In the depths of the Chaos Arena, Oboro stood before a row of monitors, her arms crossed as she reviewed the progress reports on Kyousuke's monsterization. It was going at a snail's pace, and the delay only deepened her irritation. She wanted Asagi's face twisted in despair.
"Huh?" Oboro's gaze snapped toward the scientist, her voice dripping with impatience. "What do you mean his body is resisting change?"
The scientist representing the lab stammered nervously. "W-we don't know. We've tried everything—injections, genetic modification—and each time, his body reverts to normal. Most noticeably, it seems strongly resistant to anything demon‑related."
"So can you do it or not?" Oboro's eyes narrowed, her patience wearing thin.
"I think we can." The scientist swallowed hard. "This could possibly be linked to his mental state. His mind hasn't been broken yet. If we weaken that, we might stop his body from resisting the demonic corruption."
"Resisting, huh." Oboro's mind drifted back to when she had tricked Kyousuke into wearing the ring, placing him under her control. He had resisted her influence surprisingly well. But ultimately, it didn't matter. He was bait to lure Asagi into the Chaos Arena, and that was all that mattered.
She planned to further torture the Taimanin by turning Kyousuke into a mindless monster, but it was slower than she had anticipated. Still, she had continued to torture Asagi through other means. Less intensely, of course. She wanted to save the main course to make it more… delightful.
"Continue your work, and be quick about it." Oboro's voice was cold and final. "I've been waiting too long to snuff out the remaining hope in Asagi's heart." With those parting words, she turned and left, a cruel smile curling at her lips. She had a show to perform for an audience. A public beatdown of Asagi and Murasaki.
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Kyousuke was in a flesh room. The scientists had described it as an advanced chamber with tools capable of rewriting one's DNA, but to him, it felt like nothing more than a torture room. Needles kept puncturing his skin every hour. Electric shocks wracked his body. His mind felt invaded, smothered by fleshy things covering his head. His manhood was relentlessly stimulated. Stroked, suctioned, played with by pulsing fleshy tentacles. And his bottom was relentlessly penetrated and violated.
The torture grew more intense. His vision blurred. His thoughts scattered.
‘Pathetic.’ A voice from somewhere. Old and harsh, edged with suppressed rage. ‘Trained since childhood, yet you still have not awakened your true strength. As my reincarnation, you are a disappointment. ‘
Ah… he started hearing things. Disappointment. That word echoed in his skull. In a way, the voice in his head was right. He was pathetic. He had never been able to awaken his ninja art, and because of that, he had been a burden to Asagi in the past, and now. He was grateful for the love she had given him, but it would have been better if she had found someone else.
‘Hey! Don't talk shit about him. It's not his fault he has a gentle heart.’
Another voice. Different. More upbeat, almost teasing. Was this part of his mind trying to rationalize his pathetic state?
‘You do not have the right to speak to me. You died at a young age, Takeshi. A failure.’
‘Oh, shut up. As if you could do any better, old man! Probably would've been killed by a sniper if you were in my shoes.’
‘I would have made us live longer.’
‘As if! Your actions would have attracted the government. Which, I remind you, hates us!’
‘Then I would have simply killed them.’
‘You can't solve everything by killing!’
And they started fighting, bickering. Was he suffering from schizophrenia? Was this his mind's way of coping with the stress of torture?
‘Kyousuke-kun.’ The old voice spoke again, calmer now. ‘Give up your body to me.’
Give up his body? Never. He would keep fighting to his dying breath.
‘Kyousuke…’ This time it was the younger one's turn. ‘I'd agree with you any other time, but now is not the right time. Give up your body if you want to live, and save Asagi.’
N-no… this was a trick. A demon's deception.
‘Heh.’ The older voice chuckled. ‘I'd be happy to hear that if the situation weren't so dire.’
‘Don't encourage him!’ The younger voice snapped. ‘Listen, it's do or don't. Whether you give up or not doesn't matter, because you're going to die anyway. But at least take the chance to save Asagi.’
Asagi… If it was to save her, he would do anything.
Kyousuke's consciousness began to fade, sinking into deep darkness.
Then his eyes snapped open.
