Seeing Hozuki Nozomi enter the studio, still holding Eriri Spencer Sawamura's visibly flushed hand, Aoyama Nanami felt a peculiar, fleeting pang in her chest—a quick, sharp twist she couldn't quite name. She pushed it aside almost immediately, expertly redirecting her focus back to the script in her hands. Her voice, clear and emotive, filled the room once more as she resumed her recording session.
Kamiigusa Misaki, seated at her animation station, merely glanced up and offered a slight, knowing nod before returning to her meticulous debugging work. The atmosphere settled into one of concentrated productivity. Hozuki Nozomi, sensing the shift, finally released Eriri's hand, giving her a gentle nudge toward her drawing tablet. The group seamlessly transitioned into their respective creative zones.
Some time later, their collaborative session drew to a close. Hozuki Nozomi escorted Eriri Spencer Sawamura out of Sakura Dormitory. Letting her walk home alone was out of the question, of course. He would see her safely to her door.
The walk was conducted in near silence. Eriri kept her gaze fixed ahead, her thoughts a turbulent sea she refused to voice. Hozuki Nozomi, for his part, didn't press. Today, he had laid his cards on the table regarding his feelings for her. He was certain she'd registered the message. There was no need to rush. He would give her space to process, to let the initial storm of emotion settle before navigating the next steps.
They arrived at the elegant entrance to her home, the door to her personal 'princess room' just beyond. Eriri Spencer Sawamura turned to face him, her lips parting as if to speak, only to close them again, a conflict of emotions playing across her delicate features.
Hozuki Nozomi merely offered a soft, understanding smile and a casual wave. "Go on inside. I'm well aware you 'despise' me and have no desire for me to cross your family's threshold."
Eriri's cheeks puffed out in a silent pout. She opened her mouth once more, but no sound emerged. If she were to confess that she didn't actually despise him—that his presence made her heart do strange, frantic somersaults—wouldn't that just inflate his already monumental ego to catastrophic proportions?
With a quiet, internal sigh, she watched him turn and begin to walk away, his back receding into the evening shadows.
Just as she turned to grasp her own door handle, a pair of strong arms suddenly encircled her waist from behind, pulling her into a firm, warm embrace.
"Eek!"
"Shhh. No screaming. If Sister Sayuri sees us like this, I'll likely find myself 'invited' to stay in your room as a permanent guest," Hozuki Nozomi murmured, his voice a low, amused rumble by her ear. He lowered his head, pressing a light kiss to the sensitive curve of her earlobe.
Eriri's entire body stiffened, then trembled. Her hands flew to the arms locked around her, not to push him away, but to press down on them, as if to ground herself. Her face burned. "Y-You pervert… what do you think you're doing now?"
"I'm not 'thinking' anything," he replied, his tone disarmingly honest. "I just felt that leaving like that was too abrupt, too much of a loss. And your silhouette against the evening light… it's too perfect. I was utterly slain by the sight of Eriri's retreating figure. Hugging you was a purely unconscious, reflexive response."
"P-Pervert…!" she managed, the word lacking its usual heat.
"Yes, yes. This pervert is going to hold you for just a moment longer." He smiled against her hair, then placed one last, chaste kiss on her cheek before his arms relaxed and he stepped back. "Goodnight, Eriri."
This time, he truly turned and walked away, disappearing into the gathering dusk without a backward glance.
Eriri Spencer Sawamura stood frozen for a second before scrambling inside, shutting the door with a soft click, and then fleeing to the sanctuary of her room. She threw herself face-first onto her plush bed, burying a scream into her pillow.
"Ahhhhhhh!"
"That detestable, shameless, thick-skinned, incorrigible pervert!"
She lifted her head from the pillow. Her brilliant blue eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, her vision slightly blurred. A frustrated, confused whimper escaped her.
"Why… why do you have to tease me like this…? I hate it… I really hate it…"
… … …
Of course, Hozuki Nozomi was acutely aware of his own roguish behavior. His treatment of Eriri Spencer Sawamura bordered on, if not fully embodied, outright delinquency. But the crucial fact remained: she didn't seem truly, fundamentally resistant. Her protests were perfunctory, her anger fleeting. Besides, he hadn't crossed any irrevocable lines—merely skirting the edges, taking calculated advantage of the tension between them.
Returning to the warm, familiar light of Sakura Dormitory, his gaze found Yukino Yukinoshita, who was still seated serenely, methodically feeding her cat. A wave of profound tenderness washed over him, softening his expression.
After a shared, peaceful dinner, and after Yukino had finished her bath, she sat nervously on the edge of her bed, wrapped in a soft robe, her long, damp hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of night silk.
