Sakamoto seemed oblivious to the stares and quiet whispers.
He moved through the gaps in the crowd like a gentle breeze, disappearing into the bright light at the store's exit, leaving behind only an elegant, mysterious silhouette—and the faint scent of soap lingering in the air.
Ayanokouji watched the direction Sakamoto had left in, then lowered his eyes to the mid-price items in his own cart, and finally glanced at the cheapest items in Horikita's shopping basket.
Horikita still stood at the cashier area, her cool profile angled toward the direction Sakamoto had vanished. A subtle confusion lingered in her eyes. She seemed unable to fully break free from the image she had just witnessed.
Inside the convenience store, the cool air from the refrigerated section mixed with the warm aroma drifting from the bakery corner, creating a unique atmosphere.
The Advanced Nurturing High School convenience store had an astonishingly wide range of products.
The aisles were sparsely filled with people. Only the occasional footsteps or the faint chirp of scanners broke the quiet.
Kamuro Masumi held a shopping basket, her long purple hair cascading down like a curtain. Her indifferent purple eyes swept over the dazzling rows of items, yet deep inside, beneath that cold exterior, a faint, restless tension slowly stirred.
She stood in front of the refrigerator. Condensation blurred the glass door, but it did nothing to hide the neat rows of canned beer behind it.
The bright red "Minors Prohibited From Drinking Alcohol" sign hung eye-catchingly above—like an invisible chain wrapped around a dangerous desire.
Her fingertips unconsciously traced the cold glass surface.
Her heartbeat began to quicken.
That old, cold thrill from her junior-high shoplifting days crept back up her spine like crawling vines. Stealing—not because she wanted the beer, but because she craved the secret rush, the sense of taking control, the satisfaction of breaking a rule. Her fingers twitched.
Her breathing grew slightly unsteady. Her gaze locked onto a single can in the back corner of the freezer. Its plain white packaging and simple logo made it almost invisible among the colorful drinks around it—yet it drew her in like a magnet.
Pick it up… slip it into the bag… it only takes a second…
If someone sees? Just disciplinary trouble…
The employees are busy… no one's watching this area… perfect chance…
Two contradictory impulses clashed violently in her mind, pulling her nerves taut.
The urge to steal and the fear of being caught left a cold sweat on her back. Her knuckles tightened around the shopping basket.
She felt her cheeks grow warm.
Just then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed movement in the prepared food section across from the refrigerator.
Kamuro's gaze sharpened.
A tasting stand?Sakamoto?
She saw Sakamoto holding three items in his left hand—a white bar of soap, a basic plastic toothbrush, and a bottle of clear unscented shampoo—balanced elegantly as though he were holding a tray of fine art.
In his right hand, he held a tiny bamboo tasting fork.
He leaned forward slightly and used the fork to pick up a small cube of sample sausage.
He did not eat it immediately.
He lifted it toward his eyes, calmly examining it the way one might admire a miniature sculpture.
Only then did he place it into his mouth—chewing slowly, posture relaxed and focused, as though savoring a tasting course at a Michelin restaurant.
His elegant composure clashed bizarrely with the simplicity of a convenience store sampling corner—and somehow merged into a strangely captivating sight.
Kamuro felt the absurdity hit her.
This guy—The one who seemed to already understand the S-System's secrets—was taste-testing free sausages like a gourmet critic?
And moving with such ridiculous elegance?
Her expression, usually flat and icy, flickered with visible confusion.
But that confusion was quickly overwhelmed by a stronger impulse.
She inhaled sharply and tried to steady herself.
She turned away from the refrigerator, wandered through a few aisles, picking up and putting down random items with no intention of buying them.
Her mind was a chaotic swirl—images of Sakamoto's calm posture and the cold beer can battled for dominance.
Finally, she returned to the refrigerator.
This time, impulse crushed reason.
Without hesitation, almost on instinct, she pulled open the freezer door and reached straight for the white can hidden in the far back. The metal's coldness sent a shock through her fingertips.
She slipped it into her shoulder bag in one fluid motion.
Clink.
The faint sound of the zipper sliding closed was barely audible.
She shut the refrigerator door and headed toward the cashier with calm, practiced movements—her face the same indifferent mask as always.
Only she knew the cold weight in her bag and the rapid beat of her heart were twisting together into a suffocating sensation.
A short line had formed at the counter. Kamuro stood at the end, expression unchanged. She held a shopping bag with only a carton of milk and a rice ball, and walked forward with her head lowered, face indifferent as ever.
The cashier, a young girl, skillfully scanned the items.