"Hm?" Golden irises slowly shifted left and right, scanning the fleshy chamber. Tentacles from his head quickly retreated as his hair bleached to white as snow. His nose scrunched up in disgust. "I smell the scent of demons. Infesting the entire building… no, the entire city."
Kyousuke was no more. The Sword Saint had taken control.
He unleashed his magical aura, burning away his restraints. The tentacles recoiled, retreating into the walls. He rose and began walking, searching for an exit. He sensed lifeforce, humans on the other side of the fleshy walls, panicking, confused.
The tentacles appeared again. From above, below, left, right. Everywhere. They slowly encroached on him.
The Sword Saint summoned his sword, a nodachi and drew it slowly from its sheath. The light of the blade blazed, burning the tentacles that dared approach. The room began to shake, and the tentacles thrashed wildly around him. Then abruptly stopped.
"I shall purge the evil from this world," he declared, his voice cold and absolute. "And I shall start with their tainted servants."
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The scientists in the room panicked as something unexpected happened. The monitors spiked—high energy readings—and the creature in the chamber was in visible distress. They quickly administered sedatives to calm it down, then commanded it to subdue the intruder.
But the moment the Sword Saint unsheathed his blade, the creature's heart rate skyrocketed. Its tentacles thrashed wildly in a frenzy. The scientists scrambled, injecting more drugs to calm it. Then it stopped.
The monitors flatlined. It was dead.
"H-how?" The lead scientist—the one who had spoken with Oboro—stared at the heartbeat monitor and other vitals. Blood flow, oxygen intake, neural activity. "How can this be? What caused this? How did he cause this?"
"D-did he scare it? Scare the flesh room?" another scientist ventured.
Scare it? It would make sense, given the rapid spike in heart rate. But the creature had no brain so it couldn't process fear. Yet it was the only possible explanation.
He looked at the camera to check on the man. The physical change was unmistakable. Golden eyes and white hair. And yet, a looming sense of death seemed to radiate from him. He didn't know why.
Once the sword was fully unsheathed, it flooded the room with white light. That feeling of dread had fully consumed him.
The man took a stance, raising his sword high.
Walls exploded. Debris flew. Dust clouded the view. Then came the screams, and the wet, tearing sound of flesh. The scientist couldn't move. Frozen in fear.
The noise stopped. The dust settled. A sword point hovered directly at his neck. Everyone in this room is dead except for him.
Was this Kyousuke? Had he snapped? Was this his true strength? Or was another personality taking over?
"Your clothes." Kyousuke's voice was flat, emotionless. "Take them off."
The scientist gulped. He stripped down to his underwear, desperate for a chance to survive. Then he held out his clothes. Kyousuke pointed at the table.
He turned his back and approached the table, placing the clothes down. Then he lost control of his body.
His vision dropped, now fixed on Kyousuke's feet.
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After beheading the last survivor in the room, the Sword Saint quickly dressed himself. Patience was wearing thin, he was eager to unleash slaughter upon the demons and their worshippers. As he stepped into the corridor, the sound of footsteps echoed off the stone walls. He caught their scent. Demons. Likely sent to subdue him.
He rushed forward, craving the massacre, eager to let his blade taste their sinful blood and cleanse it. He assumed an Iai stance, positioning his sword and sheath in front of him as he began to charge it. A technique learned in one of his past reincarnations.
As the demons rounded the corner, the Saint launched forward with tremendous speed, the floor beneath him cracked from the force. Heads and torsos were severed in a single blink of an eye. The security force didn't put up much of a fight.
"Hmm…" He sheathed his sword, glancing at the scattered bodies. "Perhaps I should have let one live to guide me through this labyrinth. Though… that hardly matters now." He expanded his senses, feeling a dense concentration of lifeforce deeper within the structure. "I shall go there."
As the Sword Saint walked through the labyrinthine corridors, a rare flicker of approval crossed his stoic features. "Despite having not awakened your true strength, your body is surprisingly strong and agile. Unlike many of the previous incarnations. For that, you have my respect.”
He drew closer to the source of the concentrated life force. Then he spotted a familiar face, standing in the dim light ahead.
