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[Hospital Rooftop]
The silence that followed was almost louder than everything that came before.
A heavy stillness blanketed the rooftop, broken only by ragged breathing and the distant hum of traffic from streets below. The air hung thick with the unmistakable musk of exertion—sweat and something sharper, sweeter, the kind of scent that clung to skin and refused to dissipate. The wind had died completely, leaving nothing to carry away the evidence of what had just occurred against the cold concrete.
Haru's fingers trembled as she tugged at the hem of her nurse's uniform, pulling the white fabric back over her hips. Her movements were slow, unsteady—legs quivering with each attempt to stand properly. The thin cotton offered little dignity; wrinkled and askew, buttons misaligned by at least two positions.
Too much... it was too much...
She clamped her thighs together desperately, a visible shudder rolling through her entire frame. Her expression twisted into something complicated—half-grimace, half something she couldn't name. Warmth still leaked between her legs with each micro-movement, and the sensation made her face burn hotter than it already was.
The crimson flush across her cheeks and down her throat hadn't faded. If anything, it seemed to deepen with each passing second of awareness—a full-body blush that painted her porcelain skin in shades of embarrassment and lingering arousal. Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath the uniform, nipples still visibly peaked against the thin fabric.
Riku observed the notification flickering at the edge of his vision:
[Haru — Affection: 70]
Haru.
The name clicked into place, and Riku felt a moment of genuine surprise. He'd assumed—reasonably, given the circumstances—that the nurse who'd slipped him a note would be the same one who showed up. The cheerful, forward one. Emi.
But this was Haru. The cool, composed twin. The one who'd regarded him with ice-chip eyes and professional distance back in Nahiro's hospital room.
That Haru was nowhere to be found now.
In her place stood something entirely different—a woman with mussed hair falling loose from its professional clips, mascara slightly smudged at the corners of her eyes, lipstick worn completely away. Her usual frigid composure had melted into something vulnerable, almost fragile. She couldn't meet his gaze, couldn't seem to decide what to do with her hands.
The silence stretched between them like taffy.
What was that just now?
Haru's mind spun through a cyclone of conflicting emotions. There was the physical satisfaction—undeniable, overwhelming, the kind that left her core still clenching around phantom sensations. Forty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes of relentless attention from someone whose stamina seemed almost inhuman.
But also—this was a stranger. Someone she'd met mere hours ago. Someone whose name she'd learned second-hand from patient records.
She didn't dislike him. That much was certain. Riku's face was the kind that graced magazine covers—sharp jaw, intense eyes, the sort of effortless handsomeness that reminded her of protagonists from shoujo manga. The kind of face that made nurses whisper behind their hands during break.
But still...
Haru had no framework for this. No protocol. Her training covered wound care and medication schedules, not post-coital rooftop etiquette with hospital visitors.
Meanwhile, Riku was running his own calculations.
Currently, Haru represented his highest affection score. Higher than Nahiro. Higher than anyone he'd encountered since the System activated. The implications of that fact weren't lost on him.
「You find yourself genuinely impressed with your own performance—forty-five minutes for a first time is nothing to sneeze at. You decide to properly comfort this wounded little bird while simultaneously deepening your connection. Her taste lingers on your lips, and you've already begun formulating a special plan: if you can thoroughly conquer the older sister first, perhaps you could work your way toward her twin. A matching set. Double the pleasure, double the—」
Goddamn degenerate narrator.
Riku's eye twitched. At this point, the Antagonistic voice in his head had graduated from 'annoying' to 'genuinely concerning.' The suggestions grew more unhinged by the hour.
Still, the narrator wasn't entirely wrong about one thing: he needed to do something about this silence.
Without a word, Riku shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Haru's shoulders. The fabric settled around her small frame like a blanket—warm from his body heat, carrying his scent of clean cotton and something faintly woodsy.
[Haru — Affection +1]
[Haru — Affection +2]
Two notifications in rapid succession. The double-ping of approval emboldened him further.
Haru's fingers curled into the jacket's lapels, using the garment as support to finally rise to her feet properly. The flush had begun to recede from her face, fading from crimson to a softer pink. Her lips parted, tongue darting out to wet them nervously before words finally emerged.
