How could this be...
In reality, there's actually someone with such incredible technique ... who can bring a woman to climax with just his fingers?
This guy is way too skilled!
Seiji also stepped out of the car, leisurely surveying the mansion that, despite lacking upkeep, still radiated traces of former grandeur. He mentally compared it to Eriri's villa.
Though it couldn't match Eriri's family estate with its massive garden and outdoor pool, it was still quite impressive.
Then, smiling, he walked over to Ryo Yamada, who remained frozen in shock, and in one smooth motion scooped her entire body into his arms amid her short gasp of surprise.
"Let's go, bassist. Time for our duet."
...
...
In the room.
He carried her straight in, didn't even pause to admire the space.
He dropped her onto the bed, and the mattress springs squeaked under how light she was.
"Undress," Seiji said, like he was telling an employee to clock in.
Ryo pushed herself up on shaky elbows. For a second she just stared, that flat, dead-fish gaze trying to hide the tremor in her fingers. Then she obeyed.
Blazer off. Tie loosened. She fumbled each button down her shirt, exposing pale collarbones, a narrow chest, the faint outline of unexpectedly heavy curves bound tight in a cheap bra. She shrugged the shirt off her shoulders, hands going automatically to the clasp.
"Slowly," he corrected.
She hesitated, then obeyed that too... turned slightly sideways, thumbs brushing the hook, and the bra slipped down her arms and fell. Her breasts dropped free, soft and full, nipples already stiff in the cool air.
He took his time looking. "You weren't lying about the product specs."
Her ears flushed red. "I told you. I'm... worth investing in."
"Skirt."
She stood, unzipped, let it slide down her thin hips, stepped out. White panties. Of course. They were completely soaked through, the fabric clinging obscenely to her slit, a dark wet patch spreading across the cotton from what he'd done to her in the car.
She realized he'd noticed when his mouth curved.
"Still dripping from the drive," he observed.
"Shut up," she muttered, ears burning.
"Sure," he humored her, and reached out.
His hand closed around her wrist and pulled, just enough to topple her forward onto her back. She landed with a soft "ah," breasts jiggling once, and he followed, one knee between her thighs, pinning her there without effort.
He kissed her, finally.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't cruel. It was invasive, thorough. She tried to keep still, but her legs closed instinctively around his thigh when he ground up against her... hard length pressing directly into the soaked cotton at her crotch.
She felt the size. Her fingers curled in the sheets.
"Seiji..." Just his name, caught between awe and calculation.
He pulled her panties down in one smooth motion. She squeezed her legs together on reflex; he pried them open again like it was nothing.
He looked her over: her exposed breasts, the wet sheen on her inner thighs, her pussy already flushed and slick from what he'd done to her in the car.
"What, inspection?" she said, dry.
"Yes," he answered, and settled between her thighs.
He palmed her knees, pushed them apart until she was open for him. Soft folds, flushed, glistening from the orgasm he'd already wrung out of her.
When he leaned in and kissed her inner thigh instead of going higher, her breath caught.
"Don't... " she started.
Too late.
His mouth found her.
His tongue slid through her slit, unhurried. He made a low sound, satisfied.
He tasted her again, slower.
"Fuck," she muttered, fingers tightening in the sheets.
He locked in.
One hand spread her lips, thumbs parting her; his tongue flicked her clit, light then harder, finding what made her twitch. When he found it, he stayed there. Short, precise strokes that made her hips jerk.
"Stop... analyzing," she gritted out.
He didn't. He sucked her clit into his mouth, tongue circling, and her hips jolted up.
"Thought you didn't do this," she managed.
"I do whatever has the best return," he said, voice muffled against her.
Then he committed.
He ate her like he had all night and a point to prove: tongue flattening and dragging up, dipping inside, then back to her clit in a rhythm she couldn't predict. No fumbling, no hesitation, just relentless focus.
Ryo clamped a forearm over her face, breathing harsh. Small whimpers leaked out anyway. "Nnh... ah..."
He didn't let her pull away; his hands locked around her thighs, thumbs digging in, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.
