The Jounan High School cafeteria buzzed with the unrestrained cacophony of lunchtime. It was a physical pressure, a wall of sound built from the clatter of trays, the scrape of chairs, and the overlapping tidal wave of a thousand teenage conversations. The air, thick with the comforting, greasy aroma of pork katsudon and fried croquettes, did nothing to soothe the frantic buzzing under Samantha's skin.
She stared down at her tray, at the perfectly cooked pork cutlet she had been so looking forward to. It now looked like a slab of styrofoam. Her appetite had been murdered, its corpse left to rot in the face of the ticking clock that lived only in her mind.
One hour, six minutes, and forty-two seconds.
The timer for the System's 'Social Sabotage' debuff was a guillotine, descending with merciless, silent precision. The thought of sprouting pustules and emanating an odor foul enough to curdle milk made her stomach clench into a tight, acidic knot. The kiss… maybe. It was awkward, boundary-crossing, and friendship-threatening, but perhaps survivable. The other one, however… the other one was a step into a void from which her relationship with Liza might never return.
"Sam-chan? Hellooo? Earth to Samantha?" Liza's voice, laced with her usual cheerful energy, was now tinged with genuine concern. "You're going to bore a hole in your katsudon with your eyeballs. You've barely touched it."
Samantha blinked, her focus snapping back to the present. Liza was peering at her, her head tilted, a piece of tempura shrimp halfway to her mouth.
She forced a smile. "Yeah, just… not that hungry, I guess."
Liza's eyes narrowed. The playful spark was gone, replaced by a sharp, probing intensity that always made Samantha feel transparent. "No. That's a lie. You've been acting weird since we left Tanaka-sensei's class. Your face is pale, you keep whispering to yourself, and now you're trying to telekinetically dissect your lunch. Seriously, what is going on?"
Samantha's mind was a frantic hamster on a wheel, desperately trying to find an escape route. Lie. Deflect. But her usual tactics felt flimsy against Liza's unwavering stare. She needed a plan. And in the face of mutually assured social destruction, only the most insane, reckless gambit would do.
An idea, wild and forged in the fires of pure desperation, sparked in the depths of her panic.
She took a deep breath, the air shuddering as it entered her lungs.
"Okay," Samantha said, her voice trembling slightly. The admission felt like stepping off a cliff. "Okay, I'll tell you. But… you have to promise, pinky-swear-on-your-entire-collection-of-shoujo-manga promise, that you won't get mad."
Liza blinked, taken aback by her sudden intensity. "Mad? Sam, what could you possibly do that would make me mad?"
Here goes nothing. "So… my cousin and I… we have this ongoing… stupid game. A super, super intense game of Truth or Dare we play online. And…" She swallowed, her throat suddenly as dry as desert sand. "And I got two really, really bad dares."
Liza's eyes widened with a flicker of excitement. Dares. This, she understood. This was familiar territory. "Ooh! Bad dares? Like what? Streaking through Shibuya Crossing?"
"Worse," Samantha said, her voice barely a whisper. She leaned forward, creating a small, conspiratorial bubble of privacy between them. "One of them… is that I have to kiss my best friend. On the cheek."
The effect was instantaneous. A delicate pink blush blossomed on Liza's cheeks, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. She stopped chewing. "O-Oh," she stammered, looking down at her tray. "Okay."
The first hurdle was cleared. Now for the second, the impossible one.
Samantha's heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. "And the other dare is… I have to…" The words caught in her throat. She forced them out. "I have to touch her… her chest."
The blush on Liza's face vanished, replaced by a pale shock. Her mouth opened, then closed. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, were fixed on Samantha's. The cafeteria noise seemed to fade into a distant hum.
"I know it's crazy!" Samantha rushed on, her words tumbling out in a torrent of panicked explanation. "It's totally insane and creepy and I don't want to make you uncomfortable at all! It's just… the penalty for chickening out is… it's so bad, Liza. So, so, so embarrassing."
"Embarrassing consequences?" Liza finally whispered, her voice a little shaky. "Like what?"
"Like… they'll post this awful video of me from middle school all over the internet! The one where I tried to sing and my voice cracked! Or… or I'll have to show up to school in a full-body chicken suit for a week!" Samantha blurted out, pulling the lie from thin air.
A tiny, choked giggle escaped Liza's lips. "A chicken suit… Okay, that actually does sound pretty horrible."
A fragile spark of hope ignited in Samantha's chest. "So… you're not… furious?"
Liza hesitated, chewing on her lower lip. Her gaze flickered down to Samantha's hands, then back up to her face. She was silent for a long, agonizing moment.
"No… I guess not," she finally said, her voice soft. "It's really weird, Sam-chan. But… it's just a stupid game, right?"
"The stupidest," Samantha agreed fervently.
Liza took a deep breath, and a flicker of her usual mischievousness returned to her eyes. "Well… I guess it's my duty as your best friend to save you from public humiliation and a life of poultry-themed fashion."
Samantha's heart leaped so violently she felt it in her throat. "Really? You mean it?"
"Yeah," Liza nodded slowly, then met her eyes. "But you have to make it quick. And absolutely no making it weird afterward, okay?"
