On the carousel. Nozomi gently wrapped his arms around Rita's waist, feeling the soft warmth of her body beneath the lazy sunlight. The scent of her floral shampoo drifted into his nose, a gentle tease to his senses. With a smile curving his lips, he leaned closer, silently enjoying this rare closeness.
Rita, cheeks tinted the shade of cherry blossoms, looked away awkwardly. Her heart thumped faster than the carousel's rhythm. It wasn't like this was their first intimate moment — after all, they'd shared a bed before — but that night didn't count! He hadn't tried anything that crossed the line. Still, now that they were out together at an amusement park… it felt very real. Very close. Very dangerous.
Nozomi's hands were well-behaved — mostly. But sitting right behind her, arms looped around her waist, the warmth of his body pressed into hers in a way that sent sparks down her spine. Her thoughts spiraled wildly.
"Adapt to it," he had said earlier, like the rogue he was. Adapt?! She huffed in her mind. Maybe what he needed was someone to confiscate the dangerous weapon he carried with such confidence — and not just the one in his hand.
In truth, Nozomi had been practicing. After the magical resonance between Fern and Frieren that night, his mana had surged, becoming more refined and potent. His control had sharpened too, making him an even more dangerous blend of charm and power. Good thing he was focusing on Rita today — if it had been Yukinoshita's second daughter again, who knew what might have happened?
Rita, of course, was stunning — her golden locks bouncing with every movement, her foreign beauty impossible to ignore. And as Mashiro's best friend, Nozomi couldn't deny a certain curiosity... and desire. But there were lines he wouldn't cross. Not now, anyway. He held her gently, letting the moment be just that — a shared warmth in the morning sun.
When the carousel came to a slow stop, Rita finally exhaled. The ride was over, and so was the subtle tension she'd been holding in her shoulders.
Their next adventure? The roller coaster. Screams and wind. Then, the haunted house. Shadows and thrills.
Rita clung to his arm like a lifeline in the haunted corridors. Her trembling act was almost convincing — too convincing. But Nozomi couldn't help but suspect she was overacting just to stay close. Not that he minded.
Cotton candy, ice cream, and heartbeats later, the sun began its slow descent. They strolled side by side, hands occasionally brushing, until finally returning home — Sakurasou.
As they stepped into the entryway, the atmosphere shifted. Mashiro stood there, puffing her cheeks in obvious displeasure.
"Nozomi… are you on Rita's side now?"
He chuckled and ruffled her silvery hair affectionately. "How could I ever betray Mashiro? I've always been on your side. But… Rita has something she wants to tell you."
Evening painted the sky in soft purples.
What Rita and Mashiro spoke about remained between them. Nozomi didn't pry. But the next day, the change was obvious. Rita's usual mask — that practiced smile — was gone. Replaced by something brighter. Genuine. Unburdened.
Nozomi smiled to himself. Maybe some things didn't need words.
After breakfast.
Sayu had surprisingly slept in, leaving Mahiru to handle the kitchen alone. With her golden hair tied in a tidy ponytail and her delicate neck exposed, Mahiru looked like a painting in motion as she washed dishes at the sink.
Unable to resist the temptation, Nozomi crept behind her like a ninja, arms sneaking around her slim waist.
"Geez… not again," Mahiru sighed, her voice a mix of exasperation and affection. She bumped the back of her head against his chest. "I'm trying to finish the dishes, Nozomi."
"Then finish them. I'll just be doing my part here," he whispered playfully, letting his hand rest on her hip. His teasing touch was light, but his smirk said otherwise.
"You're the worst," she mumbled, glancing back with an eye roll — then, suddenly, she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
"Be good, Nozomi. Go find Sayu, or senpai, or Mashiro. I've got chores to finish first."
Did she just tell him to behave? Like a kid? Unbelievable. Still… he could never say no to Mahiru when she spoke like that.
Nozomi puffed his cheeks, feeling a strange blend of amusement and defeat. "She really treats me like a kid sometimes… unbelievable."
Still, when an angel speaks, even a devil has to listen. He wrapped his arms around Mahiru once more, letting the warmth between them linger just a little longer. "Don't forget. Tonight… you're mine."
Mahiru's face turned a shade pinker, but she nodded, lips twitching in a shy smile. "…Mm."
