The night breeze carried the mineral scent of lake water and crushed grass as Sato Ruri reached toward Yūto Shō's waistband, her cheeks burning with residual embarrassment. Her fingers worked quickly to help him—and then froze.
Why... why is my hand wet?
The realization hit her like a thunderbolt from Pikachu's cheeks. A deep crimson flush crept up her neck, painting her face the color of ripe strawberries. She wanted desperately to yank her hand away and slap him, but footsteps crunched nearby—another couple wandering the darkened path.
If I pull back now, someone might see. If I don't...
She stood paralyzed, caught between mortification and the terror of public exposure.
"Hurry up," Yūto Shō hissed, genuine urgency in his voice. "Someone's coming."
I can't let him be seen like this. The thought surfaced before she could suppress it. Her fingers moved on autopilot, completing the task with trembling efficiency just as a young couple rounded the bend of the willow trees. Seeing figures in the shadows, they giggled nervously and redirected toward a more private stretch of shoreline.
Sato Ruri exhaled shakily. The wetness on her palms felt obscene, damning. She could smell it now—something sharp and organic mixing with the evening humidity. Her voice dropped to a furious whisper.
"You absolute hentai! Did you seriously just... pee out here in public? Have you completely lost your mind?!"
Even Yūto Shō—whose shamelessness could rival any shonen protagonist's plot armor—felt a twinge of awkwardness at the accusation. But there was no universe in which he'd sacrifice Kirei Ryu to clear his name. He manufactured a wounded expression instead.
"Hey, you're the one who wouldn't let me use the bathroom, remember? Some things can't be held indefinitely. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."
Sato Ruri's jaw dropped. Wait—what?
She replayed their earlier interaction. She'd told him not to follow her... because she was terrified he'd barge into the women's restroom and do something perverted. When had she ever forbidden him from using the men's room?
Either he genuinely misunderstood me, or he's spinning this to cover something even more degenerate. Honestly, knowing Yūto Shō, option two seemed far more likely. If it was the latter, she didn't even want to know. But if it was the former...
He thought I was worried about him... and he held it because of me?
An unfamiliar warmth flickered in her chest before she crushed it ruthlessly.
More pressing concerns demanded attention. Her hands felt disgusting—sticky-damp and contaminated. She needed tissues desperately, but reaching into her own pocket would mean transferring whatever this was onto her school uniform. The thought made her stomach turn.
While she stood frozen in her dilemma, Yūto Shō's hands landed on her waist.
Sato Ruri's spine went rigid. Here we go. Pervert mode activated—
But his palms merely traced along her hips, sliding with surprising restraint toward her skirt's hidden side pocket. He fished out her packet of tissues like he'd done it a thousand times before.
He knew exactly where I keep them. The observation sent a strange shiver down her vertebrae—not entirely unpleasant.
Yūto Shō extracted a tissue and began wiping her fingers with unexpected gentleness. Each stroke was careful, thorough—eliminating the evidence of his supposed crime while his thumb traced small circles against her palm.
"Nice pocket design," he remarked casually, nodding toward her uniform skirt. "Very discreet. You could probably stash some condoms in there and nobody would ever know."
"Who would ever put something like that in there?!" Sato Ruri sputtered, her brow furrowing. But somehow her voice came out lighter than intended—almost playful. She watched his hands work, cleaning each of her fingers individually, his touch unexpectedly tender.
This is... kind of sweet, actually.
The realization ambushed her. Here was Yūto Shō—certified menace, shameless deviant, the bane of her existence—carefully wiping her hands like she was something precious. Her lips curved upward before she could stop them, a small smile blooming despite her best efforts.
Maybe he's not completely beyond saving.
Yūto Shō glanced up and caught that smile—soft, unguarded, achingly pretty in the pale wash of moonlight. Something in his chest tightened. Before his brain could catch up with his body, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.
"Mmph—!" Sato Ruri jerked reflexively, her hands pushing against his chest. But the resistance melted within seconds. Her eyes fluttered closed, dark lashes trembling like butterfly wings against her flushed cheeks. She tasted like strawberry lip balm and nervous anticipation.
The kiss was... different.
No groping hands. No aggressive tongue forcing its way past her defenses. Just warmth and pressure and the faint trace of mint from whatever he'd been chewing earlier. For once, Yūto Shō behaved himself completely—and the normalcy of it left Sato Ruri absolutely wrecked.
Overhead, the moon hung fat and silver between wisps of cloud. Their shadows merged on the grass below—two silhouettes becoming one beneath the ancient banyan tree.
---
Behind that same tree, Kirei Ryu watched with her finger pressed between her teeth, biting down hard enough to leave marks. Something complicated churned in her chest.
After everything I did...
---
The kiss ended.
