The screen displayed a preview of a new message from someone labeled "Machida sonoko":
Machida sonoko: Kasumi Utako-sensei, the sales for Volume 2 of *Love Metronome* are still far from ideal…
(*Love Metronome*? Is that the novel Kasumigaoka-senpai writes?)
Without hesitation, Yuma gently took the phone from her frozen hand.
Her skin felt slightly cool to the touch, with an almost imperceptible tremor—the real physiological reaction she'd had just before time stopped.
He quickly unlocked the phone and opened the chat with "Machida sonoko."
The latest long message appeared:
Machida Enoko: Kasumi Utako-sensei, sales for Volume 2 of *Love Metronome* remain disappointing—far below the editorial department's expectations.
If there's no improvement next week or a decisive shift in the story direction, I'm afraid… we'll have to consider axing it.
I know how much you've poured into this work, but reality is harsh. Please… prepare yourself mentally.
(Axed?!)
Yuma's pupils contracted.
He hadn't expected to see something like this.
For a creator, having their work canceled was a devastating blow.
He swiftly scrolled up through the previous messages.
Editor Machida sonoko's tone had always been gentle and encouraging, but the growing concern over *Love Metronome*'s persistently low sales was clear.
Kasumigaoka Utaha's replies, meanwhile, had grown shorter and more evasive—her stress and anxiety palpable.
(So that's it… Even the proud, unattainable genius senpai is facing something like this?)
For the haughty Kasumigaoka Utaha, this wasn't quite lifelong blackmail material, but it was certainly a vulnerability she'd want kept secret.
*"Kasumigaoka-senpai, you wouldn't want people to know you're a novelist facing cancellation, right?"*
*"Who'd have thought Yuqiu Academy's untouchable flower, Kasumigaoka Utaha, is secretly a failing author."*
Of course, he'd never actually say such things—but that didn't mean the information was useless.
With that in mind, he quickly screenshot the chat between Kasumigaoka Utaha and Machida sonoko, saved them, and emailed them to himself.
After confirming receipt, he carefully deleted the sent records and screenshots from her phone, leaving no trace, then gently placed the device back in her hand, adjusting her pose before stepping back to his original position.
[Time Restart]
Time resumed.
Kasumigaoka Utaha's body swayed almost imperceptibly, as if the weight of the message had transferred through the phone.
Her face visibly paled; much of the sharp intensity from her earlier questioning had drained away, replaced by poorly concealed panic and heaviness.
She even forgot to put the phone away immediately, staring blankly at the screen.
"…Anyway," she tried to refocus, but her voice lacked its former strength and carried a faint tremor. "That thing earlier… if it was you…"
She couldn't finish—her mind was completely overtaken by the news about her work's fate.
Yuma took in every reaction, fully aware of the situation.
He promptly adopted an even more concerned expression:
"Kasumigaoka-senpai? Are you all right? You suddenly look pale. Did you get bad news? Do you need help?"
His concern sounded utterly genuine—because he did, in fact, know she'd received bad news.
Kasumigaoka Utaha snapped back to reality, hurriedly shoving the phone into her pocket. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, but the turmoil in her eyes couldn't be fully hidden.
She glanced at Yuma; suspicion lingered, but it seemed diluted by stronger personal emotions.
[Name: Kasumigaoka Utaha]
[Affection: 18 → 25 (Suspicion remains, but her mind is disturbed by more important matters)]
"No… it's nothing." She turned her head away, avoiding his gaze, voice dry. "Just a personal matter."
Kasumigaoka Utaha appeared to have lost interest in pursuing her questions; right now she only wanted somewhere private to process the terrible news.
"Maybe… I was just tired and imagined it." She said hastily—more to convince herself than him.
"…Congratulations on your successful speech."
With that, she turned and walked away almost listlessly. Compared to her earlier elegant composure, her retreating figure now carried a hint of disarray and dejection.
Watching her visibly shaken back and the faint lingering white-orchid scent in the air, a bolder idea suddenly formed in Yuma's mind.
Waiting passively for suspicion to fade was too slow and uncertain. Better to seize control himself.
More importantly, the explosive time replenishment from their "intimate contact" during the morning time stop had left him craving more.
To gain freely usable time, he needed a stable replenishment source.
Kasumigaoka Utaha—this proud senpai—was undoubtedly a highly valuable target.
And knowing her secret gave him some leverage against potential resistance.
So Yuma didn't hesitate.
[Time Stop]
He activated time stop again, tore a small strip from his notebook, and quickly scribbled a few words:
"I know what happened to you. If you want details, come to the old school building's music room after school."
No signature; the handwriting deliberately disguised.
He hurried to Kasumigaoka Utaha's classroom, slipped the note under her pencil case, then returned to his previous spot and regulated his breathing.
Thanks to the large replenishment earlier, he didn't need to worry about running out even for something like this.
[Time Restart]
Putting the note directly in her pocket would have been more mysterious, but since they'd just parted, doing so would practically confess.
Placing it at her desk, on the other hand, gave him an alibi.
As for whether she could trace it back to him…
If someone with his level of powers could still be discovered, he might as well buy insurance and sink himself in Tokyo Bay.
