At Tokyo International Exhibition Center, the afternoon sunlight pierced through the enormous glass dome and poured over the bustling crowd below.
The climax of the Comic Convention had already passed, and the atmosphere now carried the lingering excitement and exhaustion left behind after a grand feast.
Inside the photography area of East Hall 3, Kitagawa Mimu still remained the center of attention.
The “Kuroe Shizuku” cosplay outfit modified by Fujiwara Ai displayed astonishing texture beneath the professional lighting.
Every fold of lace and every contour of the waistline looked as flawless as CG graphics brought into reality.
Combined with Marin’s naturally expressive performance and those soul-hooking crimson contact lenses, the surrounding camera shutters sounded endlessly like machine gun fire.
Meanwhile, Fujiwara Ai, the “hero behind the scenes” and official “bag carrier,” stood silently within the shadows like an emotionless sculpture.
Of course, this particular sculpture was a little too handsome.
Even after putting his mask and hat back on, the unique aura surrounding him still attracted nearby gazes like a magnet.
Many female cosplayers passing by unconsciously slowed their steps near him, while some bold girls dressed as succubi intentionally brushed their tails against his pant legs.
“Tsk.”
Fujiwara Ai frowned slightly before sidestepping another passerby pretending to stumble into his arms.
He genuinely couldn’t understand how this still happened despite the hat and mask.
Yotsuya Miko stayed glued to his side from beginning to end.
She tightly hugged Fujiwara Ai’s left arm while pressing nearly her entire body against him.
Her amber eyes, which normally carried traces of timidity, now scanned every nearby female like a highly alert radar.
Don’t look.
He’s mine.
Although she never said those words aloud, the possessiveness known as “food guarding” practically manifested itself physically, making nearby girls hesitate before quietly retreating.
Finally, the announcement signaling the end of the Comic Convention echoed throughout the venue.
Marin completed her photoshoot with lingering excitement still painted across her face.
Although sweat dampened her skin and her wig had become slightly messy, her expression remained dazzlingly bright.
“That was amazing!
The photographer said he’ll finish editing the photos tonight and send them over!
Fujiwara san, thank you so much!
Without the outfit you fixed, I definitely would’ve ruined everything today!”
She excitedly rushed over with her arms spread wide, clearly aiming to throw herself into Fujiwara Ai’s embrace, only to be interrupted midway by Miko’s perfectly natural movement of reaching for something beside her.
“You’re welcome.”
Fujiwara Ai handed over the bag containing Marin’s casual clothes while calmly speaking.
“The outfit is yours now.”
“Mhm!
I’ll treasure it forever!
I’ll even hand wash it personally!”
Marin nodded enthusiastically, her eyes overflowing with admiration.
She glanced toward the darkening sky overhead.
Although she clearly wanted to continue chatting, she also understood that the “gatekeeper” standing beside Fujiwara Ai definitely wasn’t easy to deal with.
“Um…
even though I really don’t want to leave, I still need to remove my makeup and change clothes.
So…
can we hang out again next time?”
She stared at Fujiwara Ai with sparkling puppy-like eyes resembling a golden retriever begging for another walk.
“We’ll see.”
Fujiwara Ai responded with his standard cold and aloof answer that sounded suspiciously close to scumbag behavior.
After finally seeing Marin off, Fujiwara Ai and Miko began their journey home.
Because it was peak departure time, the Yurikamome Line had become packed beyond belief.
Fujiwara Ai could only act as a human shield once again, protecting Miko within the crowded corner of the train.
This time, however, Miko wasn’t trembling because of the terrifying things only she could see.
Instead, she quietly leaned against Fujiwara Ai’s chest while listening to the calm and steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
To her, it was the most reassuring sound in the entire world.
But…
Miko slowly raised her gaze toward Fujiwara Ai’s jawline as indescribable bitterness spread through her chest.
Today’s Comic Convention had shown her a completely different world.
That blonde girl was dazzling and confident, shining beneath the spotlight like someone born to stand at the center of attention.
Meanwhile Bocchi, despite being socially anxious, became unbelievably cool whenever she picked up a guitar.
And herself?
Other than seeing disgusting spirits, screaming in fear, relying on him constantly, and clinging to him like a burden…
what else could she offer him?
If one day Ai kun met a better and more normal girl, would he eventually begin finding her troublesome?
Would he…
abandon her?
That fear of being discarded gnawed relentlessly at her heart like a poisonous snake, tightening around her sensitive nerves until she could barely breathe.
By the time they returned to the apartment, it was already past eight at night.
The moment Fujiwara Ai stepped inside and changed his shoes, a new system notification suddenly appeared.
This mission unexpectedly involved Yamada Ryo, who only briefly appeared earlier at the Comic Convention.