"Zhiyong. The failed teacher of Takeshi. Are you here to seek forgiveness for the sin of failing the previous reincarnation of the Sword Saint?"
‘Oi!’ Takeshi's voice cut through his mind. ‘Don't insult my master like that!’ Which is ineffective as the Saint simply ignores him.
The insult didn't faze Zhiyong. His expression remained calm, unreadable. "I simply came to see the current Sword Saint when I sensed a strong, familiar divine energy emanating from here." He studied the Saint from head to toe, his gaze lingering for a moment. "Hmm… Kyousuke is his name, right? Surprisingly, he looks familiar to Takeshi. If he tied up his hair to a ponytailed." And in that flicker of a moment, a trace of sadness crossed his eyes.
‘Master…’ Takeshi noticed it.
"Good. Take that guilt deep into your heart, abomination." The Sword Saint's voice was cold. "Once you learn of your wrongdoing, commit seppuku to finally cleanse yourself."
‘You know this is why you don't have friends,’ Takeshi shot back. ‘And the only one is your brother, and that guy has a screw loose.’
Zhiyong's tone remained even. "I'm beginning to understand why you don't have any allies, and why there are so many who hate you despite being on your side. Your brother must be a zealot."
Finally, a crack appeared in the Sword Saint's stone-faced composure. He could ignore Takeshi's comment, but hearing it from another—from Zhiyong—finally broke through. Without a word, he walked past him.
"Do not stop me from what I am about to do, Zhiyong."
"I won't." Zhiyong's voice hardened. "But those two Taimanin… don't touch them. If you do, I will stop you."
"Hmph." The Sword Saint scoffed, his hand resting on his blade. "Then stop me, then. I will kill everyone, including those two mongrels."
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Asagi and Murasaki fought for their lives, unarmed and outnumbered, against Power Lady, Oboro, and Kaliya. The Chaos Arena echoed with the clash of bodies, the taunts of their enemies and spectators cheering.
Murasaki was entirely focused on Power Lady. Despite wanting to assist Asagi, she had been ordered to hold the line against the brute. Her physical prowess and healing ability made her the only one capable of weathering Power Lady's onslaught.
Asagi, meanwhile, faced both Kaliya and Oboro. Her Ninja Art allowed her to keep pace with the two of them, but retirement had dulled her edge. Each use drained her further, and exhaustion crept closer with every passing moment.
"Oh, Asagi, don't push yourself too hard." Oboro's voice dripped with mockery.
"Yeah, we're just having fun." Kaliya grinned, circling like a predator. "Don't pass out too soon, or it'll get boring."
Murasaki grimaced. She needed to end this quickly. Power Lady lunged with a wild tackle, but Murasaki sidestepped, pivoted, and vaulted onto her back. In one fluid motion, she locked her arms around Power Lady's neck and squeezed.
Power Lady thrashed wildly, clawing at Murasaki's arms, trying to break free with brute force alone. Despite her scrawny frame, Murasaki was deceptively strong, her grip held firm. In a desperate move, Power Lady leaped as high as she could and dropped backward, slamming Murasaki into the ground.
The crowd roared, their cheers and praise surging through the arena like a wave.
"Guh!" The impact rattled Murasaki's bones, but she held on.
Power Lady dropped to all fours, gasping, her movements growing sluggish. She was reaching her limit.
So close, Murasaki thought, her arms tightening.
Then a blade thrust through her back, straight into her heart. Murasaki's grip went slack. She let go.
"Huh." Oboro's voice dripped with disappointment. "You couldn't handle her, Power Lady?"
"Forgive me, Oboro-sama." Power Lady's voice was strained, still catching her breath. "She's surprisingly strong."
"Then pummel her for me, Power Lady." Oboro's smile curled, cold and cruel. "Break her."
"Pummel her, but—"
"She is Murasaki the Undying Taimanin." Oboro cut her off, her tone cold and clinical. "Ninja Art: Immortal. All I did was pierce her heart. It will regenerate within seconds. So I suggest you act quickly." A cruel smile crept across her lips. "And you can keep killing her, again and again. She'll just keep coming back. So go all out."
