The automatic doors of the shopping mall slid open, and a deafening roar of ambient noise rushed in to meet them.
It was a sea of people—a chaotic symphony of thousands of voices, pulsing music, and the aggressive glare of store lights.
Shiro, Kiyone, and Yuki froze in unison.
Their steps faltered.
Compared to the sterile, haunting silence of the White Room, this overwhelming chaos felt alien.
Shiro instinctively reached out, her fingers tightening around the edge of Kamiki’s jacket.
“There are too many people,” Shiro said, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant.
“How do they all stand each other?” Even Yuki had fallen silent, tucking herself safely behind Kamiki.
“It’s a little… suffocating,” she murmured.
Kamiki, however, was unfazed.
He navigated the cacophony with the practiced ease of someone who had lived through it a thousand times before.
Nothing here surprised him.
Tsubaki noticed his relaxed demeanor.
Unlike the girls, who were visibly tense and guarded, Kamiki looked as if he were walking through his own living room.
“You’re not nervous at all like they are,” Tsubaki noted, her gaze sharp with curiosity.
“Why?” Kamiki just shrugged, his eyes scanning the neon store signs.
“Of course not,” he replied.
“Why would I be intimidated by a bunch of nobodies?” Tsubaki frowned.
“Is it really logical to dismiss people as ‘nobodies’?” she challenged.
“They all have lives of their own.” Kamiki finally shifted his gaze to Tsubaki.
A faint, condescending, yet strangely possessive smile tugged at his lips.
“You’re someone important, Sakurako-chan,” he said, his voice softening unexpectedly.
“You matter to me.
Forget about the rest of them.” Tsubaki’s face turned bright red instantly.
He had used that name again.
“Stop calling me by that name!” she snapped.
Her voice rose, drawing a few glances from passersby.
“And cut out that ‘you matter to me’ nonsense!” “Why?” Kamiki asked, leaning in closer.
“Don’t you like it?” Shiro couldn’t take his brazen attitude any longer.
She moved with lightning speed, hooking her arm around Kamiki’s waist and giving him a sharp, forceful shove.
She held back enough strength to avoid causing real damage, but the impact was clear.
Kamiki didn’t feel pain, but he seized the moment, wincing theatrically.
“Ow!
Shiro-chan, that was harsh.” Shiro didn’t blink.
“Quit the act,” she said, her eyes icy.
“I told you to behave.” Tsubaki laughed at the scene.
“Serves you right,” she said.
“You had that coming.” Kamiki straightened his clothes, his eyes dancing.
“A wild one,” he said with a grin.
“I like it.” Shiro ignored him entirely and turned to the other girls.
“Let’s just go to the clothing store.” Yuki jumped at the suggestion.
“Great idea!
I need to see something beautiful.” Kiyone nodded.
“Let’s not waste any time.
That large store up ahead looks promising.” As they stepped inside, the icy, distant masks the girls usually wore began to crack.
The riot of colors on the racks, the soft texture of the fabrics, and the reflections in the mirrors were enough to captivate even the brilliant, conditioned minds from the White Room.
Shiro held up a silk dress to the light, her ocean-blue eyes sparkling with a rare glimmer of wonder.
Yuki had already vanished into the fitting rooms with a stack of five different outfits.
Kiyone inspected fabric qualities with clinical seriousness, while Tsubaki, despite trying to appear indifferent, kept lingering in front of a jacket she clearly fancied.
Kamiki, meanwhile, collapsed onto one of the leather sofas in the center of the store, crossing his arms over his chest.
He let out a long, heavy sigh.
A man’s worst nightmare was coming to fruition: the soul-crushing, never-ending ordeal of a shopping trip with four girls.
“Kamiki-kun!” Yuki called out from the fitting room.
“Do you think this color makes me look washed out?
Come here and tell me!” Kiyone called out right after.
“Kamiki, look, does this outfit brighten my skin tone?
Take a look.” Shiro stepped out of the cabin, wearing a pleated skirt.
