Standing inside Shikime Natsu's cabin, Horikita Suzune's wine-red eyes remained fixed on him. It sounded like something out of a fairy tale — and yet, somewhere deep in her heart, she had slowly begun to believe that he could actually do everything he claimed.
After all, this person called Shikime Natsu — as insufferable as he was, insufferable enough to make her teeth ache — every single word he spoke seemed to land with purpose. Nothing he said was ever empty air.
If he dared to say "I can do it" to her face, then on this matter, he had a degree of confidence that ordinary people simply couldn't reach. The word "impossible" just didn't seem to apply to this man. He had a habit of producing things that defied imagination — miracles, almost, that he seemed to conjure on purpose.
Shikime Natsu caught the faint flicker of wavering and inner struggle in Horikita Suzune's eyes. The corners of his mouth curved upward, a smile of quiet, total confidence spreading across his face.
"But of course, Horikita-san."
Horikita Suzune lowered her gaze, her wine-red eyes glimmering with a tangle of complicated emotions.
So — what was she supposed to do now?
Was she really going to do as he said — entrust her body to this man without reservation and let him perform his so-called "massage treatment"?
Her rational mind told her that such intimate physical contact was simply too much for her. And yet the pressure of reality bore down on her like a mountain, crushing and immovable.
On this deserted island, other than relying on Shikime Natsu's method, there was absolutely no way for her to obtain fever medication without spending class points.
And her current physical condition had already reached its limit. The waves of dizziness, the bone-deep aching — every sensation was a reminder that if she kept pushing herself through sheer stubbornness, there was no way she would last another six days.
Horikita Suzune instinctively touched the sensor bracelet on her wrist. The cold bite of metal reminded her that the school was monitoring every student's vital signs at all times.
So far, the bracelet hadn't sounded any urgent alarm — most likely because she hadn't yet reached the threshold the teachers had described as "extreme physical distress" that would trigger a mandatory evacuation.
But Horikita Suzune had a feeling. If her condition continued to deteriorate in the days ahead, she would eventually be forced off the island and sent back to the cruise ship.
And if she withdrew early due to her health, Class D would face a massive class point deduction as punishment.
For Horikita Suzune — who had dedicated everything to leading her class to the top, to earning her brother's recognition — that was something she simply could not accept under any circumstances.
She could endure the pain, yes — but she also knew her body's limits clearly. And if things truly deteriorated to a certain point, the school would force her out whether she wanted it or not.
Horikita Suzune drew a slow, deep breath — as though exhaling the very last trace of hesitation from her chest — and gradually lifted her slightly unfocused eyes to meet Shikime Natsu's gaze directly.
"Then… could I… ask Shiki-san to… help me out a little?"
As those words left her lips, Horikita Suzune felt her cheeks burning even hotter than her fever — if that were even possible. Her voice, usually so crisp and composed, had dwindled by the end to something barely above a murmur, thin as the hum of a mosquito.
Shikime Natsu stood there listening — with his hearing, naturally, every syllable had reached him with perfect clarity. And yet — he smiled, that patently deliberate, mischievous smile of his.
"What was that, Horikita-san? I didn't quite catch it."
Horikita Suzune's wine-red eyes instantly flooded with indignant fury.
Of course she knew this insufferable person was doing it on purpose. He wanted to watch her beg just a little more. In the past, Horikita Suzune would have simply turned on her heel and walked out. But… after spending so many days alongside Shikime Natsu, she had long since grown accustomed to his ways. And being on the receiving end of his "guidance" had taught her something: if you needed a favour from someone, you had to approach it with the proper attitude. Going to someone with your nose in the air never got you anywhere.
Suppressing the surging tide of embarrassed indignation threatening to overwhelm her, Horikita Suzune clenched her fists tightly and repeated herself — rapid-fire, but each word cut through clearly.
"I said… please, Shiki-san — help me get treatment!"
Seeing the look on Horikita Suzune's face in that moment, Shikime Natsu finally broke into a genuinely satisfied smile. Good. His efforts hadn't been wasted after all. The current Horikita Suzune at least understood: if you were asking for help, you had to do it properly. If she'd still acted the way she used to — all sharp edges and cold disdain — then everything he'd done for her before would have amounted to nothing.
"But of course. After all… as your friend, I can hardly stand by and watch Horikita-san suffer through a fever on this deserted island. If you push yourself through an illness and end up with lasting after-effects, that would be a real shame."
Horikita Suzune thought: this guy, have a conscience? Since when? He was clearly enjoying every second of it.
From the way he'd acted just now, it was perfectly obvious he'd been revelling in the whole thing. If she had shown even the slightest lack of sincerity, this awful person would absolutely have stood there with his arms crossed and done nothing — or worse, made some even more outrageous, unspeakable demand.
It was fortunate, then, that she had chosen to surrender to the situation. To her past self — the one who existed before she enrolled here — the girl she was right now would look utterly pathetic. But… the current Horikita Suzune wasn't entirely sure which version of herself was better.
Her old self would have had no way to handle something like this. She might well have become the one dragging the class down. But her current self… if Shikime Natsu's method actually worked, then she wouldn't have to suffer needlessly — and she wouldn't become a burden to Class D, either.
