"Kanroji-san, please give me back my phone!"
Gritting her teeth, Katsura Kotonoha suddenly summoned the courage to glare at the girl. She'd always been gentle, not someone who angered easily—usually thinking if she just endured, it would pass. But Kanroji Nanami's behavior had crossed her bottom line; even a clay figurine has three fires. Much less someone with Kotonoha's potential to "blacken."
A pressure born of years of kendo practice surged off her, sharp and cutting. Nanami actually flinched, her body stiffening. She wavered. She hadn't expected Kotonoha to be so terrifying when angry.
But backing down would be humiliating; she'd lose face and be laughed at by her classmates—then she'd no longer control the class narrative.
"Mm, it's not like I can't return it. Lend it to me for a bit—my phone's out of battery. I'll give it back this afternoon, alright?" Nanami said with feigned calm and bad intentions. In truth, she was a paper tiger.
Kotonoha's hard-won resolve faltered. "But… I need my phone too…" she said pitifully.
"Relax, relax." Nanami patted her shoulder with fake friendliness. "I'm not doing anything bad—just chatting. Besides, you want to clear up the class's misunderstandings, right? It's not like there's anything bad on your phone, is there?"
"Of course not!" Kotonoha shook her head quickly.
"Then it's fine. I'll check it and help explain to everyone—your situation will improve."
"Th-that… is that okay?"
Those big, limpid eyes peered up at her, so earnest that even Nanami felt a twinge—if a girl found it disarming, no wonder her boyfriend had. Forcing a smile through growing irritation, Nanami nodded. "Of course."
Uneasy, Kotonoha pinched the hem of her skirt. "Then… I'll lend it to you for now. But you have to return it before the end of the day."
"No problem, I'll return it," Nanami thumped her chest in assurance.
Phone in hand, Nanami swaggered up to the roof with her three friends. Then she clutched her belly and burst into laughter.
"Hahaha—did you see that? That slut actually believed me!"
Obuchi Minami, Koizumi Natsumi, and Mori Kumi all thought the wording was off, but to preserve "sisterly harmony," they chimed in anyway.
"Yeah, super flirty—those puppy-dog eyes you got from her."
"That's how she reels the guys in!"
"So, Nanami, what now? Anything good in there?"
Nanami swiped through—and pouted. "Nothing. Not a single photo. Damn it—she came prepared."
They didn't know Kotonoha had two phones. The one she'd handed over was a spare, used for calls and family only. She didn't like selfies, so there was nothing to find. The other phone was at home, used by her younger sister Kokoro. Precisely because there was nothing important on it, Kotonoha had held back from blowing up—wanting to test whether Nanami might actually "help explain" for her.
Koizumi clicked her tongue. "So you snatched it for nothing?"
Nanami snorted. "There's the contact for her 'flirting partner.' Let's make sure she really flirts."
She opened the address book, tapped the conspicuous "Hayashi Maki," and drafted a message. A moment later, Hayashi Maki received a text "from Katsura Kotonoha":
Katsura: "Maki-kun, I want to do it this afternoon—can you? Want to squeeze my chest?"
Hayashi Maki's eyes widened—and he immediately sensed something was off. Kotonoha would never say that. Which bastard had gotten her phone and was trying to mess with him?
Closing his eyes, he used the passive tied to his wishers and slipped into "God's-eye view"—a mode that let him observe what was happening around a wisher. After all, a wisher was effectively a preliminary contracted familiar; when a wish came straight to him like this, he could see even more of her situation.
Moments later, Hayashi Maki clenched his fist and gave a cold smile. "I see—Kanroji Nanami's little clique, huh?"
Honestly, she wasn't worthy of the name "Nanami"—he admired Aoyama Nanami upstairs, and this Kanroji, wearing the same name while bullying others, was shameless.
He didn't waste words. He replied at once:
Hayashi Maki: "Kanroji Nanami, right? I already know what's going on. Return the phone to Katsura immediately and delete all the message history—or bear the consequences. I'll deal with this after school."
The four girls exchanged looks, faces paling—especially Nanami, who went chalk-white.
"What the hell? How does he know it's me? Did that slut Kotonoha already know I was bad-mouthing her? Impossible!"
She was popular—today she'd acted a bit like a mini-delinquent, but everyone was used to her snide jokes at Kotonoha's expense; no one found it strange. Yet this Hayashi Maki had called her by name, told her to return the phone… terrifying.
As she panicked, the phone buzzed again:
Hayashi Maki: "Let me see… Kanroji Nanami, Obuchi Minami, Koizumi Natsumi, Mori Kumi—right? All girls, huh. My palm hasn't met a girl's cheek yet. Maybe today's a first."
Obuchi, Koizumi, and Mori turned ashen.
"Nanami, you insisted—this has nothing to do with me!" Koizumi blurted, hands up.
Nanami gaped at her fair-weather "sister."
"Yeah, I didn't take part either—Nanami, you did it, you take responsibility!" Kobuchi added in a hurry.
Mori backed away with them, putting distance between herself and Nanami.
Nanami let out a bitter laugh. "All me, huh? Without your support I couldn't have done it. You thought I was right, remember? Cut the crap—if I'm getting hit, you're getting hit with me. And I'm not scared—I'll get my upperclassman."
At the mention of the baseball-club senpai, the three girls forced awkward laughs.
"Haha, just kidding. Of course we'll shoulder it together—we're good friends, right?"
Nanami rolled her eyes. "Good you understand. If I go down, you're not escaping."
The phone buzzed again. All four glanced at it on reflex.
Hayashi Maki: "Good. I see you've decided to be wrong to the end. Bully Kotonoha, and prepare for punishment."
Nanami curled her lip and shot back:
Nanami (posing as Kotonoha): "I am Kotonoha. Don't you want to do that? My chest is huge—men like that, right?"
She made sure Koizumi and the others snapped a pic—another rumor fodder created.
Watching through God's-eye view, Hayashi Maki let out a breathy laugh of anger. Perfect. He hadn't expected girls to be this nasty. Compared to them, he felt downright virtuous for a "demon." Even now, he didn't plan on killing anyone—but punishment was non-negotiable.
~~~
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