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KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
The sharp rapping at the door shattered the activation of the "Shameless Thief" title ability.
What the hell?!
Who is it now?!
Hirose Kaguya moved with the speed of a seasoned ninja, springing upright and smoothing down the hem of her skirt that Riku had hiked up moments before. Her fingers trembled as she tugged the fabric back into modest territory.
"Mom? Why's the door locked?"
A clear, bright voice rang out from beyond the apartment entrance.
Kaguya's face flushed crimson—not from arousal this time, but from sheer mortification. Her own daughter was standing on the other side of that door.
"My daughter's home," she whispered urgently to Riku, voice barely audible. "She usually comes back around this time for lunch."
As she stepped away from him, she shot Riku a pointed glare—one that clearly said this is your fault somehow—before padding toward the entrance.
She paused at the door, her hand hovering over the lock, and glanced back at him.
"So... turns out you're not as innocent as you look, young man."
Riku wiped the sweat beading on his forehead.
The fire that had been kindled so expertly was now doused unceremoniously. His body still thrummed with residual tension, like a guitar string plucked and left to vibrate.
Thank God she locked the door earlier. Being caught in the act would have been social suicide for everyone involved.
「You've discovered that Hirose Kaguya's daughter has returned. This particular girl—Hirose Yoru—happens to be the reigning school idol! If you were to complete both mother and daughter...」
The Narrator's voice echoed through his consciousness, suggestion dripping with perverse encouragement.
Riku ignored it and obediently relocated himself from the kitchen to the living room sofa. He sat with his back straight, hands on his knees—the picture of a harmless visitor.
The door swung open.
A girl stepped inside.
She had a delicate, refined face framed by cropped hair that barely brushed her jawline—a neat, refreshing style that looked like something straight out of a shoujo manga. Her features were clean and pretty, with large doe-eyes that seemed to catch every detail of her surroundings. She wore her school uniform crisply, the pleated skirt swaying just above her knees as she moved.
Hirose Yoru.
"Mom? We have a guest?"
Yoru's gaze had already landed on the pair of men's shoes sitting by the entrance—clearly too large to belong to her mother.
Kaguya cleared her throat.
"I ran into a bit of trouble on the way home. Someone helped me out."
"Mom?" Yoru tilted her head while bending down to swap her outdoor shoes for indoor slippers. "Are you hot or something? Your face is all red."
Kaguya's hand flew to her cheek, pressing against the flushed skin with the back of her fingers as if checking for fever.
"I-I think I'm just a bit overheated," she stammered. "Pushing that cart up the stairs, you know... really gets the blood pumping."
"I keep telling you to quit that street stall," Yoru said, her voice carrying a note of exasperation. "It's such a hassle. And the men who buy your stuff? Not a single decent one among them. You need to protect yourself better." She kicked off her second shoe. "Oh—my scholarship application got approved, by the way."
She rattled this off almost as an afterthought, like it was no big deal.
Yoru had always been uncomfortable with her mother working multiple jobs. She believed—firmly—that she was capable enough to take care of them both. Her mother didn't need to run herself ragged like this.
She walked into the apartment proper—
—and immediately spotted Riku sitting ramrod-straight on the sofa.
"Riku?!"
She recognized him instantly.
Riku turned his head and offered an awkward wave.
"Yo."
He only had a vague impression of Hirose Yoru��a face he'd seen in passing, maybe.
But she knew exactly who he was.
Riku Hayanui. The campus enigma.
The guy who deliberately skipped one exam every testing period while scoring perfect marks in everything else. The guy who'd achieved max proficiency in the kendo and judo clubs despite barely showing up. A walking contradiction—athletic, academic, and aggressively uninterested in conforming to any single mold.
An all-rounder in the truest sense.
This was also why those girls who'd been bullying Yukigami Nahiro had scattered like frightened rabbits the moment they spotted him. Riku had a reputation. Not for violence, exactly—but for being unpredictable.
A freak, some called him.
Not that Riku cared what people said.
"Yoru, you know Riku-kun?" Kaguya asked, genuine surprise coloring her voice.
"Yeah. We go to the same school."
"What a coincidence."
"Yeah..." Riku scratched the back of his head. "Small world."
Yoru set down her school bag and bounded over to where he sat. She moved with energetic, almost bouncy steps—completely at odds with the serious school idol image he'd expected.
She stopped right in front of him.
Then leaned in close.
Really close.
Her face was mere centimeters from his. He could see the faint shimmer of lip gloss on her mouth, the individual lashes framing her wide eyes. Her breath ghosted across his cheek—warm and faintly sweet, like melon candy.
Riku's heart stuttered.
Yoru's eyes narrowed into crescent moons, taking on an expression that said I see right through you.
Behind her, Kaguya's composure visibly cracked. Her hands wrung together, and her gaze darted between the two teens with barely concealed panic.
The apartment filled with suffocating, awkward tension.
"You..."
Yoru drew out the word, letting it hang in the air like a blade over his neck.
Riku's heart climbed into his throat.
She knows? There's no way she knows. Right?
