Morning light slipped gently through the curtains, glinting off a wall still dusted faintly with the week.
Weekend air was still—no bells, no campus chatter, just birds calling from the tree outside.
Kiryuu stood before the long mirror in the corner.
For the first time since his "awakening," he looked at himself with no intent but appraisal.
The body that had once been soft and sluggish was now built—balanced, clean lines.
Shoulders shaped by the summer grind; nothing excessive, but every plane spoke of work.
He drew a deep breath, let it fill his lungs, and exhaled slowly.
"Finally… a body that moves the way I want."
He pressed two fingers to his chest.
The steady rhythm under his skin reminded him that this body was wholly his now—no longer someone else's cage.
The old echo of Sougo Haruto—king of the streets—stirred in his mind, but this time without rancor.
"This world is soft… which means it's an opportunity."
He slid open the balcony door.
Cool morning air kissed his face.
In the distance, the Academy roofs flashed in the sun.
"A small place—loud enough."
He drank from a cold bottle, returned to his desk.
His notebook lay open: side-by-side comparisons between this world's education system and his original.
A margin note:
"Child-tier problems… systemic IQ low. Social evolution undercooked."
He raised an eyebrow, a sliver of a smile.
"No wonder I finished the exam in twenty minutes."
His phone buzzed softly.
MizunoAiri.
Airi: You home? I want to study again today.
Kiryuu stared at the screen, fingers hovering.
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he leaned back and watched the sky.
"She still thinks this kind of studying matters…"
After a beat, he typed:
Kiryuu: Come if you want.
No emoji, no flourish. Just plain words, like permission given without caring—
and yet the corner of his mouth lifted. Today wouldn't be as quiet as expected.
The Kizaki gate clicked open.
Airi stood outside with a small bag and neatly stacked notes—though her steps said "study" was not the main agenda.
She checked her reflection in her phone: hair loose and brushed, a subtle shine on her lips, and an outfit… not accidental.
A soft sweater in a pastel hue, snug at the waist and chest; a short skirt skimming just above her knees.
She inhaled, patted her cheeks.
"You're just here to study, Airi…"
"…even if your heart wants more."
The door opened.
Kiryuu appeared—bare-chested, only loose black training pants on.
A fine sheen of sweat on his shoulders, hair still damp: a workout just finished.
Airi froze.
"Oh… uh, am I—am I interrupting?"
His glance was brief, his tone even.
"No. Come in."
He turned away without waiting.
Airi swallowed, slipped inside, and closed the door.
The living room was simple, tidy.
Soap and morning air mingled with fresh coffee.
Kiryuu sank onto the sofa, taking a towel to his neck.
Kiryuu: "Drink?"
Airi: "Water's fine."
She sat across, opened her file.
Yet her disciplined gaze kept drifting—to chest, shoulders, the slow rise and fall of his breath.
Airi: "You're really diligent."
Kiryuu: "Who else would teach you if I didn't?"
Airi: "There are other teachers."
Kiryuu: "I'm not a teacher."
Airi: "You're the one I understand best."
He looked up.
She met it with a small smile, a spark in her eyes—half coy, half bold.
Sun pooled through the half-drawn curtains, laying warm gold across their skin.
The ceiling fan turned lazily; the room grew thick.
Kiryuu wrote on a practice sheet and slid it to her.
"Try this one."
Airi bent over it—fingers trembling.
The words blurred, not from difficulty but from drift.
She caught the clean scent of soap on his warm skin.
Kiryuu: "You okay?"
Airi: "Huh? Yeah… I'm okay."
Their eyes met—long enough that the world dimmed between them.
He leaned back, wiped his brow.
"Hot today."
"Yeah," she breathed. "Hot."
He stepped into the kitchen.
His easy, heavy-footed walk pulled her attention to each shifting line across his back.
She tried to write.
The pen stilled.
"He's not like other men…
There's no break in his confidence."
This time she didn't manage to pretend.
Their eyes held, neither of them looking away.
Time hovered in the space between their breaths, and the room felt too small, too warm.
The sun glared through the apartment window, baking the cheap vinyl floor. Kiryuu tossed his keys onto the counter with a clatter. "Air conditioner's busted again." He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
Airi fanned herself with a biology textbook. Her pastel sweater clung to damp skin.She shifted on the worn sofa, skirt riding higher on her thighs.
