Cyan cherry blossoms bloomed. Pale blue petals danced in the breeze. Mikoto, lost in thought, couldn't help but recall the similar spring flowers she had seen back in the Far East. Pale pink petals, blooming for only a few short weeks. A wave of homesickness surged in her heart, making her forget, for a brief moment, that she was in the Pleasure District.
Haruhime, within the brothel, shared the same thoughts. The false crescent moon in the sky had vanished, but Haruhime's longing remained unchanged.
Leaning against the wall, Aisha spoke.
"I heard from Ishtar-sama that the moon and bow were the divine powers of the goddess Artemis. Now that they've disappeared, it means the crisis has passed. The Little Rookie should be back soon."
"Really? Will Cranel-sama return?"
A flicker of light briefly shone in Haruhime's melancholy eyes.
"You're too easy to read," Aisha said with a helpless smile. "At this rate, you're likely to be deceived."
Innocence... perhaps that was this fox's virtue? Even in a place like this brothel, Haruhime still retained that rare quality.
"Aisha-san, were you deceiving me just now?"
Haruhime's tail slowly drooped, a trace of sadness in her voice.
"That's not what I meant..." Aisha scratched her head awkwardly. "It's just... how should I put it..."
Just then, she spotted the long-missed white hair.
"See? I didn't lie to you."
Haruhime's eyes filled with joy as she gazed at the youth walking toward her from the courtyard.
"Cranel-sama... I'm so relieved to see you safe..."
Bell looked around at the other prostitutes and deliberately wrapped an arm around Haruhime's waist.
"Sorry for making you worry, Haruhime-san. Please, accompany me for a while."
"Then I won't intrude."
Aisha chuckled softly, turning toward the observing prostitutes.
"What's there to look at? Even if Haruhime can't handle this man, I'm here. You've got no part in this."
"..."
The other prostitutes, faced with Aisha's bold declaration, quickly averted their gazes, offering no response.
"Cranel-sama... I... um..."
Haruhime was flustered, unable to speak clearly.
After such a long separation, the moment they reunited, the boy embraced her waist passionately. The loose kimono clung to her slender waist, and the warm touch made Haruhime's cheeks flush with a faint blush. Maintaining this posture, they began walking toward a corner room.
Passing one particular room, perhaps because the previous guest had been in a hurry, or maybe the cleaner had forgotten to close the door— it was unclear whether it was luck or misfortune. The layout of the Japanese-style room was different from ordinary ones. When the paper door was opened, it revealed the corridor to anyone outside.
And in that instant, Haruhime caught sight of someone she never wanted to see. The next moment, the color drained from her world.
"Haruhime-dono!"
The cry of a familiar voice seemed to stop time, pulling Haruhime back to a distant past. It was her childhood friend, Yamato Mikoto—someone she never expected to see again.
Haruhime had imagined that even if Mikoto and the others came to Orario, they would never visit this Pleasure District. Everything was supposed to remain unchanged.
Why...
Why?!
Confusion overwhelmed her, and astonishment gripped her as the rigid collar tightened around her neck. She struggled to breathe. The joy-filled tears she had shed moments ago, upon seeing Bell, immediately turned into tears of fear and disgust.
Unable to think, unable to respond, only one thought echoed in Haruhime's mind.
Don't look at me.
Don't look at me!
Anyone else.
But not the old friends who once held hands and played together in the fields. They must never see her as she was now. Her wretched self. The shameful prostitute.
This reunion brought only a never-ending descent into ruin and darkness.
"Haruhime-dono! Haruhime-dono... I am Mikoto!"
The girl's voice rang out, as clear and sweet as it had been in their childhood.
Yet, to Haruhime, it was like a blade piercing her fragile heart.
She bit her lip, not even sparing a glance at her childhood friend, who was on the verge of tears.
"I'm sorry..."
Haruhime murmured softly, turning away without a second thought.
Her figure quickly vanished from Mikoto's sight.
The last thing Mikoto saw was the golden hair drifting in the air, followed by the sound of shattered teardrops.
The next second, a string snapped in Mikoto's mind.
Why.
Why was Haruhime-dono in a brothel?
Had she been sold to Orario after being cut off from her family?!
When had this all begun, and what kind of hell had she endured?
Mikoto didn't know, and she didn't dare imagine.
The Haruhime she had once known had been so pure and noble. But now, she was trapped in a brothel, wearing a collar and reduced to a prostitute?!
This couldn't be.
She must have seen wrong.
Ugh...
How could she find an excuse for this?!
There was no doubt in her mind—this was the very Haruhime who had once laughed, played, and shared joyful childhood moments with her!
Haruhime must have endured unimaginable suffering, gone through despair beyond belief, to end up like this, to avoid being recognized...
The thought of her friend's torment squeezed Mikoto's heart painfully.
Reality shattered what was left of her reason.
Besides Haruhime, the white-haired youth was there too...
Bell had his arm around Haruhime's waist, ignoring the desperate cries of her childhood friend.
Seeing the tears in Haruhime's eyes, Mikoto knew this was forced, depraved.
Why?
Haruhime-dono.
Bell-dono.
Why had things come to this?!
Questions swirled in her mind, and her reason snapped like a broken thread.
In that instant, a thousand thoughts crushed Mikoto's heart.
Like a wild horse breaking free, she charged into the brothel without hesitation.
"This customer?!"
Mikoto's speed was too quick, and her samurai attire so convincing, that the Pallum receptionist didn't even recognize her as a woman.
But the combat prostitutes immediately took notice.
"Human girl, you here to cause trouble?!"
"Hold her!"
"She looks decent enough—wanna join our line of work?"
The clamor of voices echoed through the courtyard.
Aisha stood in the corridor, silently observing the unfolding situation.
"Ugh... Let me go?!"
The Level 2 Mikoto was swiftly restrained by the battle prostitutes.
"What the hell is this girl here for?"
"Should we get some answers the hard way?"
"The [Seduction Fragrance]? You still have that thing?"
"No, I already sold it."
As the battle prostitutes chattered freely, Bell walked over with a smile.
"My apologies, my apologies. She's here to see me. Sorry for the disturbance."
"..."
The battle prostitutes exchanged glances, then shot a sidelong look at the silent Aisha.
They released their grip and turned away, muttering under their breath.
"Hmph."
"So it was just a cheating scandal after all."
"Boring."
Seemingly used to such scenes, the battle prostitutes returned to their rooms with disinterested sighs.
A few mischievous prostitutes peeked out, watching the frozen standoff between the white-haired boy and the black-haired girl.
Bell sensed the surrounding gazes and slowly approached the unhinged Mikoto.
"Mikoto-san..."
The instant Bell reached out, a sharp slap echoed between them.
Smack.
Mikoto ruthlessly pushed away the warmth and flutter she had once felt.
Tears welled in the corners of her eyes.
In that moment, a pale cherry blossom silently drifted between them.
Mikoto's eyes were filled with resentment and disgust.