[Library – Phone Booth Section]
Satou Shirou stepped into the phone booth on the opposite end of the library's communication alcove.
The fluorescent strip above flickered once, casting his confused expression in harsh white light. His fingers drummed against the cold metal shelf beneath the payphone—though he wasn't using it. His smartphone pressed against his ear instead, the dial tone droning through the speaker.
Where did Yoru go?
It had been too long. No word. No text. No response to any of the messages he'd sent over the past half hour.
Shirou's thumb hovered over his screen, scrolling through their chat log. His last three messages sat there, delivered but unread. Blue checkmarks, no response. The timestamps mocked him.
Did I do something wrong again?
It had happened before. Yoru would go silent, and he'd spend hours replaying every interaction, searching for the invisible offense he'd committed. She never told him directly when he upset her. She just... vanished. And he'd learned that the only way forward was to apologize first, even when he didn't know what he was apologizing for.
The phone booth smelled of old plastic and stale breath. Someone had scratched "Kirito was here" into the aluminum frame with a key.
Shirou pressed the call button.
Brrr... Brrr... Patapim...
His free hand gripped the edge of the shelf. The metal was cold against his palm, grounding him against the rising tide of anxiety pooling in his stomach.
Pick up. Please pick up.
Brrring... Brrring...
Nothing.
---
[Adjacent Phone Booth]
Hirose Yoru's face had lost all composure.
Her uniform blouse hung open, buttons scattered somewhere on the floor. Her skirt was bunched around her hips, pleated fabric twisted and wrinkled beyond recognition. Sweat dampened the hair at her temples, strands sticking to flushed cheeks.
On the floor, buried in the pile of discarded clothing, her phone began to vibrate.
Bzzz... Bzzz... Bzzz...
Riku's movements stopped.
He leaned in close, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. The scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something darker, muskier—mixed with the salt-sweet smell of exertion.
"Do you need to answer that?"
Yoru's eyes were unfocused, glazed over. Her pupils dilated, lips parted, chest heaving with each shallow breath. She didn't respond. Couldn't respond. The question didn't even register.
Riku studied her expression for a moment, then withdrew entirely.
The sudden absence made her gasp. Her hips chased after him involuntarily, and when she realized what her body had done, shame flooded her features.
But instead of retreating, Yoru looped her arms around Riku's neck.
She started moving herself.
I hate this. I hate him. I hate what he's doing to me.
Her thighs trembled with the effort, inner muscles clenching around nothing, desperate for friction.
But I can't stop.
Riku bent down and fished her phone from the heap of clothing. The screen glowed bright in the dim booth.
INCOMING CALL: Satou Shirou ♥
His thumb drifted toward the red button.
Then the voice in his head spoke again.
「Hirose Yoru's boyfriend seems to have noticed something unusual. Her prolonged absence has made him suspicious. You decide to answer this call. Let Hirose Yoru explain herself.」
Riku's lips curved upward.
Interesting.
His thumb moved to the green button instead.
He pressed accept.
"Yoru? What's wrong? Are you angry at me?"
Shirou's voice crackled through the tiny speaker.
"Yoru?"
The sound of her boyfriend's voice cut through the fog in Yoru's brain like ice water. Her eyes snapped into focus. Panic flooded her system.
She clamped both hands over her mouth.
"Mmph—!"
The muffled sound escaped anyway.
On the other end, Shirou's brow furrowed. He pressed the phone harder against his ear, straining to hear through what sounded like static and... something else.
"Yoru? What's going on?"
"Please don't be mad anymore, okay? Whatever it is, let's talk about it."
Riku brought the phone closer to Yoru's ear.
At the same time, his hips surged forward—harder and faster than before.
Yoru's back arched off the glass wall. Her scream caught in her throat, transmuting into a strangled whimper that she barely managed to contain behind her palms.
She grabbed the phone from Riku's hand, desperation lending her strength.
"Shi—Shirou..."
Her voice came out broken. Breathless. Wrong.
Shirou's concern deepened. He leaned forward in his own booth, as if proximity to the phone would somehow help him understand.
"Are you okay? You sound strange. Is something wrong?"
Yoru bit down on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Copper flooded her tongue. Her hips were moving against her will, matching Riku's rhythm, betraying her even as she tried to speak.
"Shirou... I—I'm fine... I just—nngh~..."
"Yoru? What was that? Are you hurt somewhere?"
"Shirou, I... I'm—mmph~... I'm outside."
Her words came in fragments, punctuated by movements she couldn't control.
"Something... came up... at home—nngh~... I need to go—haah~... home..."
She mashed the end call button with trembling fingers.
The screen went dark.
