The afternoon sun shone through the tall windows of the school building, casting bright patches of light on the corridor. Kanjuro was about to find a quiet place to spend his lunch break when he heard familiar voices around the corner.
It was Miura Yumiko and her best friend, Ebina Hina. They were leaning by the window, seemingly discussing something. Kanjuro stopped, concealed in the shadow of the corner, listening with interest.
"Honestly," Miura Yumiko said, crossing her arms, her tone laced with annoyance and a hint of imperceptible vexation, "I'm not interested in weaklings like Yuigahama! She clearly wasn't paying attention yesterday and was slow to react..." She paused, her voice slightly lower, revealing genuine worry. "But the problem is, I really didn't mean to. What I fear most is being misunderstood by others, that they'll think I'm violent and intentionally bully classmates."
Ebina pushed up her glasses, her eyes twinkling slyly behind the lenses. She chuckled and asked in a low voice, "Yumiko, you care so much about what 'others' think... are you referring to Hayama Hayato, or... the new guy, Mr. Kanjuro~ huh?"
Two patches of red instantly flew up onto Miura Yumiko's cheeks. Her eyes darted away in a panic, and she insisted stubbornly, "O-of course it's... Kanjuro!" As if to convince herself, she added, "Hayato's looks and aura can't even compare to Kanjuro's, okay? And... Kanjuro, he always gives off a... very bad feeling." The last few words were almost whispered, tinged with shyness, yet strangely mixed with a thrill of being attracted to this "badness."
(A very bad feeling?) Kanjuro, hidden in the shadows, smiled silently. (What sharp intuition, Classmate Miura.)
He recalled yesterday by the tennis court, how she lost control because of him, venting her anger on Yui Yuigahama, culminating in that fierce ball that almost hit him. That strong emotional fluctuation, triggered by him, was merely another interesting toy reaction in his eyes.
He adjusted his expression, putting on his impeccable gentle mask, and leisurely strolled out from behind the corner, as if he had just been passing by.
Miura Yumiko, immersed in her private thoughts, looked up and saw the instigator of her distress. Her heart gave a sudden leap. She almost instinctively straightened her body, forcing her usual slightly arrogant signature expression onto her face, yet her voice carried a hint of imperceptible nervousness and excitement:
"Mr. Kanjuro! Good afternoon!"
Kanjuro stopped, his gaze resting on her. His lips curved into a perfect arc, neither distant nor overly enthusiastic: "Good afternoon, Classmate Miura, Classmate Ebina." His voice was gentle, but his eyes seemed to have hooks, lightly sweeping over Miura Yumiko's slightly flushed cheeks.
"Please don't dwell on what happened at the tennis court yesterday." He brought it up proactively, his tone sincere, as if genuinely trying to comfort her. "Accidents happen during sports, and I imagine Classmate Yuihama won't hold it against you." His words sounded forgiving, yet cleverly avoided the fact that he was the root cause of her distress.
Miura Yumiko was flustered by his gaze. All the previous thoughts about him being "bad" instantly vanished under his gentle look, leaving only her pounding heart. She quickly waved her hands: "N-no problem! I didn't mean to do it anyway!"
Kanjuro smiled, said nothing more, and simply nodded slightly before continuing forward, leaving them with his tall, slender figure walking away.
Only after he had walked far away did Miura Yumiko finally let out a long breath, feeling her cheeks still burning. She turned to Ebina, who wore an expression of "I understand," and angrily punched her: "W-what are you laughing at!"
Ebina adjusted her glasses and said meaningfully, "Nothing much, I just think... the way certain people pretend to be unaffected is truly adorable."
Miura Yumiko choked on her anger, unable to utter a rebuttal. She could only stare in the direction Kanjuro had disappeared, her heart in turmoil. That feeling—knowing the danger yet being irresistibly drawn to it—was like sweet poison beginning to spread through her heart.
Meanwhile, Kanjuro, who had walked away, was in a rather pleasant mood.
(Afraid of being seen as a violent person? Caring about my opinion?)
(What a simple and adorable concern.)
(It seems that Classmate Miura, who appears so strong, can also be thrown into confusion by just a little attention.)
(This school life truly never lacks amusement.) Kanjuro did not linger long during his afternoon stroll. An idea prompted him to turn and head toward the administrative area of the teaching building. He expertly made his way to the principal's office and pushed the door open without even knocking.
Inside the office, a woman in a smart business suit, whose capable demeanor was laced with charm, was working at her desk. She looked up at the sound, and upon seeing Kanjuro, her eyes showed no surprise, but rather a hint of submission and reliance. She was Morimoto Leona, the current principal of this school, and one of the many women marked by Kanjuro during his long existence.
