At home, Yu dressed especially cute but casual, with his hair loose but curled and wore a pink sundress with a white cardigan and matching white heart shaped bag and light makeup. Meanwhile, Taichi threw on a white t-shirt and blue jeans, his nape long black hair was brushed back but wild so Yu took his red elastic bands to put it in a low ponytail. Once the pair were ready, they headed out to meet up with Fumiko and Sakura.
Yu had never set foot inside a karaoke parlor before. The neon-lit lobby alone made him gawk like he'd stepped into another dimension. Rows of glowing touchscreens. A counter stacked with laminated menus thicker than school textbooks. Posters of shiny idols plastered across every wall, smiling with microphones in hand.
"W-we're really doing this?"
Yu whispered, clutching his bag strap tight.
"Like… they just let people sing… publicly? In a box? For fun?"
Sakura grinned ear to ear, grabbing his wrist.
"That's the point, Yu! C'mon—it's a rite of passage!"
"Yeah, you'll love it!"
Fumiko added, half amused, half exasperated at his deer-in-headlights look.
Just as the group started toward their private room, a too-familiar voice called out.
"Yo, is that Taichi?"
Yu froze. Turning, he saw Souma Satou and Yamato Yamada waving them down with obnoxious energy.
The girls exchanged a silent look of "this was a mistake," but it was too late. Within minutes, the six of them were crammed into a room plastered with disco lights and armed with wireless mics.
Yu sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, overwhelmed by flashing lights and glowing screen. Meanwhile, Sakura shoved the songbook into his lap.
"Your turn first!"
"M-my turn?!"
"Yeah, rookie sings first!"
Souma crowed, grabbing a mic and pretending to host.
"It's the law of karaoke!"
Yu's cheeks burned.
"But—I've never even—"
"Exactly why it'll be great!"
Sakura cut him off, eyes sparkling.
"Trust us. Just pick anything you like."
On the far end of the couch, Taichi slouched with his arms crossed, glowering. He hadn't said a word since Souma and Yamato joined in. His knee bounced under the table, but he kept himself in check—for Yu's sake.
Yu fumbled through the tablet menu, nearly dropping it twice, before landing on a safe choice: a current pop ballad every student seemed to know. He clutched the mic like it might bite him, eyes darting nervously across the room.
Then the music swelled.
Yu opened his mouth.
And the world stopped.
His voice poured out—pure, clear, and achingly beautiful, carrying emotion that made the recorded version feel hollow in comparison. Every note soared with effortless control, like he wasn't just singing but weaving light itself into sound.
The chatter, the laughter, the snickering—all gone. Everyone stared, jaws slack, as the shyest member of their class transformed into something ethereal before their eyes.
By the final chorus, Souma had dropped the mic he was holding. Yamato looked like he'd seen God descend in the flesh. Sakura actually squealed, clapping her hands like a fangirl. Fumiko's eyes glistened as though she might cry.
And Taichi—he'd uncrossed his arms without realizing it, his brooding glare replaced by wide-eyed awe, staring at Yu like he was witnessing a miracle.
The song ended. Silence. Then—
"Yu…"
Sakura breathed, breaking it first.
"You… sound like literal angels."
Souma slammed his hands on the table.
"No—seriously, what the hell?! You're better than the original singer!"
Yamato pointed dramatically.
"Forget karaoke—you could be the number one idol in the whole damn world if you wanted!"
Yu's face turned crimson.
"E-eh?! No way! I just… I was just singing the words, that's all…"
He hugged the mic to his chest, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of praise.
Taichi's chest tightened, a complicated mix of pride and possessiveness. His Yu—shining like that for everyone to see.
Yu quickly went and sat stiff beside Taichi, mic still clutched in both hands, heat crawling up his neck. The room hadn't stopped staring at him. Not even after the applause. Not even after Souma demanded a repeat.
"Th-they're exaggerating…"
He muttered, shrinking into himself. DK01 sly spoke up in his mind.
[Not exaggerating at all. Your voice is a weapon, Host. The Lust Demons of your world were descended from merfolk. The purer the lineage among them, the more of their traits Lust Demon inherited such as the merfolks voices that can bind and bend hearts. That Incubus King soul of yours?]
DK01 paused for dramatic effect before continuing.
[It seems that it resonates through this vessel, bleeding its gifts into Yukio's fragile human body, albeit just enough to garner praise, not enough to actually coax commands. It's the same with your passive skill Visus Exhaurire, which allows you to drain energy from those around you through your skin, however at the moment, it's barely noticeable.]
Yu winced.
'Merfolk? Kings? Resonating souls? Why is this all sounding so new to me?'
"Or maybe,"
He whispered under his breath,
"I just… always sung like this. That's all."