Then Yoru's face split into a bright, mischievous grin.
"You're skipping class again, aren't you!"
Skip...?
Class...?
Haaaah...
Both Riku and Kaguya exhaled at the same moment—twin sighs of relief that they both desperately hoped went unnoticed.
"Why do you look so nervous?" Yoru plopped down on the sofa beside him, tucking one leg beneath her with casual familiarity. "Relax!"
"It's nothing."
"With your grades, the teachers don't care if you show up or not, right? You're basically a certified genius." She leaned toward him, eyes sparkling. "Hey—think you could tutor me sometime?"
As she shifted closer, Riku caught her scent.
It wasn't perfume. Nothing artificial or chemical.
It was something else entirely. The natural musk of a girl in the bloom of youth—soft, milky, almost edible. Like warm vanilla mixed with something floral and alive. The kind of scent that made you want to bury your nose against her neck and breathe.
「You've noticed that Hirose Yoru, the school idol, seems rather airheaded and oblivious. You could push things a bit further. Perhaps when her mother isn't watching, you could offer her some private tutoring sessions. That way, you might...」
"Riku-kun, stay for lunch!"
Kaguya's voice cut through the Narrator's whisper.
"Oh—no, I shouldn't impose..."
After what had almost happened between them, Riku's first instinct was to flee.
But his traitorous stomach chose that exact moment to growl.
Loudly.
The sound echoed through the quiet apartment like a dying whale.
Both Kaguya and Yoru burst into laughter—light, genuine giggles that made the tension evaporate like morning dew.
Yoru grabbed Riku's arm and tugged.
"C'mon, Riku-kun! Stay and eat with us!"
Kaguya was watching him too, her gaze carrying a strange weight—part warning, part... something else.
Riku had no real choice.
"...Alright."
Kaguya nodded, visibly relieved.
"I'll go prepare the meal then. You two young people can chat." She gestured vaguely. "Get to know each other."
With that, she disappeared into her bedroom to change.
Riku caught a glimpse through the half-open door—Kaguya bundling up her clothes from earlier and stuffing them directly into the washing machine. The same clothes he'd been reaching beneath just minutes ago.
She noticed his wandering eyes.
Another sharp glare was shot his way.
Stop looking, that expression said.
Riku quickly averted his gaze.
"Hey, Riku-kun!" Yoru's voice drew his attention back. "I have some homework problems I'm stuck on. Come to my room and help me out?"
「You find it rather suspicious that a pure, innocent maiden would invite you into her private bedroom so casually. Is it really just about homework? While her mother is busy outside, you could pull out your phone and show her that video of her mother being harassed by the molester—use it as leverage. Hirose Yoru would have no choice but to...」
The Narrator's vile suggestion slithered through his mind.
Riku dismissed it.
He followed Yoru into her room.
---
The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Yoru's entire demeanor transformed.
Gone was the cheerful, bubbly girl.
In her place stood someone with cold, flat eyes and a mouth pressed into a hard line. Her posture shifted—shoulders back, chin raised, every trace of cuteness evaporating like it had never existed.
"Riku-kun."
Her voice was ice.
"Why are you in my house?"
The question hung in the air, sharp as a blade.
This wasn't the same girl who'd been bouncing around the living room moments ago. This was someone else entirely—bitter, suspicious, radiating hostility like heat from a furnace.
"Answer me."
Her gaze raked over him with unconcealed disgust. Like he was something unpleasant she'd found stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
「The girl's secret face reveals itself! Behind the mask she wears for her mother lies this bitter, man-hating persona. You should take out your phone and show her that footage of her mother's predicament...」
Riku answered lazily.
"I helped your mother. That's all."
Wrong answer.
Something flickered in Yoru's eyes—anger, revulsion, distrust. She lunged forward and grabbed his collar with both hands, yanking him toward her. Her grip was stronger than he'd expected from such slender arms.
"Men are all the same," she hissed. "Every last one of you. Trash. Stay away from my mother."
Here's the thing about Riku:
He was soft on the vulnerable. The lost. The broken.
Street girls drowning in their own ruin? He'd pull them out without asking for anything in return.
But attitudes like this—the sneering contempt, the assumptions, the hostility—
It made something dark and defiant rise up inside him.
He moved faster than she could react.
His hand closed around her wrist—not gentle, but not bruising either. Just firm. Enough to make her flinch.
"Let go—!"
She released his collar instinctively, pain flashing across her features.
Riku held her there, suspended in that moment of surprise.
"You want me to stay away from your mother?" His voice dropped low. "Fine. But there's a condition."
His eyes slid downward.
Deliberately.
Slowly.
They traced the curve of her collarbones, visible above her uniform's neckline. Lingered on the modest swell of her chest beneath the white fabric of her blouse. Drifted lower still.
Yoru noticed.
Of course she noticed.
Her expression twisted into something venomous.
"Disgusting. I knew it." She spat the words like they burned her tongue. "Men are all garbage."
Riku's lips curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah," he murmured. "And I love that look you're giving me right now—like I'm trash."
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