The next morning, the first pale threads of sunlight crept through the gap in the curtains and fell across Shikime Natsu's face.
He opened his eyes slowly.
And the very first thing those eyes found — filling his entire field of vision — was a face. Small, exquisitely pretty, and close enough to count every eyelash.
"Good morning~ Natsu."
Sakura Airi had clearly been awake for a little while already.
She was lying draped across his chest, both hands propped under her chin, those vivid blue eyes of hers watching him with a steady, glittering warmth — brimming with pure, unguarded happiness.
She was still wearing the oversized white T-shirt from the night before.
Her sleeping position had left it a little disheveled — the neckline shifted sideways, exposing a generous expanse of fair skin and the delicate lines of her collarbone.
Before Shikime Natsu could even open his mouth to respond —
She had already closed the distance.
Those soft, warm lips pressed lightly against his.
"Good morning, Airi," he said with a smile, reaching out to ruffle the slightly tousled cascade of pink hair spread across his chest.
Sakura Airi asked him to wait for her downstairs while she ducked back to her own dorm to wash up and change. She slipped first into his bathroom, collecting the clothes she'd left behind the night before.
Not a single thing left behind — she took it all with her.
After watching Airi go, Shikime Natsu made quick work of his own morning routine, then started putting together a simple breakfast. Since she'd told him she'd wait downstairs, he kept it easy — just bread.
By the time he stepped out of the building with the bread in hand, Sakura Airi was already waiting at the base of the dormitory. The surrounding path was as deserted as ever — though today, at least, that was a little less unusual. It was still early enough that most students would have only just crawled out of bed, with a comfortable amount of time to spare before class.
"Thanks, Natsu~"
Sakura Airi accepted the bread he held out with an adorable smile, then promptly looped her arm through his.
Shikime Natsu could feel it with perfect clarity — that soft, yielding pressure against his arm.
The particular, devastating kind of softness that only a girl possessed. The kind that made a heartbeat stutter.
Her hair had been a little wild when she'd first gotten up, but she'd clearly taken the time to sort it out properly when she'd gone back to her room. Of course she had. When you were about to see the person you cared about most, you made sure to put your best self forward.
The whole walk there, Sakura Airi chattered away cheerfully, a bright, contented smile never leaving her face.
"Natsu, today is Day Two, you know~"
She glanced over at him with a playful light dancing in those blue eyes.
"Mm. So then..." Shikime Natsu smiled. "What gets unlocked today?"
"It's already unlocked, you know~"
Sakura Airi tightened her hold on his arm — just slightly. He felt the warmth and softness of her press closer against him, the contact unmistakably more deliberate.
Before long, they reached the academic building. The moment to part had arrived.
Sakura Airi cupped his face in both hands, rose onto her tiptoes, and kissed him.
"See you later, Natsu."
She gave him a small, bright wave.
"Mm. See you."
Shikime Natsu smiled, then made his way to Class A.
The moment he stepped through the door, his eyes found a familiar figure.
Kamuro Masumi. As punctual as ever, already in her seat.
"Good morning, Natsu."
The moment she spotted him, a flash of genuine delight lit up those pretty violet eyes of hers. It made waking up this early entirely worth it — she'd come precisely for this. For the privilege of being the first person he saw.
And now she'd gotten exactly that.
It was all worth it.
"Morning, Masumi."
He answered with an easy smile.
The classroom was empty — just the two of them. For a moment, Shikime Natsu almost wondered if today was a weekend, given how few people were around. But Masumi was here and in her seat, which confirmed without question that it was a perfectly ordinary weekday.
The moment she saw him settle into his chair, Kamuro Masumi rose from her seat and crossed the room to stand in front of him.
She reached out. Hooked her arm around the back of his neck. And pulled him into a firm, unrestrained good-morning kiss.
There was no one else in the classroom. Just the two of them, alone in all that quiet space. This was the reward for early risers — and Kamuro Masumi claimed it without the slightest hesitation.
A long moment passed before they parted.