She broke faster than she wanted to.
Heat built low in her belly, pulled tighter with every stroke of his tongue, every suck. When he moaned against her like he actually liked the taste, she lost it.
"Shit... Seiji... "
Her warning dissolved into a choked cry as she came against his mouth, hips jerking, thighs trying and failing to close around his head. He held her open and rode it out, tongue still moving, drawing out every aftershock.
When she finally sagged back, blinking at the ceiling, he lifted his head.
His mouth was wet, his expression satisfied in that infuriatingly calm way.
"Baseline established," he said. "Now I fuck you."
She was still naked while he was fully dressed. She watched him undo his belt and push his pants down, still dazed from coming twice in less than an hour.
"That's... not going to fit," she said flatly.
"It will," he said. "You wanted a proper patron, right? Comes with benefits."
He lined the head up against her slit and she finally couldn't fake calm. Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into his shirt.
"Wait... "
He pushed.
Thick heat split her open. The head pushed through her entrance, stretching her, forcing a choked sound out of her throat.
"A... aaah... "
Pain shot up her spine, sharp and hot. She clamped down hard around him; he groaned at the pressure.
"Relax, Ryo."
"I... I can't... " Her voice broke. Her eyes stung. "Shit... "
He caught her chin, made her look at him, kept pushing. Inch by inch, her body tensing against him, his grip on her hip holding firm as he sank deeper.
Her back arched when he bottomed out, blue hair spilling on the sheet, teeth bared in a silent cry.
"Good girl," he murmured. "That's it. All the way."
She felt impossibly full. Like he was pressed against her womb.
He held there, buried to the base, letting her shudder around him.
Her fingers loosened on his shoulders. She was panting. "...this is still... just work."
"Then do your job." His hand slid to her thigh. "Wrap."
Confused, she obeyed: legs curling up around his waist, heels locking behind his back. It opened her even more. She realized too late what she'd just done.
Then he started moving.
The first strokes were shallow, testing. Wet sounds filled the room as he slid through her.
Her breath stuttered with every drag. "Nnh... "
He pulled almost out, then pushed in harder.
Plap.
The smack of their bodies meeting was sharp. Her eyes flew wide.
The next thrust was deeper. Harder.
Plap. Plap.
The rhythm built; her body jolted up the bed, head bumping the pillow each time. The stretch started to feel different. The pain dulled, replaced by heat that built every time he ground against that spot inside her.
He kissed her, deep and demanding. She kissed back without thinking, tasting herself on his tongue.
"Too much?" he asked against her mouth, not slowing.
She shook her head, words scrambled. "No... I can... take it..."
He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. His mouth found her breast, sucking hard on her nipple.
"Ah!" She gasped, back arching.
Plap plap plap plap.
The rhythm picked up, mixing with her gasps. Each thrust punched another sound out. "Nnh! Ah... ah..."
He leaned down, lips brushing her ear. "Hear that? That's your debt getting paid off."
"That's... not how interest works," she managed, then nearly bit her tongue when he slammed particularly deep.
He laughed and changed angle.
Now every stroke hit that one point inside. Her composure disintegrated.
"A-ah... ah... Seiji, wait... it's... "
"Too good?" His pace didn't falter.
Plap plap plap plap plap.
Her legs tightened around him. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, nipples hard and flushed. The friction on her clit, the relentless pounding, being pinned and used exactly how she offered... it all crashed together.
The bed creaked, headboard tapping the wall in time.
"Look at you," he said. "First time and you're squeezing like you're addicted."
"I'm... not... " She was. Her cunt clenched greedily on him every time he pulled back.
He felt it. Exploited it. Faster now, driving into her, using her narrow body.
Her thoughts shattered.
She'd meant to observe, to collect data. Instead she couldn't think. Just the slide, the stretch, his weight. Sweat and sex.
"D-don't... I'm... something... "
"Come," he ordered, hand leaving her wrists to grip her hip hard enough to bruise, dragging her onto him.
That last command, the rough pull, hitting that spot... she came.