"That will be 200 points, student."
Her voice was crisp.
Kamuro took out her phone and tapped the payment screen. She could feel the outline of the stolen beer can pressing against the inside of her bag.
Beep.
Payment successful.
She picked up her bag and turned to leave.
"Excuse me. Please wait a moment."
A clear, gentle voice rose behind her—soft, not loud, yet impossible to ignore.
Kamuro froze.She slowly turned her head, a blade-like glint flashing in her purple eyes.
Sakamoto stood a few steps behind her.
As always, he held the bar of soap, brush, and shampoo in his left hand as though displaying artwork.
But in his right hand—In his right hand was a canned drink.
A simple white can.Plain packaging.Nearly identical to the one hidden in her bag.
Kamuro's pupils tightened.
Already found out?That fast?
She kept her expression controlled, tightening her grip slightly on her shopping bag—waiting for Sakamoto to speak.
A reprimand? A report to the teacher?
Kamuro had already begun calculating the consequences and formulating countermeasures.
But Sakamoto's expression held no accusation, no anger—only a gentle, almost benevolent concern. His gaze calmly dropped to Kamuro's slightly bulging shoulder bag, and his voice remained soft:
"Your bag,"
He paused—his tone clear and steady.
"It seems we forgot to pay for something."
Kamuro's heart sank, though her face stayed indifferent.
As expected.She didn't bother denying it—she simply began planning how to extract herself.
Being caught purchasing a restricted item was troublesome, but not fatal.
She reached into her shoulder bag, ready to remove the can of beer. Since she'd been caught, there was no meaning in hiding it now.
But the moment her fingers touched the metal, a strange chill ran through them. Instinctively, she looked down—
The packaging was white, yes, but the familiar beer logo was gone.
Instead, on the can was a simple fruit icon and clean text:
"100% Natural Mixed Fruit Juice (Non-Alcoholic)"
Juice?! Not beer?!
Kamuro froze. The indifferent façade on her face cracked for the first time—leaving only confusion and disbelief.
She knew she grabbed the beer. She remembered its exact position. There was no way she had mistaken it.
Unless…
Her pupils trembled as she shot her gaze up at Sakamoto.
Sakamoto looked back calmly, the faintest smile touching the corners of his lips.
He didn't say anything. He simply nodded at the juice in her hand… while gently shaking the same white-packaged juice can in his own right hand.
Kamuro instantly understood.
It was him.It had to be him.
While she wandered restlessly around the store after stealing the can, he had already—quietly, elegantly—swapped the beer for a juice can with nearly identical packaging.
And the can in his hand now was the proof.
He had seen through her intentions from the very beginning.
Yet he didn't expose her, didn't call the staff, didn't embarrass her.
He simply rewrote the situation…and protected her.
He even brought a matching can of juice, just so the story would hold.
A mix of shock, confusion, relief, and something inexplicably warm surged through her chest.
She took a deep breath, calming her trembling heart, then handed the juice to the cashier. Her voice cracked slightly:
"This… I'll pay for this too."
"Of course, student."
The cashier scanned it with a smile, unaware of the storm that had just been defused.
"Including the juice, that'll be 300 points."
Beep.
Payment successful.
Kamuro picked up her bag—milk, rice ball, juice—and walked toward the exit.
Everything looked normal.
Just as she reached the door—
A clear, gentle voice drifted toward her:
"Minors are not allowed to drink alcohol."
Not loud, not scolding—more like a soft reminder carried by a breeze.
Then, with a subtle hint of humor:
"Let's have some juice together next time."
Kamuro didn't stop walking. She pushed open the door and stepped outside.
The moment she entered the busy walkway, the air hit her like a wave.
Masumi Kamuro stood still, clutching her bag, her purple eyes narrowing slightly.
A surge of heat rushed to her cheeks. Her ears burned instantly.
Have juice… together?
Her purple hair fluttered in the wind, revealing flushed cheeks she herself didn't notice.
In the fading sunlight, her eyes shimmered with a complex mixture—confusion, lingering fear, shyness…
…and a faint, quiet flutter of excitement she didn't yet understand.
As dusk settled, the remaining crimson of the sky dyed the clouds.
The tree-lined path to the dormitories was covered in cherry blossoms, petals drifting down and forming a pink carpet across the ground.
Sakamoto's figure appeared at the far end of the road.
Instead of walking down the center, he stepped onto the narrow curb edge. In his left hand he held the three items—plain white soap, a basic toothbrush, and unscented shampoo—balanced as if they were precious treasures.