"Shu, maybe you should just take a few days off from school," said Haruka Ouma, his adoptive mother, her face full of concern as she looked at the bruises on her son's face.
"A man can't back down at a time like this. Scars are proof of courage!" Shu's eyes blazed with determination. This was for Kurumi's sake—he couldn't afford to lose to a pack of jealous, love-deprived classmates.
By the time the weekend arrived, Shu's battered body finally had a chance to rest. For once, peace returned—at least briefly.
Inside the elegant restaurant of Kurumi's private residence, the atmosphere was calm. Kurumi sat gracefully, enjoying a meal that, while still imperfect, was at least edible. Over the past few days, Inori had been diligently learning how to cook, and her progress was remarkable. Her dishes were no longer inedible disasters.
Beep-beep. Kurumi's communicator chimed. She didn't bother to hide it from Inori, who sat across from her, and calmly opened the incoming message. The holographic image of Segai appeared.
"Lady Kurumi, we've received a report from a concerned citizen. The anti-GHQ resistance plans to hold a banquet tonight aboard a cruise ship. The commander has already ordered Colonel Danton to sink it."
Although GHQ had many officers ranked above Segai, Kurumi had chosen him as her liaison—because he was clever enough to understand her without needing explanations.
"?" Inori tilted her head in confusion. Why was a GHQ officer speaking to Kurumi with such deference—as though she were his superior?
Though the question lingered in her mind, Inori's attachment to Kurumi made her choose not to think about it. She only cared about Kurumi the person, not whatever mysterious position she held. So she simply watched in silence, unconcerned.
"Ah... the moment someone calls themselves 'good-hearted,' their intentions are already tainted," Kurumi said with a sly smile. So, the Funeral Parlor was short on funds and now had its eyes set on the Kuhouin Group's wealth.
That so-called 'concerned citizen' could only be Gai himself. He'd deliberately leaked the information, knowing GHQ would attack. He wanted to demonstrate that the Funeral Parlor could stand up to GHQ—using that strength as leverage in negotiations with the Kuhouin Group.
"Well, well. Didn't I say I owed Gai a little punishment? This looks like a perfect opportunity to have some fun."
Later that afternoon, in an upscale boutique, Kurumi hummed cheerfully as she tried on dress after dress, each one showcasing a different kind of charm. Her mood was bright and mischievous.
"Kurumi-chan, are you going out?" Inori asked, pouting slightly as she watched Kurumi get dressed. Seeing her dolled up so beautifully stirred a strange jealousy in her heart. Kurumi looks perfect already—why dress up for someone else?
"Yes, I'm attending a banquet tonight," Kurumi said, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. The girl in the glass smiled back—radiant, elegant, almost divine.
She wore a lavish pink-and-red gothic-style gown, its layers of lace flowing like petals. Her twin ponytails draped softly over her shoulders, perfectly complementing the dress. A small round hat perched upon her head, and a dainty folding fan rested in her hand.
Black stockings traced the shape of her legs, ending in high heels that added height and allure to her already striking figure. Kurumi looked every bit the refined young lady of high society.
"Today's Kurumi-chan is as charming as ever," she murmured to herself, gazing into the mirror. Her crimson eyes sparkled with pride as she smiled dreamily, almost like a lovestruck fool admiring her own beauty.
"Kurumi-chan!" Inori puffed her cheeks, glaring at her. Why did Kurumi have to look so pretty for a banquet? The word itself made her unreasonably upset.
"Thanks for waking me up earlier, Inori," Kurumi said, gently patting her head. "If you hadn't, I would've overslept and missed the banquet. I've been looking forward to it all day."
Inori stared at her in silence. If I'd known, I wouldn't have woken you up at all! Why was Kurumi so excited about some meaningless party? It's not like she was going on a date... right?
"Oh, that's right—Inori, would you like to come along? It'd be boring to go alone." Kurumi took Inori's hand, smiling sweetly.
Inori turned her head away in silent protest. A banquet? How annoying. No thanks! Kurumi shouldn't go either—it would just be boring anyway.
"Ah, but imagine this," Kurumi mused aloud, touching a finger to her cheek with mock thoughtfulness. "At a party like this, there will surely be lots of handsome boys inviting me to dance—to hold my hand, to touch my waist as we waltz across the floor..."
"I'm going!" Inori blurted out, her voice firm and loud.
Boys? Hands on Kurumi? Absolutely not. Dancing with Kurumi was her right—no one else's.