Her back arched violently, a ragged cry torn out of her throat as she clamped around him, spasming. Her nails raked down his back. Her legs locked him in.
He fucked her through it, riding the tight, fluttering heat until he cursed under his breath and slammed deep.
Hot pulses filled her. Thick cum flooding deep. She felt every twitch.
He stayed buried a moment, breathing steadying, one hand splayed over her belly as if appreciating how full he'd left her.
She was trembling, eyes unfocused, sweat-damp bangs sticking to her forehead.
"...So?" he asked softly. "Still just a job?"
Ryo forced her gaze up to meet his, the ghost of a manic little smile tugging her lips.
"...I might have... negotiated too good a contract," she muttered.
When he finally pulled out, a hot, sticky trail leaked down her slit onto the blue sheets. She felt it, blushed, but didn't close her legs.
He watched it spread.
"Don't move," he said. "We're not done. I want to see how long that sensible little brain of yours lasts."
And before the ache even settled, he dragged her to the edge of the bed, flipped her over, and lined up again.
He didn't let her rest.
The second she started to sag, boneless and dazed, Seiji hooked an arm under her hips and dragged her to the edge of the bed.
"Get on your knees."
Her thighs wobbled when she tried. He flipped her effortlessly, palms on her waist, putting her on all fours facing the wall. Blue hair fell over her face; the sheets under her were a mess of sweat and cum.
"Spread your legs."
She obeyed, slowly spreading her knees wider. The wet squelch when she moved made her freeze.
Seiji looked down at the slick mess between her legs and made a pleased sound. He gripped her ass, thumbs parting her, and pushed in again.
She gasped, higher and raw. The path was already open, but she was still too tight; he had to work his way back to full depth, and every centimeter made her arms shake.
"Sensitive," he noted. "Good."
Once he was buried to the hilt, he didn't bother with gentle.
PLAP.
His hips slammed into her ass, sending a shock up her spine. The pace was immediately rough. Sharp, fast thrusts that rocked her entire body, her small frame jerking forward on the bed.
Plap plap plap plap plap.
Wet, squelching sounds mixed with the rhythm of their skin clapping together. "Schlick-schlick-schlick."
"Ah... ! Wa... " She grabbed the sheets, fingers clawing, head hanging.
From this angle, every thrust ground deep into that same spot; she was already loosening from the last orgasm, and her body betrayed her faster.
"You hear that?" he asked, voice calm while he railed her. "You're dripping down your own thighs."
"S-shut up..." It came out half a whine.
He laughed once and snapped his hips harder.
PLAP PLAP PLAP.
She yelped, a raw, startled sound. His hands clamped on her waist, using her like a handle, dragging her back onto him in perfect counter-thrusts so the impact clapped even louder.
Her knees slid on the sheet; she was barely holding the position. Every push knocked a broken little sound out of her. "Nnh...! Ah...! Fuck...!"
He leaned over her, one hand sliding up her spine to the back of her neck, forcing her arch to deepen. The angle let him go even deeper.
"Look at the wall," he murmured. "Remember this view. This is what you sold yourself for."
She stared at the blank wall, eyes glassy. Heat coiled in her gut, tighter with every brutal stroke.
Plap plap plap plap plap plap.
He fucked her right through the soreness, into that edge where pain and pleasure blurred. When she finally broke again, it was sudden: her whole body locking, pussy spasming hard around him.
She came with a hoarse, desperate cry, back bowing under his hand.
He didn't stop.
Plap plap plap plap plap.
He rode her out, ignored the overstimulated twitch of her muscles, using the extra tightness to chase his own peak, rutting into her until he buried himself deep and spilled inside her a second time. Thick, hot, flooding her already full core.
By the time he pulled out, she collapsed flat on the bed, ass still raised just enough that white cum oozed out and slid down her inner thighs.
"Don't sleep," he said, amused. "Tour's not over."
He hauled her up again.
She staggered when her feet hit the floor, legs jelly. He steadied her with a hand on her hip, steering her naked through the hallway.