"Th-thank... thank you."
The voice that came out bore no resemblance to her earlier frost. Gone was the cool, clinical tone. In its place—a soft, shy murmur that cracked at the edges. Like a small animal emerging from hiding.
She's completely different from before.
Riku said nothing.
Words would be superfluous right now. Perhaps even counterproductive. Better to let actions speak.
He stepped forward and pulled Haru into his arms.
"Ah—!"
Her startled yelp was swallowed immediately.
Riku's mouth found hers before she could process the embrace, claiming her lips with confident pressure. Not rough—not demanding—but undeniably present. The kiss of someone who knew what they wanted.
Haru's eyes went wide, pupils dilating as she found herself inches from his face. This close, she could count his eyelashes, could see the flecks of amber in his dark irises. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her flush against his chest until she could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat through both their clothes.
Her resistance lasted approximately two seconds.
Then her body simply... surrendered.
"Mmn...~"
The soft sound escaped her throat as tension drained from her limbs. She melted into him like butter on warm bread, knees buckling, weight transferring entirely into his support. Her hands, which had been raised defensively, slowly lowered to rest against his chest—not pushing away, but anchoring.
[Haru — Affection +4]
[Haru — Affection: 76]
Perfect.
Riku's internal assessment proved correct. When one party was lost and uncertain, the other needed to be decisive. Confidence was contagious. Or perhaps infectious. Either way, it worked.
He didn't push further. Didn't try to reignite what had just concluded. After everything, the dynamic between them had shifted into something delicate—a glass ornament requiring careful handling.
When their lips finally separated, a thin strand of saliva stretched between them.
Haru's gaze dropped to that glistening thread, and whatever remained of her composure shattered completely.
"Mngh—"
She buried her face directly into his chest, hiding against the fabric of his shirt. Above her crown, a red heart materialized—floating, pulsing, unmistakable.
[Haru — Affection +3]
A muffled voice emerged from somewhere around his sternum.
"...can we go downstairs? The rooftop... it's cold."
The gap between 'ice queen nurse' and 'bashful maiden' was giving Riku emotional whiplash. The contrast was almost comical. Like watching the student council president from a romcom anime suddenly start acting like the shy transfer student.
Moving proved challenging.
Given that it was Haru's first time—combined with Riku's apparently excessive... enthusiasm—she could barely walk unassisted. Each step sent tremors through her thighs. She ended up pressed firmly against his side, using him as a human crutch, her body heat seeping through the jacket into his arm.
They made their way toward the rooftop door.
The key hadn't been inside the lock—Haru had hidden it earlier. She'd watched Dr. Umezu stash it in a shadowed corner before everything went sideways, memorizing the location. A small act of foresight that now proved invaluable.
As the door swung open, Riku's gaze fell on the unconscious form of the doctor.
「You notice something interesting in the odious physician's inner pocket—a smartphone containing compromising material on numerous nurses. Blackmail files. Leverage. With this device, you could have the run of this entire hospital. Every nurse, every resident, every—」
Leverage?
"Hold still for a second. Need to grab something."
"Mn."
Haru's response was barely audible, still swimming in post-coital haze.
Riku crouched beside the doctor's crumpled body, following the narrator's hints to the inner coat pocket. His fingers closed around a smartphone—sleek, modern, protected by a case with a cartoon bear design. Incongruously cutesy for someone so vile.
A quick swipe confirmed the device was unlocked. And its contents...
Jesus Christ.
Folders upon folders. Photos. Videos. Audio recordings. Each labeled with a date and what appeared to be employee numbers. A systematic archive of suffering—carefully organized and presumably frequently revisited.
Riku had zero intention of using this for the narrator's suggested purposes. Becoming the same kind of predator, just younger and better-looking, wasn't exactly aspirational. Besides, the consequences were obvious. If the actual chief physician had met this fate, what made anyone think a civilian could do better?
No, this phone served exactly one purpose: evidence.
With this, Dr. Umezu could be guaranteed a lengthy stay in a facility with far worse food than hospital cafeteria fare.
"What's that?"