And then she couldn't hold back anymore.
"Aaahh—!"
Her voice echoed off the soundproof glass, contained within the booth but no less intense for it. Her whole body shook, muscles seizing, back sliding down the wall as her legs gave out.
Riku watched her face contort with a detached sort of appreciation.
"You're good at holding back. I'm impressed."
Yoru's glare could have stripped paint. Her chest heaved, breasts rising and falling with each ragged breath. Hatred burned in her eyes—pure, undiluted, venomous.
"You... bastard... hurry up... and finish..."
"Oh? You want me to go faster?"
Riku's physical condition, enhanced by the narrator's blessing, had reached near-athletic levels. His stamina was inhuman. His control, absolute.
He shifted angles slightly, found that spot that made her eyes roll back, and accelerated.
Yoru's entire body spasmed. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks through his shirt. Her mouth opened in a silent scream.
"Stop—please—nngh~—slow down—I can't—"
Her pleas dissolved into incoherent moans.
---
[Library – Phone Booth Section ]
Shirou stepped out of his booth.
His phone sat heavy in his pocket, the call log showing the conversation had lasted less than forty seconds.
Something's wrong.
He'd known Yoru for two years. He knew what she sounded like happy, sad, angry, tired. He knew the cadence of her speech when she was annoyed with him versus when she was genuinely upset.
That wasn't any of those things.
That was... something else.
The way she was breathing. Those sounds. Like she was...
He shook his head violently, physically dislodging the thought before it could form.
No. That's insane. This is Yoru we're talking about.
But the evidence mounted in his mind anyway:
She'd left the library without warning.
She hadn't responded to any messages.
When she finally answered, she could barely string a sentence together.
And those sounds...
Shirou grabbed his backpack from the study table he'd reserved for them.
I need to see her. I need to go to her house.
He practically ran for the exit.
---
[Phone Booth]
Yoru lay crumpled on the floor.
Her body refused to obey commands. Every muscle had liquefied. Tremors ran through her limbs in irregular waves, aftershocks of something her mind refused to acknowledge.
Ten minutes passed before she could even attempt to sit up.
Her fingers fumbled with buttons, missing holes, having to redo the same one three times. She had to lean against the glass wall just to stay upright while pulling her skirt back into place.
When she finally managed to stand—barely—she fixed Riku with a glare that could have frozen magma.
"You promised. Keep your word."
Riku reached out and gripped her chin, tilting her face up toward the light.
"I love that look in your eyes."
Yoru slapped his hand away.
"The phone. Give it to me."
「You decide to show Hirose Yoru the phone. After all, there's nothing on it. When a woman who's been threatened by nonexistent evidence realizes she's lost her body for nothing... you're curious what her reaction will be.」
Riku smiled and handed over his phone.
Yoru snatched it from his grip. Her fingers flew across the screen, opening folders, checking recent files, searching the gallery.
Nothing.
No videos.
No photos.
Nothing.
She looked up, confusion cutting through her fury.
"You deleted it?"
Riku tilted his head, expression perfectly innocent.
"Deleted what?"
"The video! Of my mother! You said you had—"
"Oh, that."
Riku's smile widened.
"That was a lie. There was never any video. I made it up."
The words hit Yoru like a physical blow.
Her face went blank for one second. Two.
Then it twisted into something ugly.
"You... tricked me?"
He tricked me.
There was never any video.
I came here. I let him... I let him do all of that... for NOTHING.
I gave him my first time.
In front of my boyfriend.
For NOTHING.
Yoru's hands balled into fists so tight her knuckles went white. Her entire body shook—not from pleasure this time, but from rage so intense it bordered on hysteria.
Riku reclaimed his phone.
"I never actually said I had a video of your mother. You assumed. I just... didn't correct you."
"We're even now."
"You DEMON!"
Her legs still wouldn't work properly. She was still using the wall to stay upright. Even her voice cracked with the effort of shouting.
「Hirose Yoru's psychological defenses are near collapse. If you can make her—someone who despises you—lower herself to ask you for something, you'll have complete control over her.」
「You notice that after your... activities, Hirose Yoru can barely walk. If you pretend to leave, she'll have no choice but to ask for your help. And when she does...」
Riku nodded internally.
Makes sense.
He reached for the door handle.
"Excuse me. I need to leave."
Yoru's hand shot out and grabbed his arm.
Riku looked back at her with mock surprise.
"What? You want to do more? I don't think that's a good idea—"
Yoru's expression cycled through emotions faster than her brain could process them.
Shame. Fury. Desperation.
And beneath all of it, visible in the way her lower lip trembled, in the way her eyes glistened under the harsh booth lighting—
Pleading.