The hallway was dim; the house smelled faintly of dust and old money. If anyone looked through a window right now, they'd see everything: her bare ass, the smear of his cum on her legs, her marked-up neck.
Her heart stuttered. The shame mixed with something else. A thrill.
Living room next.
He pushed her down onto the leather sofa. The cushions squeaked under her weight.
"On your back."
She lay down. He spread her knees, stepped between them. No prelude: he lined up, thrust in, and her head snapped back against the armrest.
"Ah...!"
Here, he took his time.
Slow at first, deep strokes, letting her feel every drag along her sensitized walls.
Wet sounds filled the space. Schlick, schlick, schlick.
Her breasts bounced with each thrust; her breath came in short, hitched pulls.
He leaned down, capturing one nipple in his mouth. His tongue circled the hard peak while he fucked her. She gasped, fingers tangling in his hair.
He glanced at the half-open curtains. "You like that anyone walking past could see you getting used in your own living room?"
She bit down on a moan. "...No..."
He answered with a sharper snap of his hips.
Plap.
She choked.
"Liar."
He adjusted his angle, folded her legs up toward her chest, pinning her in a compact position that opened her completely and let him slam in as deep as he wanted.
Plap plap plap plap.
Now the pace picked up. Each impact drove a helpless sound out of her. "Nnh... ah... ah...!"
She had no leverage, no balance. Just trapped under him, taken.
Her eyes rolled when he nailed that spot repeatedly. She clawed at his forearms, at the sofa.
This one was shorter. He was already primed from using her.
She came without warning, a strangled squeal, cunt clamping, body shaking. He fucked right through it and pulled out at the last second, stroking once. Thick ropes shot across her stomach, her breasts, marking pale skin.
She flinched at each hot stripe. He watched them drip, satisfied.
"Kitchen," he said.
She should tell him no. Her mind supplied a list: exhaustion, soreness, dignity, risk.
Instead, she followed.
The kitchen was cold, marble counters spotless.
He turned her, lifted, and sat her bare ass on the counter. The chill stone against her abused skin made her gasp, back arching, nipples tightening.
His hands slid up her thighs, spread them lazily.
"You're shaking," he noted.
"I'm not... used to this much cardio," she deadpanned, voice frayed.
"Adaptability's important in any job."
He dragged her closer to the edge; his cock was already hard again, smeared with their combined mess.
This time, he didn't bother with slow.
He yanked her hips forward and slammed into her in one brutal stroke.
"... fuck!"
It ripped out of her before she could stop it.
The angle from the counter was vicious: every thrust pistoned straight into her deepest spot.
PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP.
The slap of his hips against her thighs echoed off tile and steel.
Her hands scrambled uselessly on the cold surface, knocking into an empty glass that tipped and clattered.
The sound barely registered under the relentless rhythm.
He locked an arm around her lower back, hauling her into him so the impact was full, punishing. Her toes curled, heels drumming on the cabinet doors.
"You're going to remember this counter every time you walk in here," he told her. "That's where you begged for money with your cunt."
"I didn't... ah... beg... "
PLAP PLAP PLAP.
He drove into her harder for the lie.
She broke into panting, half-formed noises, head tipping back, throat exposed. Sweat beaded on her collarbones; his fingers pressed into her hips hard enough to bruise.
Plap plap plap plap plap plap.
She was gone beyond thinking. Just sensation and his voice and this brutal pace.
His hand cupped her breast, thumb rubbing her nipple. The added stimulation pushed her over.
When she started to come, it was silent: her mouth open, no sound, eyes wide as her body clamped down with desperate spasms.
He didn't slow, fucking her straight through into shaking overstimulation until another orgasm crashed over her on top of the first. Double, messy, broken.
Her nails raked his shoulders; she finally sobbed out a sound that might be a plea.
That's where he finished: buried deep, spilling into her for the third time, filling her.
She clung to him, trembling.
The cold marble under her ass, the sweat between them, the thick leak of cum when he slid out.
In the steam-filled bathroom later, she finally grasped what "out-of-body experience" referred to.
