I open my eyes slowly, with that soft, warm feeling of having slept better than I have in years. The midday light filters through the gaps in the blinds, drawing golden stripes across the wall, and the silence in the room is so perfect I can almost hear my own heart beating slow and steady. I can't remember the last time I slept so deeply, without nightmares, without waking up every hour with my stomach knotted from fear. I smile without meaning to—relieved, happy—as if all the weight I've been carrying vanished overnight.
And then the memories hit me.
All at once.
The sofa. His hands. His mouth. His body inside mine. The moans. The kisses. The pleasure that coursed through me like fire, making me forget everything bad, making me feel clean for the first time in months.
I blush furiously.
My face burns, my heart flips, and I look down.
And I realize.
I'm lying on Reiji's chest.
My head resting right over his heart, his arm around my waist, his steady, deep breathing against my hair. I'm wearing one of his old T-shirts, too big, reaching mid-thigh. And nothing else.
I blush even harder, if that's possible.
I try to get up carefully, slowly, so I don't wake him.
I place one hand on the bed, the other on his chest, and lift myself inch by inch.
But when my feet touch the floor…
my legs give out.
A sweet, deep ache between my thighs makes me wobble.
I nearly fall.
I brace myself against the wall, breathing hard.
And the memories hit harder.
How he took me. How he filled me. How he made me scream his name until I lost my voice.
I cover my face with my hands, red to the tips of my ears.
Oh my God, what have I done!
I pull off Reiji's T-shirt with trembling hands, search for my underwear (which I find crumpled on the floor), and get dressed as fast as I can.
I find a sheet of paper and a pen on the nightstand.
I write in shaky handwriting:
"I borrowed one of your T-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. Sorry. Thank you for everything. —Reika"
I leave it on the pillow beside his head.
I look at him one more second.
He's asleep, hair messy, face relaxed, lips slightly parted.
And I feel like I could stay here forever.
But no.
I can't.
Because I betrayed Hoshino.
Because I gave in to my selfish desires.
Because I broke the trust of the only true friend I've ever had.
I push those thoughts away hard, as if they physically hurt.
I open the apartment door carefully.
And then…
the smell of vanilla hits me.
I look down.
Hoshino.
There, in the doorway, with a radiant smile, eyes shining, a bakery bag in her hand.
Wearing a pink hoodie with cat ears, pleated skirt, white tights.
Innocent.
Happy.
"Reika-chan? What are you doing at Reiji-senpai's place so early?"
I freeze.
The air leaves my lungs.
I can't speak.
I can't breathe.
I just stare at her.
And feel the world crashing down on me again.
Hoshino enters without a second's hesitation, with that cheerful, light energy she always carries, as if the world couldn't touch her. She hugs me tightly, her small arms wrapping around my waist, her head resting on my chest, the vanilla scent of her shampoo filling everything.
"Reika-chan! Good morning! I brought dorayaki for everyone!" she says in a sing-song voice, happy, innocent.
I return the hug automatically, my arms wrapping around her timidly, but inside I feel a deep, corrosive disgust toward myself. My hands tremble slightly against her back. How can I hug her after what I did last night? How can I look her in the face knowing I slept with Reiji, that I moaned his name, that I let him touch me in ways I'd never allowed anyone before? I feel dirty again. Traitorous. Selfish.
And then I hear his voice behind me.
"Good morning, Mizuki."
Reiji.
That deep, calm voice that makes me tremble inside.
Hoshino pulls away from me instantly, lets out a happy giggle, and runs to him.
"Reiji-senpai! You're awake!"
She throws herself into his arms, as always, curling up against his chest.
I stand there, paralyzed.
I can't move.
Shame crushes me, burns my cheeks, closes my throat.
I can't look at them.
I can't bear to see her hugging him, him stroking her hair with the tenderness he showed me last night.
And then…
I see it.
Reiji pulls a phone from his pocket.
Haruto's phone.
He shows it to Hoshino.
And starts talking.
My heart stops.
I begin to hyperventilate.
Air won't reach my lungs.
Tears sting my eyes.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
I wait for the blow.
I wait for the scream.
I wait for Hoshino to hate me.
To insult me.
To call me a traitor.
A slut.
To say I don't deserve her friendship or Reiji.
But instead of a blow…
I feel arms around me.
Hoshino hugs me again.
Hard.
Strong.
"Reika-chan… It's all okay now… It's over… Later we'll go to the police… We'll report Haruto… For all the harm he did to you… For the photos… For the threats… For everything…"
I freeze.
