Isagi ended up staying a little longer than he had planned.
It wasn't because Marin insisted—though she did try, using that shameless pleading look she made without realizing it—but because time simply slipped away while they adjusted small details: the angle of the gaze, the way of walking, and even the most provocative ahegao and pleasure expressions. All of that was, for him, incredibly strange to experience.
Especially because the girl didn't hold back on the teasing. Even so, he was no longer so dominated by his own "hormones." He wanted to handle the situation like a mature adult, not like a teenager driven by impulses. The idea of a harem certainly wasn't something common, much less simple, for an adult man. Still, it wasn't impossible. It would require effort, responsibility, and, above all, maturity—he believed he was finally maturing a little...
In the end, when he finally checked the clock on his phone, he realized it was already past ten.
"Okay," he said, putting the device back in his pocket. "Now I really have to go."
Marin made an automatic pout, but didn't complain.
"I know, I know… you already stayed quite a while," she replied, sighing lightly. "Even so… thank you. Seriously."
She walked Isagi to the door, now without the exuberant energy from before, but with a smile that seemed more intimate than any exaggerated excitement.
"Good night, Isagi-kun."
"Good night, Kitagawa-san."
He went down the stairs with the strange feeling that something had changed there...
From inside the apartment, Marin leaned her forehead against the door as soon as he left, standing there for a few seconds. Her heart was beating far too fast. Way too fast! That wasn't normal for someone who was just "grateful," right!? Right!?
She placed her hand on her chest, feeling the completely out-of-control thump-thump, while her head began to spin. She remembered the absurd effort that someone so busy and dedicated had made for her dream. She remembered the time they spent together, the silly conversations, the strangely comfortable moments… the way Isagi-kun always treated her seriously, even when she was talking about the most embarrassing things in the world.
…Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
Her face turned red in an instant.
OH NO.
Ohhhhh no, no, no, NO!!
She was in love with Isagi-kun!?
When did that happen!? How!? And how had she not noticed before!? Why so suddenly!? Damn, damn, damn...
She slowly slid down until she was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees, completely in panic.
Ahhhh, what was she going to do now!? She had just realized it NOW!? Too late!? Too early!? Both!?
The conclusion hit like a critical blow straight to the heart: She loved Isagi-kun.
She loved him A LOT! There was no way not to love someone so incredible, so handsome, so dedicated... So Isagi!
What was she going to do now!?
.
.
.
.
.
When Isagi got home, he found the living room still lit. The television was on, but now Iyo was sitting more relaxed on the sofa, with a mug of tea in her hands, while Issei absentmindedly flipped through an old newspaper.
"You're back quick..." his father commented, glancing over the paper.
"Did you manage to do what you needed to do?" Iyo asked, smiling.
"Yes," Isagi replied. "Everything went well."
He sat with them for a few minutes, talking about simple things: the TV program, the weather that seemed to be getting colder earlier lately, some casual comment about soccer that Issei made almost out of habit. Nothing deep. Nothing heavy. It was… comfortable.
After saying goodbye, Isagi went back upstairs to his room.
He turned on the computer and spent a good while working on his YouTube channels. He edited a video, replied to comments, scheduled a post for the next day. It was a part of his routine he knew well, almost automatic, but that still required enough focus to keep his mind occupied.
When he finally picked up his phone again, the notifications were waiting.
Messages from Alya, some loose conversation with Yuki, a short voice message from Maria commenting on something trivial… and several messages from Kaguya.
He took a deep breath before opening them.
She wanted simple things. Walking together, watching something side by side, talking for hours for no reason. Normal couple things.
Isagi replied honestly.
He explained that he agreed. That he wanted that too. That he wasn't avoiding her, he was just really busy that weekend. He told her, without going into unnecessary details, that he had commitments, scheduled meetings, things to take care of.
Her response came quickly… and a little colder than usual.
She didn't complain.