"Not weird at all. I promise," Samantha exclaimed, a tidal wave of relief washing over her, so potent it made her dizzy.
"Execute the mission, Contractor! No hesitation!" Mochi's voice cheered in her head. "For great justice and a clear complexion!"
The deal was struck. The pieces were in place. And Samantha, now committed, felt a strange, cold calm descend upon her. The panic was gone, replaced by a singular, sharp focus. This wasn't about friendship anymore. This was about survival.
She leaned across the small table, her movements fluid and deliberate. Her hand came up, not hesitantly, but with a firm, confident motion, and cradled the side of Liza's face. Her thumb stroked gently along the delicate line of her jaw. Liza flinched at the touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Her skin was incredibly soft, radiating a warmth that felt like a low-grade fever. The faint, sweet scent of strawberry shampoo filled Samantha's senses.
Then, she pressed her lips to Liza's cheek. It wasn't a quick peck. She let her mouth linger, the pressure soft but unwavering, a brand of warm flesh against warm flesh. She felt the frantic pulse fluttering in Liza's neck, a hummingbird trapped in a cage of bone.
When she pulled back, Liza's eyes were wide and dazed, her face flushed a deep, beautiful crimson. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.
"The other one," Samantha murmured, her voice a low, husky thing she didn't recognize as her own. This wasn't the voice of Kisaragi Samantha, the sickly, quiet girl. This was the voice of the System's contractor.
Her hand, which was still holding Liza's face, slid down her neck, over her collarbone, and came to rest on the front of her uniform shirt, right over the swell of her breast. The cotton fabric was warm and slightly stiff with starch. Beneath it, she felt the soft, pliant weight. Liza let out another tiny, hitched breath, her back arching slightly, pressing herself more firmly into Samantha's hand.
Don't think. Just act. The System rewarded action.
Her fingers closed, gathering the fabric and the flesh beneath. Liza's heart was hammering like a drum solo, a frantic beat against her palm. Through the layers of cloth, her thumb found the nipple. It was already a hard, tight little nub. Samantha rolled it between her thumb and forefinger, gently at first, then with a deliberate, firm pressure that was anything but accidental.
A raw, broken sound tore itself from Liza's throat. "Ah…! S-Sam…" It was a whimper of pure, shocked sensation, a plea and an encouragement all at once. Her eyes fluttered shut, her long lashes dark against her flushed cheeks.
That sound, that tiny, helpless moan, shattered the last of Samantha's restraint. Adrenaline, a lust for the System's power, and a strange, unfamiliar darkness surged through her.
Her mouth crashed down on Liza's.
It wasn't a kiss; it was a conquest. There was no gentleness, no hesitation. Her lips were hard, demanding, forcing Liza's mouth open. Her tongue plunged inside, a hot, wet invasion. She tasted the lingering sweetness of the melon pan Liza had eaten earlier, but beneath it was the unique, electric taste of Liza herself.
For a split second, Liza was stiff with shock, a statue in her arms. Then, with a shuddering sigh that Samantha felt more than heard, she melted. Her body went pliant, her lips softening, her own tongue timidly meeting Samantha's. That small act of surrender was like gasoline on a fire.
Samantha devoured her. She deepened the kiss, her tongue tangling with Liza's, a slick, hot battle for dominance that Samantha was determined to win. Her other hand came up, burying itself in Liza's soft brown hair, tilting her head to get a better angle. She kissed her with the desperate, starving urgency of a creature that had been promised a reward, a taste of power, and would do anything to get it. Liza's moans were no longer broken whimpers; they were low, throaty things, swallowed by Samantha's own mouth, sounds of pure, overwhelmed pleasure.
When she finally pulled back, gasping for air, her lungs burning, they were both a wreck. Liza's face was flushed a violent shade of red, her lips swollen and glistening. Her eyes were dazed, unfocused. A single, shining silver thread of saliva connected their mouths, stretching for a moment before snapping.
PING!
PING!
The sound was a cannon blast in the sudden silence of her mind.
[Sub-Mission Complete: Kiss Your Best Friend on the Cheek]
[Sub-Mission Complete: Touch Your Best Friend's Chest]
[Rewards Acquired! Agility +2! Charm +2!]
A wave of pure, triumphant exhilaration washed through Samantha, so potent it was almost orgasmic. The aches in her muscles vanished, replaced by a light, humming energy. Her entire body felt sharper, more attuned, buzzing with newfound power.
She had done it.
"Y-You…" Liza whispered, her voice breathy and unrecognizable. "You did it…"
"I did," Samantha confirmed, her own voice steady, though her heart was still trying to pound its way out of her chest.
She watched as Liza slowly came back to herself. Her best friend. The girl she'd known since kindergarten. The girl whose mouth she had just plundered in the middle of the school cafeteria.
"You know, Sam-chan…" Liza started, her gaze locked on Samantha's lips. Her voice was still a little shaky, but a new, teasing light was beginning to dawn in her dazed eyes. "For someone who was so nervous about a little dare…"
She took a breath, and a small, stunned smile spread across her face.
"...you're a surprisingly good kisser."