[Ding!
Side Mission Triggered: The Gluttonous Bassist and the Trap]
[Target: Yamada Ryo]
[Description: This seemingly cool bassist is actually an ultimate trash woman who would eat grass just to buy instruments and never repay borrowed money.]
[Mission Requirement: The system will provide a special fund with unlimited credit access strictly for lending to Yamada Ryo.
Please lend her as much money as possible.]
[Mission Reward: Charisma +1, Skill: [Perfect Pitch (Advanced)], Special Item: [Creditor Contract]]
Fujiwara Ai looked at the absurd mission description and the corner of his mouth unconsciously lifted slightly.
After several days of soul fusion, tiny expressions like this no longer caused unbearable tearing pain.
At most, they only produced faint tingling sensations like static electricity.
He even felt his current “poker face” had gradually become more of a habit or a self-defense mechanism against trouble.
Occasionally revealing traces of genuine amusement actually felt strangely refreshing.
Still, he doubted a trash woman like Ryo would mentally collapse even if she owed him one hundred million yen.
He casually took out his phone and found Yamada Ryo’s contact information.
[Fujiwara Ai: I heard you’re eyeing a new bass guitar?]
An instant reply arrived.
[Ryo: ?
How did you know?
unfortunately it’s way too expensive, so I’m considering selling a kidney.]
[Fujiwara Ai: No need to sell a kidney.
Send me your account number.]
[Ryo: ?!
Really?
Aren’t you usually super stingy?
Did someone hack your account?
Or do you secretly like me?]
[Fujiwara Ai: The interest rate is high.]
[Ryo: Doesn’t matter.
As long as I get the bass, I’d even sell my soul.
Account number: XXXX-XXXX…]
Without hesitation, Fujiwara Ai instructed the system to transfer one million yen.
The other side remained silent for an entire minute.
Then a voice message suddenly arrived.
Ryo’s voice sounded slightly shaky, mixed with audible swallowing sounds.
Clearly, even she had been stunned by such an outrageous amount of money.
“Um…
Fujiwara Boss?
Starting today you’re officially my big brother.
Just say the word if you need anything.
Anything except paying you back.”
Fujiwara Ai quietly chuckled.
This was merely the beginning.
Once that debt snowballed into an astronomical number, this trash bassist would finally understand the true cruelty of society.
“Ai kun?”
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.
Fujiwara Ai returned to reality and realized Miko was already standing in front of him.
She had clearly finished bathing and changed into his oversized white shirt.
Because of the hot shower, her skin carried faint pink traces while her damp black hair draped softly over her shoulders, releasing the refreshing scent of body wash.
It was the mint fragrance Fujiwara Ai normally used himself, but when mixed with Miko’s natural scent, it gained an extra sweetness unique to young girls.
The shirt buttons were only fastened up to her chest.
Every slight movement caused the wide collar to loosen, revealing her delicate collarbones and the soft curves hidden beneath.
This was clearly intentional.
“What are you smiling about?”
Miko tilted her head while staring at him.
Although she smiled softly, traces of unease and probing intent lingered within her eyes as if trying to decipher the meaning behind his expression.
“Are you chatting with…
Bocchi?
Or Kitagawa san?”
“No.”
Fujiwara Ai calmly put away his phone without explaining further.
“Just work related stuff.”
“Work…”
Miko didn’t continue asking questions.
Or rather, she didn’t dare continue.
She feared hearing an answer she didn’t want.
Slowly walking toward Fujiwara Ai, she gently held his hand.
“Ai kun, go take a bath.”
“The water is already ready.”
Fujiwara Ai nodded before standing up and heading toward the bathroom.
Warm water streamed over his body, washing away the fatigue accumulated throughout the day, though it couldn’t wash away the strange atmosphere quietly spreading through the apartment.
After finishing his bath, Fujiwara Ai walked out while drying his hair, only to discover that the living room lights had already been turned off.
Only a faint yellow glow seeped out from the bedroom as though silently guiding him forward.
He walked toward the bedroom door.
The door remained slightly open.
Pushing it open further, he stepped inside.
Miko sat quietly on the bed.
She wasn’t beneath the blanket.
Instead, she hugged her knees tightly while curling herself against the headboard.
The dim bedside lamp cast elongated shadows against the wall, making her look unusually lonely.
Hearing the door open, she slowly raised her head.
Within those amber eyes shimmered watery light that looked ready to overflow at any moment.
What filled them now was no longer fear.
It was determination.
A desperate yearning that seemed prepared to burn everything away.
“Ai kun…”
She softly called out, her voice slightly hoarse.
Fujiwara Ai walked over before sitting quietly at the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong?
Still scared?”