"Yukino, let me dry your hair for you."
"…Okay."
Faced with the gentle proposal from the man who had quietly entered her room, she found she couldn't muster any refusal at all.
So, Hozuki Nozomi guided Yukino to sit before the vanity. He picked up the hairdryer, set it to a warm, gentle setting, and began to carefully dry her silken tresses, his fingers combing through the strands with a touch that was both efficient and reverent.
Once her hair was flawlessly dry and fragrant, his gaze inevitably grew warmer, more intent. He was just about to lean in, to claim the intimacy the evening promised, when the door swung open.
Shiina Mashiro padded in, her movements as silent and fluid as a cat's. Without a word of greeting or explanation, she walked directly to him and simply settled herself onto his lap.
"Hozuki Nozomi. Hair."
Her own hair was damp, clinging to her neck and shoulders. Her sleepwear was, as usual, haphazardly fastened, revealing glimpses of snow-white, flawless skin that was undeniably alluring.
Hozuki Nozomi blinked, then smiled. He shot an apologetic, somewhat helpless glance toward Yukino Yukinoshita before switching the hairdryer back on, turning his attention to the ethereal girl now claiming his lap as her throne.
Yukino Yukinoshita, still sitting on the edge of the bed, allowed a faint, almost imperceptible pout to touch her lips. But she did not protest. She had already accepted Mahiru and Sayu into their unique constellation. One more, especially a pet-like, utterly guileless existence like Shiina Mashiro, hardly seemed to tip the scales.
However.
A while later, with Mashiro's hair now perfectly dry, the artist made no move to leave. Instead, she simply nestled more comfortably into the cradle of Hozuki Nozomi's arms, her eyes drifting shut.
"Sleep here," she stated, her voice a soft, final decree. She had decided, and that was that.
Yukino Yukinoshita, feeling a flush of mingled embarrassment and something akin to being politely sidelined in her own room, made to rise and retreat with what dignity she could muster.
A pale hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist with surprising firmness.
"Let's sleep together tonight. Yukino. Okay?"
Shiina Mashiro stared up at her, her wide, crystalline eyes holding a gaze so direct and guileless it was impossible to interpret as anything but pure, simple desire for company. Defeated utterly by the sheer, unadulterated cuteness and baffling honesty of the request, Yukino Yukinoshita found herself nodding before she could formulate a refusal. "…Very well."
Hozuki Nozomi, sensing the delicate equilibrium of the situation, resolved to be a statue of impeccable restraint for the night—a benevolent, unmoving mountain between two forces of nature.
He did not account for the inherent curiosity of an artist.
In the deep quiet of the night, Shiina Mashiro's slender, questing fingers began a silent, exploratory investigation. It was less a seduction and more a tactile mapping, a study of form and reaction. It was, in a word, naughty.
This warranted a lesson. A quiet, thorough, and hands-on educational session ensued.
And since one student had been so diligently tutored, it seemed only fair to include the other who was, despite her soft, even breaths, very much not asleep. Gently, he drew a flustered, wide-eyed Yukino Yukinoshita into the curriculum as well.
…
The next morning arrived with soft light. Yuki Suo, having risen early with determined purpose, decided to craft a special 'love bento' for Hozuki Nozomi. To ensure its timely delivery, she dispatched her most reliable agent: the Little Maid, Ayano Kimishima.
Ayano pushed the bedroom door open with her customary, silent efficiency. The scene that greeted her paused her for a half-second. Her master was not alone. The space beside him was already occupied—and quite thoroughly.
A tiny, almost invisible pout formed on her lips. "Truly a heartbreaker of a master," she murmured under her breath, the words a soft exhale of resigned observation. Without further comment, she slipped into the room and commenced her primary duty: the Daily Wake-Up Service.
Hozuki Nozomi's eyes fluttered open at the familiar, gentle presence. His gaze focused on the little maid kneeling beside the bed, her expression a perfect mask of professional serenity, though a faint blush colored the apples of her cheeks. A wave of fondness washed over him. He reached out, his hand coming to rest gently on her head, giving it a soft, affectionate pat.
(Yes. our King Nozomi receives a daily blowjob as a wake-up call)
…
"Good morning, Master Nozomi. It is time to arise."
Ayano Kimishima's voice was a model of placid formality, though the slight, deliberate wetting of her lips betrayed a hint of nervous anticipation. She delivered her line with the grave seriousness of a royal pronouncement.
Hozuki Nozomi could only release a soft, happy sigh. This girl is impossibly adorable. In moments like these, surrounded by such unique and captivating individuals, he felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. To always live within this intricate, warm chaos would be a form of paradise.
