After the front door closed behind him, Rai Hikaru had no idea that his small act of kindness had left such a deep impression on Yukino Shinto—
that, to her, he had already become the center of her fantasies.
At that moment, Rai was focused on something else entirely: the girl who had finally finished changing her uniform and was stepping out of the room.
Shizunomiya Natsuka.
Her usual short academy skirt was gone. Probably because it had been soaked earlier, she was now wearing a knee-length version of the school uniform skirt—but her long, shapely legs were still sheathed in sheer black stockings. The modest skirt did nothing to hide the mature curves that didn't belong on a girl her age. Combined with her cold expression, the effect was sharp enough to make any boy swallow hard.
"Took you long enough to change. Come on, we'll be late for class," Rai said flatly, already halfway to the door.
Natsuka let out a short, derisive laugh. "Heh. Waited for me, huh? Funny—I could've sworn you were having quite the pleasant little chat with Miss Yukino next door just now."
Rai looked over his shoulder, blinking. "You heard that?"
"I did," she replied, folding her arms. "I even saw your hand… ugh." She made a mock-grabbing motion, face scrunching in fake disgust.
"Hey," she added, "Miss Yukino's a widow, you know. You really think that kind of thing's okay?"
Rai gave her an unimpressed look. "And that's your business because…?"
He wasn't one of those soft-hearted harem-protagonist types from anime—the kind who blushed over every girl's opinion. He said what he meant, period.
"I…" Natsuka's voice trailed. She opened her mouth, realized she had no comeback, and shut it again.
Because, yeah—it really wasn't her business.
Still… she couldn't help herself. Seeing Rai—who usually acted so cold and emotionless—talking so gently, almost tenderly, to Yukino Shinto had stirred something unpleasant inside her.
Before she knew it, she'd let that irritation spill out.
But Rai didn't even flinch or look embarrassed. He just shut her down with cool indifference, as if her teasing were nothing but background noise.
"Fine," she said finally, throwing up her hands. "You're right. None of my business. Whatever."
Though she tried to sound casual, her voice carried a faint tightness, like she was swallowing something bitter.
Rai didn't answer. He simply turned and started down the stairs.
Clicking her tongue, Natsuka followed a step behind.
They were halfway down when Rai suddenly stopped and looked back at her.
"What?" she frowned, puzzled.
Rai's tone was perfectly calm as he asked, "That purple one… you changed it, right? The thong?"
"Wh—what purple—? A-ah?! You—you saw that when I was going upstairs earlier?!"
For a second, her brain froze. Then the meaning hit her full force, and her face went from milk-pale to bright crimson in an instant.
"Yeah," said Rai, completely deadpan. He even added, "Wasn't intentional. Your skirt was just too short."
Too calm… way too calm!
Natsuka slapped both hands over her face, heat flooding into her ears. She'd only ever seen scenes like this in movies—never lived them. Even her boldest experiments before had always been in secret, when no one was around to see.
Now, hearing Rai so casually mention it made her dizzy with shame.
And wait—
If he saw her back then… after she'd gotten wet…
Her mind crashed. That means he saw—?!
She nearly turned and bolted back upstairs right then and there. Maybe even flung herself out the window for good measure.
A moment later, her brain scrambled for a counterattack. She bit her lip hard, cheeks blazing, and stammered,
"W-w-what I wear under my skirt—what's it got to do with you anyway?!"
It was clearly meant to sound furious, but the result came out in a flustered, high-pitched flutter—half squeak, half pout. Like a kitten raising its tiny paws and mewing super fierce!
Adorable, but not threatening in the least.
Any normal boy would've folded immediately under that level of cute embarrassment. But Rai—freshly tempered by his encounter with Miss Yukino—handled it like a monk.
Expression steady, voice level, he replied, "It's your choice what you wear. I'm just saying, if you're going to wear skirts that short, maybe switch to some proper leggings. Otherwise people might see, and that'd be… unseemly."
He paused, then added in an even quieter tone, "And more importantly—you don't want someone like Kaede Masaru catching on, do you? Guys like him don't need any encouragement. If word gets around, you won't have just one pervert on your case—you'll have dozens."
A soft ping chimed inside Rai's mind.
[Ding! Host has advised the heroine to dress appropriately and not act too sultry. Pure intentions support true love! Reward: +30 Pure Love Points!]
Of course, Natsuka had no idea about that inner notification. But after hearing Rai's words, her irritation shifted into… confusion—and maybe, underneath that, something warm.
He's… worried about me?
"I... I get it," she said quietly, eyes darting down. "I already changed. I'm wearing shorts under now."
Her voice turned small and soft. For reasons she didn't understand, her heart gave a strange little flutter.
So this… is what it feels like to be cared about by a guy…?
But almost instantly, her embarrassment returned full force. Her face went bright red as she added hastily,
"B-but don't get the wrong idea! That… that purple thong, I—I only have one! I just bought it! Today was my first time wearing it!"
"I didn't know it'd... end up like that. Really—it was my first time ever!"
Rai tilted his head slightly. "Why are you explaining all this to me?"
"I—uh—no reason!" she squeaked.
She honestly didn't know either. Maybe it was vanity—she had been the former discipline committee vice-captain, the model student with that pure, angelic image. She didn't want him to think she was some kind of pervert.
Yeah. That was it. It definitely wasn't because she secretly cared what this guy—the same shameless boy who'd been flirting with a widow—thought of her!
Like hell! she thought furiously.
As Rai turned away and continued downstairs, Natsuka puffed up her cheeks in silent outrage.
Wear normal panties, wear leggings—he's not my teacher, why's he lecturing me?!
Fine. Fine! Let him act all proper. If she ever got the chance, she'd parade that thong right in front of him every day, just to watch him squirm.
Fuming internally, she stomped past him to the bottom of the stairs.
Rai, meanwhile, watched her back with a faintly distracted look—not because of the sway of her skirt, but because his mind had already drifted elsewhere.
If I remember right, he thought, a yuki-onna's body… changes over time. Without pregnancy, her desire keeps building year after year...
Yukino Shinto's husband died early. Doubt they ever... went that far. Definitely no child.
Judging from how she acts, she's been living alone for years. Withdrawn, isolated.
So when she invited me over for dinner... that might actually be dangerous.
What if "dinner" ends up meaning something else? Alone in her house, just the two of us... Would she—I mean, could she—actually push me down?
The snow woman devours the little chick? The widow devours the innocent boy?
A grin tugged at his lips. Well, given her looks, her figure, and that elegant widow charm… I guess I wouldn't be losing much either way.
Still… that "yuki-onna" thing could be trouble.
He exhaled, shaking his head lightly. Whatever. I'll just see what happens when the time comes. Maybe she really just wants to thank me over a meal, nothing more.
For now, best to focus on what matters—crushing more sleazy yellow-haired punks, spreading the Pure Love God of War doctrine, and building up my strength.
Rai Hikaru continued down the stairs with quiet resolve.
Unaware that, somewhere nearby, a certain white-haired widow was also deep in her own fantasy—
and had already finished what she started.