Power Lady's lips curled into a smirk at the revelation. She grabbed Murasaki's head, hauled her up, and drove her fist into Murasaki's gut, again and again. Then she slammed her down onto the concrete floor and locked her arms around Murasaki's neck. The same headlock Murasaki had used on her.
Kaliya kicked Asagi in the face, then drove her heel into Asagi's abdomen, grinding deep into her flesh. "Ah, you've already reached your limit." Her voice dripped with mockery. "I expected more, especially from the one who holds the title of the Almighty Taimanin."
"Kaliya." Oboro's voice halted Kaliya from furthering the beating. "Please don't end this so soon. I want Asagi to watch her friend suffer and die."
Kaliya smirked, then grabbed Asagi by the hair and forced her gaze toward Murasaki, still trapped in Power Lady's chokehold.
"Now, Power Lady." Oboro's tone was filled with anticipation. "Snap her neck. Show her the taste of the torture soon to come."
Power Lady's muscles tensed, squeezing tighter. Murasaki's breath hitched—
"Oboro-sama!" A masked figure burst into the arena, her voice frantic. "There is an intruder, he's coming to the arena now!"
"Tch." Oboro clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Why are you telling me this?! You're ruining the mood with this pointless news?"
The masked lady didn't answer. She stood perfectly still.
"Why aren't you—"
The masked lady split in half, guts and gore spilling onto the arena floor before the fighters and the stunned audience. Behind the falling corpse stood white-haired man.
"Disgusting." His voice was cold, devoid of emotion, as he slowly approached the ring. "All of you, spectators and fighters alike. Disgusting, worthless wastes of life. Why do you exist? Why not end your pointless existence?"
"Who are you?" Oboro's voice dripped with rage. Someone dared to disrupt her moment, but when she looked closer, her eyes widened in recognition. "You're Kyousuke… but your hair…"
"K-Kyousuke…" Asagi desperately tried to lift her head, her voice barely a whisper. She was stunned by the change in him. What had happened? What had Oboro done?
"Kyousuke?" The Sword Saint's said. "Ah, yes, the name of the vessel." He assumed an Iai stance, his hand resting on the hilt. "He is no more. Only the Sword Saint remains."
In the blink of an eye, he vanished and reappeared before Oboro, blade already swinging. She barely managed to block with her two claw blades, the impact forcing her back several feet.
"Hm?" The Sword Saint tilted his head, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. "You managed to block. Impressive." He studied his own hands briefly. "Though this body is perfect, it still lacks the experience of battle."
He pulled back his sword and followed with a quick upward slash that shattered Oboro's guard. Then he drove a kick into her ribs, the crack of bone echoing through the arena and sent her flying from the ring into the far wall cracking it.
"Then I shall refine this body in this battle." The Sword Saint pointed his blade at Kaliya. "So do one good thing in your pointless life, demon and make me stronger."
In a single motion, he was already in front of Kaliya, who was still holding Asagi. She reacted quickly, but one of her arms was caught. Not severed, but enough to dangle uselessly.
"Hm?" He studied the wound. "Hard skin. Good, I haven't had a real challenge. All soft flesh here, finally something worth cutting."
Kaliya gritted her teeth in rage. "Don't get cocky!" She closed the distance with blinding speed, her claws sharpening as she struck.
The Sword Saint kept his distance, dodging her claws and blocking a kick with his forearm. Then she surprised him, she closed in and exhaled. A cloud of smoke, tinted with colour and reeking of poison, enveloped him.
Guh!" He dropped to one knee. Then his lips curled into a grin. "Ah. I suspected as much. I'm fighting a Naga, descended from the Snake God." He rose to his feet despite the poison wreaking havoc on his body. "Oh, what joy. I can relive my first life. Hunting your kind to extinction." He leveled his blade at her, his eyes burning with excitement. "Oh, serpent. Enough playing around. Show me your true form."
Kaliya's rage boiled over. "You arrogant bastard! A human dares to think he can win against my true form?" Her wrestling costume ripped to shreds, her lower half dissolving into a massive serpentine tail as scales erupted across her body.
