of me.
"Sakura… um—ah…" My voice came out rough and strained. "W-where's Usumi? I need to apologize to him… for what I said." I looked away as I spoke. The words felt heavier than they should have. "H-he saved me from—"
Her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, cutting me off.
"I knew it! I just knew he would!" she blurted out. "He saves everybody—he's like a superhero, right? Right?"
"Uh—please Sakura, pay attention," I said, pulling slightly against her grip. "I did something really bad to him. I need to talk to him."
For a moment, Sakura just stared at me. Then her expression softened, the tension leaving her face as quickly as it had appeared.
She smiled again.
"It's okay, Pon-chan," she said softly, tilting her head. "You can just say sorry."
Her fingers tapped together lightly, as if she were repeating words she'd heard from someone else without fully grasping their meaning.
"That's how it works," she added, nodding like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "As long as you say sorry after, it's all okay again."
Then, almost proudly, she went on, "Sumi told me, he's just really smart like that!"
…It's not that simple.
The thought came immediately, heavy and certain. A single word didn't erase what I did. It didn't take back spilled blood. But looking at her—at how easily she believed it, how sure she was—
I hesitated. "…S-so," I started, my voice catching slightly despite myself, "where is Usumi?"
"Oh!" she said, brightening again. "He's out working on a… gig, I think he said? Or something like that. He gets a lot of new jobs all the time, hehe."
I nodded slowly, but I didn't fully relax.
Something about my memory still felt incomplete, like I was standing in front of a door I couldn't quite open.
But no matter how long I tried to reach for it, it stayed just out of grasp.
So, I let it go.
For now, the only thing that mattered was finding Usumi and apologizing.
"I think I need to use the restroom…" I said finally.
"Oh!" Sakura perked up immediately—but there was something different in it now, less playful excitement and more immediate concern, like she didn't want me slipping out of sight even for a second. "O-okay… but— I can come with you."
"No—!" The word came out sharper than I meant, almost a shout. I flinched slightly at my own voice. "I need to go alone."
Her expression changed instantly. Not into defiance, not into stubborn insistence—but into something smaller. A quiet, uneasy worry, like she was checking if she'd done something wrong.
"But…" she started, hesitating, her fingers tightening around the edge of her sleeve. "If you go alone, you might… not come back again."
"I will," I said quickly.
She shook her head once, unconvinced, like simple answers didn't work on her anymore.
"I just—" Her voice softened. "When people disappear… they don't always come back. And you did before, so… maybe next time you won't."
She swallowed, forcing the words out.
"Juna told me you were gone… and that you weren't going to come back, even if you wanted to. S-so… we shouldn't leave each other."
"Sakura, I'm going to soil myself—please just wait here."
She flinched slightly at that, like she'd been snapped out of something. Then she looked up at me again, forcing a small smile, like she was trying very hard to behave properly.
"I'll stay here," she said quietly, though it sounded more like she was convincing herself than agreeing.
"B-b-but you have to promise me something…" she added, her face turning a faint pink as her eyes darted away.
"I already gave you my word."
Her cheeks puffed out immediately, a tiny frown forming like she'd just caught something wrong.
"T-that's different…" she said, shaking her head. "It has to be a real promise." She took a small step closer, eyes fixed on me. "A super serious one."
"A super… what?"
She lifted a hand like she was blocking out my words, as if she needed to get it out properly before I could interrupt her again.
"I-if you don't come back, you have to let me play with your belly and squeeze and squish it as much as I want... A— and you can't complain or run off! Promise? Pretty please?"
"…uhh? That… was your super serious promise?"
"Pon-chan!" she snapped, cheeks faintly pink—more flustered than angry. "You have to... Promise."
I exhaled slowly, looking at her for a moment instead of answering right away. She wasn't demanding anything dangerous… just clingy in her own way.
Still, I hesitated.
"…A real promise, huh?" I muttered under my breath, more to myself than her.
She nodded quickly, like that was the most important thing in the world right now.
I scratched the back of my neck, thinking it over. It wasn't like she was asking for anything unreasonable—just a silly little promise. And right now, it seemed like the only thing that would keep her from worrying even more, even if it probably wouldn't fully settle her.
"…Heh," I let out a small breath, finally easing a little. "Okay. Fine. I...I promise."
Her whole expression shifted instantly like she'd been holding her breath the entire time. She then lifted a finger and gave her own nose a quick, smug little flick, like she'd just won a claw mahine game or somthing.
"Lucky~!" she chimed, turning her face away with an overly proud little huff, as though she had just pulled off a perfect victory entirely on her own. "Hehe…"
I stared at her. "Seriously? Is that all this was about?"