But when his eyes slid sideways—landing on Taichi staring at him like he was both proud and terrified—Yu's chest tightened. The praises… they were nice. Embarrassing, but nice. Especially if Taichi thought so too.
Soon, though, the pressure snowballed.
"Sing another one!"
Yamato begged, already queuing a track.
"One more ballad, pleeease!"
Souma chimed.
Even Sakura bounced in place, her phone camera hovering like a spotlight.
Yu tried to protest, but another instrumental swelled, and suddenly he was caught again—another song, another tide of voices cheering him on. And another.
By the third encore, sweat dampened his brow. His throat tickled. He was smiling despite himself, but fatigue tugged at the corners of his expression.
That's when Taichi cut in.
"Enough."
The single word dropped like a stone. Everyone's heads snapped toward him.
Taichi's gaze swept the group—sharp, protective, simmering. He reached over and gently took the mic from Yu's hand.
"Yu needs to rest. If you want more singing, one of you go next."
There was a beat of stunned silence. Then—
"…Fair enough,"
Fumiko said, her voice steady. She glanced at Yu's flushed face and added.
"She looks tired. You're right."
Then her eyes turned mischievous.
"So, Taichi—you go."
Souma lit up instantly.
"Oh, hell yes, the beast sings!"
Yamato whooped.
"This I have to see."
Sakura, meanwhile, had already uploaded snippets of Yu's songs to her Instagram story. The little heart icons were flooding in real time. She smirked and pivoted her phone toward Taichi, opening her camera app again.
"Smile, Taichi. You're up next."
Yu's jaw dropped.
"Wait—you guys really want Taichi to—"
Taichi's hand curled tighter around the mic, the muscle in his jaw ticking. His ears burned under the weight of everyone's expectant stares, but Yu's thoughts in the back of his mind spiraled.
'They all loved hearing me. Will they… laugh at him if he's not good?'
The room vibrated with anticipation.
Taichi's fingers tightened around the mic. He looked ready to crush it in half just from the weight of attention—but then the screen lit with the opening bars of a song Yamato had queued up. A rock ballad. Not too fast, not too sappy. Safe.
"C'mon, Taichi!"
Souma yelled.
"Don't chicken out now!"
Yamato grinned.
Taichi shot them both a glare sharp enough to silence the entire booth. Then—he opened his mouth.
His voice dropped low, a rich baritone rolling out like smoke. Rough around the edges, but warm. Each note landed steady, powerful. Not angelic, not impossibly flawless like Yu's had been. But there was something grounding about it, something that tugged at the chest.
The lyrics cut through the backing track, heavy and honest. By the chorus, even the rowdy boys had gone quiet.
Yu's hands gripped the hem of his sundress. His heart thudded harder than when he had been the one singing.
It wasn't perfect. It wasn't polished. But it was Taichi's voice—deep, familiar, wrapping him in the same way his arms did. Safe. Strong. Warm.
'It's my favorite.'
The thought slipped out before Yu could stop it. He buried his face in his hands, flustered, but the heat wouldn't fade from his cheeks.
By the time Taichi finished, the booth erupted.
"Holy crap, that was amazing!"
Yamato slapped the table.
"Dude, you could be in a boy band!"
Souma barked.
"I see now! The beast has hidden talents!"
Sakura teased, camera still rolling.
Taichi looked away, jaw tight, clearly embarrassed. But then his gaze found Yu. Just Yu.
Yu, staring at him with wide, sparkling eyes, cheeks pink. Like he'd just heard something otherworldly.
The corner of Taichi's mouth twitched. He exhaled, soft, almost smug.
Maybe the whole world could cheer for Yu's voice. Fine. But this—Yu's gaze right now? This was his.
The booth buzzed with energy, like a hive stirred up.
"They have to sing together next!"
Sakura's grin stretched ear to ear.
"Yes! The princess and the beast duet!"
Souma banged his fist against the table.
"Oh, this I gotta hear!"
Yamato snickered, already flipping through the machine's catalog.
Taichi's brows shot down.
"Huh?"
But the song was already picked, the opening melody filling the speakers. A love song. Sugary, dramatic, the type meant for couples to croon at each other.
Yu nearly jumped out of his seat.
"W-Wait, wait! This is—!"
Taichi didn't give him a chance. He tugged Yu close, mic in hand, and rumbled the opening verse. Low, smooth, every word dripping with the kind of sincerity that made Yu's pulse stutter.
Then the chorus hit—Yu's turn. His lips trembled, voice spilling out soft and sweet. The moment their harmonies tangled, the room exploded.
"Oh my god, they sound perfect together!"
"This is like some idol drama!"
"They're really doing a love song duet—!"