“How is it?” she asked, her voice flat as usual, yet her eyes betraying a need for approval.
“Is it better than my old clothes?” From the farthest corner of the store, Tsubaki chimed in: “How is this combination I put together?
Come give me your opinion!” Kamiki sank deeper into the sofa, burying his face in his hands.
“Two hours,” Kamiki muttered to the ceiling.
“A two-hour torture session has begun.” “I heard that!” Shiro said, her voice cold.
“Get up and do your job.” “Just watch and comment, Kamiki-kun,” Yuki giggled.
“You don’t have anything better to do anyway.” Kamiki smiled, but it wasn’t a genuine one.
It was a smile of surrender.
“Fine,” he said.
“Try on whatever you want.
I’m right here.” The girls began to drag him around the store like a puppet.
The atmosphere in the shop grew heavy.
Kamiki could feel the gazes of the other men in the store.
Their stares were a complex mix of admiration and seething rage—*how could this handsome bastard pull four perfect girls at once?* But as they watched how the girls treated him, their expressions shifted from jealousy to profound pity.
Kamiki wasn’t a lucky man; he was a prisoner.
“That guy is basically a slave,” a young man whispered as he passed by.
“Four of them?
One was already more than enough.” Shiro approached him with a black dress.
“Kamiki-kun, look at this,” she said, her eyes daring him to give the wrong answer.
Kamiki studied the garment.
“Black complements your snow-white hair perfectly,” he said, his voice calm and sincere.
“It’s as if it were tailored just for you.” Shiro blushed faintly.
“Alright…
then I’ll take it,” she muttered.
Just then, Yuki walked out in a pink outfit.
“What about this?
Is it too childish?” Kamiki answered without hesitation: “It’s ideal for your bubbly energy.
But if you want a more serious vibe, try the other one.” Yuki nodded, satisfied.
“You’re right.
I’ll try the second one.” The men in the store watched in awe.
Kamiki was like a general fighting on four different fronts.
Kiyone arrived with a skirt.
“This fabric is too stiff,” she said, dropping it into Kamiki’s lap.
“Hold this.” Kamiki didn’t protest.
He held the garment.
Immediately after, Tsubaki returned with three different combinations.
“Carry these too,” she said.
“The cabins are full.” Kamiki was now buried under a mountain of clothes, only his head visible.
“Ladies,” he said with a muffled voice.
“Don’t forget about me here.” Tsubaki looked at him with mock pity.
“You’re still breathing,” she laughed.
“Get up, we haven’t even hit the shoe section yet.” A man walked by and gave him a nod of solidarity.
“Hang in there, brother,” he whispered.
Four hours later, the store doors finally swung open.
Kamiki emerged looking like a soldier who had just barely survived a war zone, buried under a dozen shopping bags like a pack mule.
The girls, however, walked out as if nothing had happened, looking triumphant in their new attire.
Shiro led the way, Kiyone and Yuki were busy showing off their new accessories, and Tsubaki was adjusting a hat she had bought.
Kamiki had met many fellow “warriors” during those four hours.
There was even one man who approached his level of suffering—a guy with three women in his troupe.
It was close, but Kamiki’s “army” was undeniably the superior force.
“Oh, look!” Kiyone exclaimed, pointing across the plaza.
“There’s a massive shoe store over there!” Kamiki froze in his tracks.
The bags nearly slipped from his grip.
His eyes stared into the void.
“No,” he whispered.
“Shoes?” “Pffft.” “Hahahaha!” Kiyone suddenly stopped laughing, blinking in surprise.
“I was kidding, Kamiki-kun,” she said.
“I just wanted to see your reaction.” Kamiki brushed past them, picking up his pace.
His annoyance hadn’t faded.
As he passed Kiyone, he slowed down, leaning toward her ear.
His whisper was cold, yet hypnotic.
“I’m going to punish you for that tonight,” he said.
Kiyone’s face ignited.
Her golden eyes widened in shock.
She stumbled, her steps losing their rhythm.
