[Hirose Residence – Yoru's Bedroom ]
Hirose Yoru's defiance had ignited something dangerous in Riku.
He pulled out his phone, the screen still dark, and held it between them like a weapon.
"If you don't want everything about your mother exposed to the world... you'll do exactly as I say."
He didn't unlock it. Didn't need to.
Threats worked best when the victim's imagination did the heavy lifting.
"You—!!"
Yoru's expression twisted, cycling through shock, disgust, and raw hatred. Her jade-green eyes burned holes through him, yet nothing but that single syllable escaped her lips.
This garbage... he'd actually do it, wouldn't he?
Her throat tightened.
"What... what do you want me to do?"
Riku released her wrist, letting it fall limply to her side.
"What do I want?" His voice dropped, smooth as silk sliding over broken glass. "If you don't want anyone else finding out about this little secret... you already know what you need to do. I want you to take the initiative."
This was his first time doing something like this.
Beneath his calm exterior, his heart hammered against his ribs like a caged animal.
A private room.
A devastating secret.
The title 「Shameless Thief」 activated.
In that instant, Yoru's mental defenses crumbled. The skill's influence seeped through her resistance like water through cracked stone, amplifying every fear, every desperate need to protect her mother.
Her pearly teeth sank into her bottom lip—soft pink flesh turning white under the pressure.
The struggle played across her features like a silent film. Brows furrowed. Eyes glistening. Jaw tight.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of internal warfare, she spoke.
"If I do this... you'll leave my mother alone?"
Familiar dialogue. Riku's expression remained unreadable as he nodded.
"As long as I'm satisfied... yes."
Yoru bit down harder on her lip. Then, with movements slower than a dying heartbeat, she began to shrug off her blazer.
Each motion was deliberate. Reluctant. But it gave Riku a view he wouldn't soon forget.
The blazer pooled at her feet.
Beneath it, her white button-up shirt clung to her frame—neither too tight nor too loose—sculpting the outline of a figure that could've graced any magazine cover. Slender shoulders. A narrow waist that flared into modest hips. The fabric pulled slightly across her chest, hinting at the soft swells beneath.
She's... really doing this.
Yoru's emerald gaze met his, challenging even in submission.
"Only once." Her voice trembled with barely contained fury. "You swear you won't bother us again."
"I promise."
What I'm not saying, Riku thought, is that if your mother comes to me... that doesn't count.
The Narrator's voice echoed through his mind:
「You've truly embraced the essence of the Antagonist archetype. With impressive skill, you've deceived an innocent girl—and she hasn't even questioned whether you have any evidence at all. Now, as long as you finish before Hirose Kaguya completes dinner preparations outside...」
Yoru's fingers found the first button of her shirt.
Pop.
Then the second.
Pop.
At the third, the fabric parted enough for her breasts to strain forward—twin mounds of pale flesh barely contained by a simple white bra. The cups pressed tight against her, creating a soft valley of cleavage that rose and fell with each anxious breath.
She caught his stare. The way his eyes devoured her.
Disgusting... looking at me like I'm meat.
Tears began to blur her vision, turning the room into watercolor smears.
"You're the worst," she whispered, venom dripping from each syllable.
Yet her hands never stopped. The fourth button gave way. Then the fifth.
With the final button undone, she peeled the shirt from her shoulders, letting it whisper down her arms to join the blazer.
Her skin was porcelain under the bedroom's soft lighting—unmarred, almost luminous. Her belly was flat, her navel a delicate indent above the waistband of her skirt. Her bra was functional rather than seductive—white cotton with a small bow at the center—but the way it struggled to contain her modest breasts made it obscene in its innocence.
She unclasped it with trembling fingers.
The straps slid down her shoulders.
And then there was nothing between her and his gaze.
Her breasts bounced free—soft, teardrop-shaped, capped with nipples the color of cherry blossoms. They weren't large, barely a handful each, but they sat high and pert on her chest, youthful and impossibly tempting.
Yoru crossed her arms over herself, shielding what she could. The mist in her eyes grew denser, threatening to spill.
Riku settled onto the edge of her bed, mattress dipping beneath his weight.
"Come here."
