Chapter 222: Fuyuji Mikage: Watch My Pro Gamer Moves!

The next day, another weekend.

The sun was bright and beautiful, the northwest wind a gentle force three, the temperature crisp and cool—perfect weather for going out.

The afternoon sunlight slanted through the balcony and into the room. The wind slipped through the gap in the balcony door, stirring the pale green curtains, lifting and lowering them soundlessly in the air...

The room was spotless. The floor gleamed. The books and stationery on the desk were neatly arranged to one side. The blanket on the bed was folded with precision. The cooking utensils atop the kitchen counter were numerous yet not cluttered... Everything had been tidied into perfect, meticulous order.

In the center of the room, Horikita Suzune, dressed in loose, beige lounge wear, knelt in seiza upon the carpet, her long, shapely legs pressed neatly together. Leaning forward slightly, her slender fingers gently cradled Fuyuji Mikage's head.

The sunlight danced upon the crown of her jet-black hair.

"Back in middle school, Kushida-san was probably much the same as she is now—leaving a very good impression, the grade's most popular student."

The girl lowered her head, a few strands of hair cascading down beside her cheeks. Holding her breath, she carefully guided the soft ear pick toward his ear.

"Mm-hmm?"

Fuyuji lay with his cheek pressed against Horikita's fair, smooth thigh, facing her belly. The tip of his nose brushed against the soft fabric. Closing his eyes, he spoke in a lazy, languid tone.

"And then?"

"And then..." Her eyelids fluttered faintly. Her deft wrist moved bit by bit. Unconsciously, she lowered her head another degree, her jet-black hair—lustrous as the blackest ink—cascading down with the motion. "I don't really know the specifics. I only heard about it in passing— Nn, don't move!"

Horikita's breath caught for an instant. A warm sensation transmitted from the direction of her lower abdomen, and faint, bashful flush instantly climbed onto her face. Without the slightest courtesy, she slapped Fuyuji across the back.

"If you lick me again, I'll kill you!"

The great gourmet Fuyuji smacked his lips a couple of times and rendered his assessment. "Doesn't really taste like anything. Even though it smells so good—"

Feeling the bone-chilling cold pressing down like a black cloud, Fuyuji tactfully shut his mouth. Yet his arm, pushing his luck, reached upward and wrapped around the girl's slender waist. Burying his entire face even deeper into the softness of Horikita's belly, he spoke in a muffled voice, as if from inside a jar..

"I won't say another word. Suzune, continue."

"..."

Her delicate fist clenched—then went limp and powerless.

Horikita drew a deep breath. Her chest rose and fell visibly beneath the loose lounge wear, tracing a perfect curve.

Don't get angry, don't get angry. She'd chosen this guy herself. There was no room for regret now.

If it really came down to it, she'd just have to kill him first, then commit suicide. That way, at least she wouldn't bring shame to the Horikita family.

"Apparently, it was because of a certain female student. The entire class collapsed and fell apart. Then the news immediately spread throughout the school. Right up until graduation, that class never returned to its original state."

"That female student was Kushida-san?" The sensation of breathing—warm, then warmer still—transmitted once more. But this time, it was someone's gradually heating breath.

Forcibly suppressing that faint tremor, Horikita continued lowering her head and focused on the task at hand. "Yes. I heard the entire classroom became a complete mess. Graffiti—slanderous, defamatory—was scrawled everywhere. In the end, it escalated into the entire class collectively absenting themselves."

"So that... is her secret?" The breathing in her arms suddenly grew calm and steady. Fuyuji's voice carried a trace of some indistinct, unreadable emotion.

"I don't know either. That's probably not the whole story. Only Kushida-san herself knows the full details." Horikita pulled out another cotton swab. "Turn around!"

"Oh."

Lifting his head, Fuyuji swiftly rose and came around to Horikita's other side. Lying back down, his body executed a full one-hundred-and-eighty-degree pivot, exposing his other ear. Once again, he buried his face against Horikita's snow-white belly, even giving it a satisfied nuzzle.

"..."

Pressing a hand against her throbbing, pulsing temple, Horikita let out a long sigh.

"How can there exist someone as shameless as you?"

"Hurry up, hurry up."