Yukino Yukinoshita and Shiina Mashiro had, in fact, been awake for some time. Their initial reaction to the little maid's 'service' was a flicker of mild, shared annoyance. This little maid is boldly stealing a march on us right under our noses.
But then, rationality reasserted itself. She was Yuki Suo's attendant, acting on her mistress's orders. More importantly, Yukino could feel the steady, anchoring warmth of Hozuki Nozomi's affection for her, a constant amidst the delightful tumult. Being so securely loved, she found, left little room for petty jealousy.
…
After the morning's gentle upheaval, Yuki Suo presented Hozuki Nozomi with a carefully wrapped bento box as if bestowing a national treasure. "This… is a bento made with the utmost sincerity of a sister's heart. You must accept it properly and enjoy it!" she declared, her cheeks pink.
Hozuki Nozomi accepted the offering with the gravity it deserved. He would never refuse a gift from Yuki.
It is worth noting that during breakfast, he endured a prolonged, pointed glare from Aoyama Nanami. The voice actress had been in the middle of tending to Mashiro's hair the previous evening when her charge had vanished, only to be discovered the next morning having shared a bed.
Nanami's emotions regarding Hozuki Nozomi's ever-expanding circle of intimacy were… complex, to say the least. She released a deep, world-weary sigh that seemed to hold the weight of a thousand romantic subplots.
The journey to school on the train provided the next tableau. Hozuki Nozomi suddenly felt a sharp, precise pressure on his foot.
It was a slender, elegant foot, sheathed in sheer black stockings.
Its owner was Sakurajima Mai.
"Kohai-kun," she stated, her voice a low, melodious murmur laced with theatrical disappointment. "Your playboy tendencies seem to be escalating."
"I must concur with that assessment," Yukino Yukinoshita added coolly, applying her own, dainty foot to his other shoe.
Inspired by the collaborative reprimand, Shiina Mahiru and Ogiwara Sayu subconsciously raised their own feet, poised to join the chorus of disapproval. Sanshokuin Sumireko mirrored the action.
However, when Mahiru met Hozuki Nozomi's gaze—a look of such open, gentle affection—her resolve instantly crumbled. With a happy, almost triumphant smile, she defected from the punitive coalition. She opened her arms and threw herself against his side, wrapping them tightly around his waist in a clear, affectionate hug.
This act of blatant treachery made Yukino and Mai purse their lips in unison. Yet, Yukino did not intervene. She held the title of 'fiancée,' a privileged position Mahiru did not occupy. To begrudge Mahiru this small, physical comfort would be, Yukino reasoned, both ungrateful and unfair. She had already secured the greatest advantage.
Sakurajima Mai huffed softly, removing her foot. Then, in a move of pure, competitive one-upmanship, she looped her arm through his, snuggling possessively against his side.
Not to be outdone, and with cheeks now dusted pink, Yukino Yukinoshita claimed his other arm, mirroring Mai's posture.
Thus, the 'King of Normies' found himself standing in the middle of the commuter train carriage, a stunning beauty clinging to each arm, a third wrapped around his waist, and several more casting looks of varying affection and exasperation from nearby.
The collective gaze of every other male passenger in the vicinity was a mixture of awe, searing envy, and barely concealed homicidal intent. Just who does this guy think he is?!
Several boys from Soubu High School in the same carriage stared, their jaws slightly slack. They recognized the scene's centerpiece. Isn't that the legendary 'Succubus' of the school rumors? A wave of profound, soul-crushing envy washed over them. Damn it… so that's what winning at life looks like.
Sanshokuin Sumireko, Ogiwara Sayu, and Nichiji Sumire, finding no available limbs to claim, settled for a unified, deeply resentful glance in Hozuki Nozomi's direction before huddling together, whispering and giggling amongst themselves.
Hozuki Nozomi was, admittedly, experiencing a certain masculine pride. Yet, a pragmatic part of his mind whispered that his notoriety was about to reach stratospheric new heights.
And Sakurajima Mai and Yukino Yukinoshita, from their positions on either side of him, exchanged a fleeting, knowing glance, the corners of their mouths curving upward in subtle, synchronized smiles.
This public display served a dual purpose. It was a warning flare to any other girls who might be considering approaching him: Look at this hopeless, incorrigible playboy. See how crowded it already is.
And yet, it was also a quiet, shared indulgence. Who didn't, in their secret heart, wish to show off their beloved? By tacit, unspoken agreement, they had decided to allow Hozuki Nozomi to experience, just this once, the full, glorious, and slightly perilous treatment befitting a true King of Normies.