She shuffled closer, arms still locked protectively across her chest, and lowered herself beside him—close enough that he could smell her. That same milky sweetness from before, warm and clean, like fresh laundry and something uniquely her.
"Hands down."
The command hung in the air.
Slowly—agonizingly slowly—her arms fell away, revealing herself fully. Her nipples had tightened in the cool air, two rosy peaks that seemed to beg for attention despite her loathing.
Her eyes locked onto his, burning with hatred.
"Start," Riku said. "I shouldn't have to tell you what to do next."
Yoru's gaze dropped to his lap—to the unmistakable tent straining against his uniform pants.
"You really are scum."
He shrugged, utterly unrepentant.
"You're the first person to say that to my face. But you definitely won't be the last." He gestured lazily toward the door. "Time's running out. Your mother's right outside... and I'm sure you don't want her walking in on this."
The Narrator chimed in once more:
「You've discovered a genuine talent for this Antagonistic behavior. Your words have shattered Hirose Yoru's composure once again. Now, you simply need to—」
Before Yoru could reach for him, Riku moved first.
He surged forward, arms wrapping around her slender frame, and bore her down onto the mattress. Her bare back hit the sheets with a soft fwump, and suddenly he was above her—weight pinning her hips, hands capturing her wrists.
She squirmed beneath him, a halfhearted struggle.
"Scum—!"
He spread her arms wide, exposing her completely.
God. Up close, she was even more stunning. Her breasts rose and fell with rapid breaths, nipples stiff and trembling. Her stomach quivered. Her whole body seemed to pulse with reluctant heat.
"Your body's amazing," he murmured.
"Just—nnh—hurry up!"
Instead of obliging, Riku dipped his head to the curve of her neck and inhaled deeply.
The milky scent was stronger here, laced with something warmer—adrenaline, maybe, or the first stirrings of arousal. Definitely not perfume. This was all her.
"You seem eager," he teased, lips brushing her throat.
"I—I'm not—"
"Beg me." His breath ghosted over her collarbone. "Beg me to hurry, and maybe I will."
Before she could respond, the moment shattered.
Knock knock knock.
Hirose Kaguya's voice floated through the door, warm and oblivious.
"Riku-kun, Yoru-chan~ Dinner's ready! Come eat before it gets cold—you two can study afterward!"
Riku froze. Beneath him, Yoru had gone rigid.
"Coming, Mom!" Yoru's voice cracked slightly, but she managed to keep it steady.
He pushed himself up, frustration coiling in his gut. If Kaguya walked in now...
Everything goes up in smoke.
He rose from the bed and straightened his clothes, heading for the door.
Behind him, Yoru scrambled to redress—fingers flying over buttons, yanking her blazer back on. By the time Riku's hand touched the doorknob, she was clothed again, though her face remained flushed crimson.
She turned away from the door, unwilling to let her mother see her expression.
Click.
The door swung open.
Riku offered his most charming smile.
"We're ready, Oba-san. You go ahead—Yoru-chan wanted to tell me something first."
Kaguya tilted her head, glancing between Riku and her daughter's turned back. Something felt... odd. She couldn't quite place it.
But she smiled anyway and retreated toward the dining room.
The moment she was gone, Riku closed the door again.
"Looks like our little arrangement got interrupted." He leaned against the frame, arms crossed. "I suppose that means our deal is void."
Yoru's expression curdled with fresh disgust.
"Whenever you want," she bit out, each word like shards of glass. "As long as you keep your promise about my mother."
Riku pushed off the door and closed the distance between them.
"Whenever I want?"
"Y-Yes, I—"
Before she could finish, his hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her in.
Their lips met.
She tasted like strawberry lip balm and something sweeter underneath—soft and yielding despite her hatred. Her mouth opened slightly in surprise, and he took the invitation, tongue sliding past her teeth to explore. She made a small, muffled sound against him—half protest, half something else entirely.
Nnnph...
When he finally released her, a thin strand of saliva connected their lips for a heartbeat before snapping.
Yoru's face had turned the color of a ripe apple—pale skin flushed pink and red, dewy and unbearably fresh.
Riku smirked.
"Consider that interest on our debt."
He turned and walked out, leaving her standing there—chest heaving, lips swollen, and something complicated burning behind her tear-bright eyes.
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