But the jealousy was there, implicit in the careful words, in the way she asked who he was going to meet, even pretending it was just curiosity.
Isagi explained everything calmly and honestly.
She took a while to reply after that.
When she did, she said she understood.
And somehow, that hurt more than any demand.
After a few more messages, he set the phone aside and went on with his routine: a quick shower, changing clothes, organizing his backpack for the next day.
When he finally threw himself onto the bed, his body quietly complained.
The fatigue came heavy.
But his mind… refused to shut off.
...The decisions he had made and the consequences that hadn't arrived yet.
Isagi stared at the dark ceiling for a few seconds, breathing deeply.
This life was far from simple.
But, for the first time, he didn't feel like running from it.
With his thoughts gradually tangling, the weight of the day finally overcame him.
And, exhausted, Isagi Yoichi fell asleep.
Not knowing exactly what awaited him… but aware that, this time, he would have to face everything head-on and pursue all his ambitions in a "selfish" way.
.
.
.
.
.
Saturday dragged on lazily, with the afternoon sun pouring soft light over Saitama-shintoshin. The activity around Cocoon City was constant but not chaotic; families, couples, groups of friends coming and going, the distant sound of ambient music mixed with lively conversations.
Isagi was standing near the main entrance, slightly away from the flow of people, focused on his phone as he checked a quick message. He was wearing casual but well-thought-out clothes: a clean shirt in neutral tones, well-fitted dark pants, and discreet sneakers.
He put the phone back in his pocket the moment he noticed someone approaching. Yes, he was on a date with another of the girls who liked him—ironically, the younger sister of his best friend.
His eyes turned to her just as Yuki walked toward him.
She was wearing a delicate, almost classic outfit: a light fabric skirt that swayed gently with each step, a well-cut blouse, and a thin coat draped naturally over her shoulders. Everything about her seemed carefully chosen, reflecting the refined upbringing and image of a young lady from a traditional noble family. Her long, straight, glossy black hair fell gracefully to her waist, framing the serene and beautiful face of someone who looked more like a princess from a fairy tale...
Several glances turned toward her without any restraint.
Yuki, as always, completely ignored them.
As soon as she saw him, her face lit up subtly, and she quickened her pace a little, stopping in front of him with her usual impeccable posture.
"Good afternoon, Isagi-kun," she greeted with a polite smile. "Sorry for the delay… did I make you wait long?"
"No," he replied naturally. "I just got here a little while ago."
Her shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly.
"What a relief…" Yuki murmured softly, before composing herself. Her eyes scanned Isagi from head to toe for a second—too quick to seem bold, but too intense to be innocent. "You look… very elegant today."
Isagi tilted his head slightly.
"You too. You look very beautiful."
The outward reaction was minimal.
Inside, it was absolute chaos.
Yuki's heart practically screamed, but she maintained control with mastery, limiting herself to a slight blush on her cheeks.
"Thank you," she replied softly. "I'm glad to hear that from you."
For a moment, she kept her composure… then her eyes sparkled with something completely different. An almost youthful enthusiasm took over her expression, breaking the refined image she sustained so well.
"Ah! Before we go to the clothing stores," she said, taking a step forward. "There's a place I want to visit first. Would that be a problem for you, Isagi-kun?"
Isagi raised an eyebrow.
"No, not at all. But a specific place you want to visit...? Don't tell me..."
"Yes!" She nodded, interrupting him with a bit more energy than usual. "I've been looking forward to this since yesterday."
He observed her for a second—that curious mix of elegance and excitement that only Yuki could pull off without seeming out of place—and knew where this was going...
"…All right," he replied. "Let's go."
The smile she gave was far too wide for someone trying to maintain the image of a perfect young lady.
"Great! This way!"
She turned and started walking ahead, her steps a little quicker, almost impatient. Isagi followed without difficulty, entering the shopping center with her.
