After School ended, the trio made their way to Yu's apartment complex.
Yu's studio apartment, usually so quiet it felt like a tomb, suddenly hummed with girlish chatter. Bags dropped at the door, shoes kicked off in a pile, and Sakura immediately claimed the low table in the living room, spreading out notebooks, pens, and textbooks like a general unrolling war maps.
"Okay, math test destroyed us,"
She said with authority.
"So today we start with math. Then history. Then English vocab."
Yu plopped down beside her, eyes wide as the mountain of books grew.
"…This looks like enough to summon a demon."
Sakura smirked.
"Exactly. The demon of grades."
Meanwhile, Fumiko tied her hair back and padded into the kitchen.
"I'll make snacks! We can't study without fuel."
Yu jumped up, nearly knocking over his chair.
"I'll help! I—I need more practice anyway!"
Fumiko eyed him with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"…You've been practicing since our last lesson, right?"
Yu nodded solemnly.
"It's… a dangerous art."
"Don't worry, practice makes perfect!"
She said warmly, rolling her sleeves up.
Yu's heart fluttered before DK01's dry tone cut across.
[Translation: She's about to witness the culinary apocalypse firsthand if Host touches a pot. Brace yourself, civilian.]
Yu scowled inwardly.
'I'm getting better, you'll see! This time I won't burn water!'
In the kitchen, Fumiko guided him through simple steps: washing strawberries, slicing them carefully, arranging crackers and cheese on a plate. Yu was determined… and only dropped the knife once.
"Careful, Yu-chan!"
Fumiko laughed, steadying his hand.
"You're too cute to lose a finger."
Yu flushed bright red, but managed to finish stacking a small tower of crackers, cheese, and fruit. His chest puffed with pride as Fumiko set the tray down at the study table.
Sakura glanced up, nodding in approval.
"Not bad, Chef Yu."
Yu beamed.
'See, DK! I can cook!'
[…You assembled ingredients. That's the culinary equivalent of finger painting.]
Yu pouted but shoved a strawberry in his mouth, cheeks puffing again like a squirrel.
Sakura tapped her pen against a notebook.
"Alright! Snacks ready, books open, pencils out. Let's conquer homework before it conquers us."
The three bent over their work, the room filling with the scratch of pens, the occasional squeal when Yu misunderstood a problem, and bursts of laughter when his metaphors turned math formulas into curses and hexes.
Once again, Yu's apartment wasn't lonely at all.
---
Evening began to settle on the group study session.
The table was covered in open notebooks and scribbled worksheets, crumbs of crackers, and the faint sweetness of strawberries. Sakura and Fumiko leaned over Yu's shoulder as he tried to wrestle with another math problem, chewing the end of his pencil like it might whisper the answer if he gnawed hard enough.
"Not minus five, Yu-chan,"
Fumiko giggled, pointing at his half-erased scrawl.
"That's plus five. You're adding."
Yu blinked.
"…That explains why the universe kept collapsing."
The girls burst into laughter, the sound warm and bright.
For a moment, Yu froze, caught in the sound of it—their smiles aimed at him, not in mockery, not in malice, just… joy. It was simple. And it ached a little.
'So this is what it's like,'
Yu thought, chest tightening.
'To sit together, to share food, to laugh like this… Yukio never had this, did he? He sat alone. Always alone. No one to share his notes with, no one to tease him when he mixed up signs…'
His eyes softened.
'But I do. Right here. Right now.'
[Don't go sentimental on me,]
DK01 muttered.
[You'll ruin your eyeliner.]
Yu shook his head quickly, forcing a smile before either girl noticed his faraway look.
"Okay, okay, next problem—this one's the final boss, right?"
"Exactly!"
Sakura grinned, tapping her pen.
"But don't worry, we'll beat it together."
And just like that, the heaviness melted into laughter again, the room alive with chatter and scribbles. Yu fumbled, learned, improved—still miles behind, but at least not drowning alone anymore.
Time slipped past until the sky dimmed pink outside. Fumiko stretched with a groan.
"We better head home before it gets dark."
"Yeah,"
Sakura agreed, gathering her things.
"We'll keep at it tomorrow."
Yu walked them to the door, waving as they disappeared down the hall. When he shut the door behind him, the apartment felt quieter—but not empty.
He collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, his phone glowing in his hand. The girls had explained more about apps earlier, and now curiosity buzzed through him. Tapping his way through clumsy menus, he set up an Instagram account, picking a soft profile picture that didn't show his face and fumbling over what to write in his bio.
Then, he nervously typed into the group chat.
Yu: How do you make this look cute?
Replies came fast. Sakura spammed glittery emojis and links to her own page; Fumiko shared her latest latte pic with proud flair. Yu followed their links, wide-eyed at the world of photos and captions. After a little coaching, he finally dropped the link to his own empty profile.
Seconds later, the notification bell lit up: 2 followers.
Fumiko. Sakura.
Yu stared at the glowing little number, his chest blooming warm and soft. He smiled—big, bright, unguarded—before rolling onto his back, clutching the phone to his chest.
For the first time since waking in this world, he didn't feel like he was surviving. He felt… connected.
Yu soon set his phone down and began to do his night routine, slipping out of clothes and going to take a shower.
Some time later, Yu hummed as he stepped out of the shower, towel draped over his shoulders, damp loose hair clinging to his cheek. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen flashing with a new notification.
1 new follower.
Yu blinked, lips parting.
"Oh? Someone else found me?"
He tapped into his profile, only to see a blank account: no posts, no picture, just a username full of random numbers.
"Suspicious…"
He muttered, frowning.
'Maybe it's a demon spy…?'
Confused, Yu went straight to the group chat.
Yu: Uhm, how do I see who this is? Someone followed me but their page is empty…
Fumiko's reply was instant.
Fumiko: lolol welcome to the internet, Yu-chan 😘 sometimes randos follow u
Sakura jumped in seconds later.
Sakura: Yeah but be careful! People like that can be super sketchy. Don't click on links from strangers. Internet safety rule #1.
Yu tilted his head.
"Internet safety…?"
The next five minutes turned into a frantic crash course. The girls spammed him with warnings, stories, and tips.
"People could kidnap you???"
Yu yelped aloud, clutching the phone tight. His eyes went wide.
"Delete account! DELETE ACCOUNT!"
[Calm yourself, drama queen,]
DK01 droned.
[You're about as subtle as a parade float.]
Yu: Maybe I should delete this…
Both girls fired back instantly.
Fumiko: NO! You're too cute to quit! 😤 If anyone messes with you, I'll fight them.
Sakura: Same! We've got your back, Yu-chan 💕
Yu's chest softened, their words wrapping around him like a blanket. He typed back shyly.
Yu: …Okay. I feel safer now. I'll try to be careful.
Nodding, he began fiddling with privacy settings, checking boxes, locking things down.
"There, safety measures activated!"
That's when DK01's dry voice cut in.
[You're panicking over nothing. That anonymous account? It's someone you know.]
Yu blinked, towel slipping off his shoulders.
"...Wait, really?? Who?? Tell me!"
DK01 was silent for a beat, as though weighing his options.
[Hn. It could compromise things if I tell you…]
Yu pouted, lips puffing.
"You can't just say that and not explain!"
A pause. Then DK01 sighed.
[Fine. It's Taichi Arifukua. Your neighbor. Your… knight in not-so-shining armor.]
Yu froze, red eyes widening, the faintest pink creeping onto his cheeks.
"…Taichi…?"
On the other side of the wall, Taichi lay in bed, phone glowing in his palm as he stared at Yu's profile picture for the twentieth time. He didn't know why he'd made the account—or why his chest tightened every time that little profile picture popped up on his screen.
---
Morning light soon spilled into Yu's apartment through the cracks of his curtains.
Yu groaned as he dragged himself out of bed, white hair limp and one forgotten ribbon dangled off. His red eyes were half-lidded, heavy with shadows. He'd barely slept—rolling around all night, staring at his phone, staring at Taichi's empty account, staring at the ceiling, thinking.
At one point, he had even tried braiding his hair as a means to distract himself, only to forget it when he looked at his phone.
Should he ask Taichi directly? Should he thank him for the follow? Should he pretend he didn't know?
Every possible outcome played in his head until the sun came up, none of them making him feel less like a trapped rabbit.
[You look like death warmed over.]
DK01 commented, his voice as crisp as always.
[Shall I prepare a tombstone? Here lies Yu, defeated not by sword or spell, but by social media.]
