"You… what are you doing here?! What are you trying to pull?!"
Even though Masaru Ooshika was echoing her words, he was infinitely more irritating than Rai Hikaru.
At least Rai Hikaru, cold and indifferent though he was, was handsome. Natsuka had been impressed the first time she saw him, which was why she had spent so much effort trying to draw out his attention, to prove her charm.
Masaru, on the other hand, was ugly. His dyed yellow hair and the constant lecherous smirk made him nauseating by comparison.
Facing Natsuka's wary glare, Masaru licked his lips and grinned. "Hey, hey, hey… I just want to be friends, Shinonome. No need to be so hostile, right? Just give me your contact info, then I'll leave. Okay?"
Natsuka's brain was not entirely mush. Seeing him inch closer with that cocky grin, she shouted, "Get lost! Stay away from me! I'm not giving you my contact info. Take a look in the mirror—look at yourself! I could never like someone as lecherous as you… and as ugly!"
Masaru's face darkened instantly. This was a real, honest-to-God blow to his ego. Worse, it was the truth. His shallow composure cracked.
"Hey! You—stupid woman! What are you saying?!"
"You filthy bitch! Deep down, Shinonome Natsuka, you're a lewd little slut, aren't you?!"
"I've been watching you! You act all innocent and high-class on the surface, but inside… you're dirtier than anyone else, right?"
"Your so-called childhood friend, Yamano Yuta… he could never satisfy you, you filthy slut!"
"Childhood friend? Secret engagement? Ha! Don't make me laugh!"
"Only I—only I, Masaru Ooshika—can satisfy a perverted little slut like you, Shinonome!"
"Other men? Never! Just come with me, Masaru Ooshika!"
As he spoke, he took another step forward.
"Lies! You're talking nonsense! I am not perverted!"
"You—what are you babbling about?!"
Natsuka instinctively shouted back at his insults, but her voice lacked its usual strength. It sounded pale, almost as if something had struck a nerve deep inside her.
Her momentary distraction lasted until Masaru was within five or six meters.
Confronted with his ugly, snarling face, even Shinonome Natsuka—trained in Aikido, capable in combat—shivered, forgetting how to resist.
Her ingrained Aikido reflexes, long etched into her body, seemed to fail entirely in the face of Masaru's approach.
She couldn't understand it. Why was she suddenly so weak?
Was he hitting some filthy, hidden nerve inside her?
Then her eyes fell on the water bottle in her hand—the one Rai Hikaru had just handed her.
Thinking of Rai Hikaru somehow lent her courage.
She lifted the plastic bottle with all her might and hurled it toward Masaru, still five or six meters away.
"Die!!!"
Yelling, she failed to notice that the cap was loose. The water gushed out as soon as the bottle left her hands.
The sudden splash made Masaru pause, and some of the water hit his eyes.
But some of it splashed back onto Natsuka herself, dampening the front of her JK uniform blouse.
Though the fabric was decent enough not to soak through or reveal anything, the wet sensation made her flinch.
Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around her chest, clutching herself to avoid any accidental exposure.
Masaru, initially startled by the bottle, relaxed when he realized it wasn't dangerous—just water in his eyes.
Seeing Natsuka hugging herself and trembling so pathetically, his lips curled into a smug, self-satisfied smile.
Even though the wet shirt revealed nothing, watching her shiver like that was enough to make him feel a twisted sense of pleasure.
He took another step forward, emboldened.
By rational logic, Natsuka should have used her Aikido skills now, while her clothes weren't fully wet, to easily subdue this weak yellow-haired delinquent.
Yet here she was, trembling like a frightened seven- or eight-year-old, hugging herself tightly, whispering the classic terrified phrases:
"Don't come closer…""Go away…"
Masaru kept moving forward, taunting her with words, trying to break her resolve.
"Shinonome, your shirt's wet—come home with me.""You don't want anyone seeing you like this, do you?"
For a moment, Natsuka wavered. I… I really don't want anyone seeing me like this…
Then, an image suddenly flashed through her mind.
No! I can't! Rai-kun already looks down on me… if I give in now, I'll never hold my head high in front of him!No! I can't agree! Masaru is up to no good—he's trying to trick me into going to his place!
Her mind cleared.
"Masaru! You bastard, get lost!!!"
She shouted, facing the approaching delinquent.
Masaru, who had thought she was ready to bend, was momentarily taken aback.
But he wasn't Natsuka. Being a yellow-haired delinquent, persistence was in his nature, and he quickly recovered.
"The more you yell, the more excited I get. You're already powerless to resist, Shinonome!"
His flippant grin was unshakable. Her shouts had no effect—only fueled his excitement.
Then, suddenly, a voice—seemingly ordinary to others, but deafening in Masaru's ears—cut through the tension:
"Masaru Ooshika! Get away from Shinonome!!!"
It felt as if someone had shoved a thick ear-cleaning rod into his ear and was violently twisting it around. Pain and ringing overwhelmed him.
Masaru, who had been unstoppable despite Natsuka's protests, froze completely, like a straw doll.
Natsuka heard it too, but far less intensely.
She turned instinctively toward the sound, and saw a man—so ridiculously handsome it almost didn't seem real—walking toward her from the public area.
No white horse, no rainbow clouds—but her mind had already auto-enhanced the scene.
This man was her rescuer, a flawless prince coming to save her, the pure princess trapped in danger…
Though she had seen Rai Hikaru's face countless times before, this moment made it feel magnetic, captivating.
Her pinkish-red eyes seemed to form a tiny, inexplicable heart shape.
Rai Hikaru didn't notice. (If he did, he'd think: 'You're no pure princess—you're a unicorn being ridden…')
And Natsuka, lost in her fantasy, didn't notice either.
Rai Hikaru had come out of the bathroom without glancing at her at all. His gaze was entirely fixed on Masaru's yellow hair and grotesque face below it.