The air conditioning enveloped them, along with the familiar smell of coffee, new paper, and plastic from freshly opened packages. Yuki led the way with precision, weaving through the crowd with ease, until she stopped in front of a large store with display windows full of colorful covers and eye-catching illustrations.
Manga. Light novels. Artbooks.
She turned to him, clearly pleased.
"It's here."
Isagi looked at the window for a moment, recognizing several famous titles… and some very specific ones. He wasn't surprised, because he already knew this side of the personality of the famous and elegant "noble princess" of Ichinan Academy.
"You were excited for this?" he asked.
Yuki nodded, but this time she looked away for a second, as if choosing her words.
"I… wanted to come with you," she admitted in a low voice, before quickly regaining her elegant posture. "I thought it would be more fun."
Isagi didn't comment. He simply opened the store door and gestured for her to go in first.
She blinked, surprised, and then entered, feeling her heart race again.
Inside, Yuki was smiling like a complete otaku on the release day of a new volume.
As soon as they crossed the store's threshold, the change in Yuki was almost immediate.
Her impeccable posture softened. Her shoulders relaxed. Her gaze, previously carefully restrained, began to shine with excitement that was hard to hide. It was as if, in that space filled with tall shelves and colorful covers, the "young lady of the Suou family" had given temporary leave to the real Yuki.
"…Wow."
The sound escaped her lips before she even realized it. She brought her hand to her mouth out of reflex, clearing her throat right after, as if she could recover the lost composure.
"I mean—" she began, composing herself for half a second… only to fail soon after, when her eyes found an entire shelf dedicated to light novels. "ISAGI-KUN, THEY HAVE THE LIMITED EDITION—!"
She caught herself at the last second, lowering her voice, but it was already too late. Isagi watched her from the side, with a calm and slightly amused expression.
"You don't have to pretend here, you know," he said. "It's just the two of us..."
Yuki froze for a moment.
Then, slowly, she turned her face to him.
"…You promise you won't laugh?"
"I don't promise," he replied honestly. "But I won't judge."
She stared at him for two full seconds… and then sighed, as if giving up on keeping any facade.
"Okay," Yuki said all at once, her eyes shining again. "I've been waiting for this day."
And it was like opening a floodgate.
Yuki practically floated to the nearest shelf, running her fingers along the spines with an almost intimate familiarity.
"This one is great..." she began, picking up a volume. "It starts like a normal school comedy, but in volume three there's an absurd political twist, like Game of Thrones light novel version—ah! And this other one—!"
She switched books quickly, speaking without pausing for breath, her thoughts spilling out unfiltered.
"I know it sounds cliché, but I SWEAR the protagonist isn't as dense as he seems—well, he is, but in a functional way—and this one?" She held up another, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "It has UNRESOLVED sexual tension for SEVEN VOLUMES. SEVEN. It's practically psychological torture."
Isagi crossed his arms, watching.
"…You really drop the lady filter when you're with me, huh?"
Yuki blinked… and then smiled in a dangerously honest way.
"I think worse things, Isagi-kun," she said without any shame. "I just don't say them because normally it wouldn't be appropriate."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Normally?"
She stepped a little closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
"With you, it's different."
Isagi's heart gave a small jolt, subtle, almost imperceptible. He covered it by looking at the shelf in front of him.
"I imagine your brother suffered a lot..."
"Masachika?" Yuki laughed softly. "He was my guinea pig. Poor thing. But thanks to me, he became a man of culture, as you know. And he didn't suffer at all, since he has an adorable little sister who cares deeply about him..."
"I believe he has a different opinion about that..." Isagi gave an ironic smile...
Yuki just looked in his direction with a strange expression, tilted her head thoughtfully for half a second, before saying, completely naturally:
"By the way, if you wanted to read something more… intense, I have recommendations."
Isagi coughed lightly.
"Let's take it slow."
She laughed, satisfied at finally managing to tease him.