...
...
When the storm finally subsided, Ryo Yamada lay sprawled on the living room carpet like a fish washed ashore, utterly limp, unable to move even a single finger.
She stared at the ceiling, gasping for air, a single thought flashing through her mind.
This time... I might have actually gotten a bargain?
This man wasn't just handsome and wealthy, gentle without being rough ... his technique far exceeded human standards, and his repertoire was endlessly inventive.
Selling herself to him didn't seem like a loss at all.
Just as she was lost in these scattered thoughts, a crisp phone ringtone pierced the air.
Her phone.
Ryo Yamada forced her aching body upright and found her phone on the sofa.
On the screen: "Ijichi Nijika."
Ryo Yamada's eyes immediately lit up like she'd discovered a new world. Clutching her phone, she stumbled toward the kitchen.
Seiji was currently wearing an apron, humming a tune as he retrieved ingredients from the fridge, preparing a lavish "post-battle dinner."
His stamina was monstrous.
That earlier session hadn't even consumed a third of his energy.
Pat pat pat!
Ryo Yamada hurried in. "Seiji!"
Hearing her voice, Seiji looked up questioningly. "What is it?"
"Look at this!"
Ryo Yamada showed him her phone screen, her face lit with indescribable excitement.
"It's Nijika!" she explained rapidly. "My best friend! She must be really worried about me, that's why she's calling!"
"So?" Seiji grew even more confused.
Your friend is calling ... why are you running to me so excitedly about it?
Then he saw Ryo Yamada's smile grow brighter and... more sinister.
"Seiji," she said, eyes gleaming, "this is a perfect opportunity!"
"The classic phone call scenario from doujinshi ... I've been wanting to try it forever!"
Seiji: "???"
Once again, he was left completely dumbfounded by this girl's peculiar thought process.
This Ryo Yamada... does she seem even kinkier than me?!
Before Seiji could react, Ryo Yamada had already pressed the answer button and enabled speakerphone.
"Hello? Ryo? You finally picked up! Are you okay?!"
From the other end came Nijika's voice, filled with anxiety and concern.
Seiji immediately shot Ryo Yamada a look that said "go ahead, show me what you've got."
Ryo Yamada's lips curved into an arc as she silently apologized to her friend on the other end.
Sorry, Nijika.
But I really don't want to miss an opportunity like this!
"I'm fine."
Ryo Yamada responded in her usual cool tone while simultaneously slipping off Seiji's oversized shirt.
The girl's perfect body, still flushed with a lingering rosy glow from being recently satisfied, was once again exposed to the air.
She planted both hands on the counter, leaning forward slightly, positioning herself in an extremely alluring pose ... one perfectly convenient for the person behind her to "explore."
The cool sensation against her chest made her body jerk violently, a short involuntary gasp escaping her throat.
"Nnh!"
That soft sound immediately caught Nijika's attention on the other end.
"Ryo? What's wrong? What was that sound?" Nijika's voice instantly turned tense.
"Ah... n-nothing." Ryo Yamada hurriedly steadied herself, answering in her habitually flat tone. "I just accidentally stubbed my toe on the table leg. It hurt a little."
"Huh? Be more careful when you walk! Seriously, you're still so clumsy." Nijika sighed in relief and began complaining.
Just then, Ryo felt warm hands wrap around her waist from behind.
Seiji positioned himself behind her.
His chest pressed against her back, breath hot on her ear.
Ryo trembled.
With her eyes, she signaled: Please begin.
Seiji smiled, satisfied by her eagerness.
His hands slid up her sides, cupping her breasts. He squeezed, thumbs rubbing over her nipples until they stiffened.
"...So where have you been these past few days? Why didn't you come to practice, and you even took time off from your part-time job?" Nijika's voice continued on the phone.
"Um... I've just been... handling some... personal matters..." Ryo's voice carried a faint tremor. One of his hands had slid down her stomach, between her legs, fingers finding her clit and rubbing slow circles.
She bit down on her lip.
