The warm light of the mahjong room scattered over Kageyama Sora's handsome face. He rubbed the edge of his bone china cup, tilting his head toward Ryūmonen Tōka across the table: "By mahjong convention, in a four-player game, isn't a key player still missing?"
Ryūmonen Tōka's ahoge wiggled happily. She smiled: "Just wait a bit—"
Before she could finish, the carved wooden door creaked open, bringing in a breeze carrying the scent of wisteria and a cascade of clinking metal.
A girl in a maid outfit stood backlit, her golden-pink hair tips sparkling with each step.
Her black hair was tied into a neat short ponytail, a bright green satin bow fluttering in the warm breeze like it might take flight. Sapphire-like eyes reflected the soft room light, long thick lashes fluttering, a mischievous curve at the corner of her eyes.
"Sorry to keep you waiting!" she said, bouncing with a gust of wind, chains around her ankles scraping the floor.
When she lifted her hand, black chains around her wrist gleamed coldly, contrasting oddly yet attractively with the pink lace bows on her skirt.
She performed a playful curtsy, orange star stickers on her cheeks glinting, "First time meeting, I'm Kunihiro Ichi, Tōka-sama's most loyal maid!"
Kageyama Sora looked at the chains on her hands: "This outfit is certainly memorable."
Before he finished speaking, Kunihiro Ichi boldly lifted her skirt, chains drawing hard arcs in the light: "These are my medals! Tōka personally gave them to me!"
She blinked her sapphire eyes cheerfully, as if chatting about the weather.
As she took her seat, Kageyama Sora turned to Ryūmonen Tōka with genuine admiration: "You really know how to play."
Ryūmonen Tōka suddenly coughed violently, her ear tips tinged with red: "Don't listen to her nonsense!" She stirred her already-cold coffee anxiously, the spoon clinking against the cup.
Kageyama Sora knew the chains weren't some strange fetishes of Tōka's. He had already read the mahjong club members' profiles.
Kunihiro Ichi wore the chains because, in elementary school, she had been disqualified for cheating, abandoned mahjong until becoming Tōka's personal maid, and wore the chains to prevent cheating.
At that moment, Amakawa Ichi spoke perfectly in time: "Shall we start?"
"Of course."
The mahjong game began.
Kageyama Sora was surprised: everyone, including himself, could not complete a ready hand, nor could they claim tiles—no one could act.
The game entered a tense deadlock.
With two rounds left, Amakawa Ichi suddenly declared *riichi*, and with the final tile… fished the moon from the sea (*Kaitei-raigetsu*).
Tiles clattered crisply. She lightly pinched the last tile, lips pressing together as she revealed the winning tile: "Fishing the Moon from the Sea!"
Kageyama Sora's tile snapped down, stirring a dust mote into the air.
He looked at Amakawa Ichi, a faint smile forming, his long fingers giving a thumbs-up: "What a hand, fishing the moon from the sea!"
She lowered her head, hiding the surprise in her eyes. Hair swayed as she jerked her head up.
The warm chandelier light softened her porcelain face. In her amber eyes reflected Kageyama Sora's genuine admiration, as if for the first time, someone recognized her as a real mahjong opponent rather than the terrifying "Full Moon Ichi" or "Mahjong Queen."
Memories surged—countless past games where opponents either went pale or trembled in defeat at her *Kaitei-raigetsu*.
Those screams of fear, tears of despair, now overlapped with the smiling man in front of her, almost absurdly comical.
"Just the first round," Amakawa Ichi withdrew her gaze, her nails unconsciously tracing the tile's textured surface. "When you taste losing ten rounds in a row, you'll see—this isn't luck. It's pure skill."
She lifted the corners of her lips in a teasing smile. Her red bow swayed, mocking silently.
The game continued, the aroma of tea mingling with the thickening tension.
Amakawa Ichi's fingers danced over tiles; the deck whispered under her hands. *Kaitei-raigetsu* continued, each self-draw asserting her invincibility.
Kageyama Sora realized the inability to claim or discard earlier wasn't accidental—it was a pattern.
Amakawa Ichi always won on the final round, fishing the moon from the sea.
Steam from tea collided with the tense air, forming tiny droplets along cup walls.
Kageyama Sora unconsciously traced the tile backs, thirteen tiles like moths trapped in a spider's web, no combination escaping the deadlock.
Discarded tiles stacked like a growing tombstone, each "clack" echoing against taut nerves.
Amakawa Ichi's gaze rested on the pile, cherry blossom hairpins trembling with her gentle breaths.
With the last "sea-bottom tile," her fingertips glowed, phosphorescent as in deep water. Tiles flipped, metal and bone clacking sharply, piercing the darkness: "Fishing the Moon from the Sea."
She smiled, amber eyes reflecting light like moon on a hidden tide.
The air thickened, like deep-sea pressure.
Shuffling became distant, replaced by the pounding of hearts. Amakawa Ichi cast a cold light into the hopeless depths, crushing hope bit by bit.
After another *Kaitei-raigetsu*, she looked at Kageyama Sora: "Cousin, are you keeping up? Shall we continue!?"
Despite her petite, cute appearance, her words carried suffocating pressure.
Even Ryūmonen Tōka and Kunihiro Ichi fell silent, caught in the intensity.
But for the main target, Kageyama Sora, a faint smile appeared: "Of course, we continue… I've never seen such an interesting strategy. Ichi, are you really just an ordinary girl and not some… magical girl or something?"
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