Meeting her large, beautiful eyes—now shimmering with a complex mix of wariness, accusation, and something else he couldn't quite name—Hozuki Nozomi offered an apologetic, slightly awkward smile.
"You're right," he conceded. "If Eriri truly doesn't want me to hold her, I'll let her go."
True to his word, he carefully set her down, allowing her to perch on the edge of the bed.
Eriri Spencer Sawamura immediately scrambled away, putting a good meter of distance between them. She crossed her arms over her chest, a fortress of defensive posture, and regarded him with a gaze full of profound suspicion and a distinct undercurrent of disdain. Talk is cheap, her expression seemed to say. You've already done the deed! You've already taken your liberties!
Hozuki Nozomi took in her disheveled school uniform and couldn't help a soft chuckle. "I have to admit, I'm a little surprised. I didn't actually think you'd come, Sawamura-san."
Eriri bristled instantly. "You threatened me like that! Of course I came!"
"I was just joking," he said, his tone softening. "How could I really bully you? Eriri Spencer Sawamura is a cornerstone artist for our circle. She should be pampered and revered. If you hadn't come, I wouldn't have done anything."
Eriri's expression shifted to one of deep grievance. "Easy for you to say! If I hadn't come, you'd definitely have threatened me again with exposing 'Kashiwagi Eri'!"
As she spoke, the corners of her eyes grew suspiciously moist.
Seeing this, a pang of genuine remorse struck Nozomi. He sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. That was wrong of me." Using something she clearly cared so deeply about—her polished schoolgirl image—as leverage for a joke was a form of bullying.
Hearing the rogue offer a sincere apology left Eriri momentarily stunned. "You… you're actually apologizing?"
This guy… he's clearly the worst. Why is he being reasonable now?
Nozomi's smile was gentle. "I'm human. I make mistakes. When I realize I'm wrong, I apologize. Sawamura-san must care a great deal about her reputation at school. Using that to threaten her was truly inexcusable. I've reflected on it."
His earnest words did their work. The sharp edge of Eriri's countenance softened. She looked at him, her cheeks still flushed, but her stance relaxed slightly. Placing her hands on her hips in a show of magnanimity, she declared, "Since you've apologized so sincerely… this young lady will forgive you! Hmph! But if you dare use that to threaten me again…"
"I won't," Nozomi promised with a nod and a smile. "And I was serious about the joke. The fact that Eriri Spencer Sawamura is 'Kashiwagi Eri' is a secret I'm desperate to keep. Why would I ever tell some random strangers?"
Upon hearing this, Eriri took two rapid steps back, eyeing him with fresh suspicion. "Y-You… be normal! If you're going to be bad, be properly, consistently bad! What's with this sudden 'gentle male lead' act? Impossible! In my eyes, you're rotten to the core—a pervert, a scumbag! I won't be swayed by this!"
Nozomi's smile froze on his face. So… she's not pleased with a little gentleness? It actually makes her uncomfortable? She prefers the familiar dynamic?
Well, if that was the case, he'd happily revert to the original script.
Taking a deliberate breath, his expression shifted back to the familiar, mischievous smirk. "Since Sawamura-san insists I'm a pervert, then I suppose I should live up to the title."
"Eep—!"
With a small gasp from Eriri, she found herself swept up once more and deposited squarely onto his lap.
The girl's face flushed crimson. She clenched her fists and delivered a few half-hearted thumps to his chest. She squirmed in protest for a few seconds.
And then…
She went still. She… acquiesced.
Her small fists, pounding against him, held no real force. If anything, her struggles only served to increase their points of contact, sending a jolt of heat through Nozomi's veins.
Sensing the change, Eriri didn't dare move recklessly anymore. She looked up at him with wide, watery eyes that held a pitiful plea. "You… you pervert! Make that thing behave!"
Nozomi leaned in, planting a shameless kiss on her cheek before murmuring, "Sorry, no can do. This is entirely due to Eriri's overwhelming charm. For me to 'behave' would be the greatest disrespect to the adorable Eriri Spencer Sawamura."
"Pervert! You're utterly shameless!"
"Same old, same old. I feel absolutely no insult from that. Please, say it some more!"
Perhaps Eriri herself didn't realize it, but the tone she used when calling him "pervert" had long since lost its edge of genuine anger. It now sounded remarkably like a spoiled, petulant complaint—a tone that, paradoxically, was rather invigorating.
Nozomi lowered his head, gazing at her face, which was a captivating blend of nervous tension and shy vulnerability. "Confess," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Does Eriri Spencer Sawamura… secretly prefer it when I'm a little bit bad?"
"Hah?! Are you an idiot?" Her eyes flew open wide, her small fangs bared in a show of defiance. "How could I possibly like that?! You pervert, let me go! Don't you dare kiss me… I hate you!"
Hozuki Nozomi: "..."
You say you hate it, but why is your struggle so feeble? What does it mean to lean so obediently against my chest?
Or… is this just how all tsunderes are?
Having reached this conclusion internally, he naturally had no intention of letting her go. He did, however, restrain himself from going further. He simply rested his chin on the fragrant curve of Eriri's shoulder, one hand idly toying with the silken strands of her golden twin-tail.
Eriri Spencer Sawamura felt like her head was about to start steaming. Her shame meter had exploded. How dare this awful person play with my hair like this?! The thought screamed in her mind.
I hate him! I hate him the most!
"Hiss—!"
Nozomi winced. It seemed she needed to vent the accumulated grievance of being bullied. Eriri had grabbed his arm and sunk her small, sharp fangs into it. The bite had surprising force.
After a good long while, she finally released him. She stared up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of frustration. "Scum. Pervert. Why do you bully me? You already have so many cute girlfriends… I hate you! I hate you the most!"
She punctuated each declaration with a fist thumping against his chest, putting all her (still relatively meager) strength into it. Still unsatisfied, she resorted to her signature twin-tail whip attack, swatting at his face.
Only after thoroughly wearing herself out did she finally subside, slumping slightly where she sat.
Seizing the opportunity, Nozomi unceremoniously hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her back snugly against his chest.
"You've already named me scum and pervert," he murmured into her hair. "A greedy scum like me could never let someone like you go. Now, be a good girl. I won't do anything else. I'll just hold you. When you're willing, I'll be a little more forward."
"I'll never be willing! Take your paws off me! Do you want me to bite you again?!" she threatened fiercely, yet made no move to escape. Instead, she let the back of her head rest against his chest and closed her eyes, a portrait of conflicted resignation. In truth, she didn't even understand herself. Why? Why am I just… letting him hold me like this?
A moment later, Eriri shifted uncomfortably. "That… pervert Nozomi… can't you make it behave?"
"Ahem. That's… an irresistible natural reaction. Unless Eriri becomes less captivating, I'm afraid I can't control it."
"Huh?! What kind of thing is that to say?!" He actually told her to become uglier? Was he even human?
"Well, Sawamura-san," Nozomi reasoned, his voice a low rumble near her ear, "since you're already letting me hold you, let's not sweat the small details."
"Who—who's letting you?! You're clearly… you're shameless! Lecherous! Pervert!"
"Yes, yes. I'm the worst. I'm forcing you."
"Hmph! Liar! Who was it that just said he'd never force a girl?" Eriri's face was scarlet as she crisply voiced her disdain for his hypocrisy. Yet, nestled in his arms, her body remained incredibly, tellingly pliant.
Nozomi breathed in her captivating, unique scent. His hand, almost of its own volition, came to rest on her slender, shapely leg, sheathed in its sleek black thigh-high stocking.
"Ah! Where do you think you're putting that paw?!"