Sato Ruri's face burned fever-hot as she slumped against Yūto Shō's chest, her chin finding his shoulder, small mouth parted and panting softly. Her heart hammered so loud she was certain he could feel it through their pressed-together bodies. The night air tasted different now—charged with something electric and terrifying.
He didn't try anything weird. He just... kissed me.
Like a boyfriend would.
The thought made her want to crawl into a hole and never emerge.
"Did you like it?" Yūto Shō murmured against her hair, his voice dropping to that low register that always made her knees unreliable.
Sato Ruri bit her lower lip and refused to answer. But her silence spoke volumes, and they both knew it.
She's softening. Yūto Shō cataloged her reactions with growing satisfaction. All that aggressive pursuing tonight got me nowhere, but one gentle kiss and she's practically melting. The irony wasn't lost on him.
So the tsundere wants the dere after all. Noted.
If playing gentle was what it took to get her into bed, he could absolutely do gentle.
His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. She trembled slightly but didn't pull away—if anything, she pressed imperceptibly nearer, her face somehow getting even redder.
Emboldened, Yūto Shō let his hands drift lower, fingertips tracing idle patterns against her thigh through the pleated fabric of her skirt. His lips brushed her ear as he spoke, breath warm and intimate.
"Let's go home, okay? The mosquitoes out here are brutal. I don't want them biting you."
Sato Ruri's pulse skyrocketed. Between his low voice purring in her ear and the heat building low in her belly where his hands kept almost wandering, rational thought became increasingly difficult. Part of her wanted to say yes immediately—to let him lead her wherever he wanted, to chase this unfamiliar sweetness until she drowned in it.
But then she remembered what home meant. What he meant.
The tearing pain that still hadn't fully healed.
"I... I can't stay out too late," she managed, grasping for excuses. "My family will worry."
"Mmm." Yūto Shō's tactical gears spun. Plan B, then. "But you wanted to know my secrets, right? You were snooping through my phone earlier." His fingers continued their maddening, barely-there touches against her thigh. "Come over for a bit. I'll let you search my entire apartment—no restrictions. Won't take long, and then I'll walk you home myself."
The offer hit her weakness dead-center. Her investigative instincts warred against her survival instincts while the heat in her lower belly grew more insistent, making her unconsciously clench her core.
If I go to his place... I could learn so much more about who he really is.
Knowledge is power. And changing someone requires understanding them first.
Her brain short-circuited briefly. "You... you promise you're not lying?"
"I swear on my life."
The oath meant approximately nothing coming from Yūto Shō, but Sato Ruri's curiosity—and other, less noble impulses—had already tipped the scales. She'd spent tonight confirming he wouldn't actually use that video against her. The fear that once paralyzed her had dulled to mere wariness. Going to his apartment didn't seem quite so terrifying anymore.
Besides... they'd already crossed every physical line there was to cross. What was left to fear?
Just ten minutes. In and out. Learn what I can and leave.
"Fine," she said firmly, schooling her expression into something stern. "Ten minutes. That's it. And if you try to stop me from leaving, I'll never go anywhere with you again."
The threat was adorable. Yūto Shō bit back a grin, already calculating a dozen ways to make her want to stay.
"Then let's hurry—I just saw a mosquito land on your arm."
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet before she could second-guess herself, leading her out of the park with purposeful strides. Sato Ruri stumbled after him, heart racing with a cocktail of anxiety and anticipation she couldn't quite name.
Behind them, Kirei Ryu emerged from the shadows of the banyan tree. Her expression had gone cold, watching their retreating figures shrink into the darkness.
I gave him everything I had. Literally everything. Her jaw ached with phantom soreness. And he still chose to take HER home.
Frustration boiled briefly before she wrestled it down. A moment later, she raised her palm to her face, inhaling deeply.
Yūto Shō's scent still clung to her skin—musk and salt and something uniquely him.
Kirei Ryu smiled.
This isn't over.
---
[Yūto Shō's Apartment, 10:12 PM]
Sato Ruri stepped through the familiar doorway, and memories crashed over her like a rogue wave.
This is where it happened.
The living room looked exactly the same—sparse furniture, that leather couch, the hallway leading to his bedroom. The air carried traces of his cologne mixed with laundry detergent and something faintly masculine she couldn't identify. Her cheeks flamed as visceral recollections surfaced unbidden: her legs giving out beneath her, his hands everywhere, the obscene sounds she'd made when he—
Stop. STOP.
Her thighs pressed together unconsciously. The dull ache down there reminded her that she still hadn't fully recovered.
I need to stay focused. Find his secrets, then leave. Ten minutes maximum.
Yūto Shō released her hand and stepped back, spreading his arms wide with a showman's flourish. That irritatingly handsome smirk played across his lips.
"Welcome home. As promised—" He gestured expansively at the apartment. "Search anywhere you want. I'm an open book."
More like a very locked diary written in code, Sato Ruri thought darkly. But I'm going to crack it.