A muffled voice emerged. Groping blindly, Fuyuji seized that pale, tender wrist and guided it toward his own ear.

"Suzune-oneesan~"

"Hopeless." Horikita rendered her assessment. Letting out a long sigh, she resumed the motions of her hands.

Five minutes later.

Setting the tools aside, Horikita stroked Fuyuji's hair, her lashes trembling faintly.

"That's more or less the situation. Later, it seems the school administration, to prevent the incident from escalating further, suppressed the matter. Gradually, no one brought it up anymore. Still, this incident probably left a considerable knot in Kushida-san's heart. That's why she's so desperate—by any means necessary—to make me drop out."

Lying upon that jade-like thigh, admiring the elegant curve above her lower abdomen, Fuyuji's mouth twitched. In a somber, drawn-out voice, he spoke.

"Wrong, Suzune. I don't think that's the main reason."

"It's not?"

Horikita lowered her head and gazed at Fuyuji. Her shapely brows furrowed slightly.

"Why is Kushida-san in Class D?" Fuyuji offered a hint.

Her expression shifted subtly. Horikita's pupils contracted faintly. The threads of her thoughts connected in an instant. "You mean... she was placed in Class D because of this? The school also knows about this matter?"

"It seems the school conducts background checks before admitting students."

As he spoke, Fuyuji's gaze began to drift. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of image he himself presented in the school's background check.

"Since there were others—why does Kushida-san keep fixating on me and refusing to let go?"

"Well..." Fuyuji let out two dry laughs.

It was probably that accursed, bizarre genetic quirk running in the Horikita family bloodline...

"Come to think of it, Fuyuji-kun..." Horikita's gaze turned cold and piercing. Her nails, trimmed smooth and without the slightest edge, lightly scraped against his cheek. "Did you know all along that Kushida-san had another side to her?"

"Even you figured it out. How could I possibly not have?" Fuyuji blinked and admitted it with open frankness.

"I recall the two of you also have a fairly good relationship?"

"Look at you, saying that. Isn't my relationship with you just as good?"

Horikita was momentarily choked speechless by this brazen, self-righteous sophistry. Decisively, she chose to skip this topic and get straight to the point. Slowly extending both hands, she cupped Fuyuji's cheeks. Lowering her head, her captivating fox-like eyes stared directly into Fuyuji's own. Her delicate lips parted softly.

"Help me..." Her voice was light and airy—completely different from her usual cold, icy tone.

"Help you with what?"

An ominous premonition stirred in the depths of Fuyuji's heart. A bead of cold sweat slowly slid down his forehead.

"Judging by the degree of disgust Kushida-san currently holds toward me—I've determined that even if I truly defeat her, she may very well tear up the contract and simply choose to drop out. Help me persuade Kushida-san. Ask her, at the very least, to stop betraying Class D. To be honest—I don't want her to drop out. If possible, I'd rather not even have this competition at all."

"..." Suzune, you read people far too accurately!

The legs braced against the carpet abruptly exploded with force. Like a serpent, Fuyuji's entire body slid off those fair, lickable-for-a-year thighs of Horikita's and soundlessly slithered toward the door.

"I just remembered—I left the gas on at home. I need to hurry back. Suzune, anoth—"

Before the words could finish, Horikita had already pressed her entire weight down onto Fuyuji's back. Her knee braced against his lower back, pinning his arms behind him in a lock.

"I paid you your reward. Don't even think about running!" Her usually icy voice now, against all odds, carried a trace of barely perceptible laughter.

"Treacherous! Cunning!"

Fuyuji struggled and protested loudly.

"I was wondering why you were being so nice today—suddenly giving me a lap pillow and cleaning my ears! I thought you'd turned over a new leaf, drawn to me by my noble character! I never imagined you were setting a trap for me!"

"Shut up." In that very instant, a flush of visible crimson spread across Horikita's face. Mortified and indignant, she snapped. "Didn't you swindle me the exact same way before?"

"Ah... well..." Fuyuji had no rebuttal.

Before the uninhabited island exam last time, he had indeed forced a buy-or-else deal on Horikita, saddling her with over a hundred thousand in debt—a debt she still hadn't finished paying off even now.