Relief.
Immense relief floods me.
But then…
she keeps talking, voice soft, compassionate, flushed.
"And… and about last night… I don't mind. Really. Reiji and I talked yesterday afternoon… When we were at my parents' house… I told him everything… And we talked. A lot. I told him that… that you love him too. That you've felt something for him for a long time. That you felt bad about it. That you didn't want to betray me."
My eyes fill with tears.
I can't speak.
I just tremble in her arms.
"And I… I told him I didn't mind. That if he makes you happy… I'm happy too. That I don't want you to suffer anymore. That… that we both love you. And that… maybe… maybe we can share him. If he wants. If you want."
Reiji, from behind, sighs.
"We talked seriously," he says, voice calm. "When I left Mizuki's parents' house… I needed to think. Take a walk. And I found you. You, Reika. In the park. With Haruto. And… everything happened."
Hoshino hugs me tighter.
Her cheeks are red, eyes shining.
"I don't hate you, Reika-chan. I never could. You're my friend. My best friend. And… if Reiji makes you happy… I want you to be happy."
Tears fall uncontrollably.
I hug her back.
Hard.
For the first time in so long…
I don't feel alone.
I don't feel dirty.
I don't feel like a traitor.
I just feel…
loved.
By the two people who matter most to me in the world.
...
...
I'm sitting on the living room floor, back against the sofa, legs stretched out, Luna curled into a warm, purring ball on my thighs. The kittens are playing around, chasing a crumpled paper ball Hoshino made a while ago, and the morning sun streams through the window, painting golden squares on the rug. In front of me, Reika sits cross-legged, head bowed, cheeks still flushed from everything that's happened. Hoshino is beside her, pampering her like a little sister: gently stroking her hair, running fingers down her back, whispering things in her ear that make Reika smile shyly and blush even more. A small smile creeps onto my lips without me meaning it to. This is… strange. But it's also… good.
The goddess, of course, doesn't miss the chance. "Look at that! Half your harem already in your living room! The perfect president crying in the dandere's lap! And you in the middle like the king of the castle! All we need is Akira and Natsuki walking through the door with red bows and the set's complete!"
"Shut up," I reply mentally, voice tired. "This doesn't make sense. I feel… uncomfortable. A polyamorous relationship… it's weird. I don't know how to handle this. I don't know if I'm hurting someone. I don't know if I'm the idiot who thinks he can have it all."
The goddess lets out a low, seductive laugh, as if she's lying beside me. "Oh, my poor baby… Uncomfortable? You? The guy who fucked the president until she lost her voice last night and today has the dandere pampering her like a kitten? Relax! In my day, on Olympus, this was everyday stuff. Zeus had Hera, Europa, Leda… and nobody complained… well, Hera did, but that was part of the charm. Aphrodite slept with Ares, Adonis, half the pantheon… and everyone was happy! Love isn't a little box that only fits one person. It's an ocean. And you're learning to swim in it."
I roll my eyes, though no one sees.
"It's not the same. This is… real. They're real. Their feelings are real. I don't want to hurt them. I don't want to be the idiot who hurts them."
"Hurt? Look at them! They're glowing! Hoshino pampering Reika like she's her treasure! Reika smiling like you've never seen her! You saved both of them! One from Sakurada's hell, the other from Haruto's. And now they're here, in your home, happy. That's not hurt—that's magic! That's love in its purest form! Accept your harem! Enjoy it! And when Akira and Natsuki walk through the door with their red bows… wake me up, I want front-row seats!"
"Shut up," I reply, but with a smile I can't hold back.
I fix my gaze on them.
Hoshino is sitting behind Reika, legs open so Reika can lean against her chest. Her arms wrap tenderly around Reika's waist, one hand stroking her long black hair, brushing strands aside to kiss her crown now and then. She whispers things I can't hear, but they make Reika smile shyly, blush, close her eyes and let herself be loved.
Reika, who's always been ice and perfection, now looks small, vulnerable, happy.
It's tender.
It's beautiful.
It's… mine.
The goddess teases again, voice playful: "Look at that lovesick idiot face! You're done for! Lost in your harem of broken girls you fixed! The yankee redeemer with a heart of gold! What a beautiful novel!"
"Shut up," I reply, but this time with a low laugh.