Kiryuu returned from the kitchen, condensation dripping from two cans. He handed one to Airi. "Drink first. Your face looks red."
"Because hot," she mumbled, cracking open the soda.
His thumb brushed her knuckle as she took the can. "Or I'm hot?" Kiryuu's gaze pinned her—dark, intent. Airi's breath hitched. The can slipped from her fingers, fizzy liquid spilling across her skirt.
Neither moved. Kiryuu watched the wet fabric turn translucent against her thigh. Airi's fingers trembled as she reached for his waistband. The button popped open. His shorts slid down thick thighs, revealing his hard cock pulsing against black fabric.
She sank to her knees between his legs. Her glossy lips parted. A hot, wet tongue traced his length through the underwear. Kiryuu gripped the sofa cushions, knuckles white. Airi peeled the elastic down slowly. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed. She moaned softly, taking him deep.
Her mouth worked him—sucking, swirling, hollowed cheeks pulling tight. Kiryuu's hips jerked involuntarily. Fingers tangled in her hair as she swallowed him deeper, throat muscles fluttering. Airi looked up through wet lashes, lips stretched slick around him.
She stood abruptly, skirt hitched high. Fingers hooked into lace panties. They slid down smooth legs. Airi straddled Kiryuu's lap in one fluid motion. Her wet heat hovered over his cock. Eyes locked, she lowered herself slowly—inch by burning inch—until he filled her completely.
Her hips rolled in lazy circles. Kiryuu gripped her waist, thumbs digging into soft flesh. Airi arched back, sweater riding up to expose flushed breasts. Her pace quickened—harder, deeper. She gasped sharply, thighs clamping around him as she came. Tremors shook her body.
Kiryuu flipped her onto all fours. Hardwood pressed against Airi's knees. He drove into her from behind, palm flat between her shoulder blades. Skin slapped wetly. Her moans pitched higher with each thrust. She glanced back—eyes glazed—as he plunged deeper.
He pulled her upright against the wall. One leg hooked over his arm. Airi clawed at peeling paint while he hammered into her. Sweat-slick bodies slid. Her breath came in ragged sobs. Kiryuu bit her shoulder—sharp, possessive—as her walls clenched tight around him.
They stumbled toward the low table. Kiryuu bent her over textbooks and scattered pens. Her palms flattened on cold laminate. He gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. Each thrust shoved the table legs screeching across the floor. Airi's moans dissolved into choked whimpers.
Collapsed on the rug, Kiryuu spooned against her back. Slow, deep strokes now. Airi shuddered. His hand slid between her thighs, fingers finding her swollen clit. She arched against him. "F-faster—" she gasped. Kiryuu laughed low, grinding deeper.
He flipped her onto his lap. Reverse cowgirl. Airi rode him wild—back arched, breasts bouncing. Her cries turned desperate. "Please—oh god—" Kiryuu gripped her hips, slamming up into her. Her body locked. He came hard inside her pulsing heat. Airi convulsed, trembling violently as he held her down on him.
She collapsed backward onto Kiryuu's chest, slick with sweat. Their breaths rasped in the heavy silence. He pulled a crumpled throw blanket over her bare shoulders. Airi traced idle circles on his sternum, fingertips drifting over the bite mark she'd left earlier.
"...Homework?" she mumbled into his collarbone, voice raw. Kiryuu grinned against her temple, hand sliding down to cup her ass. "You passed something else today." His thumb pressed between her cheeks teasingly. Airi shivered, pressing closer. His cock twitched against her thigh—already hardening again.
Airi's fingers trailed lower, nails scraping lightly through the sweat-damp hair below his navel. Her touch drifted inward, circling the base of his softening length.
Kiryuu hissed, hips arching off the rug. She smiled against his skin, breath warm. "Stillsensitive?" Her hand closed around him, slow, deliberate strokes coaxing him back to full hardness.
He flipped her onto her back abruptly, pinning her wrists above her head. The blanket slid away. Kiryuu's gaze raked over her flushed breasts, the slick shine between her thighs.