Yuki noticed immediately, rushing to catch up.
“What did he say to you, Kiyone-chan?” she asked, narrowing her eyes mischievously.
“Why are you blushing so much?” Kiyone hung her head.
“Nothing,” she said, her voice trembling.
“It was nothing.” Shiro watched them from behind, frowning.
“What did he whisper to you?” she demanded.
Kamiki didn’t even look back.
He kept walking forward.
“Come on,” he called out loudly.
“Let’s not waste any more time.” The girls scrambled to catch up.
Kiyone was still reeling; his whisper echoed in her mind.
Yuki nudged her.
“Come on, tell us.
What did he say?” “It’s really nothing important,” Kiyone murmured.
“Your face is bright red,” Yuki pressed.
“How can that not be important?” Kamiki heard their whispers and the strained, lively hum behind him.
He couldn’t make out the words, but the tone told him exactly what was going on.
“What are you all talking about back there?” Kamiki shouted without stopping.
“Hurry up.” Yuki jumped, rolling her eyes.
“Nothing, Kamiki-kun!” “Yeah,” Tsubaki added, raising her voice.
“Just girls’ talk.” Shiro tilted her head.
“Just girl things,” she added.
“You just keep walking ahead.” Kiyone remained silent, the flush on her cheeks fading to a light pink, but she still couldn’t bring herself to look up.
“Fine,” Kamiki shrugged.
“Keep moving then.” Kamiki reached the limousine, standing like a monument to his own endurance with the heavy load of bags.
Matsuo opened the door with great courtesy.
“You’ve worked hard, Shirogane-sama,” Matsuo said, his tone filled with genuine respect.
“Your service was impeccable.” As Kamiki piled the bags onto the seats, he took a deep breath.
“Working hard is the wrong word, Matsuo.
‘War’ would be more accurate,” he said with a mix of sarcasm and exhaustion.
The limousine drove through the dim streets of the city and stopped in front of the house where Yuki and Tsubaki stayed.
Matsuo opened the door.
Before getting out, Yuki turned to Kamiki.
She reached out and held his hand, her eyes sparkling.
“I’m definitely coming back tomorrow,” she said, her voice both serious and playful.
Tsubaki hesitated as she stepped out, glancing back at Kamiki.
“See you, pervert,” she said.
The sharpness was gone from her voice, replaced by an unexpected softness.
“Nice meeting you, by the way.” Kamiki raised an eyebrow.
“You too, Sakurako-chan.” Suddenly, Yuki leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Kamiki’s cheek before hopping out.
“See ya!” she chirped, sprinting toward the house without looking back.
The air inside the car turned icy.
Shiro’s ocean-blue eyes darkened with rage.
She gripped the edge of the seat until her knuckles turned white.
“Why?” she asked, her voice like a jagged blade.
“Why didn’t you stop her?” Kamiki watched Shiro’s jealous outburst, a reckless smirk tugging at his lips.
“Because there was no need,” he said calmly.
“No need?” Shiro yelled, her voice trembling.
“She kissed you!” Kamiki ignored her icy glare and leaned back, his signature dangerous, crooked smile appearing.
“Of course,” he replied smoothly.
“Why would I turn down a kiss from a pretty girl?” Shiro gasped, shaking with rage.
“But it was my turn today!” she shrieked, her voice echoing in the limousine.
“You were only supposed to pay attention to me!” “I forbid you from seeing Yuki!” Kamiki’s expression shifted instantly.
The playfulness vanished, replaced by a wall of cold steel.
He locked eyes with Shiro.
“Shiro,” he said, his voice freezing.
Kiyone went silent, paralyzed with fear.
The air in the car grew heavy.
“I didn’t mind you all trying to share me among yourselves,” Kamiki stated.
“But if you try to limit me…
if you don’t drop this jealousy, I won’t speak another word to you.” Shiro’s eyes widened.
She tried to protest, her voice cracking.
“But…
but I only did it because I love you…” “That isn’t love,” Kamiki interrupted.