Holding Kurumi's hand... wrapping her arm around Kurumi's waist... yes, that was fine. Because only she was allowed to do that.
Inori's face suddenly turned crimson. Steam seemed to rise from the top of her head, and her pink eyes spun in a dizzy spiral. She looked ready to faint from embarrassment.
"Ah, as expected of my sweet little angel," Kurumi said, her wine-red eyes glimmering with amusement.
...
At the banquet, the men were all dressed sharply in suits and ties, projecting an air of refined success. The women, by contrast, wore elegant gowns—bare shoulders, exposed arms, and plunging necklines meant to show off grace and beauty.
But even among such dazzling outfits, one young woman stood out. She wasn't more covered up than the others, but her style felt completely different. She wore a short pink-and-red gothic dress trimmed with lace, paired with a small round hat and a folding fan.
Her silhouette blended modern elegance with a vintage charm that no one else had—but more than anything, it was her stunning beauty and captivating allure that made her stand out.
Kurumi easily became the star of the evening. One gentleman after another approached her with polite requests for a dance—but Kurumi ignored them all. From the moment she boarded the ship, her eyes had only been for one thing: the dessert table.
Every polite advance was met with a graceful smile and complete disinterest.
Rejected, the disheartened suitors turned their attention to Inori, who sat beside her. But one glance at the icy glare in Inori's eyes—filled with silent menace—was enough to send shivers down their spines. It was as if her gaze spelled out the same two words again and again: Go. Away.
And so they did. Every last one of them retreated in defeat, unwilling to challenge that terrifying, jealous aura.
Beep-beep... Inori's communicator buzzed. She glanced down—it was Tsugumi calling. With a small frown, she hung up. Not now. I'm busy keeping an eye on Kurumi. Too many people are trying to steal her away. Whatever it is, it can wait.
"Oh? Kurumi-san?" a pleasantly surprised voice called out. Arisa Kuhouin approached, dressed in an elegant off-shoulder gown. It was her first time attending such a lavish event, and she seemed slightly out of place. Seeing a familiar face made her visibly brighten.
"My, if it isn't the president. What a lovely coincidence," Kurumi said, smiling warmly. She had originally planned to teach Gai a lesson tonight, but upon seeing Arisa, her resolve hardened. A devoted fool like him deserves punishment—but not just for himself. How dare he toy with the feelings of someone so pure-hearted as her?
"I think so too," Arisa replied with a gracious smile. "It's such a relief to see someone I know here, Kurumi-san." Her refined manners radiated an air of cultured grace.
"Kurumi-san, why are you dressed like that?" Arisa asked curiously, eyeing the short pink-and-red gothic dress. "Everyone else is wearing formal evening gowns."
"Individuality," Kurumi answered simply, fanning herself with a small smile.
"But surely there's more to it than that," Arisa pressed, intrigued. "No one else would dare defy the dress code so boldly. Is there a special reason?"
Kurumi tilted her head, her tone suddenly serious. "If you must know, it's because Kurumi-chan's beauty deserves to be appreciated properly."
Arisa blinked in surprise. Kurumi's expression was perfectly composed—too composed. For once, she wasn't smiling.
"Kurumi-chan... actually calls herself that," Arisa thought aloud, half amused, half bewildered. "You're quite... self-confident, aren't you?"
"Mm-hmm!" Kurumi nodded proudly, chin tilted high.
Arisa sighed inwardly. That wasn't a compliment.
Beep-beep. Inori's communicator buzzed again. Seeing Kurumi deep in conversation with Arisa—and no unwanted men nearby—she quietly stepped out to answer it.
"Kurumi-san, are the rumors true?" Arisa asked, lowering her voice. "Everyone at school's been saying you're in love with Shu Ouma. Is it real?" Her curiosity burned bright; the gossip spirit within her had awakened.
Kurumi's smile softened. "Yes, I'm in love... but not with Shu." She clasped her hands together and covered her face, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.
"With who?!" Arisa leaned in, eyes sparkling. So the rumors were wrong? Then that poor boy being attacked every day... he's just an innocent victim!
"I'm in love with myself," Kurumi said dreamily, brushing her fingers along her cheek with a look of pure adoration.
Arisa froze. Her mouth fell open, her eyes wide with disbelief. She stared blankly for a long moment before finally managing to whisper, "...Oh."
Rest in peace, Shu Ouma.