My eyes settle on Reika and Hoshino, and a small, almost involuntary smile escapes me again. I think about the conversation yesterday afternoon, that serious and strange talk I had with Hoshino at her parents' house, when all this started taking shape. She told me that some classmates (the few who still cared about her, the ones who hadn't distanced themselves when the bullying began) had mentioned that Reika had been slapped by Haruto at school. That they'd seen her crying in the bathrooms. That she seemed forced into something. Hoshino felt sad, guilty for not realizing sooner, for not being closer to Reika when she was still at school. And she asked me, in that timid but determined voice she has, to comfort her. "However necessary," she said. "Even… even if that means you… you love her too."
I laughed a little at that in my head yesterday, because it sounded unreal. A polyamorous relationship. Me, the lone yankee who barely knew how to handle his own feelings, now at the center of two girls who love me with an intensity that scares and flatters me at the same time. I know this comes with huge responsibilities: not hurting anyone, no favoritism, not breaking what we're barely building. It's weird. It's complicated. It's… new.
I push those thoughts away with a mental sigh. This isn't the time to analyze. It's time to live it.
I look at the scene in front of me.
Reika is sitting cross-legged, a little more confident than a while ago, though still with her gaze lowered and cheeks flushed. Hoshino, beside her, is feeding her a piece of dorayaki with chopsticks, giggling softly every time Reika shyly accepts the bite. "Open wide! Ahhh!" Hoshino says playfully, and Reika obeys, red as a tomato, but smiling. The kittens surround them, Mochi trying to steal a bit of anko from the plate, Miso climbing into Reika's lap like he's known her forever.
It's tender.
It's… perfect.
The goddess, of course, doesn't stay quiet.
"Look at that! The dandere feeding the tsundere president like a little bird! And you there with that 'my harem is adorable' face! Admit it! You're done for! Lost in a sea of broken girls you fixed with your magic dick and golden heart!"
"Shut up," I reply, but with a laugh I can't hold back.
I ask out loud, breaking the soft silence:
"Aren't you uncomfortable? With all this… with me… with… the situation."
Hoshino looks at me, hugging Reika's shoulders tighter.
"No! Not at all! I'm happy! Really happy! It's like having a real family!"
Reika lowers her gaze, voice low and trembling.
"I… I feel like I'm intruding… Like I shouldn't be here… After everything…"
Hoshino interrupts, gently caressing her cheek.
"Don't say that! You belong here! With us! With Reiji-senpai and me! And with the kittens! Look how Mochi already loves you!"
Reika smiles—small, but real.
She nods timidly.
I smile wider.
I need to get used to this new lifestyle.
To this… strange family.
I gently move Luna off my lap (she meows in protest but curls up with the kittens), stand, and stretch my arms.
"I'm going to get some real breakfast," I say. "The fridge is empty. I'll be back in a bit."
Reika suddenly speaks up, loud and decisive:
"I'll go with you!"
Then she realizes she shouted, covers her mouth with her hands, red to the ears.
Hoshino laughs cheerfully.
"Me too! Let's all go!"
I smile at them.
"Get ready, then. I'll wait outside."
And I step into the hallway, closing the door carefully.
Heart full.
And a smile I can't wipe off.
Because, damn…
this is weird.
But it's mine.
And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
As I watch the sun begin to set high in the sky, painting the streets in a warm orange that makes everything seem calmer, I spot a familiar figure at the end of the avenue. The same woman from two days ago. The platinum blonde with perfectly styled long hair, the expensive suit, the heels that clack like gunshots. Kurogane Sayuri. The name flashes in my mind, along with the memory of her cutting voice and her look of absolute disdain.
I sigh, long and tired, as if the air itself weighs a ton.
Who's she here to harass this time? Another poor bastard who can't pay rent? Or just to ruin someone else's peace?
The goddess, of course, doesn't stay quiet.
"Mmm… look at that treat coming back. That woman is pure fire wrapped in ice. The way she walks, that tight ass in that skirt… Imagine her on her knees, begging you, those red lips around your…"
"You called her a harpy before," I cut in, with a mocking smile. "Now she's a treat? Make up your mind, goddess."
She laughs, voice husky and seductive.
"Classy harpy! Fuckable harpy! The best kind! The ones who look at you with contempt and then beg you to wreck them! That tension! That hate turning into desire! It's one of my favorite fetishes!"
I roll my eyes so hard I nearly get dizzy.
And then I see it.
Sayuri is in a side alley, backed against the wall by three drunken homeless men. Dirty guys with bottles in hand, torn clothes, faces red from cheap booze and sleazy excitement. One blocks her path, another whispers something in her ear, the third laughs like an idiot.