With that settled, Nozomi finally peeled himself away from the kitchen and headed upstairs toward the third floor. Normally, by now, the whirl of mischief that was Kamiigusa Misaki would be bursting through doors, dragging him out of bed with her usual energy. But today was eerily quiet.
Nozomi knocked lightly and pushed open the door to her room. Inside, Misaki lay curled on her side, frowning in her sleep. Her expression was visibly disturbed.
[Ding! Resentment detected. Spirit Eye activated!]
A familiar, long-forgotten chime echoed in his ears. His eyes narrowed.
"Resentment…?"
With the Spirit Eye now active, Nozomi saw it—dark tendrils of shadowy aura swirling over Misaki's head. A cursed mark. The sign of a lingering, twisted spirit.
His blood simmered.
Who the hell dared leave this filth on his girl?
He gently nudged her awake. "Misaki-senpai?"
"Hnn… Nozomi-kun…?" Misaki blinked groggily, then instinctively opened her arms. "Hug me."
He didn't hesitate. Scooping her up into his lap, he held her close, brushing her bangs aside.
"Did something happen last night? A bad dream?"
Misaki rubbed her temple. "Not really a nightmare. Just… dizzy. I think I heard Jin's voice. Ugh, maybe I'm getting sick. I can't even think about animation like this."
Nozomi's gaze darkened.
Jin… Mitaka Jin? That scumbag playboy?
Could it be? After dying so disgracefully, the bastard came crawling back as a resentful spirit? To cling to Misaki even in death?
(What!!! When did he die? I can guarantee I didn't miss anything especially that important.)
Tch. Pathetic.
But Nozomi said nothing of his suspicions. Instead, he laid her gently back on the bed, whispering comforting words and feeding her a light breakfast. Afterward, he let her rest peacefully.
---timeskip till midnight--
Midnight approached.
As the clock struck twelve, something foul slithered through the cracks of the room—a curling black mist that twisted unnaturally until it formed a humanoid shape. Pale, distorted, and familiar.
It was Jin. Or what was left of him.
"Misaki… Misaki… I'm here…" the thing whispered with a perverse hunger.
A cold gust lifted the edge of Misaki's blanket.
"You're mine tonight…"
As the ghost reached out expectantly, lifting the blanket with ghostly anticipation—
"Yo."
A lazy voice rang out beneath the covers.
Jin froze.
Instead of Misaki's delicate body, the one staring back was Nozomi, eyes gleaming with the power of the Spirit Eye.
"I was wondering when you'd show up. Took your sweet time, huh?"
Jin's spectral face twisted, and his eyes turned blood red.
Nozomi. The one who stole Misaki from him. The one he loathed even in death.
"No one gave you permission to haunt her," Nozomi said, smirking.
"Rest in peace, Jin. Or don't. Either way, you're done here."
With a snap of his fingers, the Spirit Eye's exorcism spell ignited.
A pillar of searing white light pierced through Jin's twisted form.
"Nooo—!"
The echo of a tormented cry rang out—and then, silence.
Gone. Purged from this world.
But as the light faded, Nozomi saw flashes—fragments of Jin's last memories.
After leaving Sakurasou, Jin had descended deeper into vice. Gambling, womanizing—until he made the mistake of getting involved with a gangster's wife. The affair ended in blood and chains at the bottom of the sea.
And now, that worthless ghost had dared to come back for Misaki?
"Tch. Trash doesn't even know how to stay buried."
(Well, that clarifies things.)
As the cursed aura lifted, Misaki stirred. Her breath became steady, her frown replaced with a peaceful calm.
Her eyes fluttered open.
"Mm… Nozomi-kun, were you… taking care of me this whole time?"
Nozomi smiled softly, brushing her hair behind her ear.
"Of course. You're my precious Misaki-senpai. If you're sick, I'll be your nurse."
She blinked, then smiled—a smile brighter than the morning sun.
"Then let Misaki take care of you next!" she chirped, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him close.
"I love you the most, Nozomi-kun!"
She bit his shoulder playfully.
"Ah—ow! Hey, hey, love bites are supposed to be symbolic!"
"Ehehe~"
The room, once shadowed by resentment, now shimmered with warmth.
Misaki was safe.
And Nozomi was not about to let anyone—even ghosts—take his people from him.