The morning light had a clarity unique to early spring.
Togawa Sakiko, as usual, walked out of the mansion's gate carrying her schoolbag, her eyes sweeping over the newly planted cucumber seedlings in the courtyard, her footsteps not pausing in the slightest.
Originally, the Wakaba Family had planned to bring Wakaba Mutsumi home after the arsonist was caught, but the serial arson case that shocked the country completely disrupted their plans.
The Togawa Family, for safety considerations, or more precisely, due to Fuuki's silent insistence, had Mutsumi's stay extended indefinitely. As for the attempted attack Sakiko had suffered? This news was strictly sealed off by the Togawa Family, and the Wakaba Family, outside "that circle," naturally knew nothing about it.
The family's reputation, Togawa's authority, and... the quietly growing connection between Fuuki and Mutsumi, which could not be pried into by outsiders, all needed this layer of silent protection. Furthermore, the Wakaba Family, who were intentionally deepening their connection with the Togawa Family, completely agreed with Mutsumi's long-term stay at the Togawa Family.
Upstairs, the door to Sakiko's room was ajar, temporarily becoming the place where Fuuki and Mutsumi conducted special "lessons."
The light inside the room was softer than downstairs. Wakaba Mutsumi and Togawa Fuuki sat side by side on Sakiko's large bed, which was covered with light-colored sheets, close enough to feel the slight currents of each other's breath.
Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting a hazy halo around them.
"Yes... just like that, Mutsumi."
"Feel this sensation, memorize the feeling in your fingertips..."
Fuuki's voice was low and steady, carrying an almost hypnotic guiding tone. He tilted his head slightly, fully exposing his profile to the girl. His bronze skin shone with a warm luster in the light, and his golden short hair was like solidified sunlight.
Mutsumi's expression was unusually focused, her eyes reflecting Fuuki's face. Her slender, fair fingers were now gently stroking the boy's hairline with an almost pious caution. The skin on her fingertips touched the skin on his forehead, and a faint, almost imperceptible electric current flowed under her fingertips, bringing a strange tingling sensation.
Her movements were slow and steady, tracing down his high, straight nose, her fingertips feeling the hard lines of his bones and the warm vitality below.
"Imagine it as flowing mercury, or... molten glass," Fuuki continued to guide, his eyes gazing into Mutsumi's eyes, as if trying to see something deeper through those clear amber eyes.
Mutsumi's fingers stopped at Fuuki's Cupid's bow.
The boy's lip line was distinct, with a wonderful curve. Her fingertips could feel the slight tremor from Fuuki's steady breathing.
The atmosphere became subtle and viscous in the silence, and an aura of extraordinary intimacy surged in the air.
If it weren't for the blue Stand phantom floating to the side, emanating inhuman power, and the crackling arcs of electricity around it, the scene before them would be enough to make any intruder blush and misunderstand.
What the two of them were doing was indeed a serious matter, a serious matter concerning Togawa Fuuki's next crucial action.
He was guiding Mutsumi to develop the most subtle and mysterious part of that ability renamed "Lightning Rider"—the characteristic of [Melt].
Mutsumi had proven that this ability, under her control, could irrationally [fuse] severed limbs back together, with effects surpassing any top-notch surgical procedure.
And what Fuuki needed was to go a step further: through subtle manipulation, to precisely adjust the position, contours, and even skin tone and texture of the facial features, thereby achieving a flawless, instantaneous "plastic surgery."
This required precise control and a deep understanding of the flow of life energy.
"Very good..."
Fuuki's voice was softer, like a whisper. Mutsumi's fingertips were carefully moving along the contours of his cheekbones, and traces of blue electricity flickered and disappeared where her fingertips touched his skin, as if performing the most delicate sculpture.
She could feel the subtle adjustments of Fuuki's facial muscles, and the bones under his skin seemed to be undergoing indescribable subtle changes under the guidance of the electric current.
"Remember this path, remember the tactile feedback from tissue remodeling..."
Time passed quietly in focused practice. When the doorbell rang faintly downstairs—indicating that the piano teacher was about to arrive.
Mutsumi slowly withdrew her hand, beads of sweat seeping from her forehead, and her breathing was slightly more rapid than usual, obviously the precise operation had taken a great deal of her mental energy.
Fuuki stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling dressing mirror embedded in the room.
Reflected in the mirror was already another person.
The original neat golden short hair had disappeared, replaced by a head of long hair that shone like molten gold, falling naturally to his shoulders. The original healthy bronze skin seemed to be covered with a layer of delicate pearl powder, becoming fair and translucent, revealing a bit of pampered coldness.
The edges and corners of his facial contours were softly reshaped, the lines were clearer and smoother, like a male model walking out of a top European fashion magazine, with a unique temperament that mixed classical sculptural beauty and modern alienation.
The most significant changes were in his eyebrows and eyes, the depth of his eye sockets was enhanced, the bridge of his nose seemed straighter, and the shape of his lips became more refined. The three distinctive moles on his ears were cleverly concealed by a few strands of golden hair that fell down.
The person in the mirror was handsome to the point of being almost unreal, with a gorgeousness that transcended gender, completely different from the steady, slightly gloomy young face of "Togawa Fuuki."
Fuuki quietly stared at the new face in the mirror, his fingers gently stroking his cheeks, a hint of a contrived smile appearing on those unfamiliar, eerie lips.
"Perfect, Di molto!" Fuuki's voice also seemed to have changed slightly, his voice soft, with a silky texture. He turned around, looked at the girl who was still sitting on the bed, panting slightly, with a hint of approval in his eyes.
"You did very well, as expected of my friend."
Mutsumi looked at this "Fuuki" who was both familiar and infinitely strange, her pupils slightly dilated, clearly reflecting the other party's brand-new and gorgeous image.
She just nodded lightly, watching him, as if admiring her own work.
"Then..." Fuuki put on a well-fitting black outfit, his voice carrying a composure as if about to step onto the stage.
"The actor with makeup complete should go to welcome the next scene."
With a new face and a new identity, Fuuki's carefully planned action was about to be staged quietly in a corner of this city.
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