She yells, voice still haughty but edged with real fear.
"Get away from me, scum! You have no idea who you're dealing with! My family will destroy you!"
The goddess explodes with excitement.
"This is your moment! MILF in danger! Save her and then have her for dessert! Or let her thank you on her knees! Or both! Go! Be the knight in shining armor… or shining cock!"
"I'm only doing it to defend her," I reply, serious. "Not for your perverted fantasies."
"Sure, sure! Defend her! And while you're at it, stick your tongue deep inside so she forgets the fear! Or your hands! Or everything else!"
I mock her logic mentally.
This woman claims to be important, rich, powerful.
And she comes to this neighborhood alone, no bodyguards?
No driver?
Nothing?
It's almost comical.
I walk casually toward the alley, hands in my pockets, sun at my back.
The homeless guys haven't seen me yet.
Sayuri, yes.
Her ice-blue eyes widen a little when she recognizes me.
And I just keep walking.
Because even if she's a harpy…
no one deserves that.
And because, maybe…
maybe I want to see how she reacts when I save her.
The homeless guys are getting closer to her, their hoarse, slurred voices filling the alley with a mix of cheap alcohol and sleazy lust. One of them—the tallest, face full of scars and holding a broken bottle—licks his lips as he eyes her up and down.
"Fuck, look at this high-class slut we've got here… With that tight skirt and those tits! We're gonna fuck her until she can't walk, boys! And then we'll rob her purse, her watch, everything! In this neighborhood the cops don't show up even in your dreams!"
The other one—shorter but with bloodshot eyes—laughs and grabs his crotch.
"Yeah! Me first! I'm gonna take her from behind while she cries! And you cover her mouth so she doesn't scream, eh!"
The third—the one who seems to be the leader, with a knife peeking from his pocket—steps closer, reeking of stale booze and sweat.
"Shut up and help me hold her! This bitch is gonna learn what a real man is!"
Sayuri backs up until she hits the wall, ice-blue eyes full of rage and fear, heels scraping against the asphalt.
Suddenly…
I grab the nearest one by the shoulder, hard enough for him to feel the bones.
All three spin around.
The one I'm holding looks at me, drunk, and suddenly flashes a complicit grin, like we're old pals.
"Hey… you! The dragon yankee! Long time no see, buddy!"
I look at him for a second, waiting for a memory from the old Reiji to unlock.
Nothing.
Just emptiness.
I ask, voice calm but cold:
"What are you planning to do?"
The leader laughs, spitting on the ground.
"What we're gonna do is fuck this rich bitch until she begs us to stop. And then rob her blind! And if you get in the way, we'll gut you too!"
Out of the corner of my eye I see the knife in the third guy's pocket, his hand already reaching for it.
I sigh mentally.
Here we go again.
"Goddess… can you summon some money into their pockets? Just a little. So they leave."
She answers in a lazy, seductive voice:
"Of course I can… but everything has a price, my love. Tonight… you, Reika, and Hoshino. Both of them. Together. In your bed. I want to watch you fuck them until they scream your name. Deal?"
"No," I reply dryly. "Better not."
The homeless guys laugh.
The one with the knife is already pulling it out.
And I act.
My fist shoots forward, straight into the jaw of the guy with the knife.
The impact is crisp, perfect.
His head snaps back, eyes rolling white, the knife clattering to the ground.
He drops like a sack, knocked out cold.
The other two freeze, the drunken haze evaporating in a second.
"Fuck…!" one mutters.
"Let's go! Let's get out of here!"
They grab the unconscious one by the arms and start dragging him away, stumbling, glancing back in terror.
In two seconds they're gone down the alley.
I mentally praise this body.
Incredible.
Strong.
Fast.
Perfect.
The goddess sighs, satisfied.
"Even though you didn't take my deal… that was sexy anyway. That punch! That calm! You're lethal… and I love it."
I smile.
And turn to Sayuri.
Who's staring at me.
Pale.
Trembling.
Eyes wide.
And I just wait.
To see what the harpy has to say now.
Sayuri steadies herself against the wall, her long platinum-blonde hair now slightly disheveled from the scuffle, ice-blue eyes still gleaming with a mix of lingering fear and pure rage. She's breathing hard, chest rising and falling beneath her expensive coat, and when she looks at me, her voice comes out sharp, but with a tremor she can't fully hide.
"You're insolent! A low-life delinquent! I didn't ask for your help! I could have handled this myself!"
I freeze.
It's the first time I've saved someone and they've insulted me straight to my face.