Sakura turned back to me with her head tilted slightly, a wide, satisfied grin on her face.
"Sorry, Pon-chan," she replied lightly, like that was all she needed to say for me to forgive her manipulative attack on me.
But for some reason, I found myself unable to stay annoyed. That kind of expression you only really see from someone younger, someone who doesn't yet understand what they're supposed to be careful about.
And against my better judgment, it softened something in me. I let out a quiet breath, the frustration fading before it could fully take shape.
"…Ah. Right. So—the restroom… where is it again?"
"Oh, right," she said at once, brightening as if the topic had never shifted at all. "It's two doors down from the kitchen. The same way we went yesterday when we made breakfast and saw Sumi-senpai. Remember?"
Yesterday. For a moment, I tried to place it in my mind, but it felt further away than it should have, like the distance between then and now didn't quite match how time passed. Still, it didn't matter right now.
"Yes, I remember," I said at last, nodding slightly.
I pushed myself up from the bed, the movement slow as my body adjusted, still a little unsteady. The room felt quieter as I stood, like the air itself had shifted now that I was no longer lying down.
I turned away from her and started toward the door, each step steadying me more than the last, my hand briefly brushing the edge of the frame as I reached it.
Before I left the room, I hesitated for a moment. It wasn't anything complicated. She had only told me where the restroom was. That was all.
And yet… she was still standing there, watching me like she didn't fully trust me to just leave and come back the way I said I would.
She had even insisted on that promise—like she already knew she was going to win either way—in her own stubborn, childish way. Not because she was trying to control anything serious, but simply because she didn't like the idea of me disappearing out of her sight.
I paused at the doorway, then turned my head slightly over my shoulder instead of fully facing her.
Sakura was still on the bed, just as she had been—hands resting in her lap, posture small and neat. She looked almost like a quiet little puppy told to sit and wait, obediently for a signal before she could move again.
I noticed it. The way she was holding back. The way she was trying, in her unfocused, innocent way, to do the right thing nomatter how much it hurt her to just sit there.
"…Thanks, Sakura. For everything," I said, just before turning away.
I didn't wait for a reply. The words lingered behind me as I started walking toward the stairs.
◆◈◆◈◆◈
"Voice… hey. Voice, are you there?"
I leaned closer to the sinks mirror, watching my own reflection like it might answer if I looked at it the right way... But nothing came.
"…No, come on," I muttered under my breath. "You were there before. I know you were. Why are you being all quiet now?"
Silence. Only the faint hum of the building and the sink dripping in slow, uneven drops.
I let out a short breath through my nose and tried again, a little sharper this time.
"Hey. I'm talking to you."
Nothing changed.
My jaw tightened slightly. "Don't do that. Don't just disappear when I try to—" I stopped myself, exhaling. "Just… answer me."
Still nothing.
I straightened a little, staring at my reflection like it had betrayed me by refusing to react. Then I shook my head once, more to myself than anything else.
I stepped forward and braced a hand against the sink, lowering my head over the basin as the last of the water slowly dripped down the drain.
The bathroom was quiet in that uneasy way that made even breathing feel too loud, and for a moment I just stood there listening to the emptiness settle. Then something snapped at me.
"Who the hell you think you're talkin' to like that, ya fuckin' dumbass?"
The voice didn't come from inside my head this time. It came from behind the shower curtain.
I turned too quickly.
The curtain was yanked aside, and Ammo Tits —Korai—was there.
My mind short-circuited for a second.
I saw her too clearly, too suddenly—the full presence of her standing there like she owned the space, unbothered, unguarded. Heat shot up my neck before I even had a chance to think about it properly, and I felt my eyes lock for half a second too long.
Shit.
I snapped my gaze away immediately, turning my head like it was a reflex I didn't even control. My hand came up in front of my face almost on instinct, not to hide from her, but to force myself not to look again.
"Sorry," I muttered quickly, voice rougher than I meant it to be. I backed up a step, then another, turning my shoulder away so I wasn't facing the curtain anymore. "I didn't know you were in there."
The floor tiles suddenly became very interesting. Anything was better than looking back.
I cleared my throat, still half-turned, still refusing to glance over my shoulder.
"…I'll wait outside," I said, already moving toward the door, keeping my eyes down the whole way.
I barely made it half a step before something flew through the air and nerly missed me-A bar of soap struck the door frame next to the side of my head with a dull, wet thud.
I flinched hard, one hand flying up to the impact as I staggered slightly. The shock pulled me back into the moment, grounding me whether I wanted it or not.
"Hey—I said it was an accident," I muttered under my breath, more confused than angry.
From behind the curtain, her voice followed—quieter now, but no less firm.
"Stay."
It wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. Something in the way she said it made the room feel smaller.
I turned away quickly, hand covering my eyes. "I—I'm sorry, I should've knocked. I didn't expect—"
"Move your hand. We're both girls, right?"
"N-no, I'm a guy."
A beat of silence passed before her tone sharpened as she asked, "You wanna keep playin' stupid with me?"
Right. I totally forgot what my body looked like now. No one would believe it unless they saw my—never mind. Better they think I'm a girl.
"N-no, please, just don't hurt me—" The words caught in my throat as I dropped my hand and realized just how close she was to me. "Huh…?"
I was looking straight at her midsection— it wasn't just defined—it was a map of discipline, each ridge of muscle a testament to years of control. The low light from the bathroom fixture caught the subtle sheen of damp skin, softening the hard lines just enough to make them look like they were almost like it was apologizing for the blow she'd given me back in that filthy, nightmare-like adult club.
When I lifted my gaze, I could barely see her face; her chest blocked most of it, the only thing breaking through that wall of softness was her smirk, smug and perfectly aware of what she was doing.
I'd never seen a woman in that kind of state before—not counting that one accidental glimpse of my mother years ago. But this was different. If things were any less strange, I might've even appreciated the view… but right now, it was just way too much for me to process.
A hand came down onto my head, firm and sudden, like I was some stray she was sizing up.
"Ayo, what's with that attitude?" she snapped, voice sharp and loud. "You're mine now—I picked you up myself. Thought that'd have you actin' right, maybe try to be a little cool for once, not standin' there lookin' dumb as hell."
I stiffened under her grip, not even sure how to respond to that.
She turned away like the moment was already over for her, reaching for her things without a second thought. What caught me off guard wasn't the motion itself, but the contrast—she pulled on light pink underwear, soft and bright in a way that felt almost disarming.
I'd expected something darker, heavier—something that matched the lingering, almost predatory atmosphere she carried in moments like these. Something that would have made sense of the way she spoke, the way she moved.
Instead, it was simple. Ordinary. Almost innocent.
And somehow, that made it harder to reconcile with the image I had built of her in my head.
As she pulled them up, she glanced back over her shoulder, catching me off guard again.
"...The hell are you looking so closely for like that?" she said over her shoulder, not even turning back fully. "It's just regular underwear."
"Um—s-sorry," I stammered, immediately looking away. "Do you know where Sumi-senpai is?"
"What do you want with him?" she asked, her tone turning sharper.
"I—I just wanna return the favor. He saved me from that rig thing in the city, and I—"
She cut me off, letting her hair fall forward as she adjusted the waistband of her underwear.
"So that's how he got that cut on his arm… a rig, huh?" she muttered, then scoffed. "Nah, that's bullshit."
Her eyes narrowed, irritation creeping into her voice. "Seriously? A rig? Those sorry-ass things can barely stand straight without tripping over their own damn feet. You're telling me that's what actually landed a hit on Usumi?"
She gave a short, humorless laugh. "That don't make a damn bit of sense…"
I shut up immediately. If that already surprised her, then hearing the full truth definitely wouldn't go over well.
"Hey—" she said, a slow grin spreading across her face. "If he's really getting that weak… guess I could check up on him. See how that little 'gig' of his is goin'."
That word again. Gig. Sakura had used it too.
"The twins are already there anyway," she added casually. "He should be fine… unless—" Her grin sharpened as her eyes landed on me. "Hey. Pondaru, right? You wanna come along for the ride?"
"Uh—n-no, I'm fine," I said quickly. "I have to go back to Sakura. I promised I wouldn't leave her."
For a second, she just stared at me. Then her expression shifted. The easy grin faded, replaced with something flatter—colder. Less amused.
"…Seriously? Thought you'd make savin' Usumi and those dumbass brats at least a little fun," she scoffed, her voice loud and cutting as she threw her arm out in irritation. "But nah—go ahead, suit your fuckin' self, you lame-ass hipster."
She didn't even bother looking back at me as she started for the door.
"W-wait—you're going to see Usumi?" I called out, my voice catching.
She stopped just enough to glance over her shoulder, her expression twisting into something sharper, meaner.
"The hell you think?" she snapped. "Ain't you the one runnin' your mouth about wantin' to see that idiot?"
She clicked her tongue, shaking her head like I'd already disappointed her.
"But forget it," she went on, voice rising again, rough and unapologetic. "Go crawl back to that pink-haired moron if that's what you're into. You ain't built for this shit anyway."
Her smirk came back, nastier this time. "Thought you might actually be down to run with the big kids," she added, almost laughing. "Guess you're just another soft-ass brat. That's on me for expectin' anything different though."
