Time slipped through his fingers like flowing water. Kanjuro continued to maintain his leisurely posture as a perpetual high school student. On the campus of Sobu High School, he seemed like an eternal fixture. During class, he would occasionally daydream; after class, he would go to the Service Club to read, or on a whim, visit the infirmary to 'check on' Reika Kitami, who was growing more haggard by the day yet still stubbornly tried to warn him with her eyes.
However, his trajectory after school had quietly become fixed. He appeared more and more often in front of the Miura family's exquisite residence. Tomoko Miura always welcomed him with the utmost enthusiasm, with meticulously prepared dinners and eyes as gentle as water, as if trying to fill the void of the past eighteen years. She immersed herself in her lost-and-found 'happiness,' deliberately ignoring the undercurrents that violated social ethics surging beneath it.
Yumiko Miura's changes were even more obvious. The initial breakdown, struggle, and shame were gradually replaced by a twisted acceptance and deep entrapment under Kanjuro's daily gentle offensive and her mother's near-'encouraging' silent consent. She began to actively welcome Kanjuro's arrival, the avoidance in her eyes becoming less frequent, replaced by a complex light mixing dependence, infatuation, and possessiveness.
One evening, Kanjuro and Yumiko were walking side-by-side on the way to her home. The setting sun stretched their shadows long. Kanjuro keenly sensed a faint gaze following them from not far away. He remained calm until they were almost at the Miura house entrance, then spoke as if casually:
"Yumiko, is that girl who's always peeking at me a friend of yours?"
Yumiko glanced in the direction of his gaze toward a bespectacled figure hurriedly hiding behind a tree in the distance. A look of understanding, even a hint of imperceptible pride, appeared on her face. She leaned closer to Kanjuro, naturally hooking her arm into his, her voice carrying intimate complaining and a hint of possessive showing off:
"You mean Ebina? She's my good friend. But hubby~" She deliberately elongated the end of the word. She was calling him this more and more smoothly now, as if using this possessive term could completely cover up that unsettling blood relation. "I think she probably has feelings for you too, hubby. She peeks every day; her eyes are practically glued to you."
Kanjuro accepted the title of 'hubby' calmly, even finding it quite useful. It represented his total control and Yumiko's total sinking. He smiled gently and reached up to rub Yumiko's hair, his movements intimate and natural.
"Is that so?" His tone was flat, revealing no emotion, but a spark of interest flashed in his eyes. Another moth drawn to the flame? He looked at Yumiko and said in his usual, bewitching voice:
"Then, Yumiko, go and call your good friend over. Since she 'cares' about us so much, why not invite her to sit at home for a bit?"
Yumiko was stunned for a moment, then as if understanding something, instead of being unhappy, a strange smile like a shared secret appeared on her face. She nodded vigorously. "Okay, I'll go call her right now!"
She let go of Kanjuro's arm and jogged toward where Ebina was hiding. Kanjuro stood in place, watching Yumiko run off, the gentle smile on his lips gradually transforming into a deep, hunter-like darkness.
He enjoyed this feeling of having everything under control, watching these women fall into various complex entanglements because of him. Yui Yuigahama's avoidance and pain, Yukinoshita Yukino's cold gaze and faint concern, Reika Kitami's desperate warning, Tomoko Miura's humble devotion, Miura Yumiko's immoral indulgence... and now, it seemed a new character was about to join.
Ebina Hina... He remembered that little girl who always followed Miura Yumiko around, with sharp eyes that seemed to see through a lot, yet ultimately couldn't escape his gravitational pull.
Soon, Yumiko returned, pulling along a somewhat awkward Hina, whose cheeks were flushed red. Hina pushed up her glasses, her eyes darting around, not daring to look directly at Kanjuro, completely lacking her usual calm and sharp tongue.
"Ye... Mr. Kanjuro..." she greeted in a small, weak voice.
Kanjuro's face once again donned that impeccable mask of gentleness, his tone as warm as a spring breeze: "Classmate Ebina, it's too impolite to always have you watching from afar. If you don't mind, why not come over to the house for a bit? Aunt Tomoko's cooking is quite good."
His invitation was natural and appropriate, as if born purely out of classmate courtesy. But when those deep eyes fell upon Ebina, they carried an invisible force that made her heart race and her head spin, leaving her only able to nod blankly.
Yumiko watched from the side, tightening her grip on Kanjuro's arm, her face wearing a smile that was a mix of pride and a strange desire to share.
Kanjuro walked in the middle, with his 'daughter' and 'lover' Yumiko snuggling close on his left, and on his right, the restless Ebina Hina, who had been thrown into complete disarray by his sudden invitation.
