???
What the hell was that? What kind of message was this?
The phrasing sounded bizarre, but that "Oreki-kun"... it rang a bell. It immediately brought to mind the woman who'd just left — Kikyou Satomi. Don't tell him...
On the walk home, Oreki Gen was extra cautious, terrified of running into Kikyou Satomi.
Fortunately, he made it back safely.
No sign of Kikyou Satomi lying in wait outside his door at his usual off-duty hour. No doorbell ringing. Everything seemed to be within controllable parameters — perfectly normal. Oreki Gen even did a sweep of his room for good measure.
Relieved, he took a shower, shed the day's exhaustion, and collapsed onto his bed.
After studying his phone for a while, he confirmed that once he'd read a message, it vanished from his phone without a trace.
Identifying the sender was out of the question.
These texts were like prophecies — or like a scriptwriter arranging scenes. Completely baffling.
What made it worse was that when he tried probing the system in his mind for answers, there was no response, no clue whatsoever.
Could these messages not be part of the system at all? Something external to it?
He couldn't figure it out. Time to sleep.
The instant he closed his eyes, he caught what sounded like strange noises.
"Mmm..."
"Hah..."
"Nnh..."
The sounds resembled human breathing — soft, vocal. Oreki Gen instinctively tried to locate the source and realized it was coming from behind his bedroom wall. The other side.
And the other side was Kikyou Satomi's apartment... The sounds were intermittent, not entirely clear. The walls offered some soundproofing, but apparently not enough.
What was she doing? The noises were strange — definitely not the sounds of any normal activity.
That was when Oreki Gen remembered the ability he'd acquired: X-Ray Vision.
But the damnable thing was, he'd already used it today. He obviously couldn't activate it again...
What was he supposed to do? Right then, pressed almost against the wall, he heard —
"Mmm~~~~"
"Hah... hah... ahhh~~~"
The sounds grew unmistakably clearer, as if the person next door had moved right up against the wall!
She seemed to be drawing closer and closer to his side, until he could hear the words with crystal clarity...
"Oreki-kun~ Look at me... look at me. I'm trembling because of you right now. Look — look~~~!"
What was she doing? Don't tell him she was...
"Ahh..."
Oreki Gen dragged himself out of bed the next morning, squinting at the sunlight pouring through the window. His face was the picture of exhaustion, hair a mess.
No surprise there. Who could get a good night's sleep after hearing those sounds through the wall? The fact that he hadn't been standing at attention all night was a blessing in itself.
Clearly, he couldn't waste his X-Ray Vision on trivial things. At the very least, it could have told him exactly what she'd been doing.
Oreki Gen had a hunch, but he wasn't certain. He'd have to wait for the next appropriate moment to use it... Ahem. Not because of any indecent thoughts.
Purely to assess the environment around him and understand his true situation!
Know yourself, know your enemy — a hundred battles, a hundred victories.
Yes. Exactly that.
***
The weekend.
Speeding wheels kicked up sprays of water from the roadside. Somewhere, wind chimes tinkled softly.
In the window of a coffee shop, a white cat basking in the sun gazed outward with jewel-bright eyes set in a round, pudgy face.
Oreki Gen always stole a glance whenever he passed this shop. The cat was something of a local celebrity near the school — more popular online than most pretty girls.
Oreki Gen smiled, and the cat seemed to notice him. It gave a lazy yawn and flopped back down. Its roly-poly body showed zero inclination to roll over.
"Club activities, thanks."
Oreki Gen slipped onto campus with ease. He'd never seen the school this quiet before — so still that the only sound was falling leaves.
The building wasn't one he was familiar with, either. Having never joined a club, he'd naturally never set foot in this block, which housed nothing but club rooms.
Room 402...
CREAK —
He pushed open the light door.
Sunlight flooded the classroom, and what struck his eyes first was the golden glow splashed across the floor.
Then — that extraordinary figure.
Near the blackboard stood an easel, and beside it, palette in hand, was her.
"You came? Right on time."
Sakuraba Mitsuki was there, wearing the familiar school uniform. Black calf socks that did not reach the knee might have looked odd on other girls, but she was one in a million — the perfect fit.
Beneath the pleated skirt, her long, smooth legs gleamed with a subtle luster.
The girl who'd spoken those words was studying her own canvas. Even without getting close, Oreki Gen recognized it immediately — the painting was a hazy version of him.
The features hadn't been defined yet. Only vague outlines.
"Mm. Handsome men of Sakurato are always punctual."
Sakuraba Mitsuki pressed her lips together. She evidently didn't care for the self-absorbed remark. Which, of course, was exactly what Oreki Gen had intended.
If he could make her find him off-putting, that might be a viable strategy in itself.
Sakuraba Mitsuki said nothing. Oreki Gen stood not far behind her, watching her silky hair cascade from the back of her head down to her waist — long, dense, probably not easy to maintain.
"Is that me?"
He asked softly.
Sakuraba Mitsuki frowned slightly. "Mm... But something's off. I can't fully capture it."
"Feeling" was the kind of thing people like her always insisted on. They could talk a big game about it, but usually had nothing to prove it.
Still, Oreki Gen understood what she meant. "So that's why you asked me to come, Sakuraba-san?"
Beside the easel sat a pretty, expensive-looking bag. He had no idea what was inside, but on a weekend, it certainly wasn't textbooks.
Sakuraba Mitsuki slowly set down her brush. From behind her, Oreki Gen could clearly see the beads of fine sweat dotting the exposed nape of her neck where her long hair didn't quite cover the pale skin.
The weather really was getting hotter by the day.
She turned to face him directly. Even having seen her before, Oreki Gen was still struck by this girl and her extraordinary background.
A beauty that seized you by the heart — the first glance planted itself in your mind like a seed that would grow into something formidable.
She sat down before Oreki Gen, hands resting together atop her pleated skirt.
"That's right. Sometimes inspiration requires a face-to-face encounter. Imagination alone can't solve everything."
She seemed to have her own unique philosophy about her craft.
"So what does Sakuraba-san plan to do?"
Oreki Gen didn't waste time on wishful thinking or meaningless deflection.
Having assessed the situation, he already knew his approach. Every move he made would determine how things ended, so caution was a given.
But second-guessing every step was just another name for indecisiveness.
So the answer was simple.
Make choices with caution. Execute them with conviction. That was the creed of a handsome man of Sakurato.
Sakuraba Mitsuki's gaze held no softness — only the same cold resolve it always carried.
She pointed to the chair across from her.
"Sit there. Until I finish my painting, you're at my disposal."
Oreki Gen didn't agree immediately. Instead, he asked with practiced calm.
"I can sit there and wait for you to finish. I can even cooperate to a reasonable degree. But you can't touch my body."
The words sounded like a maiden guarding her virtue, but Oreki Gen had every reason for the demand.
He'd anticipated that Sakuraba Mitsuki might refuse. What he hadn't expected was that she wouldn't even think about it.
"No."
Oreki Gen frowned. "You're saying you will touch me? But I'm just your model. Why would you need to?"
Her motives couldn't be more transparent.
Sakuraba Mitsuki tilted her chin up slightly, looking as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Supremely confident.
"For art."
For art, my ass! You're just a perv!