Gradually, the two began walking around the store together. Yuki commented on covers, plots, clichés she loved and hated with equal intensity, while Isagi listened with genuine attention, asking pointed questions, sometimes disagreeing, sometimes just observing that side of her that was rarely seen in public.
At one point, she stopped in front of a specific shelf.
"…Ah."
It was a small sound.
Isagi noticed.
"Do you want those?" he asked.
She shook her head immediately.
"No, no, I just—" She picked up one volume, then another, clearly hesitant. "I already have some at home. And they're kind of expensive…"
Before she could finish, Isagi had already taken three volumes and placed them in the stack in his arms.
"Isagi-kun—!"
"I'll pay..." he said simply.
Her eyes widened.
"No! You don't have to, really! I can buy them later, or order online, or—"
"Yuki."
She stopped.
He looked at her calmly, without stiffness, just conviction.
"Technically, we're on a date. I'm not going to let you pay."
"But—"
"And," he added in an almost casual tone, "I have plenty of money. This won't hurt me."
She clutched the books to her chest, clearly conflicted.
"…You don't have to do this."
"I know," he replied. "But I want to."
Yuki was silent for a few seconds.
Then, very slowly, a small, genuine smile appeared on her face—not the elegant one, not the teasing one. Something more… feminine. Vulnerable.
"…Thank you..." she said softly. "Really."
She tried to return at least one of the volumes.
Isagi refused.
She tried again.
He refused again.
In the end, she gave up, not without murmuring something about him being "way too problematic for a girl's heart."
When they reached the checkout, the pile was considerable.
Yuki watched as he paid, her eyes slightly wide, her heart racing for reasons far beyond the books.
When they left the store, carrying the bags, Yuki held hers with excessive care, as if they were treasure.
She looked up at him, her expression half-mischievous as she slowly smiled and said: "…I had so much fun in a manga and light novel store—this is incredible! I never imagined our soccer star would be so kind as to give so many gifts to a lady like me... At this rate, I might end up falling in love, you know?"
"...I just have good principles and wanted to make you have fun..." Isagi replied, rolling his eyes at the girl's mischievous expression.
"....Isagi-kun, you're making me blush!" Yuki placed both hands on her cheeks. "If you keep being this kind to me—buying manga, listening to my crazy theories, and treating me like I'm special… I might end up imagining some very indecent things about you."
Isagi let out a long, patient sigh, running a hand through the back of his neck.
"Yuki."
"Yes?" She replied immediately, eyes shining with anticipation.
"Let's change the subject before you say something that'll make me question my life choices." He made a vague gesture ahead. "How about ice cream?"
She blinked… and then broke into a genuinely excited smile.
"Ice cream!" she repeated, as if it were the best idea she'd ever heard. "I accept."
They walked along the main corridor of Cocoon City, passing clothing stores, illuminated display windows, and groups of people chatting animatedly. The smell of sugar and waffle soon revealed the ice cream shop: an open space with a glass counter displaying dozens of flavors, high stools lined up facing the corridor, and some round tables further back, near the large windows overlooking the shopping center's activity.
Yuki spent several full seconds staring at the flavors, completely serious.
"This is an important decision..." she declared. "Don't pressure me."
"I'm starting to think you take everything this seriously..." Isagi commented.
She ended up choosing two flavors—one classic and one unexpectedly extravagant—while Isagi went with the basics. They sat side by side at one of the high tables, their legs almost touching by accident.
The conversation flowed far too easily.
Yuki talked about series she liked, complained about bad endings with dramatic passion, commented on how Masachika always teased her tastes… and gradually spoke more slowly. Closer. More comfortable.
Isagi found himself laughing more than he expected. Not polite laughter, but genuine. She had a strange way of being refined and completely chaotic at the same time, and that… was surprisingly charming.
"…You're smiling..." Yuki suddenly commented, licking her spoon naturally. "That's rare."
"I'm not always that serious, okay?" he replied, though he didn't sound very convinced.
She observed him for a second longer than usual, then looked away, pretending excessive interest in her ice cream.