The setting sun cast the shadows of the three onto the ground, entangled together, foreshadowing another more complex and distorted relationship about to quietly unfold within this seemingly warm 'family' atmosphere. Another involuntary piece had been added to Kanjuro's chessboard. And he remained the eternal player, sitting firmly on the fishing platform, enjoying the pleasure of layout and harvest. In the Miura family living room, the atmosphere suddenly dropped from subtle to freezing point. The gentle smile on Kanjuro's face vanished without a trace, replaced by a suppressed, heart-pounding coldness. His slender fingers held the drawing paper Ebina had handed over, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.
On the drawing paper, two figures were sketched with delicate strokes. One of them was indeed Kanjuro, shirtless, with smooth and distinct muscle lines; every contour exuded power and beauty, and some details were even depicted with extreme precision, as if the artist had seen them with her own eyes. Even Miura Yumiko, who was already familiar with Kanjuro's body, couldn't help but feel her cheeks heat up as she caught a glimpse, shocked by the detail and boldness of Ebina's observation.
However, what made Kanjuro's face turn ashen was not the overly realistic semi-nude portrait itself. It was the figure beside him, also meticulously depicted with a gentle smile—Hayama Hayato! The portraits of the two handsome men were closely drawn together, the composition and atmosphere exuding an undeniable ambiguity!
Ebina Hina had long since lost her earlier shyness, replaced by immense panic and helplessness. Seeing Kanjuro's face so dark it seemed ready to drip water, she was scared pale. She instinctively pushed up her glasses, her voice carrying a sob: "S-Sorry, Mr. Kanjuro! I... I just... really like drawing, and... I also really like reading BL doujinshi... I thought... I thought you and Hayama-kun looked very... very good together..." Her voice grew smaller as she spoke, finally becoming almost inaudible.
"Good together?" Kanjuro squeezed the words through his teeth, his voice terrifyingly low as he suddenly crumpled the paper into a ball, clutching it tightly in his palm. He slowly raised his head, those usually deep and smiling eyes now like two ice cellars, churning with undisguised disgust and fury. "What on earth is going through your head? It's one thing to draw me..." His gaze was as sharp as a knife, flaying Ebina, "But why did you have to draw Hayama Hayato next to me? Are you an idiot?! Huh?!"
What he could least tolerate was this behavior of distorting and fantasizing about relationships between men. In his long and dark life, he had witnessed too much filth and depravity, but he felt an instinctive, extreme disgust and repulsion specifically toward this kind of homoerotic ambiguity. This touched an unspeakable nerve of his.
Ebina trembled all over from the fright, and tears finally couldn't help but fall as she muttered, unable to form a complete sentence.
Kanjuro stopped looking at her and stood up abruptly, saying sternly to Miura Yumiko, who was also stunned by his anger: "Yumiko! Come here!"
Yumiko jerked and hurriedly followed Kanjuro to a corner of the living room. Seeing Kanjuro's tense profile and the lingering hostility in his eyes, she was terrified, but more than that, she felt unconditional obedience toward him.
"H-Husband..." she called softly, with a tone of appeasement and unease.
Kanjuro took a deep breath, seemingly suppressing his surging anger, but his gaze remained icy. He stared at Yumiko and said word for word: "Yumiko, you say you love me, right?"
Yumiko nodded vigorously without hesitation.
"Then," Kanjuro's voice carried an unquestionable pressure, "you must take responsibility for your best friend's foolish behavior. She has crossed my line, and I must make her pay the price. Do you understand?"
Yumiko looked at the familiar demonic obsession and coldness in Kanjuro's eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. She knew Kanjuro was serious, and she knew how terrifying he could be when angry. On one side was her best friend, and on the other was the man she deeply loved and could not disobey... Without much struggle, her bone-deep infatuation and dependence led her to make a choice.
She bit her lip, her voice trembling slightly but exceptionally clear: "I understand... Husband, tell me, what... what should I do?"
Kanjuro looked at the light in her eyes, a mix of fear and determination, and a cold, satisfied arc curled at the corner of his mouth. He leaned down and whispered in Yumiko's ear, his voice like a snake's hiss:
"It's simple. Take me to Ebina's house. Now, immediately." He paused and added, "Then, go buy a bundle of sturdy rope."
"R-Rope?" Yumiko's pupils contracted as she instantly understood what Kanjuro wanted to do, her face becoming even paler.
"Exactly." Kanjuro straightened up, looking darkly at Ebina Hina, who was shivering in the living room, still unaware of what was about to happen. His tone was calm yet hair-raising: "Since she loves 'binding' imaginary characters with a pen so much, then let her experience for herself the taste of being truly 'bound'."
Yumiko looked at Kanjuro's unquestionable gaze, then at her helpless best friend, and the last shred of hesitation in her heart was submerged by her fear of Kanjuro and her twisted love. She nodded vigorously and turned to run outside to carry out Kanjuro's command.
Kanjuro then slowly walked toward Ebina Hina, who was slumped on the floor in tears, as shadows gradually enveloped her.
"You like drawing BL, do you?" He knelt down, pinched Ebina's chin, and forced her to lift her tear-stained face. His voice was gentle, yet carried a bone-chilling coldness: "Don't worry, soon... you will experience something much more stimulating than your childish fantasies."
