The tea cooled slowly on the table, but no one seemed to notice. The room, once quiet, now pulsed with a different kind of tension — more intimate, more sharpened.
Provocative fabrics still visible in the corners clashed with the composed posture of those present.
Akihiro felt the weight of the atmosphere — each team member carried their personality like armor… or a weapon.
Mika froze, eyes wide, nearly tripping over the edge of a rug. "W-Whoa! Is this… part of the training?" she stammered, hands clumsily clutching at the air, cheeks blazing.
Sayuri tilted her head with a feline smile, mimicking hand seals with exaggerated elegance—clearly for show. "Of course it is. Emotional resilience training... You'll need to wear this… and maintain your composure."
Mika paled. "M-me? Wear this? But… but I don't even know how!" She looked around, desperate, and started pulling at her shirt with trembling hands. "O-okay! I'll try! I'm a ninja! I can do it!"
Akihiro turned his face away, eyes wide. She's actually going to do it…
Reika let out a theatrical sigh, crossing her arms. "Idiot. It was a joke."
Sayuri laughed softly, her eyes sparkling. "It wasn't a joke. It was a test. And she failed beautifully."
Mika stopped with her shirt halfway off, her face on fire. "I-I failed? But I just wanted… I thought it was serious!"
Reika let out a more exasperated sigh. "It was another prank…"
Mika stammered, "W-what...? B-but... I thought..."
"PffFF—haHAHAHA! oh, Mika, you're absolutely priceless."
Sayuri's laughter intensified into a full-blown cackle, echoing across the tatami and enveloping the room in a playful tension.
Nezuko didn't flinch. She'd seen worse. Or maybe she expected it.
Damn, her eyes didn't judge—they observed. Like she was watching a drama.
Akihiro slowly exhaled, trying not to stare, feeling a subtle heat rise up his neck and the faint sweet scent of Mika's fabric mixing with Sayuri's delicate perfume, almost as if each aroma was a marker of the provocation.
"Sayuri… you were cruel to her."
Sayuri tilted her head, feline smile intact, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Cruel?" she echoed, voice smooth. "I call it… educational."
She approached him.
"Maybe you're jealous? No one's paying attention to me!" she made a mock-crying expression.
"Don't you worry, Sayu-nee-san will take care of the little boy," she said while patting him on the shoulders.
Akihiro froze, not understanding her change in attitude.
What the? WTF?
She was testing reactions, not just teasing. Right?
Nezuko didn't say a word. She just raised one hand, formed a slow circle with her fingers… and slid her other index finger through it.
Her expression didn't change—except for her eyes.
That glint. Playful. Knowing.
Sayuri coughed. Loud. Then stepped back, eyes narrowed, cheeks faintly flushed.
Akihiro didn't move. He didn't need to. The tension did it for him.
Akihiro blinked.
Okay. That was not subtle. Again.
Nezuko let out a low laugh, a surprise to everyone. "This is an emotional training ground for everyone, that includes you, Sayuri."
Sayuri let out a nervous little laugh and shook her head. "S-Sensei, I'm not ready yet," she murmured, crossing her arms over her chest in a gesture simulating childish embarrassment.
"Bold," Reika murmured with a dry laugh.
Sayuri laughed for real this time, a sound that broke the tension.
"Pff, you all take life way too seriously," she retorted, her feline smile returning, "It's just a game."
Mika, as if Sayuri's laughter had freed her, suddenly leaped to her feet.
"Life is for playing! Sayu's right!" she exclaimed, beginning to spin awkwardly in the middle of the hall.
"Let's play! Let's play!" In her chaotic joy, she tripped on her own foot and, with a shriek, fell directly onto Reika. Reika, by reflex, held her with a firm arm and let out a genuine laugh, something rare to see.
"Pathetic. And heavy as a rock," she teased, without letting go of Mika, the laughter still in her voice.
Akihiro, watching the scene, couldn't hold back.
"Is this... is this really proper training, Sensei?" he asked, his voice full of uncertainty.
Nezuko just smiled faintly, a golden glint in her eyes.
"I am the Sensei. And I know what is good for you and what is not," she replied with a softness that seemed more dangerous than a threat.
Sayuri let out a little laugh, her cat-like eyes fixed on Akihiro.
"If Sensei asks, it's okay, isn't it, proper?" she teased him, her voice sweet, but laden with mockery.
Akihiro sighed, defeated. "I'll... I'll try to understand it better, then," he murmured.
Nezuko's smile widened, becoming long and predatory.
"Good boy," she said, and the look she gave him made Akihiro squirm in agony.
Mika, still clinging to Reika, echoed Nezuko's words with shining eyes. "He's a good boy for real! Akihiro is cool!"
Sayuri shook her head, the smile growing. "He's prettier than he is cool."