"Round two," he growled, sinking teeth into her neck. Airi gasped, legs wrapping around his waist as he thrust deep—no hesitation this time, just raw, claiming rhythm.
Her cries pitched higher, sharp and broken. Kiryuu drove into her relentlessly, fingers digging bruises into her hips. Airi's back arched off the floor, every muscle taut.
"Harder—" she begged, nails raking his shoulders. He obeyed, slamming into her wet heat until the room filled with the slap of skin and her shattered moans.
Sweat dripped from Kiryuu's jaw onto her collarbone. Airi clawed at the rug, vision blurring as pleasure coiled tighter. He pinned her wrists again, thrusts turning brutal, possessive. Her climax hit suddenly—a raw scream tearing loose as her body clenched around him, trembling uncontrollably.
Kiryuu followed seconds later. A guttural groan ripped from his throat as he buried himself deep, pulsing inside her. Airi gasped at the hot flood, hips jerking against his grip. He held her down, grinding slow circles until her tremors faded to weak shivers.
They lay tangled in silence, breathing harsh. Kiryuu's thumb brushed a tear from her cheek. Airi turned her face into his palm, lips brushing his calloused skin.
Outside, dusk painted the room in bruised purples. Kiryuu traced the bite marks on her thigh—dark blooms against pale skin. Her fingers found his, intertwining. No words. Just the slow rise and fall of their chests, sticky and spent.
Minutes later, the air eased back into place.
Airi reclined, face composed but eyes holding an unspoken shine.
Kiryuu sat at the table, arms folded.
Kiryuu: "You learned a lot today."
Airi (soft smile): "More than I expected."
She rose, straightened her skirt, took her bag.
"Thank you, Kiryuu."
"Get home safe."
"Will you… miss me?"
"If I have time."
Airi laughed—not because it was funny, but because it was so him.
Calm. Unreadable. The reason she couldn't stop thinking about him.
Late afternoon bled orange across the derelict lot behind an old mall—
a place senior delinquents used when they needed to "settle things."
Takizawa Ren stood at the center of nearly twenty upperclassmen—casual clothes, dyed hair, hands wrapped like athletes with other plans.
A small bruise still shadowed his cheekbone. His eyes were all blistered pride.
"He coming or not?"
"He'll show, bro. Kiryuu won't run," onelackey said.
"Good," Renmurmured. "I want to see him smile like he did that day."
He punted an empty can; metal rang across the vacant lot.
Crows scattered off the rusted fence.
Footsteps—heavy, measured—approached from the alley behind the warehouse.
Kiryuu emerged, black tee, dark denim, a sport jacket slung over his shoulder.
Hands in pockets, face quiet, like he'd come for a stroll, not a fight.
Ren: "You actually came."
Kiryuu: "You called. I don't like keeping people waiting."
Ren chuckled, sharp and mean.
"Think it's one-on-one again? The world isn't fair, Kiryuu."
"It never was. I never asked for mercy."
Ren dropped his cigarette and crushed the ember.
"Cocky for a first-year."
"Or you're too scared for a fourth-year."
They faced each other.
The air between them drew taut—two worlds colliding without a sound.
"Get him!" someone yelled.
Four charged.
Kiryuu didn't rush; he dipped under the first punch, cut with a right elbow—thud—and the boy snapped backward.
Two more closed in.
Kiryuu stepped through: left knee to the gut, turn, right kick to the chest.
Bodies folded to concrete.
"He's too fast!"
"Swarm him!"
Five more came together.
He slipped, countered—movements compact, exact.
No wasted flourish; strength delivered in clean lines.
He parried right, seized a collar, slammed a shoulder-line throw; the boy crashed into two others.
Under two minutes—seven were down.
Ren's teeth ground.
"You think you're invincible?!"
He rushed himself—straight punch toward Kiryuu's face.
Kiryuu caught the wrist, twisted—crack—a sharp protest of joint, not bone.
Ren hissed, and Kiryuu let go before it broke.
"You should've learned yesterday, Ren."
Ren staggered back, right hand trembling.
More bodies tried again, shouting.
Kiryuu glanced around, a thin smile—Sougo Haruto's smile, the one the old city feared.
"If you're all going down, I'll make it quick."
He flowed.
Low kick to a knee; left elbow to ribs; a rolling sequence that felt like water—each strike the next strike's beginning.