She didn't pull away immediately.
Still leaning close, she tilted her head slightly to one side. That pert little nose of hers dipped toward the curve of his neck — and she breathed in, slow and quiet.
"...As I thought."
"There's someone else's scent on you."
"Sakura-san's, I'd guess?"
Shikime Natsu smiled slightly and gave a small, confirming nod.
"Yes."
He couldn't help but marvel at it, quietly, for what felt like the hundredth time.
A girl's intuition and sense of smell, in moments like these — they really did become something razor-sharp. Detective-level acute.
Not that he'd had any intention of hiding it. He'd already sent Masumi a message last night — hadn't said who, specifically, but it had been obvious enough that it was a girl. That much was beyond question.
Besides. He spent every day around different girls. Having someone else's scent on him was about as remarkable as breathing.
Kamuro Masumi received the confirmation with a quiet nod. So Sakura Airi really had become the second one.
She found herself thinking, not without a touch of private relief, that it had been a good thing she'd made her move when she had. If she'd waited any longer, Sakura Airi would have gotten there first and consumed him entirely. And in just these past few days, the trace of Sakura Airi on him had already grown noticeably stronger.
Had they...?
The thought surfaced, but Masumi's pride kept her from voicing it aloud. Either way — based on what she could already sense, she was fairly certain that right up until the moment he'd walked into this classroom, those two had been together.
...So I wasn't the first to greet him today after all.
I woke up this early. And I still couldn't beat waking up from the same bed.
...
Time passed.
One by one, the rest of their classmates trickled in, and the quiet of the room slowly gave way to the familiar hum of morning chatter.
Shikime Natsu sat at his desk and noticed something — a subtle but unmistakable shift in the air.
The girls who walked in and looked his way.
Their eyes were different today.
Yesterday, more than a few of those glances had carried a faint tinge of wistful regret. That was gone now. What replaced it was something far more ordinary — relaxed, even.
He understood immediately. The Item Card from yesterday had taken effect.
The Harem Permit — it made everyone around him perceive his maintaining a harem as simply natural, simply how things were. Which meant having a girlfriend was no longer something any of them needed to feel conflicted about. After all, they themselves might yet become a part of that world.
Of course, natural didn't mean automatic. The card didn't make anyone fall in love with him. It didn't override personal desires — the private longing to belong to someone completely, to have the person you cared about all to yourself.
People were people. That much would never change.
But even so. For his purposes, this card had done him an enormous favor. Certain complications — marriage, the future, all the knotted social implications that came with it — had quietly resolved themselves.
The day's classes came and went in a blink.
The dismissal bell had barely finished ringing when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
The sender's name stopped him cold.
[Horikita Suzune]
That was... genuinely unexpected.
In his experience, Horikita Suzune was not the sort of person who ever reached out unprompted — and especially not to him. As far as she was concerned, he was, without question, a person of deeply unpleasant character.
Her messaging him first?
The sun rising in the west would have surprised him less.
He tapped it open.
[Horikita Suzune: After school, I'll be waiting at your dorm.]
Short. No explanation.
So she had something she wanted to say to him face to face.
Though — why not a coffee shop? Did she not have the points to spare for a drink, or something?
...Or maybe it was simply that his dorm felt safe. It was, by now, the place she visited most often after school. Having a conversation somewhere familiar made a certain kind of sense.
He typed back a simple [OK].
Then he gathered his things and headed out.
Kamuro Masumi fell into step beside him as naturally as breathing, as she always did — quietly keeping pace.
The two of them walked out of the academic building together, side by side, all the way to the dormitory wing.
At the base of the building, she stopped.
She glanced around, checking their surroundings.
Satisfied that no one was nearby, she turned back and stepped in front of him — blocking his path. She rose onto her tiptoes, cradled his face in both hands, and kissed him goodbye. Long and unhurried.
"Mm..."
Shikime Natsu didn't simply receive it.
He turned the tables entirely, deepening the kiss on his own terms.
Once wasn't enough. So he went back for more.