Yu slapped his cheeks, trying to pep himself up.
"No, no, no, I can't worry about this! I'll just… I'll just keep it a secret for now. Yeah! Pretend I don't know. Just… study hard, pass my classes, cook, learn makeup and fashion… and hang out with my friends."
He puffed his chest with forced determination. His reflection in the mirror, cowlicks jutting everywhere, didn't look nearly as confident.
---
At school, morning lessons continued onward.
Yu slumped into his seat, barely hiding a yawn. Fumiko Fujimori leaned over immediately, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Yu-chan, were you up all night again watching tutorials?"
She teased.
Yu blushed and shook his head quickly.
"N-no! Not… not exactly."
Sakura Sato leaned in from the other side, chin resting on her palm.
"Aww, so you were up late anyway? I bet you were practicing your braid again, weren't you? That ribbon is just as adorable today!"
Yu perked up despite his exhaustion. Compliments always had that effect.
"You… you really think so? I tried to tie it tighter this time so it wouldn't slip."
The girls giggled, fussing over him, and Yu felt the tightness in his chest ease.
'This is better. This is what I should focus on.'
Meanwhile, from the back row, Taichi's pen twitched against his notebook. He hadn't slept much either, haunted by the memory of Yu feeding him, Yu smiling, Yu glowing with those two girls. And now Yu's ribbon caught the morning light like fire.
His friends noticed nothing—except when he didn't answer a joke.
"Yo, Taichi, you dead or what?"
Souma whispered, smirking.
Taichi just grunted, turning back to his notes. His mask was cracking, and he knew it.
Yu tried to stay focused on class, head bobbing slightly from fatigue, but each time he thought about Taichi's secret follow, his heart skipped. He clutched his pen tighter.
'Nope. Not thinking about it. Not asking. Just… focus. Friends, classes, cooking, makeup. That's all.'
Even if it meant pretending his neighbor wasn't quietly haunting every thought.
---
Yu's "don't think about it, just focus on friends" mantra held strong.
Today, he was laughing with Fumiko Fujimori and Sakura Sato in the cafeteria, the three of them huddled over their bentos and swapping lip gloss. Yu's tragic bento was quietly replaced with one of Fumiko's extras, and she promised to drill him harder in cooking lessons.
By Thursday, the trio sat cross-legged in the library, whisper-cramming math problems. Yu puffed his cheeks at the squiggly runes in his book, making the girls laugh so hard they nearly got shushed out of the room.
By Friday, they were already making plans for the weekend—another cooking lesson, shopping together, and Yu promising to show them the progress on his anonymous Instagram account.
Yu, glowing brighter with each new plan, juggled his phone constantly: bookmarking makeup tutorials, scrolling beginner cooking guides, even learning how to use timers so he wouldn't burn rice again. DK01 grumbled constantly about the battery life he was wasting.
[At this rate,]
DK01 said dryly.
[Your education will consist of lipstick reviews and boiling water safety manuals. But at least you'll die pretty and slightly less hungry.]
Yu ignored him, basking in his friends' warmth.
---
On the other hand, Taichi barely held himself together.
All week long he sat in the back row, grinding his teeth while Yu lit up the classroom. Every giggle with those girls, every sparkling glance, every new ribbon or gloss or hairstyle—it all scraped at Taichi's composure. His friends kept jeering about the "new girl," nudging him to confess before someone else swooped in.
None of them knew what Taichi knew. None of them saw Yu and remembered Yukio.
Each night, Taichi stewed in his room. Sometimes he caught glimpses of Yu through the thin walls—laughing, clattering pans, or giggling into voice calls with Fumiko and Sakura. Every sound gnawed at him until he thought he'd combust.
By Saturday, Taichi's patience was threadbare. He paced his room, unable to shake the heat pooling in his chest every time he replayed the sight of Yu in that skirt, ribbon glowing like firelight, laughing with someone else.
---
On Saturday morning, Yu, oblivious to the storm brewing next door, stood at his counter with a mixing bowl, proudly holding up eggs. Fumiko and Sakura had given him a list of simple recipes to practice before their next lesson, and he was determined to master at least one.
"Today,"
Yu declared with a dramatic point at the stove,
"I, Yu, conquer the omelet!"
[Yes,]
DK01 sighed.
[And by 'conquer,' I assume you mean 'set on fire in three minutes flat.' A fitting way to end your week of delusions.]