Sweat, breath, dust—
and then quiet.
Those who'd charged lay scattered—groaning, sitting, sprawled.
Ren sat on the asphalt clutching his wrist.
Kiryuu stood over him, only lightly winded.
His eyes were cool—not proud or angry, just… done.
Kiryuu: "This is the second time I've spared you."
Ren: "Trying to play hero?"
Kiryuu: "Showing you the difference between a man who learns from a fall and a man who never gets up."
He turned and walked away.
A wind kicked grit through the lot, veiling fallen boys in a small, unmerciful dusk.
"Who the hell is that kid…?" a lackey whispered.
Ren didn't answer.
He watched Kiryuu's back recede—and for the first time, real fear flickered in his eyes.
Sunday morning looked bright, though gray dragged in from the east—a weather that couldn't decide.
Kiryuu stood on the veranda in a rolled long-sleeve tee, dark jeans, scuffed Nikes.
Hands in pockets, gaze on the quiet road.
Phone buzz.
A name that brought out a small, unwilling smile.
SakuraMeiyuu: Morning, Kiryuu. Are you free today?
Kiryuu: Why?
Sakura: Want to show you something… only if you're willing.
He read it twice, then replied:
Kiryuu: Okay. Send location.
They met at a public park on the city edge—old fountain, stone paths leading to a sky deck the students jokingly called "The Cloud Restroom," tall as if perched on air.
Sakura waited under a tree—white tank, ripped denim shorts, slim gold heels.
Shoulder-length hair damp with humidity; a magazine page come alive—simple yet disarming.
Kiryuu: "You're early."
Sakura: "I couldn't wait."
They climbed side by side toward the tower.
Quiet path. Leaves, birds, their breath between them.
Kiryuu: "You come here often?"
Sakura: "Sometimes. When I want to run from people."
"Like today?"
"Like today."
She laughed—and rain exploded, sudden and heavy.
"Ah! Hurry!"
She grabbed his hand and they ran, spiraling up to the glassed shelter at the top.
Halfway, they were soaked—Sakura's clothes clung to her, hair dripping.
At the top they stopped, panting.
Rain drummed the glass in a muffled rhythm, drowning the world beyond.
Sakura turned, cheeks pink, a shy smile.
"Feels like a movie, doesn't it?"
Kiryuu didn't answer.
He simply looked—calm, but with a warm spark he didn't bother to hide.
Rain slicked Kiryuu's dark hair flat against his forehead as he took the spiral stairs two at a time.
His worn sneakers slapped wet echoes off the concrete walls, breaths coming in sharp bursts. Behind him, Sakura's golden heels clicked frantically, her laughter breathless and high as rainwater streamed down her neck.
Her white tank top clung like a second skin, gone nearly sheer where it stretched tight across her breasts.
Every gasp showed the hard outline of her nipples pressing against soaked fabric. Kiryuu glanced back once—just long enough to catch the flush spreading down her throat—before shoving open the tower's heavy door.
Inside the glass-walled shelter, the world muffled to a drumming haze. Sakura leaned against the fogged pane, chest heaving. Droplets trembled at the ends of her eyelashes.
Kiryuu watched one fall, tracing a path over her collarbone before vanishing beneath damp cotton.
"Feels like a movie," she whispered, knuckles white where she gripped her shorts.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Kiryuu closed the distance in three strides. The air thickened with the scent of wet denim and her skin—something sweet beneath the rain. When his thumb brushed her jaw, she shuddered.
Kiryuu's thumb traced the curve of Sakura's jaw, rainwater dripping from his fingertips onto her collarbone.
She tilted her face up, lips parting with a soft sigh that fogged the glass behind her. Their first kiss tasted like summer rain—hesitant, then deepening as Sakura's fingers tangled in his soaked shirt.
Her tongue brushed his, tentative and warm, drawing a low groan from his throat. Kiryuu's hands slid down her back, gripping the swell of her ass through thin denim shorts.
She gasped into his mouth, arching against him until the hard ridge of his cock pressed insistently against her belly through soaked jeans.
Sakura sank to her knees, golden heels splayed wide on the wet floor. Her trembling fingers fumbled with Kiryuu's zipper, freeing his thick cock into the humid air.