Glancing back at the somewhat dazed black-stockinged senpai, the corner of Yuma's mouth curved upward.
(The seed is planted…)
All he had to do now was wait until after school.
.
.
.
.
The afternoon dismissal bell echoed through Yuqiu High School's campus.
Kasumigaoka Utaha sat at her desk, absentmindedly packing her bag.
The editor's message weighed on her heart like a heavy stone, leaving her unsettled all day.
(Canceled…)
The word looped in her mind like a curse.
When she'd first submitted it, *Love Metronome* had been highly anticipated—beautiful prose, delicate emotions. Even if it wasn't perfectly commercial, it shouldn't have fallen to the point of cancellation.
Head office had suggested promoting her as a "beautiful high school novelist," but Kasumigaoka Utaha refused to use such a cheap gimmick to attract fans uninterested in her actual work.
She reached for her pencil case to put it in her bag—and suddenly noticed a small folded note tucked beneath it.
(What's this?)
Frowning slightly, she unfolded it.
The unfamiliar handwriting made her heart skip a beat:
"I know what happened to you. If you want to understand the details, come to the old school building's music room after school."
No signature—just a flat, confident tone that brooked no doubt.
(What happened to me… does he mean this morning's incident?!)
Her fingertips trembled slightly; the words seemed to burn.
(He knows the details? Or… is he the one who did it?)
All day, aside from the sudden climax that morning and heading to the welcome ceremony, she'd mostly stayed at her desk with no suspicious visitors.
That meant the only possibility was that while she was confronting Yuma, someone had slipped the note here—without anyone in the classroom noticing.
A chill crawled up her spine, yet intertwined with it was a strange thrill of being controlled.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.
(The old school building's music room…)
It was remote; almost no one went there after school.
Choosing that location clearly meant avoiding attention.
Her hesitation lasted only a moment—intense unease and even stronger curiosity drove Kasumigaoka Utaha.
She had to go.
She needed to know how much the other person knew—and what they wanted.
Clutching the note tightly, she grabbed her bag and headed toward the old school building with slightly hurried steps.
Of course, just in case, she kept her ever-present pepper spray ready in her hand.
...
The setting sun stretched Kasumigaoka Utaha's shadow long across the floor. Her loafers clicked clearly in the empty old school building hallway.
Following the note's instructions, she found the music room.
The door was ajar; inside was silent.
She paused at the entrance, confirming no one was following, then gently pushed it open.
"Creak—"
The long-unmaintained door emitted a faint groan.
The room was dim; sunset light filtered through dusty windows, casting mottled patches on the dust-covered floor.
Abandoned sheet music lay scattered, a broken piano and a few chairs haphazardly piled in the corner.
Empty.
(He's not here yet? Or… am I being played?)
The instant she stepped cautiously inside, filled with doubt—
[Time Stop]
The world instantly fell into absolute stillness and gray-white silence.
Yuma, who had been waiting behind the piano for some time, stood up, holding a black silk scarf he'd prepared.
He walked to Kasumigaoka Utaha, looked at her wary eyes, and gently but swiftly covered them with the scarf, tying a neat knot behind her head.
Stepping back two paces, he admired his handiwork.
The girl remained frozen mid-step into the room, body slightly leaned forward. Those ruby-like beautiful eyes were completely covered by the black scarf.
The dark silk contrasted sharply with her snow-white skin, adding an air of mystery and vulnerability.
(Perfect.)
Yuma nodded in satisfaction.
Blindfolding her not only hid his identity but maximized her inner unease and fear.
In total ignorance and darkness, a person was far easier to guide and control.
He walked to the classroom door, gently closed it, and locked it from the inside. Then he pulled over a relatively clean chair and placed it in the center of the room.
Next, he supported Kasumigaoka Utaha's stiff body and slowly guided her to sit down on the chair.
After doing all this, Yuma retreated back into the shadows and released the time stop.
[Time restart]
Time began to flow again.
Kasumigaoka Utaha only felt her vision plunge into sudden darkness—her sight was completely taken away!
Not only that, she realized she was somehow already sitting on a chair. Just a moment ago she had only just entered the music room.
"Mmm…!"
She let out a short, startled cry and instinctively tried to reach up to pull off whatever was covering her eyes—only to find both her wrists being gently but firmly held from behind.
The strength wasn't brutal, but it was more than enough to stop her movements.
Fear instantly gripped Kasumigaoka Utaha.
"Who?! Who are you?!" Her voice trembled from panic.
But the only response was dead silence—and the quiet, overwhelming power pinning her wrists. Struggling was futile; the other person's strength far surpassed hers.
Realizing this, Kasumigaoka Utaha gradually stopped her pointless resistance. Her chest heaved violently from rapid breathing.
Sight deprived, body restrained, in an unfamiliar place, facing an unknown person…
An unprecedented sense of helplessness and terror washed over her like a tidal wave.
"…The note… it was you who left it?" She forced herself to calm down, though her voice still shook.
"You said you know what happened to me… What exactly do you know?"
In the darkness, she felt the other person seem to move slightly.
Then, a deliberately lowered boy's voice—impossible to recognize—slowly spoke right beside her ear:
"Kasumigaoka Utaha." His tone carried a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
"Or should I call you… Kasumi utako-sensei?"