"So… I'm glad."
When they finished, Yuki stood up first, twirling lightly in place.
"Movie?" she suggested. "Since we're here."
Isagi simply nodded.
"All right."
The theater was partially full when they entered. Low lights, trailers playing, enveloping sound. They sat in the middle of the row. Yuki carefully adjusted her skirt… and, a few minutes later, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she linked both arms around his and rested her head on his shoulder.
Isagi froze for half a second.
Then he relaxed.
Her soft perfume, the gentle warmth of her body against his, the way her fingers lightly tightened on his arm whenever something caught her attention on screen… it all built up in silence.
Yuki, for her part, smiled discreetly at the screen, her heart beating fast, satisfied that he hadn't pulled away.
For a few hours, the world outside simply ceased to matter.
And when the lights came on at the end, neither of them seemed in any real hurry to let go of the other.
The theater lights fully came on, pulling the two out of the small isolated world the movie had created. Yuki blinked a few times before slowly moving away from Isagi's arm, still keeping her fingers intertwined for one second longer than necessary.
"…The ending was better than I expected..." she commented as they stood up. "I thought they'd ruin everything in the last ten minutes."
"I thought so too," Isagi agreed. "But the protagonist's development was consistent. They didn't force unnecessary drama, which in my opinion is pretty annoying..."
Yuki glanced at him sideways, surprised and pleased.
"You paid attention to those things too, huh?" She smiled. "As I thought, Isagi-kun. We really are soulmates! I thought the same thing!"
He cleared his throat, looking away as they left the theater with the rest of the audience.
"Another thing we have in common, then..." he replied, without denying it.
They walked through the brightly lit shopping corridor still discussing specific scenes, Yuki passionately defending secondary characters, Isagi pointing out script flaws here and there. The conversation flowed with a dangerous naturalness—the kind that made time pass far too quickly without them noticing.
It was Isagi who broke the rhythm by stopping in front of a men's clothing store.
"Well..." he said, putting his hands in his pockets. "This is something I needed to do too."
Yuki followed his gaze… and her eyes lit up.
"…Ah, right! I remembered you said you'd take me shopping as thanks for helping with the student council that day. Do you want help?"
"Yes..." he answered without hesitation. "I trust your fashion sense..."
She seemed genuinely touched by that.
"Then leave it to me."
Inside the store, Yuki switched postures again—now not the excited otaku, but someone focused and observant. She analyzed cuts, fabrics, colors, dismissing options with a simple shake of her head and pulling Isagi by the arm when something caught her eye.
"You look better in more subdued colors, but not completely neutral..." she explained, holding a shirt against his chest to compare.
"This one highlights your shoulders… and this?" She wrinkled her nose. "Throw it out."
"You're being very direct..."
"And efficient."
Isagi ended up going into the fitting room more times than he planned. Each time he came out, Yuki evaluated with almost professional attention, walking around him, adjusting the collar, lightly pushing him to fix his posture.
"This one looks perfect," she finally declared, crossing her arms, satisfied. "Take it."
"I've lost count of how many things you've told me to get."
"Great..." she replied without hesitation. "That means I'm doing my job right."
He ended up buying several pieces—shirts, pants, a coat that Yuki insisted he needed, even though he complained he already had similar ones.
When they left the checkout, Isagi looked at the bags… and then at her.
"Now it's my turn."
Yuki blinked.
"…What do you mean?"
"You're going to pick out clothes," he said calmly. "And try them on."
"W-wait—!" She opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when he continued:
"I want to see you in different clothes. It's only fair, since I basically modeled a bunch for you..."
That disarmed any defense she had prepared.
Minutes later, Yuki was in the women's fitting room, holding the first outfit with her face slightly red.
"This is unfair," she murmured behind the door, but quickly recovered her natural elegance as a lady of the Suou family...
She came out wearing a simple dress—too elegant for everyday wear, but perfect for her. Isagi said nothing for a few seconds.
