Nighttime.
Saeko Busujima lay in bed, tossing and turning, sleep completely out of reach.
Sure, part of it was the new environment—she wasn't used to the bed or the room yet.
But the real reason was what happened at dinner when Shizuka suddenly burst in.
Especially that line: "Why are you in my house?" and "Why are you wearing my bathrobe?"
Every time the memory popped up, Saeko wanted to crawl under the covers, roll around like a panicked caterpillar, and die of pure embarrassment.
She let out a long sigh.
Her eyes drifted to the outfit she'd bought ages ago but never once worn—the one she'd finally worked up the courage to show Shuya tonight.
Too bad.
Guess it would have to wait for next time.
Saeko sat up, figuring a glass of ice water might help cool her down.
She crept to the door, cracked it open just a sliver.
Good—no lights on anywhere. Looked like Shuya and Shizuka had both gone to bed.
She let out a small breath of relief, slipped out, and padded quietly into the living room.
The dinner they'd barely touched was still sitting on the table.
Saeko thought for a second, then decided to pack everything away so it wouldn't spoil. Shuya had cooked way more than two people could eat anyway—plenty left for tomorrow's bentos.
She moved quickly and efficiently, stowing the food in the fridge, then poured herself a tall glass of ice water and downed it in one go.
Just as she turned to head back to her room, she caught an extremely faint sound coming from somewhere in the house—like a woman's soft, plaintive moan.
If she hadn't started training Nen that afternoon, sharpening her senses, she probably never would've noticed it.
And because of Nen, the girl who used to scoff at ghost stories suddenly found herself wondering…
In modern society, killing people is illegal.
But what about ghosts? Monsters? Spirits?
Saeko felt a spark of curiosity. If Nen could hurt "those kinds of things," and if it had nothing to do with Shuya… maybe she could cut one down and finally get that rush she craved?
She followed the sound until she stood in front of a bedroom door.
That was when she realized she'd misunderstood.
Still, she couldn't help being curious. The only other woman in the house was Shizuka, and Shizuka had said this was her house, so this had to be her room.
But why was Shizuka making those strange noises in the middle of the night?
Saeko pressed her ear gently against the door, listening closer.
What she heard next was Shizuka's desperate, pleading voice:
"I was wrong… please, just let me go…"
"Mercy… no more, I really can't take it…"
"Don't… not there…"
And mixed in were Shuya's low, teasing replies:
"That's what you get for ruining my night…"
"You don't actually know you're wrong—you just know you're about to lose it…"
From the conversation, it sounded like Shuya was… disciplining Shizuka?
Saeko actually nodded in agreement. Yeah, she kind of deserved it.
If Shizuka hadn't barged in like that, the charged atmosphere at dinner would've led somewhere very different. Saeko would already be wrapped up in a perfect night with Shuya.
But the longer she listened, the more she realized the sounds were… off.
Her face suddenly burned crimson. A wave of heat flooded her body, like a fire had ignited in her chest and steam was rising off the top of her head.
She'd just finished a full glass of ice water, yet her throat felt dry again.
It was unbearable—like thousands of ants crawling under her skin. She wanted to run away, but her feet refused to move.
Saeko stood there stunned.
She never imagined Shuya and Shizuka had that kind of relationship.
This afternoon she'd even been thinking about giving Rei Miyamoto a little push…
Any other woman might have called Shuya a cheating scumbag for keeping one girl in each hand.
But Saeko wasn't like that.
She honestly believed someone as flawed as her could never deserve the perfect Shuya she saw in her heart.
The version of him with these little human weaknesses actually felt more real—more attainable. It made her feel like she might actually be worthy of him.
So no, she didn't mind how many women were around him.
She was only a little disappointed that his first time hadn't been with her.
She just hoped Shizuka—the "senior" here—would be okay with her joining them.
She had no idea how long she stood there, knees weak, before she finally stumbled back to her room in a daze.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Saeko stared at the pillow and realized she was even less sleepy than before.
Great. Now she was really never falling asleep.
At this point… might as well train.
She crossed her legs, closed her eyes, and started running through the basics Shuya had taught her that afternoon—Ten, Zetsu, and Ren—over and over.
The more she practiced, the calmer her mind became.
But one principle kept nagging at her: Hatsu.
Shuya had said it was something you only developed after you had perfect control of your aura.
Still… she wanted to try.
Her eyes drifted to the white oak practice sword resting on her nightstand—the one she carried everywhere.
It was just a plain wooden blade, but in her hands it became something terrifying.
The problem was it wasn't exactly something you could take everywhere. Trains, for example, always required awkward explanations.
Now that she could use Nen, she was already stronger bare-handed than she used to be with the sword.
But for a girl who'd trained in kendo her whole life, nothing felt safer than having a weapon within reach.
So her mind went straight back to the moment Shuya had casually materialized an exact copy of her white oak sword right in front of her.
If she could do that…
But how?
Saeko opened her palm, first using Ren to push her aura outward, then Ten to gather it back into shape.
She pictured her sword—its weight, its balance, the exact feel of the grip—and slowly began forming the outline.
It's working!
But the second her focus slipped, the half-formed blade dissolved into nothing.
Saeko's eyes sharpened.
Okay. Not as easy as it looked.
She refused to give up and kept trying.
Again.
And again.
She lost track of how many attempts passed.
Then, finally—her face lit up.
Yes!
A perfect replica of her white oak practice sword materialized in her hand.
The instant it formed, the Nen inside her body went wild.
It surged uncontrollably, pouring straight into the wooden blade like a flood.
What Saeko didn't know was that in this moment, the weapon carrying her own Vows and Limitations had just been born.