Ebina looked in terror at his handsome face so close to hers; there was no longer any of his usual gentleness in those eyes, only pure, desperate darkness. She was cold all over, unable even to make a sound as she cried.
A twisted punishment was about to quietly unfold at Ebina's home as night fell. And Yumiko, the girl deeply entangled in it, had already become Kanjuro's most loyal accomplice. The morning sun once again filled the campus of Sobu High School, as if all the darkness and distortion of the previous night had never happened.
Kanjuro still sat by the window, his posture relaxed, his handsome profile appearing as if gilded with a layer of holy light in the morning sun. Miura Yumiko sat not far from him, stealing glances at him from time to time, her eyes filled with an almost overflowing dependence and adoration. Occasionally, when their eyes met, she would lower her head with a blush, her lips curling into a sweet arc, as if the accomplice who helped Kanjuro carry out the punishment last night was just a phantom.
Even more surprising was Ebina Hina.
She still wore those glasses, but her entire aura had undergone an earth-shattering change. The sharp-eyed girl from before, with her fujoshi-specific cunning and calm, had disappeared, replaced by a nearly obsessive fervor, a fanaticism that seemed to come after being 'purified'.
During the break, she even took the initiative to stand in the center of the classroom, her voice clear and carrying an unquestionable determination:
"Everyone! I believe we must face a serious issue! Certain unhealthy trends are spreading on campus and even in society! The thoughts and behaviors that distort and fantasize about pure friendships between men into filthy relationships are absolutely wrong! They are pathological! We must resist them!"
Her words were forceful, her gaze sweeping across the class with a nearly missionary-like zeal.
"I propose that we should launch a movement on campus to oppose homosexuality and purify the school atmosphere! Let those unhealthy thoughts have nowhere to hide!"
As soon as these words were spoken, the whole class was in an uproar. Everyone knew Ebina Hina used to be a veteran 'fujoshi', more active than anyone in passing around BL doujinshi in private. How could she have changed into a different person overnight? This transformation was too abrupt and too extreme!
"Ebina... are you okay?" a girl who was on good terms with her asked cautiously.
"I have never been more sober than I am now!" Ebina pushed up her glasses, her eyes firm. "The old me was blinded by those low-level interests. Now, I see clearly what true 'love' and 'correctness' are!" As she said this, her gaze involuntarily drifted toward the quiet figure by the window—Kanjuro—with a hint of awe and an indescribable, complex emotion.
Kanjuro seemed to have no interest in her speech, still looking out the window, though the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch ever so slightly, too fast for anyone to catch.
This eerie scene was witnessed by Hachiman Hikigaya, who had just been discharged from the hospital and walked into the classroom leaning on a crutch.
He had been hit by a car while trying to push Yui Yuigahama out of the way at the start of the school year and had been hospitalized for nearly a month, only returning to school today. As soon as he entered the classroom, he felt this unusual atmosphere. Especially Ebina Hina's intense remarks, which completely contradicted her previous persona, and the eerie look she gave Kanjuro, made Hachiman's brow furrow tightly.
His gaze then fell upon Kanjuro by the window.
That man, just by sitting there quietly, seemed to be the center of the entire space, attracting everyone's attention. Handsome beyond mortal standards, with a gentle temperament that yet carried an indescribable sense of detachment. Miura Yumiko's undisguised obsession with him, the complex, painful, yet inescapable gaze Yui Yuigahama occasionally gave him, and now even Ebina Hina had undergone such a drastic, unnatural transformation because of him... (This man...)
In Hachiman Hikigaya's dead-fish eyes, which always carried a sense of weariness and seeing through everything, a sharp light flashed. His intuition, which Teacher Hiratsuka Shizuka had evaluated as'seeing things too clearly,' was frantically ringing alarm bells at this moment.
(Too unusual...)
(Yumiko's change, Yuigahama's abnormality, and now even Ebina... Everyone surrounding him seems to be influenced by him, distorted by him...)
(Under that gentle exterior hides something extremely dangerous.)
Hachiman Hikigaya felt a chill run up his spine. He instinctively wanted to stay away from the man named Kanjuro. He didn't want to get involved in any trouble, let alone have any connection with such a dangerous person who clearly radiated an abnormal aura. He just wanted to spend his high school life peacefully, continuing his lonely and safe observation.
He silently and as inconspicuously as possible moved to the furthest corner of the classroom, lowering his head to reduce his presence, making up his mind: No matter what, he had to stay away from Kanjuro, the further the better. This school, because of this man's presence, seemed to be turning into a dangerous vortex that he could not understand.
And at the center of the vortex, Kanjuro remained calmly looking out the window, as if everything was within his grasp. Ebina's 'awakening' and Hachiman's vigilance were but a few insignificant ripples in his long game. He enjoyed this feeling of controlling others' thoughts and distorting their will; it kept his eternal life from being too boring.
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