He initially assumed the incident with the female spirit yesterday still haunted her, or perhaps the crowded Comic Convention had overwhelmed her emotionally.
“No.”
Miko gently shook her head.
She reached out and tightly grabbed the hem of Fujiwara Ai’s clothes, gripping hard enough that her knuckles turned pale.
“I’m not afraid of ghosts anymore.”
“As long as I’m beside Ai kun, those things don’t scare me.”
“The one I’m afraid of…
is you.”
“Afraid of me?”
Fujiwara Ai raised an eyebrow slightly in surprise.
“Yes.”
Miko lowered her head while her trembling voice slowly escaped from deep within her chest.
“Today at the Comic Convention…
“And they all liked you.
I could tell.”
“Ai kun is kind…
strong…
gentle…”
“If one day…
if one day Ai kun grows tired of me and doesn’t want me anymore…”
Her voice gradually weakened until it dissolved into quiet sobbing.
That fear of being abandoned continuously devoured her heart like venomous poison.
For a girl who had already lost her father and barely saw her mother, Fujiwara Ai had become her only remaining light, the final warmth she managed to grasp while drowning within endless darkness.
If this light disappeared, she would completely sink back into that cold and terrifying abyss.
She couldn’t imagine living without him.
Not even for a single second.
“I won’t.”
Fujiwara Ai gently raised his hand and stroked her hair.
“I already told you.
As long as you’re obedient.”
“I am obedient!”
Miko immediately looked up, tears trembling inside her eyes while desperately trying to prove herself.
“No matter what Ai kun asks me to do…
I’ll do it willingly!”
“Cooking, cleaning, laundry, even…
even more excessive things…
I’m willing!”
“So…”
Suddenly releasing his clothes, she placed both hands against the bed before slowly leaning closer toward him.
They were both old enough to fully understand what this moment meant.
As she moved, the loose collar of the oversized shirt slid down one shoulder, exposing large portions of smooth white skin.
Their recent “cohabitation” had already caused subtle changes within Miko.
Her body, once thin and pale from constant fear and spiritual exhaustion, had gradually become softer and more curvaceous under the nourishment of Fujiwara Ai’s [God Tier Cooking].
While kneeling atop the bed, her waist looked slim enough to fit within one hand, yet the curves of her chest remained unexpectedly full.
The oversized shirt failed to hide her figure.
Instead, it only amplified the temptation through its dangerous sense of intimacy.
Her skin glowed pale and smooth like polished jade.
Beneath her delicate collarbones, faint blue veins could even be seen, adding fragile beauty to her appearance.
Her palm-sized face had already flushed crimson from nervousness and excitement.
“Ai kun…”
“Only like this…
can I truly feel at ease.”
“I want to become…
Ai kun’s person.”
“I want my entire body…
covered completely in Ai kun’s scent.”
Her trembling voice overflowed with shyness, yet remained incomparably firm.
This was no longer merely a confession.
It was a plea.
A ritual offering both body and soul.
Slowly, she closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly upward.
Her trembling eyelashes cast delicate shadows beneath the dim lighting as though quietly awaiting final judgment.
Fujiwara Ai silently stared at her.
A sweet fragrance drifted throughout the room.
It was the natural scent unique to young girls mixed together with body wash and hormones.
His gaze slowly drifted from her trembling eyelashes toward her slightly parted lips before finally stopping at her fragile pale neck.
At this moment, even the 80 point charisma enhanced [Succubus Aura] seemed to backfire against him.
His heartbeat had already become chaotic.
Facing a beautiful girl who relied on him so completely and willingly offered everything she had, claiming he felt nothing would be a lie.
Moreover, the system showed no intention of stopping him.
Instead, the previously silent [Affection Panel] now flashed wildly.
[Notification: Yotsuya Miko’s emotional value has surpassed the critical threshold.]
[At this moment, she completely belongs to you.
As long as you nod, she will fall entirely.]
Fujiwara Ai slowly took a deep breath.
Then he reached forward and gently lifted Miko’s chin.
His fingertips felt cool against her skin.
“Do you understand what this means?”
His voice sounded low and hoarse while carrying traces of danger.
“I know…”
Miko answered without hesitation, her eyes burning feverishly.
“Freedom and things like that…
I don’t need them.”
“As long as I have Ai kun…
I don’t care even if it’s a cage.”
Fujiwara Ai smiled.
Not a fake social smile.
Not a perfunctory expression.
But a genuine smile carrying traces of dangerous wickedness.
Enhanced by 80 charisma points, that smile possessed destructive power no different from a nuclear weapon.
“Then…
as you wish.”
The next second.
Unlike their previous brief touches, this was a real kiss.
Possessive.
Passionate.
Filled with overwhelming intent to claim her completely.
“Mmph…”