His other hand stayed on her breast, pinching her nipple.
"Personal matters? What kind of personal matters? Don't scare me, Ryo!" Nijika sounded worried. "I keep feeling like something's off with you. Your voice... why does it sound shaky?"
Two fingers pushed inside her. She was still slick from earlier, and they slid in easily.
"Do I?" Ryo bit down hard on her lower lip, trying to control her breathing. "It might be... because I ate some... weird-tasting grass for dinner... my stomach's a bit uncomfortable..."
"What?! You ate grass again?!" Nijika let out a shocked cry.
"I've told you so many times not to eat random weeds from the roadside!"
His fingers curled inside her, finding that spot. He pumped them slowly, deliberately, thumb still working her clit.
Wet sounds. Quiet but obscene.
"Mmnh... !"
A suppressed moan escaped her throat.
Her legs weakened. She could barely stand, only managing to support herself on the counter with her arms.
"Ryo?! What's wrong now?! Are you really okay?!" Nijika's voice filled with panic.
His fingers pumped faster. Harder. The wet squelch got louder.
"I'm... I'm fine..." Ryo's voice became fragmented and breathless. "That grass... the taste... was really... too... too strong..."
Seiji watched her struggle to maintain the conversation. He decided to raise the difficulty.
He pulled his fingers out. She heard the sound of his zipper.
Then the head of his cock pressed against her entrance from behind.
He pushed in.
"Ah...!"
She couldn't stop the gasp.
He sank in slowly, filling her, stretching her. The angle from behind felt deeper than before.
When he bottomed out, he held there.
"Ah... mm..."
Ryo could no longer form complete sentences, only producing gasps and broken sounds.
"Ryo! What on earth are you doing?! Why do I keep hearing weird noises on your end?!" Nijika sounded on the verge of tears.
He started to move. Slow, deep thrusts.
Plap. Plap. Plap.
"It's... it's the wind... the window... isn't closed properly..."
Ryo barely managed to offer the excuse.
His pace picked up. Harder now, faster, the slap of his hips against her ass mixing with the wet sounds of her pussy.
Plap plap plap plap.
Her arms shook. She could barely hold herself up on the counter.
"Nnh... ah..."
"Anyway! You HAVE to come to school tomorrow! I need to see with my own eyes that you're okay!" Nijika commanded.
"Okay... okay..."
Plap plap plap plap plap.
He fucked her harder, each thrust driving her forward, breasts pressing into the cold counter.
"That's it then! I'm hanging up!"
The call finally ended.
The instant the conversation disconnected, Ryo's entire resolve crumbled.
PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP.
Seiji pounded into her, no longer holding back. His hand reached around, finding her clit, rubbing tight circles.
"Fuck...! Seiji...!"
She came hard, cunt clamping around him, legs giving out. He held her up by the hips, fucking her through it until he buried himself deep and came, spilling hot inside her.
Then her legs gave out completely, and she collapsed bonelessly into his arms.
"Hah... hah... hah..."
She gasped heavily, her body still trembling uncontrollably in small aftershocks, her mind utterly blank, all capacity for thought completely lost.
Seiji caught her securely and remarked with admiration, "Ryo, you're really too good at this. I'm definitely never going to run out of entertainment."
No need to wait for later.
Ryo had only just caught her breath when her extraordinarily unique thought process kicked back into high gear.
A brilliant idea struck!
She suddenly twisted around, and under Seiji's astonished gaze, scrambled up, then dropped to her knees in front of him.
His cock was still half-hard, glistening with their combined fluids.
Without hesitation, she leaned in and took him into her mouth.
Seiji raised an eyebrow, watching her with interest.
Oh? Dessert too?
Her tongue worked along his length, tasting herself mixed with his cum. She sucked, bobbed her head, one hand wrapping around the base to stroke what didn't fit in her mouth.
He started to harden again almost immediately.
"Fuck," he muttered, hand finding her blue hair.
However, Ryo's next move completely exceeded his expectations.
She kept sucking while simultaneously freeing one hand to grab her dropped phone, unlocking it and opening selfie mode with practiced ease.