"Good, good!" In the blink of an eye, he was already before her, mid-transformation. "But I'm not that kind." He thrust his sword at her chest, but instead of piercing, it clashed against her hardened scales.
Kaliya smirked and whipped her tail, the impact cracking his left arm and sending him hurtling across the arena. "Oh, where's your cocky attitude now?"
The Sword Saint drove his blade into the ground to stop his momentum. His breathing was sharp, controlled. "This is unexpected." He released his sword and gripped his broken arm, focusing his magic to mend the fracture. A faint glow surrounded his hand. He tested it with a careful flex. "Not fully healed… but enough to beat you."
"I'm going to break you once this is over." Kaliya approached slowly, her confidence swelling.
The Sword Saint's eyes narrowed. A tremendous surge of magic erupted from his body, the air growing heavy with its weight. A sigil materialized before him, and he shifted into a ko gasumi stance. "Kishin." His voice was cold, absolute. "Suffer a thousand cuts, serpent."
Kaliya braced herself, sensing the impending attack. Then he vanished.
A cut appeared on her left cheek, blood welling from the wound. Another on her uninjured arm. Then her right cheek. Then her tail. She realized what he meant by a thousand cuts, but her injuries were minor. Was he planning to— Then her eyes were slashed, plunging her into darkness. She thrashed wildly, but the cuts kept coming. Ten cuts became a hundred in ten seconds. At a thousand cuts, he stopped.
Kaliya collapsed, her body covered in countless wounds. She lay on the ground, bleeding out, her strength all but gone.
The Sword Saint, however, was barely standing. His breathing was ragged, and his heart was hammering irregularly. "I overestimated this body," he muttered.
In his vulnerable state, Power Lady saw her chance. She lunged and drove a heavy punch into his right side, sending him flying across the arena. His sword slipped from his grasp as he crashed against the edge. Then she kicked the blade far beyond his reach.
He stood up despite the pain. The overuse of magic had rendered him unable to cast spells or use strength enhancement for a long time. So he took an Aikido stance, hanmi. A technique learned in one of his past reincarnations.
Power Lady hesitated for a moment. She had fought someone using Aikido before, and it had been annoying. But she doubted this man could execute it properly. He was a swordsman, not a grappler. So she charged.
Despite her speed, the Sword Saint was faster. He caught her arm and neck, using her own momentum to slam her into the ground. She gasped. Then, seizing the opening, he drove his fingers toward her eyes.
She screamed, hands flying to her face. He followed with a barrage of precise strikes to her solar plexus, her ribs, her heart, her throat. Each blow landed with precision.
Then he raised his arm, channeling energy into his hand, and delivered a devastating blow. The impact created a small crater beneath her, cracks across the floor. She lay still, writhing in pain, unable to move.
"I won't kill you yet." His voice was cold, detached. "My blade desires your blood."
He walked toward his sword, the arena falling into a heavy silence. Oboro, Kaliya, and Power Lady. All defeated by one man. He reached his blade and grasped the hilt. Then he turned toward the Taimanin. The reason was simple. They were close, and he desired blood.
"Kyousuke-kun?" Asagi's voice trembled with fragile hope. She tried to stand, but the poison made every movement agonizing. Murasaki steadied her. "You're okay… I was so worried. What happened to you?"
The Sword Saint raised his blade toward them. "Do not speak to me, mongrel. This Kyousuke is no more. Only the Sword Saint remains." He shifted into a ko gasumi stance.
"K-Kyousuke?"
"Hey!" Murasaki stepped forward. "Don't point your blade at Lady Asagi!"
"Then I shall point it at you. Rejoice, for I shall purify you first." He dashed forward with blinding speed.
Murasaki couldn't escape in time. She braced herself for the inevitable pain, watching the blade slice through the air toward her face. It came closer then stopped. Why did he stop? She glanced around him and noticed a man gripping his arm.
"Zhiyong…" The Sword Saint's voice dropped to a low, frustrated growl. He glared at the man who had dared to interfere.
"As I said." Zhiyong's tone was calm, and fill with unwavering resolved. "Touch them, and I will stop you."