"Xiao," her voice was soft, carrying an unspoken intimacy, "Do you need anything?"
Kanjuro walked behind the large desk and naturally sat down in the main chair, as if he were the owner of the place. He rested his chin on one hand, his gaze profound: "Help me retrieve a student file—Third Year Class C, Miura Yumiko."
Morimoto Leona had no questions and immediately started working on the computer. Soon, a detailed family background report was printed out, which she respectfully handed to Kanjuro.
Kanjuro's gaze quickly scanned the report. When he saw "Missing" marked in the "Father" column, along with the attached family photo, his eyes paused on the still-charming face of Miura Yumiko's mother, Tomoko Miura. A vague sense of familiarity flashed through his mind.
(This face... where have I seen it?)
He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the abyss of memories filled with dark rituals, frantic gasps, and soul-shrieks. Eighteen years ago, in the basement of the Sacred Scripture Academy Old School Building, the bloody ritual to seize the spear of longinus and the complete power of the dark bible... countless faces of women driven by desire and greed flashed through his mind. Most of them became "traces" that were erased afterward, but a few, like Yuigahama Yui, survived for various reasons and scattered.
He carefully compared the blurry faces in his memory fragments. Finally, a face that was seventy or eighty percent similar to the photo on the report, but younger and more frenzied, matched the name "Tomoko Miura"!
(It's her...) Kanjuro suddenly opened his eyes. A trace of disbelief flashed in the depths of his pupils, immediately replaced by an extremely excited glow, like that of discovering a new continent. (That woman who had a fervent look in her eyes during the ritual, who even approached me more actively than the others... is Miura Yumiko's mother?!)
What did this mean? It meant that Miura Yumiko, the third-year girl who acted haughty in front of him yet was thrown into confusion because of him, very likely had his blood flowing in her veins, just like Yui Yuigahama!
(Interesting... too interesting!) A twisted, almost trembling sense of pleasure swept over Kanjuro. He had thought Yui Yuigahama was an unexpected bonus, but now he realized another "daughter" was right before his eyes, existing in such a confrontational yet tense manner. This sudden discovery made him invest even greater enthusiasm into this school game.
When school ended in the evening, Kanjuro deliberately waited outside Yui Yuigahama's classroom. Seeing her pack her bag and walk out, he offered his usual gentle smile and greeted her actively: "Yui, going home together?"
Yui Yuigahama was clearly still angry about the events of last night and this morning. She glared fiercely at Kanjuro, let out a soft huff through her nose, turned her head, pretending not to hear, and quickened her pace, trying to slip past him.
This scene was witnessed by Miura Yumiko, who was also leaving her classroom. Seeing Yui Yuigahama treat Kanjuro so "disrespectfully," and recalling Kanjuro's "tolerant" attitude at noon, a mix of indignation on Kanjuro's behalf and the secret joy that "her chance had come" instantly surged into her heart.
She immediately adjusted her expression, put on what she thought was her most appropriate smile, and quickly walked up to Mr. Kanjuro, saying with concern, "Mr. Kanjuro, please don't worry about it. Classmate Yuihama might just be in a bad mood." She deliberately raised her voice, making sure Yui Yuigahama, who hadn't walked far, could hear her.
Yui Yuigahama indeed stopped. She turned around, looking at Miura Yumiko clinging to Kanjuro's side, feeling both angry and anxious. She couldn't help but shout, "Yumiko! Stay away from him! He... he's not a good person! You don't understand anything!"
Miura Yumiko was already frustrated about not having a chance to perform in front of Kanjuro, and now being openly "slandered" by Yui Yuigahama made her furious. She stepped forward, pointing at Yui Yuigahama, her voice becoming sharp: "Yui Yuigahama! You're the one who doesn't understand anything! Kanjuro-kun kindly helped you yesterday, and not only are you ungrateful, but you're also speaking ill of him here! My Tennis Club doesn't need a member who is ungrateful and slanders others behind their backs! You're fired!"
"What?!" Yui Yuigahama was thunderstruck, and tears instantly welled up in her eyes. The humiliation of being publicly expelled from the club, combined with her complicated and unspeakable feelings for Kanjuro, and the grievance of being misunderstood, made her lose control, and tears streamed down her face. She glared fiercely at Kanjuro and Miura Yumiko, then ran away crying.
Kanjuro took in the entire scene, feeling the drama was becoming more and more entertaining. He timely frowned, looked at Miura Yumiko, and spoke with a hint of disapproval and reproach: "Classmate Miura, you shouldn't have done that. Saying she's fired is too harsh."