"Thank you…"
Horikita Suzune offered her thanks stiffly, then glanced somewhat awkwardly around the room. Her gaze settled on a wooden chair in the corner.
"So… what do I do next? Do I sit in that chair?"
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, a peculiar feeling stirred inside her — subtle and inexplicable.
Ever since she had become Shikime Natsu's maid, most of the time it had been this man lounging brazenly in a chair while she, brimming with reluctant resentment, massaged him. Now… had the tables truly turned? Was it his turn to serve her?
The thought left her feeling strangely conflicted.
Even though the idea of Shikime Natsu's hands touching her body still stirred something uneasy inside her, if it was Shikime Natsu giving her the massage — a genuine reversal of roles — and for the purpose of treatment, no less… it actually didn't sound entirely terrible.
However, Shikime Natsu smiled and shook his head.
"No, Horikita-san. You don't need to sit in the chair."
She didn't need to sit?
Horikita Suzune blinked in surprise. Was she supposed to stand up for it then? That felt a little odd, but as long as it cured her illness, she supposed she couldn't afford to be picky. Still… would it be easy to maintain consistent pressure while she was standing?
Under Horikita Suzune's puzzled gaze, Shikime Natsu moved unhurriedly to the side, retrieved several clean shirts and jackets, and with practiced efficiency, laid them out in an even layer across the cabin floor.
Only at that moment did Horikita Suzune belatedly understand his intention. He wanted her to lie face-down on the floor.
Staring at those clothes laid out so neatly, something stirred in the depths of her heart — a warmth so quiet and fleeting she almost didn't notice it.
She hadn't expected it. This person, who was usually so insufferable it made her teeth grind — he actually had a side this gentle.
He had probably thought about how cold the wooden floor would be and worried that touching it in the middle of a high fever would be uncomfortable. So he'd carefully laid down a soft cushion of clothing instead.
"Now then… please take off your top, and lie down on that."
Shikime Natsu glanced back, dropping the bombshell in a perfectly ordinary tone of voice.
"...Ha?!"
Horikita Suzune went rigid where she stood. Her head rang like a struck bell. Had she really just heard what she thought she heard?
He wanted her to take off her top? In this private cabin, with just the two of them?
Shikime Natsu looked at the girl's expression — pupils visibly shaking, face a portrait of pure disbelief — and laughed softly, his tone completely matter-of-fact.
"Has Horikita-san never had a spa treatment or acupressure massage before? This is standard practice. And during the session, the only thing between you and the surface is usually a single towel."
A spa — that was indeed something Horikita Suzune had never experienced. But she had at least heard of the general concept. It was just that…
Conventionally speaking, wasn't that sort of private therapeutic treatment something done between people of the same gender? Or — a woman providing the service for a man?
This reversed arrangement filled her with a sense of shame she had never felt before.
And yet — the arrow was already nocked. There was no pulling it back.
If she changed her mind and fled now, not only would her fever go untreated, but all the mental fortifying she had just put herself through would be for nothing.
Horikita Suzune drew a deep breath, forcibly crushing the shame that threatened to burst through her chest, and spoke to Shikime Natsu through gritted teeth.
"…I understand. But — please, Shiki-san… step outside and wait for a moment first."
Now that she had made her decision, her nature wouldn't allow her to retreat empty-handed. Even if this shame was threatening to drown her, she would endure it.
Shikime Natsu, for his part, was a gentleman about it. He gave a small nod, said nothing further, and turned to push open the wooden door.
"Three minutes… come back in three minutes!"
Hearing the girl's instruction, her voice carrying the faintest tremor, Shikime Natsu didn't look back. But in the moment he pulled the door shut, he reached over and drew the leafy branches by the window across it, blocking every gap completely.
Changing clothes didn't actually take very long. But the girl needed this brief window of time to collect herself — and of course, to ensure that Shikime Natsu wouldn't come back too soon and find her clothes not yet sorted, giving him the opportunity to take advantage of the situation.
There was one more reason. The thought of undressing and then calling Shikime Natsu back in felt… strange. It was as though the two of them were doing something scandalous together, when in reality it was nothing more than a simple medical treatment. Nothing improper was happening at all… Of course, Horikita Suzune also had absolutely no intention of ever telling anyone about any of this.
The instant three minutes elapsed, he pushed the door open — not heavily, not tentatively. Just right.
Inside the cabin, the light had grown even more dim and soft.
Horikita Suzune lay still on the pile of clothes Shikime Natsu had spread out for her. Her neat tracksuit top had been folded and set aside. From his angle, what came into view was a scene as beautiful as a painting.
The ivory curve of the girl's back, flushed with the fevered heat of illness, glowing faintly in the dim light. Her shoulder blades — visible with delicate clarity, like the wings of a butterfly — rose and fell with each slightly quickened breath.
She had buried her face deep in Shikime Natsu's clothes, which carried a faint, cool, clean scent.
The posture was mortifying. And yet — breathing in that familiar scent from his clothes, Horikita Suzune's strung-tight nerves inexplicably eased, just a little.