The Sword Saint pulled his blade back and shoved Zhiyong away. "Do you wish to fight me?" He began charging his sword, hidden from Zhiyong's view.
"No. It won't be necessary, you won't be able to touch me." Zhiyong then gestured to his left arm, revealing his hand wrapped firmly around Asagi's throat. "It surprises me that, even without your full power, you could still compete with three powerful opponents. Though, maybe if they hadn't underestimated you and worked together, you very well could have died. You're lucky."
"Lady Asagi!" Murasaki moved to lunge.
"Don't move, girl." Zhiyong's glare was cold, unyielding. Asagi gasped as his grip tightened, just enough to make the threat real. It was enough to freeze Murasaki in place.
The Sword Saint tilted his head, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. "Oh? Are you planning to try calling Kyousuke to stop me?"
"Well, yeah." Zhiyong's tone was almost casual. "I'm not hiding it."
"Oh." The Sword Saint's expression flattened. "Okay, then."
The intense atmosphere that had gripped the arena evaporated in an instant.
"Then let us put this to the test." The Sword Saint quickly took a stance and, with one swift motion, launched a quick strike.
Zhiyong raised Asagi in front of him, using her as a human shield.
Murasaki stood there, helpless. She knew she couldn't do anything, she could only watch.
As the blade was about to slash through Asagi and into Zhiyong, it changed direction. His body twisted to the left, and an energy slash erupted from the blade, launching toward the audience. The moment it landed, some audience members were torn apart, others caught in the explosion. A wide section of the stand collapsed in a shower of debris and blood. Many died from the cuts, others from the shrapnel. Panic erupted as the survivors scrambled for the exits.
His body was frozen. Despite using every ounce of his willpower, it wouldn't listen. His vision blurred, tears streaming down his face. The Sword Saint, confused, pulled back his blade and touched his cheek. They were tears.
"You win, Zhiyong." The Sword Saint's stare burned with rage. "I'll give up this body and return Kyousuke. But before I do that…"
He turned around, revealing an enraged Oboro.
"Um, Oboro." Zhiyong's voice was worried. He had let go of Asagi and tried to talk Oboro out of it, even if it was a futile effort. "The fight's over. Let's get Kaliya and Power Lady patched up."
"I'm going to kill you, Kyousuke." Ten copies of Oboro materialized around her.
"Hm. Clones?" The Sword Saint sniffed the air and muttered, barely loud enough for Oboro to hear, "Just illusions."
He took a stance, channeling the power he had built up. He would unleash it all on her.
"Oboro, stop!" Zhiyong's voice cut through. "You will die instantly. I'm not kidding."
The Oboros launched their attack.
The Sword Saint vanished, and in an instant, every Oboro was cut to pieces. Her head rolled across the arena floor.
Then he collapsed. His hair faded to brown, and the sword vanished from his hand.
"I warned her." Zhiyong let out a tired sigh. "All because I'm a nerd, she just wouldn't listen." He approached Power Lady. "Hey. Go collect her body parts and put them in these." He pulled out two garbage bags from his pocket, already expecting this outcome. "Edward told me that if she dies, instead of disposing of the body, I should bring it to him."
Power Lady reluctantly agreed, forcing herself to stand despite the pain. Her expression was sad, fearful. "Am I going to be punished for this failure?"
"Don't worry." Zhiyong's voice was firm but gentle. "You won't be punished. This was an unexpected situation. If anything happens, call me and I'll shield you. Sometimes these executives are unreasonable."
Power Lady sighed in relief and quickly began collecting the scattered pieces.
Zhiyong turned to Asagi. "Sorry for using you as a human shield. Since this is all over, you can leave with Sawaki. Most of the top fighters are dead, and most of the security has been slaughtered. There is no one left to stop you."
Asagi glared at him, her rage barely contained. But she pushed it aside and rushed to Kyousuke's side, checking his condition.
With all that done, Zhiyong approached Kaliya. "It's over, Kaliya. The guy collapsed. He poses no threat."
Kaliya slowly stood up despite the injuries covering her body. "Where is he? I'm going to kill him."