Haru had noticed, of course. Her eyes—still slightly unfocused—tracked the device in his hand.
"This gets handed to the police, and she's finished. Career, reputation, everything. Prison time, guaranteed."
Understanding dawned across Haru's features. She'd heard rumors, naturally. Everyone in the ward had. The chief physician's habit of documentation was an open secret—just one that nobody had possessed the power to act upon.
"But... what about the other girls?"
The question gave Riku pause.
Right.
The videos and photos weren't just evidence against the doctor. They were of people. Real people with lives and careers and futures that could be destroyed by this material becoming public—even in a courtroom setting.
He considered for a moment, then extended the phone toward Haru.
"Your call. You're one of the victims here, technically."
Technically being the key word, since I sort of... intercepted the process.
Internally, Riku acknowledged a certain debt to the unconscious doctor. Without her machinations, the circumstances that led to him and Haru wouldn't have existed. A twisted silver lining.
Haru reached out with trembling fingers, accepting the phone, clutching it against her chest like something precious. Or dangerous. Perhaps both.
For Riku, the decision was simple: he was an outsider to this situation. A beneficiary of chaos, not a participant in the original trauma. Whatever happened to this evidence belonged to those actually affected.
They approached the rooftop door.
The hinges creaked as it swung open, and—
Thud.
A body tumbled through the gap, collapsing at their feet.
Nurse's uniform. Identical face. Same delicate features, same button nose, same cupid's-bow lips.
Emi.
"Emi...? How long have you been there?"
The fallen twin scrambled upright, refusing to meet either of their eyes.
"I... just got here."
Bullshit.
But Riku's attention had already been captured by something far more pressing.
A massive red heart hovered above Emi's head.
Pulsing.
Throbbing.
And displaying a number that made Riku's brain short-circuit.
[Emi — Affection: 90]
[Emi — Affection 90 (Has developed an obsessive fixation on Hayanui Riku.)]
Ninety.
Ninety.
Higher than Haru's post-coital score. Higher than anyone he'd encountered. A full twenty points beyond her twin sister—despite Riku never having spent more than five minutes in Emi's presence.
What the hell?
His confusion must have shown, because the Antagonistic narrator chose that moment to enlighten him.
「You've stumbled upon a delightful secret. Symbiotic twins. These particular sisters share a subtle sensory connection—what one experiences intensely, the other perceives as echoes. Everything you did to Haru on this rooftop? Emi felt it all. Every thrust, every shudder, every—」
Oh.
「She's completely infatuated. Addicted to sensations she experienced second-hand. At this level of affection, she'll agree to virtually anything you request. And I do mean anything. The wind has died. The door closes easily. A battle royale with twin sisters could commence at your earliest convenience. The difficulty rating might be elevated, but for someone of your demonstrated caliber—」
The narrator continued rambling, but Riku had heard enough.
He understood now.
The entire time he and Haru had been... occupied... Emi had been outside that door. Listening. Feeling. Experiencing phantom sensations of her twin's pleasure coursing through her own nervous system.
Which explained several things.
Like why Emi's face currently displayed a flush that rivaled Haru's post-coital glow.
Or why her thighs were pressed together tightly, shifting with barely-contained restlessness.
Or why—as Riku's eyes instinctively dropped—she appeared to be missing her underwear entirely.
The edge of her uniform's skirt fluttered with her unsteady breathing, offering glimpses of creamy thigh uninterrupted by any barrier.
Emi surged forward, seizing Riku's wrist before he could react. She pressed his palm flat against her chest—directly over her heart, which hammered against his fingers like a caged bird.
Her expression had gone hazy, unfocused, pupils blown wide with arousal that had been building for forty-five agonizing minutes without release.
"Riku-kun..."
Her voice came out breathy, almost slurred.
"Me and Nee-san... we can both... together..."
Riku yanked his hand back reflexively.
Here?
Right now?
...Actually, it's not like we can't...
His gaze drifted between the twins—Haru still flushed and unsteady against his side, Emi visibly trembling with need before him. Matching faces. Matching bodies. Matching nurse uniforms in various states of disarray.
A scenario straight out of the kind of doujinshi that required age verification to purchase.