By the time they finally parted, Kamuro Masumi's face was flushed a warm red, her breathing unsteady, her legs just a touch unsteady beneath her.
They rode the elevator up together. Shikime Natsu stepped off at his floor.
"Bye, Masumi."
"Mm. Bye."
A quiet exchange, and then he made his way down the corridor toward his room.
Even from a distance, he spotted her immediately.
Standing outside his door — arms crossed, a small bag hanging from one hand — was Horikita Suzune.
She was in her school uniform. That sleek black hair fell straight down her back, and her expression was its usual cool, composed mask — not a flicker of warmth in it.
She heard his footsteps.
She turned. Those sharp, red eyes found him.
"You're back."
The words, taken alone, had a vaguely domestic quality — the sort of thing a wife might say, waiting for her husband to come home. But Horikita Suzune's tone held not even a trace of that.
"Mm."
Shikime Natsu walked over. He pulled out his key and unlocked the door, asking casually as he did:
"What brings you here out of nowhere? Something important?"
She was about to answer when he pushed the door open and stepped aside, gesturing inside.
"Come in first. We can talk inside."
Horikita Suzune gave a small nod and didn't argue.
She supposed that made sense.
She had been coming and going from Shikime Natsu's dorm regularly for her maid duties these past weeks — but she'd always been careful, and luck had been on her side. Not once had anyone seen her.
Something of a miracle, really.
They stepped inside. The door closed behind them.
Shikime Natsu turned and looked at the bag she was carrying.
The same bag she always brought when she came for her maid duties. The top was slightly open — and through the gap, unmistakably familiar black and white fabric peeked out.
The maid outfit.
"I didn't realize you were so eager, Horikita. Coming all the way over here on your own, so impatient to serve me?"
Honestly, he hadn't expected her to bring the outfit at all. He'd assumed she was simply here to talk. But since she had brought it...
Her motivations were clearly not quite as simple as she'd implied.
Because if they were — if she'd really just come to chat — there was absolutely no way that Horikita Suzune, with her rigid pride and stubborn dignity, would have voluntarily packed the maid outfit and carried it here herself.
On an ordinary day, being made to wear the thing at all was already an exercise in visible reluctance.
Bringing it of her own accord?
That was practically self-inflicted torment.
At his words, something in Horikita Suzune's expression stiffened, ever so slightly.
She spoke in her usual cool, detached tone:
"If you'd rather I didn't, then forget it."
"I simply noticed that you hadn't summoned me these past few days... and I didn't want to leave a debt outstanding. That's all."
"I agreed to a month of service. I'm not going to go back on that."
The words were perfectly composed. Perfectly reasonable-sounding.
But Shikime Natsu watched the way her gaze slid just slightly to one side as she said it, and he knew immediately — that was not why she was here today.
Doesn't want a debt outstanding?
Please.
If he'd gone another week without calling for her, Horikita Suzune would have been perfectly happy to count herself lucky and avoid the whole thing for as long as possible.
But he didn't say any of that.
He simply smiled — letting it go — and walked over to the chair by his desk. He sat down, settled comfortably into the backrest, and gave her a light, unhurried wave.
"Well then. Since you're here, let's get started."
"It has been a while since I've had the pleasure of Horikita's handiwork."
"My shoulders have been a bit sore lately."
Horikita Suzune pressed her lips together, said nothing, picked up the bag, and disappeared into the bathroom.
A few minutes later.
She walked back out — dressed in the black-and-white maid uniform.
Her expression remained as frigid as ever. But somehow, that particular combination — the cutesy, delicate outfit against that haughty, untouchable face — created a peculiar, irresistible contrast. The gap between the two was its own kind of appeal.
She moved to stand behind him.
Both hands came down on his shoulders.
She began to knead.
"...Hss."
Shikime Natsu let his eyes drift half-shut, quietly sinking into the attention.
He had to admit — whatever Horikita Suzune's mouth might say about not wanting to be here, her hands didn't match. The pressure was solid, deliberate. And after all these sessions, her technique had genuinely improved from those early stiff, unpracticed efforts.