"No, we're not doing this. Oboro is dead, and you're in critical condition. Let's stop the bleeding and get you to a hospital. Can you move?"
"Ugh, no." Kaliya spat out, frustration bleeding through her voice.
"Then I'll carry you."
"Oh, such a gentleman." A weak smirk crossed her face. "But can you actually carry me?"
"Don't worry. I can handle it."
Just as he said, Zhiyong effortlessly lifted her in a bridal carry.
Kaliya coiled her tail around his midsection.
"Can't you just turn your tail back to legs?" he asked, as he felt her tail deliberately rubbing against him.
"No." Her tail tightened in response. "Has anyone ever told you, you have a delectable ass?"
"Okay, you're doing this on purpose." Zhiyong slowly walked away, Power Lady limping at his side as she struggled to move.
Asagi watched Zhiyong go. Despite the anger still burning in her chest, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of gratitude for what he had done. Murasaki carried Kyousuke, and together, they left the Chaos Arena behind.
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"We make a stop at a motel to rest for the night and call for an evac by tomorrow morning." Asagi ended the story, sitting at the front of the dinner table with her family, Kyousuke beside her.
"Wow." Sakura's eyes sparkled. "Kyousuke-nii redirected the sword with the power of love!" She giggled.
"Come on. It's not that impressive." Kyousuke rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.
"So, Dad," Asuka leaned forward, "is that guy still in your head?"
"Yes. Very much so. He kept saying 'kill, kill' when I arrived at the village."
"Oh…" Asuka's voice softened. "You're fine right now, right?"
Kyousuke glanced at Kosuke, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. "As long as I'm close to Kosuke, his voice quiets down."
"Well, brothers help each other," Kosuke said with a warm smile. “I wouldn’t leave you alone, especially in your lowest moment in your life, big brother.”
"Big sis." Sakura leaned forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Is there a technique when it comes to seducing guys?"
Asagi choked on her food. "Gh, ahem!" She coughed, patting her chest. "I-I don't think we have one. Why do you wish to learn?"
"Of course you do.” Kyousuke said innocently. “You used it on me all the time back in the academy."
"Kyousuke!" Asagi quickly clamped her hand over his mouth, her face burning red.
"Eh…" Asuka's smirk was practically audible. "Even the perfect Asagi has her perverted side."
Sakura's eyes lit up. "Can you teach me?!"
"N-No, not until you're older." Asagi shook her head firmly. "Also, who are you planning to seduce?"
"Ryuji."
Asagi blinked. "Ryuji?" She let out a tired sigh. "Why don't you just confess to him? I'm sure he'd accept." After all, Sakura was a beautiful girl—many students had already fallen for her cute personality.
"She already did." Asuka leaned back with a shrug. "They both even had sex, and he still rejected her."
"What?!" Asagi's eyes went wide with surprise.
"Calm down, Asagi." Kyousuke placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Ryuji was suffering from aphrodisiac poisoning. He even went as far as isolating himself in his room."
"He actually got poisoned twice." Kosuke chimed in. "It's in his report, actually. I figured you would've known already."
"In his report?" Asagi blinked. "Ryuji has already given me the report. I just haven't reviewed them yet."
"So can you teach me?" Sakura pressed her hands together, giving her best pleading eyes. "I need to make Ryuji fall for me before Kirara does."
"Kirara doesn't love him!" Asuka threw her hands up. "How many times do I have to explain?!"
"Of course she does."
"Well, there is a possibility she might," Kosuke added, shrugging.
"Kosuke!" Asuka whirled on him. "You're supposed to be on my side. Aren't I your favourite sister?!"
"I don't actually have favourites…" Kosuke muttered.
Asagi looked perplexed, a small crease forming between her brows. She didn't know what to think of Ryuji anymore. She needed to read that report.
"Let's end the dinner here," Kyousuke said, raising a hand to quiet the table. "You can settle your argument by asking Kirara directly."
With that, the three fell silent, agreeing with Kyousuke's words.
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Asagi sat alone in the living room, a glass of wine in her hand, her gaze distant and unfocused.
"Asagi, you're drinking?" Kyousuke sat beside her, his voice soft with concern. "Are you alright? You seem melancholic."