This was the first time Horikita Suzune had ever been this close to the scent of Shikime Natsu's clothing. It felt strangely surreal. Though… compared to what was about to happen, this was the least of her concerns.
"Are you ready?"
Shikime Natsu closed the door. His low, quiet voice carried through the empty cabin.
"R-… ready. You can start…"
Horikita Suzune's voice came out muffled by the fabric, soft and yielding — none of its usual sharpness anywhere to be found.
This was the first time she had ever let herself appear like this in front of someone of the opposite sex — all her defences completely lowered. And now that she thought about it, the way she'd said those words… why did they sound so strange?
"Alright, I'm starting."
Shikime Natsu stepped forward, leaned slightly over Horikita Suzune, and slowly extended both hands.
The moment those slightly cool fingertips made contact with her blazing-hot back, Horikita Suzune's entire body gave a sharp, involuntary shudder.
That sensation…
It was strange. Unfamiliar.
His palms were nothing like an ordinary boy's — not rough, not clumsy. They carried a kind of firm, steady strength.
Shikime Natsu's fingertips landed precisely on the Dazhui point at the top of her spine. In that instant, Horikita Suzune felt a wave of aching, electric sensation shoot down her back like a current.
"Mmh…!"
A small, muffled sound escaped from between her lips.
Then Shikime Natsu began to apply pressure.
His technique was extraordinary. As his palms moved across her back, Horikita Suzune felt as though a current of warm energy was being pressed directly into her body — infused into her from somewhere outside.
Her limbs, which had felt heavy as lead weights, began — with each pass of those hands — to gradually lighten.
Was this… really just a massage?
Horikita Suzune marvelled from within her hazy, half-conscious state.
She could feel it clearly — wherever those hands with their impossible touch moved, the blocked channels beneath her skin seemed to burst open all at once. The heat trapped inside her body was rapidly dispersing.
This feels so good…
There was some soreness during the process, yes. But the profound sense of release that accompanied it was unlike anything she had ever experienced.
She had assumed the shame would never leave her. Yet as the minutes passed, that all-encompassing physical relief was quietly winning out.
Her body and mind seemed to drift free of the world's noise entirely, floating up toward the clouds.
Shikime Natsu worked with careful, thorough attention — covering every area Horikita Suzune needed, without missing a spot. And Horikita Suzune lay there, utterly relaxed against his clothes. The small, involuntary sounds that escaped her from time to time made even her own face flush and her heart race — yet she couldn't hold them back.
She had to admit it. Shikime Natsu's technique was genuinely exceptional. Somewhere in the world right now, she doubted there existed a massage practitioner who could compare to him.
It was then, in the middle of it all, that a thought surfaced in Horikita Suzune's mind: wasn't massage supposed to be for relieving physical exhaustion? Her fever was caused by a virus — it had nothing to do with fatigue. And Sakayanagi's condition certainly wasn't the kind of thing that could be fixed with a massage either, was it?
But she didn't dwell on it. Because right now… it felt so good…
The minutes slipped by in an instant.
When that warm, steady pressure on her back suddenly vanished, an emptiness she had never felt before bloomed in Horikita Suzune's chest — something hollow, and almost forlorn.
She had been… hoping he would keep going?
The moment she realised where her thoughts had gone, Horikita Suzune snapped back to herself with a start.
"The massage is over."
Shikime Natsu stood up. His tone was exactly as it always was.
"The rest of the time is yours. I'll head outside — take your time putting your clothes on."
And with that, he pushed the door open without a backward glance and left. The wooden door closed with a clean, crisp sound.
Horikita Suzune lay there on his clothes for a little while longer before finally pushing herself up slowly.
She was astonished to find that the dizzying, ground-tilting vertigo that had gripped her before was completely gone. In its place was a clarity and lightness she had never felt before.
She stood, rolled her shoulders — her body felt as light as if she were dreaming.
"This guy…"
Horikita Suzune murmured softly, and felt, once again, a flicker of genuine awe at Shikime Natsu's frightening ability.
Just a massage. And it had actually broken the fever.
She dressed quickly. Rather than stepping out immediately, she bent down and carefully folded each piece of clothing Shikime Natsu had laid on the floor — neatly, one by one — and placed them back where they belonged.
Pushing open the wooden door, the midday sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves and fell warmly across her face. Now that the fever had lifted, Horikita Suzune felt almost absurdly well — better than she had in days.
Shikime Natsu was leaning against a nearby tree trunk, idly turning a leaf between his fingers.
"Thank you, Shiki-san."
Horikita Suzune walked up to him and offered her thanks with quiet sincerity.
"No need to be so formal. After all… we're friends, aren't we?"
Shikime Natsu smiled at her, a warm, easy laugh in his eyes.
Something complicated moved through Horikita Suzune's wine-red eyes at those words. Then she said her goodbyes and turned to leave.
Just as Horikita Suzune had gone, a voice came from directly behind Shikime Natsu — and at the same moment, something that felt distinctly like a tree branch pressed itself against his lower back.
"Don't move."
"Shikime Natsu — you're under arrest."
____
Danmachi: Summoning Ruri Gokou, And oth
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