Amane's eyes snapped open.
Sunlight slanted through the blinds, slicing her room into bands of warmth and shadow. Her breath caught—she was late. Again.
"Ah—!" She bolted upright, heart racing. "I'm gonna be late!"
She practically flung herself out of bed, her pillow tumbling to the floor like it had tried to hold her back. She sprinted into the hallway with one hand gripping her half-pressed uniform and the other tugging her tangled hair into submission. Her socks were halfway on as she skidded past the mirror, toothbrush clenched in her mouth like a dagger of war.
But halfway through her frenzied routine, she stopped.
Her reflection stared back at her—pale, yes, and slightly tired—but her eyes were clear. Focused. Alive.
Her hand rose and rested lightly against her chest.
"...Eiji-kun..."
Her voice was barely more than a whisper. But her heart pounded with a rhythm that proved she was still here.
She remembered it vividly—the altar soaked in divine light, the suffocating void of fear, and the boy who stood before her, fearless and furious, as if the world could not stop him.
Her cheeks flushed red.
"Idiot... You can't just save someone like that… hold them like that… and expect nothing to change."
Her fingers curled around the strap of her bag. With a deep breath, she straightened her back.
Today, she was going back.
To school.
To him.
Kusunogi High
Kusunogi High's gates rose like the archway to a stage, buzzing with chatter and late spring sunshine. Students strolled in, yawning, gossiping, clutching books and breakfast.
Amane stepped through slowly, her heart thudding in an odd blend of nervous weight and light anticipation.
A familiar figure stood ahead, arms folded like always, golden hair shimmering like a lioness beneath the sun.
"You're late," Seraphina said, her voice stern, but a slight twitch betrayed her otherwise statuesque composure.
"President!" Amane broke into a jog, closing the distance with a smile.
Seraphina didn't move. But she didn't scold her either.
Ayaka leaned casually against the wall, chewing something.
"You look like you're fine now," she said, eyes narrowing like a scanner, analyzing Amane from head to toe. "Not broken. Good."
"Mmhm!" Amane nodded brightly.
And then she saw him.
Eiji Kuroryuu.
Near the club steps, he stood with one hand shielding his eyes from the sun, squinting at a faded bulletin board as if it were written in ancient runes. His uniform was barely tucked in, his tie hanging like he was being strangled by Monday morning. But the wild, boyish energy that surrounded him was unmistakable.
Alive. Warm. Real.
Without thinking, her legs moved.
"Eiji-kun…!"
She lunged into him, arms wrapping around his chest before her brain could catch up. His balance wobbled, and he let out a surprised yelp.
"Wha—?! Amane?!"
She recoiled, blushing so fiercely it felt like her skin would ignite.
"S-Sorry! I didn't mean to—! I just—!"
Eiji blinked, then rubbed the back of his head, chuckling.
"Nah, it's cool. I missed you, too, Amane."
The world slowed for a second.
Amane blinked up at him, and for a moment, nothing else mattered.
Above, a red-eyed girl with neatly brushed crimson hair leaned on the second-floor railing, silently watching. Aika Lucross clicked her pen, scribbled something onto her clipboard, and turned away with the grace of a warden cataloging sins.
Later that day, Eiji found himself alone in the clubroom with Seraphina.
Sunlight spilled through the tall windows, casting soft glows across the floor. A breeze danced between curtains, and birds chirped in the distance.
"President... about the promise."
She looked up from the time she was reviewing. "What promise?"
He pouted.
"Don't act all innocent. You said if I protected Amane, you'd let me... touch your boobs."
Seraphina stared.
Then she exhaled the kind of sigh mothers give to lost children and exorcists give to ghosts who refuse to move on.
"Fine. A promise is a promise. You've earned it. One minute. Start counting."
Eiji's soul left his body.
Petals rained down in his mind. A heavenly choir sang. Cherubs played violins.
He began counting out loud, voice trembling.
"O-One... T-Two..."
"Thirty seconds left," she said calmly, arms crossed, watching the blush rise to his ears.
He knelt before her like a pilgrim before a shrine, face contorted in blissful agony.
Just as his trembling hands reached the divine summit—
The door slammed open.
"Eiji?!"
Amane stood frozen at the entrance.
He jolted.
"I-I-it's not what it looks like!!"
"Times up," Seraphina said flatly.
"NOOOOOO! I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH THE PROMISED LAND!"
He collapsed, twitching like a man betrayed by fate.
Seraphina chuckled softly, knelt, and gently pulled him into a hug.
"Nevertheless, you did great. But next time… do the right thing without needing a reward."
Her voice melted against his ear—quiet, rich, kind.
Eiji blinked, face red, brain empty. Her scent—warm, like fire lilies and cinnamon—wrapped around him like a spell.
A cough echoed from the door.
Amane stood frozen, eyes wide.
"Uh… am I interrupting something?"
"As part of your induction, Eiji, you'll help clean the east wing," Ayaka said, handing him a suspiciously hand-drawn map.
"Aye, aye! Cleaning spirit, activate!"
He trotted off, map flipped upside down, eyes burning with heroic determination—and total confusion.
He inserted the janitor's key into the wrong door.
Steam billowed out.
"Wow… the Spirit Cleansing Chamber's so fancy."
He stepped inside.
Marble floors. Warm mist. The water glittered like scattered diamonds. It felt like entering a dream.
Then, he heard humming.
"Hellooo~?"
He turned a corner.
Seraphina emerged, towel-wrapped, golden hair dripping.
Amane lay submerged in the bath, eyes half-closed.
Ayaka entered behind him, a towel slung across her neck.
Miya was mid-shower, soap trailing down her shoulder.
Time froze.
Then:
"EIJI?!"
He blinked, horror blooming.
"I—I thought this was a fog spell chamber! I swear on my nonexistent innocence!"
A bar of soap hit him square between the eyes.
"Die, pervert!!" Miya's punch landed in his gut. He flew backward into a towel rack.
"I TOLD YOU TO FOLLOW THE MAP!" Ayaka roared, flinging another towel at him.
Dripping, bruised, and miserable, Eiji sat hunched on a stool in the Research Club.
Seraphina loomed.
"How many girls' baths do you usually enter in a week?"
"Th-this was my first! Honest!" he yelped.
Ayaka, drying her hair with a fluffy towel, smirked.
"We should reward him with more cleaning next time."
Seraphina sighed.
"You're sentenced to one week of detention."
"That's fair," Eiji muttered, ears drooping.
She continued, "Ayaka will be your supervisor. You'll be her assistant. Follow her every command. No shortcuts."
Eiji blinked. "So… is this a punishment or a date?"
Seraphina rolled her eyes. "Think of it however you like, idiot."
In the clubroom, laughter echoed.
Ayaka stretched out lazily, muttering, "Well… he didn't stare that much."
Amane sat on the edge of the sofa, cheeks pink.
"Thanks for… hugging me earlier."
Eiji scratched his cheek. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Anytime."
She smiled. The kind that felt like spring.
Hidden in the corridor, Aika scribbled furiously into a black notebook.
Kuroryuu Eiji. Threat Level: Increasing.
The others laughed—some at him, some with him. But for the first time in a while… it felt like everyday school life.
Later that evening, Eiji leaned against the balcony, towel over his head, watching the setting sun.
"I survived angels, demons, and holy destruction..."
He looked at the crumpled detention slip.
"But nothing prepared me… for high school girls and towels."
Fade to black.
To Be Continued...