“That’s a possessive urge.” “I just…” Shiro’s voice wavered.
“I just want you to be with me.” Kamiki laughed coldly.
“You knew what I was from the very beginning,” he said.
“Don’t try to force me into the little boxes in your head.” Shiro’s eyes welled up, a single tear trailing down her cheek.
“I’m afraid of losing you,” she whispered.
“Then learn to control that fear,” Kamiki said, turning away from her.
“Or lose me completely.” The limousine fell silent, save for the muffled city noise outside.
Shiro buried her face in her knees, sobbing quietly.
Kiyone looked at Kamiki in terror, but his face remained like stone.
“Matsuo,” Kamiki commanded.
“Drive to Shiro’s place.” “Yes, sir,” Matsuo replied, his own voice shaky.
“You said I was important to you,” Shiro whispered between sobs.
“So why are you being so cruel?” Kamiki rested his head against the window, staring out.
His voice was a cold blade slicing through the heavy air.
“You are still very important to me, Shiro,” he said, his expression blank.
“But you must know your boundaries.” Shiro lifted her head, her eyes tear-streaked and filled with a momentary confusion.
“Boundaries?” she whispered.
“Is loving you crossing a boundary?” Kamiki turned to look at her.
His gaze was sharp enough to pierce her soul.
“Being gentle with you doesn’t mean I’m weak,” he said.
“It means I love you.” “And you,” Kamiki continued, pointing a finger at her.
“Unlike Yuki and Kiyone, you are overstepping.” “You are forgetting who the King is, Shiro.” Shiro pressed her lips together.
“I…
I just lose myself when I’m with you.” Kamiki knew that Shiro’s jealousy had been both a passion and a shield ever since the White Room.
But this time was different.
The affection and kindness he had shown them had led Shiro into a dangerous delusion.
She had made the mistake of seeing his kindness as weakness.
The reality of who held the power—who had brought whom into existence—was slowly fading from Shiro’s clouded mind.
Kamiki sighed deeply.
He reached out and gently touched Shiro’s cheek, his thumb wiping away her tears.
His touch wasn’t harsh; it was surprisingly tender.
“Shiro,” Kamiki said, his voice a little warmer now.
Shiro looked up, meeting his gaze.
“Yes?” “We’ve known each other for fourteen years,” Kamiki said.
Shiro nodded, whispering, “I know.” “We grew up together,” Kamiki continued.
“Of course, I love you very much.
That will never change.” Shiro smiled faintly, her lips trembling.
“Really?” “Of course,” Kamiki replied.
“You are one of the three most important people in my life.
You don’t even need to question that.” Shiro took a deep breath, clutching Kamiki’s hand.
“Then why are you being so cruel?” “Because,” Kamiki said, locking eyes with her.
“Even if you are my closest companion, you have to learn where you shouldn’t cross the line.” Shiro pulled her hand away from his jacket.
“I won’t do it again.” Kamiki smiled, and this time, it reached his eyes.
“Good girl.” Shiro closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand on her cheek.
“I’m just so afraid of losing you.” “I know,” Kamiki said.
“But the only way to lose me is to try to imprison me.” Shiro let out a shaky breath.
“I understand.” “Alright,” Shiro whispered.
“I know my place.” Kamiki watched her bowed head, feeling the hard ice within him melt for a brief moment.
“Shiro,” he said, his voice softened.
Shiro looked up, startled.
“Yes?” “Tonight…” Kamiki said, his eyes scanning her sorrowful face.
“Do you want to stay at my place?” Shiro paused, thinking it over.
The offer caught her off guard.
“No,” she said, her voice resolute but trembling.
“I need to think about some things.” Kamiki nodded slightly, smiling with understanding.
He reached out and gently stroked her silky white hair.
“Fine,” he said.
“Your choice.” The limousine continued silently.
Shiro’s house came into view.
As the car stopped in front of the garden gate, Shiro reached for the door handle.
Just as she was about to get out, Kamiki moved—a quick, light, warm kiss on her cheek.