She stared, mesmerized—the vein pulsing along its length, the glistening bead at the tip. Leaning forward, she tentatively licked the salty-sweet drop, then took him deeper.
Her virgin mouth stretched around him, cheeks hollowing as she sucked with growing confidence. Kiryuu gripped her rain-slicked hair, hips jerking when her tongue swirled beneath the crown.
"Fuck," he rasped, watching her lashes flutter shut as she took him to the base.
He hauled her up, spinning her against the fogged glass wall. Rain lashed the tower as Kiryuu yanked her shorts down, fingers sliding through her dripping wetness.
Sakura cried out when his tongue found her clit—sharp, hot licks that made her knees buckle. "Please," she gasped, nails scraping concrete.
Kiryuu lifted her thigh, guiding his cock to her entrance. He pushed slowly, inch by excruciating inch, as Sakura whimpered into his shoulder.
A smear of blood mixed with rainwater on her inner thigh. "Move," she breathed, rocking back against him.
They found a brutal rhythm against the shuddering glass. Kiryuu slammed deeper with each thrust, Sakura's moans rising to match the downpour's roar.
Her fingers clawed at the pane, leaving streaks in the condensation. "Harder—god, *yes*," she sobbed, feeling him swell impossibly thicker inside her.
Kiryuu's hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams as his hips pistoned, driving them both toward the edge.
He flipped her onto the cold porcelain sink, her golden heels hooking over its edge. Sakura arched upward, meeting Kiryuu's plunging cock with desperate hunger.
Rainwater slicked their skin where their bodies slapped together. Her climax ripped through her first—a silent scream tearing from her throat as her cunt clenched like a fist around him.
Kiryuu growled, fingers digging bruises into her hips as he fucked her through the tremors.
Sakura scrambled onto him when he sat on the closed toilet lid, straddling his lap. Her thighs trembled as she rode him, grinding down to take him deeper with each rise and fall.
Kiryuu watched her breasts sway beneath the translucent tank top, sucking a taut nipple through damp fabric until she cried out again.
She came a second time with his name on her lips, head thrown back as her inner walls pulsed around his cock.
He stood abruptly, lifting her against the mirror. Sakura wrapped her legs around his waist as Kiryuu hammered into her from below.
Their reflection showed flushed skin, tangled hair, and wild eyes locked together. "Fill me," she begged, nails raking his back.
"Now—*please*." Kiryuu's thrusts turned jagged, hips stuttering as heat flooded her core. She felt every pulse, every twitch of his cock buried deep inside her, her own moans dissolving into whimpers against his rain-wet neck.
They collapsed against the sink's edge, breathing ragged. Kiryuu stayed sheathed within her, forehead pressed to her shoulder as aftershocks trembled through them both.
Sakura traced the sweat-streaked muscles of his back, feeling his heartbeat thud against her ribs. Rain drummed the glass walls—a steady rhythm now, softer than their gasps.
Kiryuu's thumb brushed the bite mark blooming on her collarbone. "Hurts?" he murmured. She shook her head, smiling drowsily. "Proof."
Still joined, Kiryuu carried her to the fogged window. Sakura pressed her palm against the cool glass, watching raindrops slide like tears through the condensation.
His arms tightened around her waist, cock stirring lazily inside her warmth. "The rain stopped," she whispered.
Kiryuu nipped her earlobe.
"Doesn't matter." His hand slid between her thighs, fingers finding her swollen clit. Sakura arched, gasping as fresh heat coiled low in her belly.
"Again?" she breathed. His chuckle vibrated against her spine.
"Just warming up."
He lowered her onto the damp tile floor, following her down. Kiryuu's mouth traced the path of rainwater down her stomach—tongue swirling her navel, teeth grazing her hipbone.
Sakura tangled her fingers in his dark hair as he parted her thighs. His breath ghosted over her sensitive flesh before his tongue dipped deep.
She cried out, hips lifting off the floor when he sucked her clit hard. Kiryuu pinned her down with a forearm across her pelvis, relentless as her thighs trembled.
Sakura's golden heels scraped tile when he flipped her onto hands and knees. Kiryuu mounted her from behind, cock sliding back into her slick heat with a groan.
