"Alright, that's enough for today. Club activities are almost over, so let's wrap it up here," Yukinoshita Haruno announced, glancing at the time.
A collective sigh of relief spread across the room as everyone stretched and began packing up.
Ken Sudo, who had been itching to get back to basketball, had already stashed most of his things away. The moment he got the signal, he grabbed his bag and bolted out like he was running a hundred-meter sprint straight to the basketball court.
Meanwhile, Kure Ragna sat beside Karuizawa Kei, helping her finish the last problem in her homework. Across from him, Sakura Airi quietly packed her things. Their eyes met for a brief second—just a subtle exchange, but it was enough.
A silent promise.
Sakura Airi gave a small nod before returning to her task.
Ten minutes later, Kure Ragna made his way back to his dorm. Since he had left with the group, it wasn't exactly an option to casually waltz over to the girls' dormitory in plain sight.
Not that it was strictly forbidden—he had recently learned that boys could technically visit the girls' dorms, just as long as it wasn't past 8 PM. But staying the night? That was a whole different challenge.
For now, though, he had somewhere else to be.
---
Inside the Dorm
The moment Kure stepped into his dorm, the familiar sound of sizzling oil greeted him. The scent of food should have followed, but oddly, it didn't.
He slipped off his shoes and walked into the kitchen, where Kushida Kikyo stood by the stove, an apron draped over her casual clothes. A frying pan sat before her, two eggs crisping up on the burner.
"You're back?" she asked without turning around.
"Mm-hmm," Kure hummed, stepping closer. He peered over her shoulder at the eggs, watching as the edges turned a golden brown. "Did you start cooking the second I got home?"
Kushida paused, then shot him a sideways glance, her lips curving into a slight pout.
"If you don't want fresh food, I can always toss it in the fridge and serve it cold next time," she quipped.
"I expected you to say, 'I never said I was making it for you.'"
"To be honest, I was going to."
Kure smirked and, without thinking, wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He was careful not to interfere with her movements, resting his chin lightly against her shoulder.
"How's your body holding up?" he asked.
"I'm fine." Kushida didn't sound concerned. "Just a little sore and drained. Nothing a bit of rest won't fix. It's not like I'm dying or anything… Alright, here."
She shut off the stove, slicing the connected eggs apart with the spatula before scooping one half into a bowl. Without looking, she handed it to him.
He glanced down. The side with more egg yolk.
He knew why—she didn't like yolks, said they were too dry and choked her up. So she always passed them off to someone who didn't mind.
Kure took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Not bad. A little plain, though."
"Then add soy sauce yourself."
"Eh, no need. It's good as is."
He finished quickly, rinsing his bowl and chopsticks in the sink before turning to the door.
"Just leave it," Kushida called from the kitchen. "I'll wash them later."
"Appreciate it."
As he pulled on his shoes, she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.
"Heading out?"
"Yeah, got something to take care of. Just a small request."
"Free work?"
"Pretty much. But if everything goes well, it should be interesting."
Kushida arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Kure chuckled. "It'd be fun to bring you along, but I was asked to keep it confidential."
Rolling her eyes, she turned away. "Who said I wanted to go with you?"
Still, there was a flicker of amusement in her expression before she disappeared back into the kitchen.
---
Sakura's Room
Ding.
The elevator stopped on the eleventh floor, doors sliding open to an empty hallway.
Most students were either still at club activities or already locked up in their dorms, which suited Kure just fine. Following the dorm number Sakura had sent him, he walked up to a door and knocked.
Tee, tee, tee.
A brief pause. Then, the peephole darkened. A few seconds later, the doorknob turned, and Sakura Airi peeked out.
"Um… come in, quickly," she whispered, stepping aside.
Kure entered, noting the neatly arranged yet modestly decorated space. But his attention was immediately drawn to the bed—where a small mountain of envelopes sat in a messy pile.
Hundreds of them.
"These are the letters you mentioned?" he asked, eyebrows raising.
Sakura nodded hesitantly. "Yeah… I've been getting them ever since I started school."
She explained that she was a popular freelance model on social platforms, and at first, she only received a letter every few days.
But as time passed, the frequency increased—one per day, then two, then three. Now, she was getting four or five daily.
And none of them had a sender's name.
Kure picked up a few, tearing them open. He scanned the contents before letting out a small scoff.
"This isn't love. It's obsession."
The messages were brief, unsettling.
"We locked eyes again today."
"Did you notice my gaze? Did you feel it?"
"I love you so much. I can't stop thinking about you!"
He tossed the letter aside. "This is some real stalker behavior."
Sakura swallowed, her fingers clutching her sleeve. "I… I know."
"From the handwriting alone, it's obvious these were all written by the same person," Kure muttered, rubbing his chin.
Sakura hesitated before speaking. "...I do have one suspect."
Kure's gaze sharpened. "Go on."
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