And just like that, she turned and started walking out, like I wasn't even worth another second.
"W-wait—" I called after her, panic kicking in before I could think. I rushed forward and grabbed her arm. Big mistake.
She reacted instantly, wrenching free and shoving me back hard enough to send me to the floor.
"Get the hell off me!" She snapped.
I hit the ground rough, the breath leaving my lungs, but I didn't stay down long. I scrambled forward again, dropping near her feet without thinking, desperation overriding everything else.
"I—I wanna go," I stammered, my voice shaking. "P-please."
She paused. For a second, I thought she'd just kick me off and keep walking.
Instead, she let out a low scoff. "Damn… look at you," she muttered, almost amused now. "Pathetic."
Her foot nudged against me, not hard—just enough to push me back a little, like she was deciding what to do with me.
Then her hand grabbed the back of my collar, lifting me up like I weighed nothing.
"Only reason I ain't droppin' you right here," she said, her tone thick with arrogance, "is 'cause you're mine—don't get it twisted. Anyone else? I would've had 'em bleedin' on the floor, laid the hell out for that second touch."
When she'd shoved me earlier, the strap of her bra had slipped off her shoulder—maybe more than that.
Now, with me still dangling in her grip, she tilted her head slightly toward it. "Since this is partly your fault," she said, tone sharp but teasing, "fix it."
I froze. She couldn't be serious. But the look she gave me said otherwise. Awkwardly, I reached up, fingers brushing her skin as I slid the strap back into place.
The moment stretched—too long, too warm—then she finally let go, dropping me back onto my feet. Her grin widened like she'd enjoyed every second of it.
"Pass me that."
Her hand snapped up in a sharp, almost commanding point—arm fully extended, finger locking onto a small, cute-looking skirt like it was a target. The gesture was so sudden and precise it felt less like a request and more like an order being fired off.
I blinked, caught off guard by the contrast, my eyes drifting to what she was pointing at. A soft, almost schoolgirl-like skirt—completely different from the outfit I'd first seen her in.
For someone as intense as her, it didn't quite make sense at first glance. Even the smaller details stuck out more than they should've—the soft pink underwear she'd put on instead of the darker, strappy look from the other day. It all felt a little too casual, almost out of place on her, like she'd slipped into a different version of herself without warning.
"...Heh." She let out a short, amused chuckle, like she was already done entertaining the situation. "You were the one sayin' you're fine earlier," she said, her tone sharping again. "When I asked you to tag along. Now what—suddenly you're acting all worked up just 'cause you found out Usumi's gonna be there?"
She stepped in closer, invading my personal space and snatching the skirt from my hands before I could even process the question. A faint blush bloomed across her cheeks, and she looked away for a second.
"Don't fuckin' look at me like that. I know it's different from my usual shit, but it's the only way to get a lolicon creep like Usumi to even glance in my direction," she admitted, her voice dropping. She met my eyes again, her expression hardening into a territorial glare.
" So, stay in your lane, kiddo. I'm the one who gets to pop that cherry, you hear me?" She stated it like she was laying down the law. "You want sloppy seconds? You wait your damn turn. Got it?"
What?! Is he really like that? Why did her words sound so certain about it? The thought flashed through my mind, confusion hitting me in a sudden wave. I'd never seen him act suggestive—toward me or Sakura. Not even—
"The hell are you spacing out for? Got lost in your own head or something?" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "I said—got it?"
"G-got it!" I replied, jolting at her sudden intrusion into my thoughts, splitting them clean in half.
Her eyes narrowed, scanning me from head to toe like I was a problem she needed to solve. "And knock off that stuttering bullshit," she hissed, her voice a low, sly whisper. "That's too goddamn sexy for a lolicon like him." She tossed out the advice with the air of a seasoned hunter stalking her prey.
"You're pretty much doin' the cha cha slide into his pants, save that shit for when I'm done tappin' his ass like a fuckin' keg."
What the hell is wrong with this woman…?
I stood there nodding along, completely speechless, my thoughts grinding to a halt as her "logic" wrapped itself around everything like a vice—warping it into something I couldn't even begin to untangle, no matter how hard I tried.
There was no point arguing. No angle, no opening, nothing I could say that would drag this back into reality.
All I could do was follow along, unwillingly dragged into her seriously incriminating, completely unhinged conclusions about Usumi. I mean, I've never seen him do anything weird—nothing that would even make me lean toward believing this crazy woman in the first place. In my head, he's still just… him. Quiet, distant, normal enough.
And yet here she is, talking like she's got him completely figured out.
"And don't even think about double-crossing your master," she added, a bright grin tugging at her lips—almost playful, almost cute… even for someone as tough and sharp as her.