Yu stuck out his tongue, rolling up his sleeves with bright determination. His friends were counting on him. His Demon King was counting on him. And if he could just ignore the weird tingling in his chest every time Taichi's face popped into his head, everything would be perfect.
After Yu ate his less burnt eggs, he began preping for his outing with the girls. Taking out outfits after outfits and sending Sakura and Fumiko pictures of them so they can help him pick the perfect clothes.
Yu twirled once in the mirror, lips puckered in concentration. The white spring dress swished around his pale legs, the pink cardigan sat neatly on his shoulders, and his platform slippers gave him just enough height to feel confident. The purse—cherry blossom print with a little ribbon zipper pull—bounced at his hip.
His hair, done up in a high bun with a pearl clip, wobbled slightly when he tilted his head. He grinned.
"Cute, right?"
Yu whispered to his reflection, striking a mock idol pose.
[Cute,]
DK01 agreed flatly.
[Like a lamb dressed for the slaughter. I'll give you… five minutes before someone mistakes you for a fashion influencer.]
Yu giggled, cheeks warming.
"You think so? Fumiko and Sakura said this is a 'mall-approved' outfit. I have to live up to their expectations!"
[Yes, yes. Heaven forbid you let them discover you're a disaster in platforms, that incubus tail you had really was the MVP for your balance,]
DK01 said.
[Try not to sprain an ankle before you get to the food court.]
Yu ignored him, humming happily as he swung the door open.
But his smile froze the second he stepped into the hall.
There—just a few feet away, coming back from outside—was Taichi.
Taichi stopped mid-step. He'd been wearing his usual casual weekend clothes—hoodie half-zipped, sneakers scuffed, hands shoved in his pockets. His face was already brooding by default, but when his eyes lifted and locked on Yu…
It was like someone had punched the air from his lungs.
Yu—no, Yukio—stood there glowing like he'd stepped out of a magazine. White dress, pink cardigan, bun perfectly, well, mostly, tied. Everything about him screamed soft, fresh, untouchably adorable.
Taichi's jaw tightened. His fingers curled into fists in his pockets.
Yu, heart hammering, forced a bright smile and lifted his hand in a tiny, awkward wave.
"H-hi, Taichi-san!"
The words came out squeaky. Yu immediately wanted to bash his head into the wall.
Inside, he hissed to DK.
'Why is he here?! Why is he seeing me like this?!'
[Because, statistically speaking, neighbors are prone to existing in shared hallways,]
DK01 said.
[Now breathe. You look like you're about to faint.]
Taichi's eyes flicked from Yu's ribboned purse to his wobbly platforms, then lingered—too long—on his bare collarbone peeking out from the cardigan. His ears reddened.
Yu tugged the strap of his purse higher on his shoulder. He hadn't expected Taichi to be coming back from outside at the same moment he was heading out.
Yu blinked up at him, his bright ribbon-matched eyes glinting as the sunlight from the window spilled across them.
"I-I'm heading out."
He chirped, voice light, innocent. His purse bobbed slightly as he gave a tiny bow.
Taichi didn't move. Didn't breathe. His fingers curled at his side as the sway of Yu's skirt brushed just out of reach.
"…Tch."
Taichi muttered, yanking his hood up and brushing past without another word.
Yu froze in place, staring after him. His stomach twisted.
'Was he mad? Annoyed? Did I look stupid?'
[Oh no, you looked radiant,]
DK01 said sweetly.
[So radiant, in fact, I predict his fragile adolescent heart will detonate by sundown.]
Yu puffed his cheeks.
"Not funny!"
Still, his legs wobbled as he descended the stairs to meet Fumiko and Sakura, who immediately squealed at the sight of him.
---
Back in his room, Taichi sat on the edge of his bed, hand pressed over his face. His chest was tight, his pulse still skipping.
'Why does he keep showing up like this? Why like that?'
He tried to tell himself it was just clothes. Just the act. Just Yukio—playing some sick joke.
But then the memory of those sparkling red eyes under the ribbon cut through him. The way Yu's hair, tied up so neatly, had framed his small face.
Taichi groaned and buried his head into his hands.
'It's unbearable. Everyone else sees a cute girl. I see Yukio. And I still—'
He couldn't finish the thought. He didn't dare.