"…That one," was all he said. "Definitely that one."
Yuki felt her heart skip a beat. More followed: a more casual set, something slightly daring, a blouse that left her shoulders exposed. Each time she came out, Isagi observed with sincere attention, without exaggeration, without vulgarity—and that, strangely, made her even more "in love" with him...
In the end, Isagi paid for everything before she could protest again. Yuki held the bags with both hands, clearly in shock.
"…You realize you're spoiling me, right?"
"Would you complain if I stopped?"
She thought for half a second.
"…No."
The two exchanged a silent look, charged with something new...
The sky was already taking on darker tones when they left the shopping center, the crowds gradually thinning as artificial lights took over. Isagi stopped on the sidewalk, took out his phone, and called a taxi with a few quick taps.
Yuki watched from the side, hugging the bags to her chest, visibly satisfied… and tired in a good way.
"Thank you for keeping me company this long," she said in a softer tone than usual. "I'm sleeping at Masachika's tonight. I want to start the manga right away… especially after all this."
"Good choice," Isagi replied. "Knowing you, you wouldn't sleep anyway."
She smiled, guilty.
The taxi arrived shortly after. Isagi opened the back door and gestured for her to get in first. Yuki hesitated for a second, as if saying goodbye to something important, before climbing in.
The taxi stopped gently in front of Masachika's house, in a quiet residential neighborhood lit by low streetlights and the soft glow of windows still on. The silence there was comfortable, very different from the constant buzz of the shopping center.
Isagi got out first. He walked around the car and opened the door for Yuki, as he had naturally done all day.
"We're here," he said.
"Yes…" Yuki replied, stepping out carefully, still hugging the bags full of manga and clothes. "I'll spend the night here. I want to start reading everything tonight, even if I stay up all night."
"I figured," Isagi commented. "Don't overdo it."
"I make no promises."
She took a few steps toward the gate… then stopped.
She turned slowly.
Isagi noticed almost immediately: her posture changed, her gaze gained that mischievous and dangerously confident sparkle. Teasing mode had been activated without warning.
"Isagi-kun," she called, far too sweetly to be innocent.
"Hm?"
Yuki took one more step closer, completely ignoring the curious driver in the front seat. Then, without asking permission, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
It was quick.
Intimate.
"That's a thank you," she said, satisfied… before making a clearly theatrical pout. "But I have a complaint."
"Of course you do," Isagi sighed, already expecting it.
"You didn't turn your face," she said, crossing her arms. "It was the PERFECT moment for that clichéd accidental kiss. You completely ruined the scene."
"…You really think of this like it's a script," he murmured.
"And you really don't know how to seize opportunities," she countered with a mischievous smile. "Good night, Isagi-kun."
Before he could respond, Yuki turned, opened the gate, and walked into the yard, waving over her shoulder without looking back. In a few seconds, she disappeared inside the house.
Isagi stood there for a moment, touching his cheek, feeling the warmth that hadn't faded yet.
The driver cleared his throat.
"Is she your girlfriend?" he asked, chuckling lightly.
Isagi got into the taxi and closed the door calmly.
"No."
"Hmm…" The man shook his head, amused, as he pulled away. "But she's in love."
Isagi let out a slow breath.
"That much I've noticed."
The driver laughed louder this time.
"Then let me give you some unsolicited advice," he said, glancing in the rearview mirror. "Visit the Marriage Shrine in Sukisugi."
Isagi frowned.
"The temple of the God of Love," the man explained, with almost absurd naturalness. "They say it's magical. If you go there… being with the girl you love becomes much easier."
"…Sounds like superstition," Isagi commented.
"It might be," the driver agreed. "But honestly? That place has something special. I've seen people change their lives after a visit."
Isagi rested his arm on the door, looking out as Masachika's house faded behind them.
"…I'll keep that in mind," he said at last.
The driver smiled, satisfied, and continued driving through the quiet streets.
__________________________
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