I sigh—long, tired—rubbing the back of my neck.
"You know what, Mrs. Kurogane? It's very unprofessional of you to come to this neighborhood alone, without security. If you're as important as you claim, you should know the rules here aren't the same as in your luxury offices."
She opens her mouth to retort, lips trembling with fury, but the words catch in her throat.
She falls silent.
Just stares at me.
I continue, voice calm but firm.
"What are you doing here again, by the way? Coming to yell at more poor people? Or do you just like the risk?"
She presses her lips together, regaining a bit of composure.
"I came… I came to close a deal with a tenant. A commercial property my company wants to buy. The owner is… stubborn. I thought a personal visit would convince him."
I sigh again.
"Do whatever you want. But if you come back here, bring security. Or don't come back."
I turn to leave.
And her voice stops me.
"Wait."
I turn back.
She looks at me, eyes narrowed, chin high.
"I don't have security because my husband doesn't want to 'waste unnecessary money' on bodyguards for 'routine visits.' He says I'm exaggerating. That I'm paranoid."
My eyes widen slightly.
I can't help mocking her.
"What a husband. Prefers to save a few yen rather than keep his wife from getting raped in an alley. Quite the gentleman."
She blushes with rage.
"Don't talk about him like that! He's a businessman! He knows how to prioritize! You don't understand anything about our world!"
I laugh—low, genuine.
"Your world sounds like shit, ma'am."
I turn again.
And she stops me once more.
"Wait! I'm offering you a job!"
I turn slowly.
Look at her with absolute mockery.
"A job? You're seriously going to hire a twenty-year-old neighborhood kid as a personal bodyguard? There are entire companies that train people for that. Professionals. With experience. With legal weapons."
She takes a step closer, heels echoing in the silent alley.
"I know that perfectly well. But that homeless guy greeted you like he knew you. Like he respected you. Or feared you. In this neighborhood, people know you. And that… that's worth more than any academy training."
"You're not being reasonable," I reply, serious. "I'm a student. Twenty years old. Zero experience as a bodyguard. No license. Nothing."
In my mind I think about the military service from my previous life—two years of hard training, weapons, hand-to-hand combat—but that doesn't count here. That was another life.
She steps closer.
Looks me dead in the eye, blue eyes like blades.
"I don't care."
And she says, voice firm, absolute:
"As of now, you're my personal bodyguard."
And I just stand there.
Looking at her.
Not knowing whether to laugh or tell her to fuck off.
I openly mock her, with a crooked smile I know irritates her.
"Seriously? You're going to hire a 'neighborhood delinquent,' as you call me? You won't do it. Go to a professional agency and stop playing the damsel in distress."
I turn around and start walking out of the alley, hands in my pockets, the afternoon cold biting the back of my neck.
And then her voice stops me—cold, but with an edge of urgency.
"Wait! I'll pay you five hundred thousand yen a month!"
I stop dead.
Turn my head slowly.
Five hundred thousand.
The goddess explodes in my head, voice seductive and eager:
"ACCEPT, YOU IDIOT! FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND A MONTH! For following a rich MILF around Shinjuku! It's the dream job! And if she gets pushy, you can always 'punish' her a little…"
I look at Sayuri.
Her blue eyes challenge me.
I sigh.
Think fast.
I wasn't going back to school anyway. Online classes, maybe, but in-person… no. I could rely on the goddess for money, sure, but every time I ask for something she demands "payments" that usually end in very… intense nights with whoever's nearby. This doesn't sound bad. Real job. Clean money. Killing time instead of being cooped up at home.
I smile faintly.
"I accept. But with one condition: you pay for the training. Professional close-protection course. Weapons, advanced self-defense, everything. I'm not going to be your human shield without knowing what I'm doing."
She looks at me for a second, eyes narrowed, evaluating me.
Then nods.
"Deal."
She steps closer, heels echoing in the silent alley.
Pulls a business card from her handbag—black, with gold lettering.
Places it in my hand.
"You start tomorrow. Nine o'clock sharp. Imperial Tower Hotel, Shinjuku. Room 3402. Don't be late."
She gives me one last look, up and down, as if she still can't quite believe what she just did.
And walks away.
Heels clacking until they fade.
I pocket the card.
And then…
"Reiji-senpai!"
"Reiji!"
I step out of the alley.
Hoshino and Reika are at the street corner, looking at me with faces full of worry and relief.
Hoshino runs to me first, as always.
Reika follows, calmer, but eyes fixed on me.
And I smile.