"You're asking far too much of me. Let me tell you—that woman is fierce to an explosive degree~"

Seeing that Fuyuji now showed signs of willingness to cooperate, Horikita slowly released him and drew back.

"Then I'll take a step back. Just have Kushida-san honor the wager and cooperate with me in rising to Class A."

"But Suzune..." Fuyuji lay sprawled on the floor. In a somber, drawn-out voice, he spoke. "I'm from Class A, you know. This is a clear-cut act of aiding the enemy."

Silence descended upon Horikita. She seemed not to have considered this problem before.

A long moment passed.

"If Class D is too weak—won't Class A's victory feel empty and unearned?" Horikita proposed a countermeasure, attempting to break through with wisdom.

"I actually quite enjoy stomping on noobs."

"Consider it a personal favor I owe you. I'll repay it."

Ho ho~ She was playing the favor card now. It seemed she had made considerable progress during this period.

"When are you paying back the money you owe me?"

"Then—if one day our class rises to Class A—I'll buy you over." At last, she brought out the ultimate technique she had learned during this time—the exchange of benefits!

"Suzune-oneesan, surely you jest?"

The scene once again sank into silence. Puzzled, Fuyuji turned his head back and asked softly.

"Suzune?"

Upon the girl's fair, porcelain-white skin—even her earlobes were now dyed a faint shade of pink. Horikita stubbornly gazed elsewhere. That perfect profile of hers grew increasingly flushed with each faintly quickened breath.

A single pinky finger slowly extended before Fuyuji. The other fingers curled inward. Her thumb pressed down over the greater part of her pinky, leaving only a tiny sliver exposed.

"I'll let you kiss me once. Just one touch. Just a tiny bit. No more..." Her voice was so soft it seemed about to scatter and vanish upon the wind in the very next second.

With a sharp whoosh, an afterimage shot up from the ground.

In that flash of lightning, Fuyuji reached out and swept Horikita into his arms.

Chuuuuuu~~~

A kissing sound—so long its end could not be seen—rang out within the room. Horikita's cool, clear eyes flew wide open. Her hands subconsciously gripped the front of Fuyuji's clothes.

"You bastard! Didn't I say just one kiss?!"

Chuuuuuu~~~

"Still kissing!" Her cheeks now burning hot, Horikita's palms feebly, powerlessly patted against Fuyuji's chest.

Chuuuuuu~~~

The resounding, ringing sound began to gradually weaken. The volume lowered, bit by bit, until finally it dwindled away into nothing... And then—the sound of rapid panting rose.

A few minutes later.

Staring blankly at her own reflection in the mirror—at the red mark now visible upon her profile—Horikita wrenched her head around and glared at Fuyuji with murderous, seething fury.

"If you can't pull this off—you're dead!" Every word, every syllable, carried shards of ice.

At this moment, Fuyuji—his mood supremely elated—puffed out his chest and spoke with heroic bravado. "Suzune, I have a plan that will absolutely ensure Kushida Kikyo no longer targets your class."

"What is it?"

"Lend me your ear. Allow me to explain in detail."

And so—a certain similar scene once again played out in Horikita's room. She subconsciously leaned her ear in close.

"This and that, so on and so forth, abra-abracadabra..."

"Will this really work?" Horikita expressed her doubts.

Fuyuji nodded with solemn gravity. "Trust me."

"Fine. But according to your plan—there's still one more matter I need your help with."

"What?" Fuyuji stared blankly.

A fair, unadorned hand extended, five fingers spreading to reveal a bare palm. Horikita's face was faintly flushed.

"Lend me some points."

The very next second, Fuyuji laughed so hard he honked like a goose.

...

An hour later, around the low central table in Horikita's room, three figures sat gathered. The air was saturated with a solemn, chilly atmosphere.

Fuyuji sat in the very center. Horikita Suzune and Kushida Kikyo sat on either side, facing off in silent standoff across the table.

"What happened to your face?"

Kushida's single sentence utterly slaughtered the low-pressure atmosphere in the room.

Horikita's body stiffened for a moment. Shooting a glare at Fuyuji—who was clenching his fist and desperately suppressing his laughter—she placed both hands on her thighs, straightened her back in proper seiza, and, as though nothing were the matter, spoke in an icy tone. "Just bitten by a mosquito. Kushida-san, let us begin."