"O-oh…" Asagi's face reddened. "Sorry, it's just a habit."
"A habit?" Kyousuke shifted closer, gently taking her left hand in his, trying to console her.
She blushed harder, her eyes softening as she looked into his warm, loving gaze. "The day you left… I-I didn't take it well." Her voice trembled. "I missed you so much." She set the glass down and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"A-Asagi?" Kyousuke was surprised by the sudden hug. But he accepted her embrace, wrapping his arms around her. "I-I'm sorry. I should've just told you earlier. You suffered this pain all these years, it's my—"
Then Asagi gave him a deep kiss, her tongue pressing against his. Kyousuke was surprised but quickly accepted, closing his eyes and focusing on the warmth of the moment. During the kiss, Asagi's hand slowly drifted downward, giving his crotch a gentle rub.
“A-Asagi! We shouldn’t do it here. Let’s go to your room.”
Asagi agreed and led him upstairs, her hand warm in his. They entered her room, and as soon as the door clicked shut, she gently pushed him onto the bed, resuming their loving embrace. After a few minutes, she released him from the kiss and began undressing his pants.
She slid down his body and began unfastening his pants. She tugged them down along with his underwear, freeing his hard, throbbing cock.
Asagi leaned in, pressing soft, teasing kisses along his shaft before giving the underside a slow, sensual lick. Then, with a hungry look, she parted her lips and took his entire length into her warm, wet mouth.
Kyousuke let out a deep, guttural moan, his hand gently resting on the back of her head as she began giving him an intense, skillful blowjob.
He quickly felt himself approaching the edge. His breathing grew ragged, hips twitching as pleasure built to its peak.
Just as he was about to cum, Asagi suddenly stopped, pulling her mouth off his glistening cock with a soft pop.
“Sorry, Kyousuke…” she whispered, her voice husky with lust. She climbed back on top of him, straddling his waist. The heat of her soaked pussy hovered just above his throbbing erection. “I want your cum inside my womb.”
Kyousuke’s eyes widened. “W-We should use a condom… We don’t want any accidents—”
But Asagi didn’t listen. “Didn’t you hear what I said?” she breathed, reaching down to grab his hard cock. She rubbed the penis against her slick folds for a moment, then slowly sank down onto him.
A deep, throaty moan escaped her lips as she took him all the way inside her tight, velvety heat in one smooth motion. Her walls clenched around him greedily.
She moved with increasing urgency, sliding up and down his thick cock in a rhythm. Her slick walls squeezed him tightly with every bounce, wet sounds filling the room. Kyousuke couldn’t help but think this was more than just lust . It was her desire for children. They had been supposed to marry over a decade ago, after all.
The fear in his chest slowly melted away, replaced by overwhelming pleasure. With a low groan, Kyousuke sat up abruptly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. Now face to face, he buried his face between her soft, bouncing breasts. He groped them greedily, pinching and rolling her stiff nipples between his fingers before capturing one in his mouth, sucking and licking hungrily.
Asagi moaned louder, arching her back and pressing her soft breasts harder against Kyousuke’s face as she rode him with frantic, desperate movements.
They were both rapidly approaching their peak. Kyousuke suddenly grabbed her waist, flipped her onto her back, and moved on top of her in one smooth motion, settling into the missionary position.
“Kyousuke… Kyousuke!” Asagi cried out, her voice trembling with pleasure. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper.
“Asagi…!” he groaned in response.
With a final, powerful thrust, Kyousuke buried himself as deep as possible inside her. His cock pulsed hard as he came, flooding her womb with thick, hot cum. At the same moment, Asagi’s body tensed violently beneath him. Her pussy clenched around his shaft as she reached her own orgasm.
They stayed locked together, riding out their climaxes for what felt like an eternity, their bodies intertwined in the quiet intimacy of the room.
Kyousuke then asked, his voice low and warm. "Ready for another round?" He knew Asagi wouldn't be satisfied with just one. After all they had done this plenty of times during their academy years.
"Kyousuke…" Asagi answered with a loving kiss, her lips soft against his. A silent signaling her desire for more.