Kosaka Daisuke moved with commendable efficiency. Armed with the irrefutable evidence Hozuki Nozomi had provided, Endo and his two accomplices were formally charged with extortion and robbery. The wheels of justice turned swiftly.
After summoning their parents to the station, Kosaka Daisuke delivered a thorough and blistering lecture on parental responsibility. Endo's father and the other two parents could do little but bow repeatedly, murmuring apologies and promising to discipline their sons properly. They offered financial compensation to the victim—anything to make this go away quietly. A public scandal would jeopardize their sons' education and, more pressingly, their own positions at work.
Kosaka Daisuke informed them, with grim satisfaction, that the victim had refused all settlement offers.
The evidence was conclusive. There would be no sweeping this under the rug. The parents could only accept defeat and pray the damage wasn't total.
It was a bitter irony: Endo and his companions had become delinquents largely because their parents had been too preoccupied or too permissive to intervene. Now those same parents reaped what they'd sown.
The next morning, Asada Shino walked into school and immediately sensed a shift in the atmosphere.
Endo and his cronies had become infamous overnight. Whispers followed her down the hallway—not about her, for once, but about them. Students clustered in small groups, exchanging shocked murmurs about the criminals in their midst. Those previously associated with Endo now found themselves on the receiving end of suspicious, wary glances.
When a wall falls, everyone pushes.
It became clear, in the ensuing conversations, that Asada Shino hadn't been their only victim. Other students, emboldened by the exposure began sharing their own stories of intimidation and theft. The dam had broken.
Within hours, Endo and his companions became cautionary tales—poster children for bad behavior, effectively ostracized from the student body. Though their crimes weren't severe enough for lengthy imprisonment, detention was unavoidable. And the public reprimand, delivered personally by the principal during morning assembly, ensured everyone understood exactly what they'd done.
The principal's voice carried through the auditorium as he expressed his profound disappointment and urged students to learn from this ugly example. Rumors circulated that once Endo and the others completed their detention, the school would strongly suggest they withdraw or transfer.
Few expected them to show their faces again.
Asada Shino observed it all with a quiet, unfamiliar warmth blooming in her chest.
If Hozuki Nozomi hadn't stepped in, she would have suffered in silence. She would have handed over her money, endured the humiliation, and added another scar to her already wounded psyche. Instead, Endo and his gang faced real consequences.
As for Shinkawa Kyouji—the alleged mastermind—he hadn't appeared at school today. His messages had stopped. His calls had ceased. He'd simply... vanished from her life.
Asada Shino felt only relief.
She didn't know, couldn't know, that Shinkawa Kyouji had been permanently removed from existence. Hozuki Nozomi had seen to that. Scum like him didn't deserve second chances; they deserved early termination.
But Asada Shino wasn't naive. She understood perfectly that her current reprieve, the justice served, the weight lifted—all of it traced back to one person. Hozuki Nozomi had given her something she'd forgotten existed: hope.
More than that, he'd shown her that she wasn't doomed to be a perpetual victim. If she'd had a voice recorder that day, if she'd known how to protect herself, perhaps she could have fought back sooner. The thought was empowering—and terrifying. Change was hard. Growing stronger took time. But for the first time in years, Asada Shino felt like she was moving forward instead of just surviving.
She still didn't expect much from friendship. Shinkawa Kyouji's betrayal had burned that bridge thoroughly. But Hozuki Nozomi... he was different. Worth trusting. Worth knowing.
His kindness, his gentle demeanor, the way he'd looked at her without fear or judgment—she wanted more of that. Even if she wasn't sure what "more" meant yet.
Three years in the past, morning light filtered through the windows of Miyamizu Shrine.
Miyamizu Mitsuha woke slowly, blinking at the familiar ceiling. Her hand didn't automatically drift to her chest—a habit she'd unconsciously developed during Hozuki Nozomi's possessions. When she realized she was alone in her own body, a strange emotion flickered through her.
Disappointment.
"No body-swapping today?" she murmured, sitting up. "Huh."
She was, she admitted to herself, a little disappointed. The prospect of another day in Tokyo, drinking coffee with Shiina Mahiru, eating exquisite desserts that someone else's stomach would process—it had been oddly appealing. Hozuki Nozomi's body could handle the calories. Hers certainly couldn't.
But as she rose and began her morning routine, she found she wasn't truly upset. The past few days, thanks to Hozuki Nozomi's intervention in her life, she'd become genuinely popular at school. People looked at her differently now—with admiration instead of suspicion. The experience had crystallized her determination: she would go to Tokyo after graduation.
She would find Hozuki Nozomi in person.
She would properly befriend him.
And she would definitely, absolutely denounce him for being a pervert. Every time he'd inhabited her body, he'd—she crossed her arms protectively over her chest, face flushing—done things. Terrible things. Wonderful things? No! Terrible things!
Opening her desk drawer, she pulled out her savings and counted carefully. The stack was... insufficient. Discouraging.
But the shrine festival was approaching. If she worked extra hours crafting blessing items, they'd sell well. Grandma always said her workmanship was good. With the proceeds, she'd have enough for a trip to Tokyo.
She even knew where to go: Sakura Dormitory. She remembered the address clearly from her time in Hozuki Nozomi's body. The surroundings were familiar too, etched into her memory alongside the faces of those incredible girls who somehow all loved the same man without tearing each other apart.
How did they do that? How did they coexist so harmoniously? It defied logic.
On the road to school, Miyamizu Mitsuha encountered the familiar sight of Teshigawara Katsuhiko cycling with Natori Sayaka perched on the back. They fell into step together.
"Yo, Mitsuha!" Teshigawara eyed her hairstyle appraisingly. "Judging by your look... the divine envoy didn't come today?"
Miyamizu Mitsuha raised an eyebrow. "What, Teshigawara, are you saying you don't want to see the real me?"
Divine envoy. That philandering pretty boy from Tokyo had somehow convinced her friends he was a divine messenger. And they'd believed him! It was absurd.
Though... she had to admit, she didn't fully understand the soul-swapping phenomenon either. Shiina Mahiru and the others had implied Hozuki Nozomi was unusual, and the residents of Sakura Dormitory—Frieren, Fern—seemed distinctly extraordinary.
"Hehe, it's not that I don't want to see you, Mitsuha." Teshigawara's expression turned wistful. "It's just that the divine envoy was so much cooler than you. And he said he needed our help, but we haven't heard anything since!"
As a supernatural enthusiast, Teshigawara had been beside himself with excitement. Actual miracles! Real magic! He'd even tested his protective talisman—and discovered, to his horror, that it actually worked. The talisman had dissolved in the process, leaving him with proof that magic existed and deep regret that he'd wasted it on an experiment.
Now he desperately wanted another one.
Miyamizu Mitsuha rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm. "What kind of help would he possibly need from you?"
Based on her limited experience inhabiting Hozuki Nozomi's body, his daily routine consisted of: being adored by beautiful women, eating delicious food, being adored by more beautiful women, and occasionally going to school. It was practically a king's existence.
How did those girls manage not to be jealous? How did they coexist so peacefully, sharing one man without apparent conflict? It was a mystery she couldn't solve.
She would understand eventually. The reason harems could coexist harmoniously was something she'd learn firsthand—in time.