Shiro froze, her eyes wide.
Kamiki didn’t pull back immediately, staring straight into her eyes.
“Don’t mistake my anger for hatred,” Kamiki whispered.
Shiro held her breath.
“I know,” she whispered back.
“I still love you very much,” Kamiki said, the sincerity in his voice undeniable.
“Never forget that.” A wide, genuine smile broke out across Shiro’s face.
The dull sorrow in her eyes vanished.
“I know,” Shiro said.
“I’ve always known.” She scrambled out of the limousine and ran toward the house without looking back.
Kamiki watched her go, and Matsuo quietly started the engine.
“Sir?” Matsuo asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.
Kamiki leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Home, Matsuo,” he said.
“Just home.” Kiyone sat quietly beside him.
“Are you still angry at her?” she asked softly.
Kamiki sank further into the seat, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside.
“A little,” he replied.
His voice was calm, analytical.
Kiyone leaned in slightly.
“Shiro can be very uncontrolled sometimes.
But can’t you see how terrified she is of losing you?” Kamiki sighed faintly.
“I see it.
That’s the problem.
Her fear is killing her judgment.” He closed his eyes, resting his head against the headrest, replaying the moments in his mind.
“You and Yuki,” Kamiki said, turning his head slightly toward Kiyone.
“You know where you stand.
You understand where your boundaries begin and end.” Kamiki fell silent.
Shiro had gotten lost in that strange ‘partner’ feeling born from their years of history, forgetting the hierarchy between them.
“Shiro doesn’t know that yet,” Kamiki said, his voice echoing in the cabin like a verdict.
“She hasn’t learned where to stop, or what is hers to demand.” Kiyone looked away.
She knew Kamiki to his core.
To an outsider, he was the most compassionate man.
He protected them.
He fulfilled their wishes, even when he didn’t want to.
He was the best person in the world to them.
But that kindness had an invisible line.
For anyone who crossed it, Kamiki’s mercy turned to ice.
“Kiyone-chan,” Kamiki said, his voice turning velvety.
“Do you want some ice cream?” Kiyone was caught off guard.
“Sure, that would be nice,” she said.
Kamiki smiled faintly.
He reached toward the front compartment and cracked the sliding glass.
His command to the driver was crisp and authoritative.
“Matsuo,” Kamiki said.
“Take us to that dessert shop we went to yesterday.” “As you wish, Shirogane-sama,” Matsuo replied.
Kamiki closed the glass.
The divider shut silently.
The limousine swerved, changing its route.
Kamiki leaned back again, watching the confused expression on Kiyone’s face.
“Why are you surprised?” Kamiki asked.
“I don’t know,” Kiyone said.
“You were so tense.” “Does me being tense,” Kamiki replied, “prevent me from buying you ice cream?” Kiyone shook her head.
“No, it’s just…” “You’re just not used to it,” Kamiki said.
“Are you?” Kiyone confessed honestly, “Sometimes I can’t figure you out.” “Don’t try,” Kamiki said.
“Just enjoy it.” He reached out and gently stroked Kiyone’s hair.
The tenderness was in stark contrast to the threat of punishment from moments ago.
“Sweet things,” Kamiki said, “help you relax.” “Yes,” Kiyone replied.
“Good,” Kamiki said.
“Because I don’t want you to be tense while you wait for your punishment.” The faint smile on Kiyone’s face froze.
Kamiki had turned even a sweet moment into a tool of control.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to object.
“My punishment,” Kiyone said, swallowing hard.
“Exactly when?” “When you finish your ice cream,” Kamiki said, his eyes returning to the road.
“And when we get home.” Kiyone stared out the window.
The ice cream was no longer just a treat; it was the harbinger of the coming night.
Kamiki sat in the seat beside her, whistling softly, watching the road as if nothing had happened at all.
Author’s Note: There were a few people who said Yuki, Kiyone and Shiro were enough for the harem.
Please write your opinion in the comments.
Accordingly, I will increase the number of girls in the harem.