The morning light felt like a slap in the face. Yasuo stared at his phone screen, his vision blurring. Tenshin? The guy who sat in their booth, drank their whiskey, and helped them "delete" the evidence?
Next to him, the bed shifted. Daisetsu groaned, his massive arm reaching out to pull Yasuo back into his warmth. The night before had been... intense. Every inch of Yasuo's body felt the phantom touch of Daisetsu's hands. But the sweetness was gone, replaced by the bitter taste of betrayal.
"Daisetsu," Yasuo whispered, his voice cracking. "Look."
Daisetsu sat up, his bare chest rippling in the sunlight. He took the phone, his eyes scanning the portal notification. Yasuo watched the transformation—the relaxed, post-romance glow vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying stillness.
"Tenshin," Daisetsu hissed. The name sounded like a curse.
"I don't get it," Yasuo said, scrambling out of bed and throwing on a wrinkled shirt. "He helped us! He was laughing with us! Why would he leak the security footage?"
Daisetsu stood up, not even caring that he was only in his sweats. He looked like a storm cloud. "Because Tenshin Hibiki doesn't do anything for free. He didn't delete the footage; he just moved it to a private drive. He was waiting for the perfect moment to maximize the damage."
"We have to go to the school," Yasuo said, his "Shy Nurturer" side turning into "Angry Baker." "We have to stop that meeting at any cost."
"No," Daisetsu said, grabbing Yasuo's shoulders. His grip was firm, grounding. "You stay here and help Grandma with the shop. If you show up there, they'll use you as leverage against me. This is a trap for the 'violent criminal,' remember?"
"Ettoo—"
Daisetsu silenced him with a kiss. It wasn't the hungry, desperate one from last night. It was slow, deep, and tasted like a goodbye. "I'll handle Tenshin. You stay safe. Promise me."
Yasuo nodded, but as soon as Daisetsu's motorcycle roared away, he knew he couldn't just sit there. He didn't go to the school, though. He went to the one place Tenshin loved more than his ego: The Velvet Lounge.
The bar was closed, but the side door was propped open for deliveries. Yasuo snuck in, his heart pounding. He found Tenshin sitting at the bar, nursing a coffee and looking at his laptop. He didn't look like a villain; he looked like a guy who just won the lottery.
"Good game, Tenshin," Yasuo said, stepping into the light.
Tenshin didn't even jump. He just turned the laptop around. "Ah, that's you...the Baker Boy. You're early. I figured you'd be crying in your flour right now."
"Why?" Yasuo demanded, slamming his hand on the mahogany bar. "Daisetsu trusted you! You were friends, right?!"
"Friends?" Tenshin laughed, a sharp, cold sound. "Daisetsu is a relic. He thinks he can just 'protect' his way through life. But the school board? They want someone clean. Someone like me. With him out of the way, the Vice Principal position is mine. Kaede gets her revenge, I get the promotion. It's a win-win."
"You're a snake," Yasuo spat.
Tenshin stood up, towering over Yasuo. He reached out, his fingers tracing the collar of Yasuo's shirt—the one Daisetsu had nearly torn off the night before. "And you? You're just a distraction. A cute one, sure, but a distraction. Do you think a man like Daisetsu can actually keep you safe? Look at your shop. It's a tomb."
Yasuo didn't flinch. "He didn't break the shop. Your 'win-win' buddies did. And if you think a leaked photo is enough to kill his spirit, you don't know him at all."
Suddenly, the front door of the bar slammed open. Daisetsu stood there, his leather jacket dripping with morning dew. He didn't look angry; he looked disappointed.
"I told him to stay home, Tenshin," Daisetsu said, walking toward the bar.
Tenshin smirked. "He's got a big mouth for a small guy. Are you going to hit me, Daisetsu? Right in front of your little boyfriend? Prove everyone right about your 'underground' temper?"
Daisetsu stopped inches from Tenshin. The tension was so thick the glass bottles on the back shelf seemed to vibrate. Daisetsu reached out, but he didn't swing. He grabbed Tenshin's expensive silk tie and pulled him close, their faces inches apart.
"I'm not going to hit you," Daisetsu whispered, his voice like sliding over gravel. "I'm going to do something much worse. I'm going to show the Board the other half of that footage. The part where you entered the server room five minutes before us to 'prepare' the leak."
Tenshin's face went pale. "What? I didn't—"
"You're sloppy, Hibiki," Daisetsu said, letting go of the tie with a look of disgust. "You forgot that Yuka Iroha isn't the only one who knows how to use a camera. My 'bakery help' here has a very talented friend who caught you entering the building on her way to find us."
Yasuo blinked. Yuka? He realized Daisetsu was bluffing—or maybe he wasn't. Either way, the "Stoic Protector" was playing the "Snake" at his own game.
"You're lying," Tenshin hissed.
"Check your phone," Daisetsu said.
Tenshin scrambled for his phone. His eyes went wide as he saw a message from an unknown number—a grainy photo of him at the back entrance.
"Now," Daisetsu said, wrapping an arm around Yasuo's waist and pulling him close. "You're going to that meeting. And you're going to tell them that the photo was a 'misunderstanding'—a staged exercise for a drama club project. If you don't... well, I hear the underground circuit is looking for new 'talent' to practice on."
Tenshin looked at Daisetsu, then at Yasuo. He knew he was beaten. He grabbed his laptop and bolted out the door without a word.
Daisetsu let out a long, shaky breath, his forehead dropping onto Yasuo's shoulder. "That was a close one."
"Did Yuka really have a photo?" Yasuo asked.
"No," Daisetsu chuckled, pulling Yasuo into a tight, possessive hug. "But I knew he was arrogant enough to believe I had an ace up my sleeve. I'm a teacher, Yasuo. I know how to handle bullies."
He pulled back, his eyes full of a dark, swirling heat. "Now, about that 'distraction' comment... I think I need to remind you exactly how much of a priority you are."
He leaned in, his lips finding the sensitive spot on Yasuo's neck, his hands sliding down to grip Yasuo's hips. In the empty, dim bar, the "bromance" flared back into life, hotter than ever.
"Daisetsu... the meeting..." Yasuo moaned.
"Tenshin will handle the meeting," Daisetsu groaned into his skin. "I'm busy handling my baker."
They made it back to the bakery an hour later, the shop feeling a little less like a tomb and more like a home. But as they stepped inside, Grandma Mayonaka was standing by the newly boarded-up window.
She wasn't alone.
A tall man in a dark suit with graying hair stood next to her. He held a badge in his hand—not a police badge, but something much more official.
"Daisetsu Nakamura?" the man asked. "I'm with the Ministry of Education's Oversight Committee. We received an anonymous tip—not about a scandal, but about a gang infiltration in this district."
He looked at the wreckage, then at the two of them.
"We're not here to fire you, Sensei. We're here to ask for your help in taking them down. But first... we need to talk about the 'civilian' you're living with."