He gripped her hips, thrusts slow and deep. "Watch," he rasped, angling her toward the streaked mirror. Sakura's eyes widened—seeing herself flushed and glistening, his hands possessive on her skin.
Kiryuu's thumb pressed against her clit in tight circles. "Come for me." Her moan shattered as pleasure ripped through her, cunt clenching around his thick length.
Collapsing sideways, they lay tangled on the wet floor. Kiryuu gathered her against his chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns on her hip. Sakura nuzzled his throat, tasting salt and rain.
"Still feels like a movie?" he murmured. She smiled against his skin.
"Better." Outside, the clouds broke—sunlight spilled across their damp limbs, warming the silence between heartbeats.
Kiryuu's lips brushed her temple. Sakura closed her eyes, listening to their breaths sync with the dripping gutter.
His palm slid down her belly, fingers dipping low. Sakura gasped as he circled her swollen clit—slow, teasing strokes that reignited the ache.
Kiryuu watched her eyelids flutter. "Tell me where," he commanded softly. Her hips arched into his touch.
"Everywhere." He pushed two fingers deep inside her still-quivering cunt, curling them against that sweet spot until her moans echoed off the tiles. Her thighs clamped around his wrist, riding the building pressure.
Sunlight glinted off Sakura's discarded heels as Kiryuu rolled her beneath him. He entered her in one smooth thrust, swallowing her cry with a kiss.
They moved slowly now—deep, grinding rolls of his hips that rubbed her clit with every stroke. Sakura clawed his back, whispering filthy praise against his mouth:
"So full... God, your cock..." Kiryuu groaned, biting her shoulder as her inner muscles pulsed around him. Sweat mingled with rainwater where their bodies fused.
Their climax built like thunder—inevitable, consuming. Kiryuu drove harder, his balls slapping her ass as Sakura's legs locked around his waist.
"Inside," she begged, nails scoring his spine.
"Fill me again." He buried himself to the hilt, cock pulsing hot jets deep in her womb. Sakura shattered with a sob, cunt milking him through wave after wave.
They clung together, trembling, as sunlight warmed the wet streaks on the glass.
When the rain tapered off, the air up there stayed warm and damp.
Sakura rested against Kiryuu's chest, hair clinging to her shoulder.
A half-smile, eyes half-closed.
"Rain's stopped."
"Yeah."
"But… I don't want to go down yet."
Kiryuu said nothing.
His hand rose, settling lightly on her head—not hunger, but a steady quiet that made the world slow.
Outside, the sky reopened.
Sun lanced through clouds, striking beads of water on the glass.
In that reflection, two shadows stood close—not just because of rain, but because of something they weren't yet ready to name.
Evening streets steamed after the shower.
Golden light ran across slick pavement, a soft mist clinging low.
They descended the tower—clothes still damp, hair half-dried by wind.
The smell of wet earth lingered.
Sakura hugged herself against the leftover chill.
"Wind's strong after rain."
They walked down the main road.
Cars hissed past; water flicked from tires.
Sakura kept close; their fingers hovered near each other, never quite touching.
"Thanks for today," she murmured.
"Don't. You invited me."
"If I hadn't, you wouldn't have come."
"Maybe but you sure you can walk?"
She dipped her head, smiling to herself.
Her hair fell like a curtain over half her face.
"I'm glad I asked."
They stopped at the fork where their routes split.
The rain had ended; the night chorus began.
Kiryuu: "Go on ahead."
Sakura: "You?"
"Gonna walk a bit."
"As always—you never sit still."
She laughed, stepped back two paces, then turned.
"Hey, Kiryuu?"
"Yeah?"
"Even though the rain stopped… it still feels like it's raining in my head."
She didn't wait for an answer.
Sakura walked away, her shadow stretching beneath the streetlamp.
Kiryuu stood still, eyes on the clearing sky, mind elsewhere.
That night he sat on his bed, staring at three messages:
Airi: You were really quiet today.
Hanabira: I still can't sleep after that night…
Sakura: Thanks for staying with me, even in the rain.
Three messages, three voices—
all in orbit around him.
He exhaled, killed the screen, stared up at the soft-lit ceiling.
"The rain's over," he murmured, "but it looks like the storm's just starting."