Seeing that Kanjuro didn't seem angry, but rather "felt sorry" for Yuigahama, Miura Yumiko felt even more conflicted, yet she was also more certain that she was "defending" him. She quickly explained, "I just wanted to help Kanjuro-kun! Yuigahama speaking about you like that made me angry too!" She secretly observed Kanjuro's expression, and seeing that he didn't seem truly upset, she mustered her courage, cheeks slightly flushed, and extended an invitation: "Um... Kanjuro-kun, do you have time later? I know a great new dessert shop near the school. Could we... go eat together?"
·· 0 seeking fresh flowers 0 --- She looked up, her eyes filled with anticipation and subtle nervousness, completely immersed in the fantasy of having alone time with her crush after "speaking out righteously." She was totally unaware that the person she had just personally driven away might be her half-sister, nor did she realize what kind of dark abyss she was actively extending an invitation to.
Kanjuro looked at her, this mix of assertiveness and eagerness to please, and recalled her mother's face during the ritual eighteen years ago. The playful smile at the corner of his mouth deepened.
(Truly... a marvelous arrangement of fate.)
(Very well, let's start with you. Let me see how much amusement my other 'daughter' can bring me in this game.)
He nodded slightly, his voice so gentle it was intoxicating: "Alright, the pleasure is mine."
The setting sun dyed the sky a warm orange, coating the city streets with a soft golden edge. Kanjuro and Miura Yumiko walked side-by-side on the path leading to the park, the atmosphere subtle. Miura tried hard to maintain her usual proud posture, but her eyes kept drifting toward the extraordinarily handsome Kanjuro beside her, her heart beating ridiculously fast.
The park was shaded by green trees, and visitors were scarce at this hour. They walked to a secluded fountain, where the only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind and occasional bird calls. Miura Yumiko took a deep breath, gathered all her courage, suddenly stopped, and turned to face Kanjuro... 0 0
"Mr. Kanjuro!" Her voice trembled slightly from nervousness, and her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were exceptionally firm. "I... I have something I want to tell you!"
Kanjuro watched her calmly, a subtle, habitual, and inscrutable smile playing on his lips: "Hmm? What is it, Classmate Miura?"
"I... I like you!" Miura Yumiko practically shouted, nervously clutching the hem of her skirt with both hands. "Especially, especially like you! Ever since I first saw you...!"
She looked up, staring intensely at Kanjuro, as if pouring out her entire heart. "I like everything about you! The way you talk, the expression when you think, the way... the way you smile, especially that... that slightly wicked feeling!" She grew more excited as she spoke, increasing her pace, "And you're so handsome, and you have such good grades—you're simply... simply perfect!"
(Wicked feeling? Perfect?) Kanjuro sneered inwardly, a fleeting trace of faint annoyance crossing his eyes. (Truly... just like her mother. Eighteen years ago, Tomoko Miura was the same, drawn by the darkness and madness of the ritual site, actively approaching me, her eyes a mix of fear and infatuation. The power of the bloodline is indeed disappointingly strong.)
He looked at the face before him, which bore some resemblance to the woman in his memory and was currently filled with longing and desperation. A sense of flatness welled up in his heart. It was too easy. Moths that actively flew toward the flame like this reduced even the pleasure of the chase by half.
"Is that so..." Kanjuro's voice remained gentle, but beneath that gentleness was a cold sense of detachment. Instead of responding to her confession, he observed her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes with keen interest, as if admiring a toy about to be disassembled.
Miura Yumiko felt slightly unnerved by his gaze. The anticipated joy or response didn't arrive; instead, there was a feeling of... being scrutinized. Her inner unease gradually grew.
Kanjuro suddenly raised his hand, pointing toward a darker, more secluded grove deep within the park. His tone was casual, yet carried an undeniable guidance: "It looks quieter over there. How about... we take a walk in that direction?"
His gaze was profound, seeming to possess a power of temptation.
Miura Yumiko looked in the direction he pointed. The grove appeared somewhat eerie under the deepening twilight. An instinctive sense of fear ran up her spine, but looking at Kanjuro's handsome face so close, and the heartbreaking hint of "wickedness" in his eyes, the desire for excitement and exclusivity overwhelmed everything else. She bit her lip, suppressed her unease, and nodded vigorously.
"O-okay."
Kanjuro smiled slightly and led the way toward the grove. Miura Yumiko quickly followed, her heart pounding frantically in her chest, simultaneously anticipating the potential "romance" and faintly sensing the panic of stepping into the unknown.
She did not know that she was walking step-by-step not toward the sweet date she imagined, but toward a stage already prepared for her to reveal a cruel truth. Kanjuro's silhouette appeared tall and unfathomable in the dim light, like a Dark Priest leading a lost lamb to the altar.
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