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Kenta stood at his front door, his mind flickering back to the scene at the hotel entrance just twenty minutes earlier.
"You can't just ask for something like that! It's too rude!" March 7th had practically shrieked at Stelle.
Under normal circumstances, a public lecture like that would cause any sane person to retreat in a cloud of social awkwardness. But Kenta was beginning to realize that Stelle didn't operate on a "normal" frequency. Instead of backing down, the gray-haired girl had fallen into a brief, deep contemplation. Then, a visible spark ignited in her eyes.
I have a plan, her expression screamed.
" Kenta-kun... "
The voice was so saccharine it could have caused instant cavities. Stelle cautiously pinched the very edge of Kenta's sleeve, puffing out her cheeks and looking up at him with wide, shimmering eyes. She gave his arm a tiny, rhythmic shake.
"Please just say yes... won't you? Pretty please? ~"
Kenta felt a violent wave of goosebumps erupt across his skin. This wasn't the deadpan "raccoon" he'd met yesterday; this was a high-level tactical assault using weaponized cuteness.
Is this actually her character setting? he wondered, his resolve crumbling.
Seeing his hesitation, a tiny, triumphant smirk twitched at the corner of Stelle's lips. She doubled down. "We're strangers in a strange land, Kenta. Staying at your place is the only way we'll truly feel at peace."
Kenta looked toward March 7th for salvation. She merely shrugged, offering a "you're on your own" look that suggested she wasn't about to interfere with Stelle's performance.
Fine. Bronya is still here! Kenta thought, pinning his last hopes on the Silvermane Commander. Surely, Bronya's legendary sense of propriety would lead her to explode in indignation.
But when he looked at Bronya, she was uncharacteristically turning her head away, refusing to meet his eyes.
Earlier, Bronya had been furious. Why is this gray-haired brat always like this?! she'd fumed internally. But then, the logic of the situation hit her. Wait... stay at his place? We? Suddenly, the "outrageous behavior" didn't seem so outrageous. It seemed like a golden opportunity. I'm sorry, Kenta, Bronya apologized to him in her head. But everything is for the greater good of our relationship.
Six-six-six, Kenta thought, utterly defeated. Even the Commander is a traitor.
He turned his eyes to Dan Heng, the last bastion of logic.
Dan Heng: [...] [Only Silence]
And so, under the relentless offensive of a gray little raccoon, Kenta finally compromised.
Creak—
The door swung open to reveal a simple, spacious living room. It was unadorned and smelled faintly of old parchment and charcoal.
"The house is a bit run down," Kenta remarked, his voice tight. "Don't mind the dust. There are four rooms. I take the master. Bronya, you take the left. Stelle and March, share the right. Dan Heng, guest room next to mine. Everyone clear?"
"Objection!" Stelle raised a hand instantly. "I want to share the master room with you! Ow—!"
March 7th delivered a sharp chop to Stelle's head before she could finish the thought.
Stelle pouted, looking at Kenta's door with a lingering, predatory focus. "Then we switch with Dan Heng! March and I want the room next to yours!"
"Absolutely not!" Kenta barked. "Letting you in the front door was my final concession."
He wasn't a block of wood. He could see the gears turning in Stelle's head. He'd assumed her clinginess was just a quirk, but after Dan Heng's cryptic hints about his amnesia, he was starting to worry she knew something he didn't. I'm not letting anyone die of 'accidental proximity' in the middle of the night, he told himself.
"Fine," Stelle muttered, but as she walked to her room, she whispered under her breath: "The night is still young."
Inside the shared room, Stelle lay perfectly still. "March? You asleep?"
The only reply was the steady, rhythmic breathing of March 7th. Stelle nodded to the darkness. She cautiously slid out from under the covers, stepped into her fuzzy slippers, and tiptoed across the floor. She opened the door with the precision of a master thief and closed it with a silent click.
The moment the door latched, March 7th's eyes snapped open. "What is she up to this time...?"
In the living room, Stelle navigated the shadows like a ghost until she reached Kenta's door. Hehe! Didn't see that coming, did you? She reached for the knob and twisted.
Click.
Locked.
"Tsk," Stelle hissed. But as she prepared to fish a lockpick out of her mental inventory, a soft, warm hand covered hers on the doorknob.
"..." "..."
Stelle and Bronya stared at each other in the gloom.
Because they were in the Underworld, where "night" was a total blackout, and because Bronya had been trained in elite reconnaissance, neither had sensed the other until they were literally touching.
"It won't open," Stelle whispered helpfully. "He's a cautious one."
Bronya calmly withdrew her hand, her voice a low, disciplined murmur. "Why are you here instead of sleeping?"
"I was thirsty," Stelle replied without missing a beat. "I was coming out for water."
"The kitchen is in the other direction. This is Kenta's bedroom."
"I didn't know where the bottle was. I was going to ask him to show me."
The excuse was flawless, delivered with Stelle's trademark "blank" expression. She narrowed her eyes. "What about you? Why are you at his door?"
"Water," Bronya replied.
The air between them hung heavy with mutual, shamelessly identical lies. After a tense silence, Bronya spoke. "It's late. We should wait until morning to hydrate. Let's go back."
Stelle nodded. "Agreed."
Both girls turned and walked back to their respective rooms.
Five minutes later, they met again in front of Kenta's door. This time, the silence was a lot more awkward.
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