Adjusting the angle...
On that face still flushed and dazed, lips wrapped around his cock, she deliberately forced out a subtle expression of humiliation and reluctance, as if she were being coerced.
Then she pressed the shutter!
A perfectly composed, story-filled photo was born!
In the picture: only her face wearing that humiliated expression, mouth visibly stretched around his thick shaft, along with a partial view of his cock disappearing between her lips—enough to prove exactly what she was doing.
The entire image radiated intense taboo appeal and visual impact, guaranteed to make anyone who saw it let their imagination run wild!
After completing all this, Ryo Yamada didn't even pause. She directly opened Line, found the conversation with [Ijichi Nijika], and sent the photo!
"Holy shit!"
This time Seiji was genuinely shocked. He stared in utter amazement and couldn't help asking, "Are you insane?! Aren't you afraid something will go wrong?"
But Ryo Yamada shot him a confident, everything-under-control look, placed her index finger against her lips in a "shh" gesture, then fixed her eyes intently on the phone screen.
...
...
Shimokitazawa.
"Is Ryo really okay?"
Nijika set down her phone restlessly, planning to go to the practice room to drum for a while to dispel her troubled mood.
Just then.
Ding-dong~
Her phone notification chimed.
She picked it up and saw it was a Line message from Ryo.
Nijika's heart leaped, thinking Ryo was finally going to explain properly. She hurriedly opened the app.
However, the instant she opened the conversation...
[Ryo has retracted a message]
A system notification appeared on the screen.
"Huh?"
Nijika froze.
What was retracted had been a photo.
She'd only managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of the retracted photo's rough outline.
It seemed to be... a selfie of Ryo?
Ryo's expression had looked somewhat off ... kind of wronged?
Or unwilling?
And... the photo's background seemed to have something weird, flesh-colored, and completely incomprehensible...
What was that?
Nijika felt inexplicably uneasy, her subconscious warning her that it had been a very disturbing photo.
She furrowed her brow tightly, her fingers flying across the screen: [Ryo! What did you just send?! Are you okay?!]
The instant her message sent successfully, Ryo Yamada's reply came almost immediately.
[Sent by mistake. I'm fine.]
Simple. Cold. Exactly her usual style.
But the unease in Nijika's heart rippled outward like a stone thrown into a lake, unable to settle.
...
Setagaya Ward, Yamada residence.
Seiji stared dumbfounded at Ryo Yamada's entire operation.
Almost within the fraction of a second that the message was marked "read," Ryo Yamada decisively pressed the "retract" button!
That hand speed ... she'd be wasted if she didn't go pro in esports!
After completing everything, Ryo Yamada looked like she'd won an epic battle, her face radiating triumph. She even playfully flashed Seiji a victory sign.
"Mission accomplished!" she said proudly. "I know Nijika way too well. At this time, she's definitely worrying about me with her phone glued to her hand. The timing was just right ... she saw just enough to get suspicious without seeing the full picture and causing a real disaster."
Seiji: "..."
What could he even say?
All he could do was silently observe three seconds of mourning in his heart for the innocent girl named Ijichi Nijika.
At the same time, he also realized...
This kind of thing is actually really thrilling!
He looked at the eccentric girl in front of him who'd just pulled off an "extreme operation" and now wore an expression of excitement and satisfaction. The joy of having brought her into his fold became unprecedentedly intense.
For my and Ryo's happiness, sorry about this, Nijika.
Seiji apologized silently in his mind.
Because this was so stimulating, he planned to actively collaborate with Ryo Yamada in tormenting Nijika from now on.
If it's Nijika's mom, she'd definitely forgive us, right!
...
...
Shimokitazawa.
"Achoo!"
Nijika suddenly sneezed, rubbing her nose in confusion and muttering to herself, "Weird, why do I suddenly feel a chill down my back?"
"Did I catch a cold?"
The girl carefully checked her condition but found no signs of illness.
Eventually deciding it was just her imagination, she put the matter out of her mind.
...
...
...