Reika let out a dry laugh. "He has a good body."
Akihiro, now completely uncomfortable, looked at Nezuko, searching for a way out or an intervention, but the Sensei just smiled, joining in the fun.
"Maybe he has something even more special." She made a gesture with her hands, simulating a large size, the brazen insinuation in her gaze. The three girls burst into laughter, while Akihiro felt the heat rise from his neck to his ears.
"Yeah, the sword is big and cool," Mika said, innocent, still clinging to Reika. "I've never seen anyone use kenjutsu up close!"
Sayuri let out a laugh full of malice, tilting her head. "Yes, very cool. Maybe he should show us better..."
Reika let out a dry and provocative laugh. "How scary..."
Mika blinked, confused. "Huh, but he already showed?"
The girls burst into laughter, and the confusion on Mika's face only grew.
Sensei Nezuko intervened, her voice cutting through the air, but still with a hint of amusement. "A weapon should only be shown when it will be used, Sayuri. Do you want to test it?"
Sayuri laughed, the simulated shame returning to her face. "Oh, Sensei, I can't. I'm too young," she murmured, but her eyes twinkled with humor.
Reika mocked. "She's drooling with desire."
Sayuri looked at her, her eyebrow arched in feigned defiance.
"Maybe you want to test it then?" Nezuko asked Reika.
Reika coughed and looked away.
"I'll test it! Leave it to me!" Mika exclaimed, patting her chest with confidence, making the girls laugh even more. Akihiro choked on his own saliva, and they laughed at Mika's words, who again did not understand what was happening.
Nezuko, leaning against the doorway, quickly murmured a sequence of hand seals, and suddenly, clones identical to her appeared, silent and efficient. Each one began to collect the lingerie pieces scattered on the floor, folding lace and organizing necklines and sheer fabrics into baskets, avoiding any contact with the students.
Mika cringed, paralyzed, trying to look away, her cheeks burning. Sayuri arched an eyebrow, her feline smile intact, as if to say, "See? I don't even need to touch you to make you squirm." Reika huffed, but couldn't suppress a faint sigh of amusement.
Akihiro, meanwhile, remained rigid, unable to completely avert his eyes, feeling the silent chaos and the precise order simultaneously. Each scent, each gesture, and each laugh was a sensory challenge, making the scene absurd, provocative, and hypnotic.
Reika tilted her head, letting out a soft, almost imperceptible chuckle. "Careful, Hyuga boy. Blink once, and she'll convince you she's noticing you noticing."
Her words dripped with tsundere sarcasm, but the subtle way she let her gaze linger, paired with the casual brush of her sleeve against Akihiro, carried a quietly provocative edge.
Sayuri, seated elegantly on a cushion, observed silently for a moment. Then, as Akihiro helped Mika regain her balance, she leaned back slightly, murmuring almost to herself.
Nezuko Kamado, their official sensei, moved with the ease of someone used to commanding attention — while Sayuri, ever the shadow queen, watched and judged from her cushion.
"Watching them… it's like a drama unfolding." Her golden eyes sparkled with mischief.
"And some… moments… are particularly revealing." The faintest note of amusement in her voice hinted at curiosity far beyond simple observation.
The sensei moved through the room, unbothered by the scattered clothing or Mika's clumsiness. "Focus. This is my house. Respect the rules. But also… learn to maintain composure no matter what." Her tone was light, almost playful, but her gaze lingered in ways that made Akihiro's pulse tighten.
As they settled onto the tatami, Mika attempted to sit gracefully but slipped slightly, ending up with her legs in a precarious position near Akihiro. He averted his gaze, trying to keep his composure, feeling the subtle tremor of embarrassment—but also the challenge implicit in remaining calm.
Reika leaned forward, voice dripping with tsundere irritation.
"Ugh, why do I even bother watching? She's hopeless." Yet her eyes flicked to Akihiro, and the faint curve of her smirk suggested that her words were as much a game as a complaint—a hidden layer of flirtation implied without being explicit.
Sayuri tilted her head, letting a soft chuckle escape.
"Yes… watching this… it's like the perfect drama. The tension, the awkwardness… the occasional slip… exquisite."
Her tone was calm, detached, almost narrating, but every word carried a subtle suggestion, a quiet appreciation of the unspoken dynamics playing out in front of her.
Akihiro exhaled, gripping his katana under his thigh.
The room had transformed into a battlefield of distraction and tension, each teammate presenting a different kind of challenge:
Mika's chaotic, clumsy energy; Reika's teasing escalation; Sayuri's observant, narrative seduction; and the sensei's overarching, provocative guidance.
He realized fully: mastering this team wouldn't rely solely on skill—it demanded strategy, mental awareness, restraint under constant temptation, and the ability to navigate both chaos and subtle provocation.
And this… this was only the beginning