"In such a hurry to drop out, Horikita-san?" Kushida revealed a sweetly innocent smile.

"You're quite confident yourself, aren't you?"

"Of course. If I weren't absolutely certain of defeating Horikita-san, I wouldn't have chosen this."

"No. The one who wins will be me."

In that very instant, an aura of confidence simultaneously swirled and coiled around the two of them.

Just then—Fuyuji, who had been silently shrinking off to the side the entire time, pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket with the utmost solemnity. His expression grave, he spoke.

"Horikita-san, Kushida-san—do the two of you confirm that you wish to proceed with this wager? There is still time to back out now!"

"Yes." Horikita inclined her chin lightly.

"That's right." An excited smile surfaced on Kushida's face.

"Then the contract shall stipulate that in the mathematics examination of the upcoming final exam—the one with the lower score shall be left to the disposal of the one with the higher score. How about it?" Fuyuji looked left and right at the two of them.

"Acceptable."

"I can hardly wait."

"Then... please, both of you, sign the contract."

The moment the pen was in their hands—both simultaneously hesitated for an almost imperceptible instant. But in the end, they still signed their names upon the contract.

After confirming there were no errors, Fuyuji kept his face taut and announced in a deep, solemn voice:

"Very well. I, under the authority of Student Council Vice President Katsuragi Kohei, guarantee that this contract is hereby formally established."

...As if!

In truth—this was nothing more than a worthless scrap of paper. As long as it wasn't taken to Katsuragi to be entered into the Student Council records, it carried absolutely no binding force whatsoever.

Shouldering the position of Katsuragi Kohei—you two, go forth and gallop freely across this exam to your hearts' content!

Defeat Horikita Suzune?

I'll help!

Want Cha-Cha to stop backstabbing?

I'll help!

The Holy Grail version of Fuyuji Mikage treated all equally, satisfying every need of both young ladies.

As for whether the final outcome would be as the two of them wished—that, Fuyuji could not say.

"Since the contract is now complete—I shall take my leave first. Horikita-san, I can already see the image of your defeat..."

Kushida's face still wore that sweet, honeyed smile. Gracefully, she tidied the hem of her skirt and slowly rose from the floor, dragging her footsteps.

"Take care. No need to see you out." Horikita still stood rooted in place.

"..." Gazing blankly at Horikita for a moment, Kushida suddenly burst out laughing. "As I thought—I truly do detest you from the bottom of my heart. Every time I'm in your presence, it fills me with irritation."

"In truth—I, too, cannot comprehend your way of doing things, Kushida-san. And indeed, I also have no desire to be in your company."

Kushida strode toward the door.

"As expected—we are destined to be unable to coexist within the same space."

"If you insist on believing so—I admit that I am indeed powerless to change that."

"Goodbye..." Kushida grasped the door handle.

"Goodbye." Horikita gazed at Kushida's retreating figure.

Clatter—!

A sound—neither too loud nor too soft—rang out abruptly within the room. Kushida tried to twist the door open. Yet, against all expectations, the door did not open as she had imagined.

"How stubborn—just like its owner. Even the door is this rigid." Kushida pursed her lips and once again directed her mockery at her nemesis. "Is this how you usually open the door?"

"How could that be..."

Horikita furrowed her brow and came to Kushida's side. Her fair hand grasped the door handle.

Clatter—!

The door did not budge.

Clatter—!!

With several increasingly forceful twists of the handle, Horikita's movements began to grow frantic and agitated.

Clatter————!

In this very moment—Kushida Kikyo and Horikita Suzune, these sworn nemeses, seemed to finally realize something. Exchanging a glance, each saw the shock reflected in the other's eyes. Simultaneously, they turned their heads.

At some unknown point, Fuyuji had already stepped out onto the balcony. His back facing the room, his hands clasped behind him, he leisurely gazed out at the distant scenery. The afternoon sunlight traced the silhouette of his tall, straight figure. The gentle breeze stirred the stray locks of his hair.

"Aiya. As expected of the twelfth floor. The view really is lovely. Blue skies, white clouds—even the mosquitoes can't fly up this high."

"..."

The room sank into a deathly silence.

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50 [Power Stones] = Bonus Chapter!