Though...
Compared to the feeling from that morning — Sakura Airi pressing her arm against his, that impossibly soft sensation like sinking into something warm and yielding...
Horikita's massage still fell a bit short, objectively speaking.
The room settled into silence.
Horikita Suzune kept her mouth shut. Not a single word. Just focused, determined effort.
A good twenty minutes or so passed.
Shikime Natsu noticed, gradually, that the pressure of those hands on his shoulders had started to wane.
So.
She'd hit her limit.
A small pity — if she'd been in a relationship with him, he could have used his abilities to improve her physical stamina. But they weren't, and that particular skill wasn't available to her.
He smiled lightly.
"If you're tired, you can take a break."
At those words, the hands on his shoulders faltered for just a beat.
Horikita Suzune looked at the back of his head with something faintly resembling surprise.
Of all things...
This infuriating, unpleasant person — acting almost like a reasonable human being?
She'd honestly expected him to wring every last drop out of her like some heartless taskmaster.
"...Since you put it that way."
She drew back her tired hands and gave them a quiet shake.
"Then I won't argue."
She moved to the chair nearby and sat down. A moment's rest.
Quiet settled over the room again.
Horikita Suzune stared at Shikime Natsu — still sitting there with that utterly composed, unhurried expression, showing absolutely no sign of intending to bring anything up on his own — and felt an edge of irritation beginning to creep in.
This person...
Has he actually gone dense on me?
Does he really think the only reason she went out of her way to come here — bringing the maid outfit, no less — was to give him a shoulder massage?
That's not even remotely plausible!
But looking at that face of his — that placidly unhelpful you'll have to tell me yourself expression —
Horikita Suzune finally ran out of patience.
She drew in a long breath. Lifted her head. Those red eyes met his directly, her voice carrying deliberate gravity:
"Actually..."
"There's something else I came here to tell you today."
Shikime Natsu raised an eyebrow and turned to face her, a trace of unsurprised amusement at the corner of his mouth.
"Oh?"
"What is it?"
Horikita Suzune pressed her lips together briefly. Then she abandoned any attempt at circling around it and came straight to the point.
"It's about friends."
"I've done it."
"Right now... I'm already friends with Mei-chan and Airi."
As she said it, there was something in her voice — almost imperceptible, but unmistakably present. A thread of quiet pride.
Because it was, for her, a genuine achievement.
For someone who had lived her entire life by the doctrine of absolute self-sufficiency — going it alone, needing no one — to have taken the initiative, reached out to two people, and built real connections with them in such a short span of time...
That was an enormous leap.
Shikime Natsu gave a small, unhurried nod.
"I know."
"Congratulations."
"Looks like you really did put in the effort."
The words were congratulatory. His internal thoughts were somewhat less generous.
Sakura Airi and Mei-Yu Wang — genuinely, truly, what a saintly pair.
Having to befriend someone with a personality as uniquely thorny as Horikita Suzune's... the patience that must have taken. The sheer, unrelenting tolerance.
That's not friendship. That's a spiritual practice.
Hearing his affirmation, Horikita Suzune didn't smile.
If anything, her expression grew more serious — carrying an edge of unmistakable urgency.
"So then..."
"There's only one person left."
"I want to know..."
"What exactly do I need to do, right now, to become your friend?"
She couldn't afford not to be earnest. She couldn't afford to drag her feet.
Because there was less than a week left before the deadline.
If she couldn't manage to win over the most difficult person in this final stretch — the one sitting right in front of her — then everything she'd worked for up to this point would crumble to nothing.
She had to.
Before the final deadline arrived, she had to complete the task that both Shikime Natsu and her brother had set before her.
It had started as a task. But... at the very least, she genuinely did consider Sakura Airi and Mei-Yu Wang her friends now. She had learned, in some small way, how to lean on someone else. For a girl who had always stood entirely alone, that counted as a monumental change.
____
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