Yu's entire body flushed scarlet. His knees wobbled. By the second chorus, he could barely force the words out. His throat locked, chest too tight, face hot enough to fry an egg.
Finally, with a squeak that was not dignified, he buried his face in Taichi's shoulder.
"I c-can't—!"
The booth erupted.
Too adorable. Too much.
Even Yamato stopped teasing, doubled over with laughter. Sakura waved her phone around, shrieking:
"THIS IS GOING ON MY STORY!"
While Souma wheezed into his soda.
Taichi, meanwhile, looked like he was seconds away from breaking the mic in half—protective heat flashing in his eyes.
"Stop gawking."
He growled low, glaring around the booth until the noise simmered down.
And just like that, the spell broke. The machine rolled to the next queue, and the spotlight shifted. One by one, the others jumped back into singing, the energy scattering into more playful chaos.
Yu collapsed into his seat, a glass of water pressed to his lips, the cold seeping into his overheated skin. His breath shivered out.
"Almost fainted…"
He muttered under his breath, sipping greedily.
DK01 stirred in the back of his mind, voice less clinical this time, softer.
[You know… I may not have been around for long but I've run a thousand simulations of you in different worlds. Different bodies. Different lives. But this—this feeling you just had? It's rare. It's… real. Not because you sang well. But because his voice reached you. And you let it.]
Yu froze, glass halfway to the table. His reflection shimmered on the water's surface, cheeks still pink, eyes wide.
He swallowed. Quiet. Honest, even if only to himself—
'Taichi's voice really is… my favorite.'
---
After Yu's near-fainting episode, the spotlight swung wide. Yamato dramatically belted out a cheesy 80s ballad, clutching the mic like it was his long-lost lover. Souma followed with an anime opening, punching the air with every note. Even Fumiko, after some nudging, picked a pop track and surprised everyone with her surprisingly smooth, low voice.
The booth filled with claps, cheers, off-key back-up singing. The pressure slid off Yu's shoulders just enough that he laughed again, slipping into the moment.
In between songs, Sakura leaned across the table, tugging Yu in.
"C'mon, selfie time! One with all three of us!"
Yu blinked, fumbling with his bangs, but he leaned in anyway. Fumiko reluctantly joined on the other side, and Sakura snapped the shot.
Flash.
Yu squinted at the screen as Sakura shoved it toward him, already typing a caption. Within seconds it was on her story, Yu's flushed smile caught between the girls. Fumiko followed, posting a calmer shot, Yu mid-laugh. Yu himself, after a nervous pause, uploaded one too—a clip Sakura had recorded of him, cheeks pink, clutching his water glass.
The comments started rolling in almost instantly.
From the corner of his eye, Yu noticed Taichi lean back, phone tilted low in his lap. Silent. Fast. Every single post Yu was tagged in: liked. His thumb moved the second the uploads went live.
A weird little flutter went through Yu's chest at that.
Meanwhile, Taichi stayed fixed like a shadow at his side, letting the others sing and scream but always angling his body between Yu and the louder chaos. When someone reached too close with a mic cord, Taichi's hand was there, tugging it aside. When Yu shifted to grab another soda, Taichi steadied the cup for him.
And if anyone noticed how his eyes kept flicking toward Yu's Instagram feed, no one said a thing.
By the time the last song wound down, the booth was a wreck of empty glasses and hoarse laughter. Everyone was flushed, buzzing, reluctant to call it quits—but the clock was merciless.
"Ahh, I could sing for another three hours."
Yamato groaned, collapsing against Souma.
"Your voice is already gone."
Souma shot back, smirking.
Sakura stretched her arms high, her bracelets jingling.
"That was perfect. Best Saturday night."
Fumiko gathered her bag, giving Yu a small smile.
"You were amazing, Yu. Really."
Yu ducked his head, embarrassed all over again, but the praise warmed him.
Outside, the night air wrapped cool around their overheated skin, the neon karaoke sign buzzing above them. The group spilled onto the sidewalk, voices still overlapping, retelling their favorite highlights.
Yu clutched his bag, eyes flicking between his friends, the glowing screens from their phone in their hands—and Taichi, standing just a step closer than necessary, arms full of everyone's leftover food and half-empty drink bottles, his phone slipping back into his pocket after one last silent like.
The group walked side by side down the lively street, karaoke still buzzing in their bones. Neon lights reflected in the puddles left from a brief evening shower, their voices carrying above the hum of passing cars.
"So, Yu…"
Sakura sing-songed, sliding up on his left.
"When are we getting the album drop?"
Yu nearly tripped over a curb.
"A-album!? No, no, no!"
He waved his hands frantically, face blazing.
"That was just—just karaoke!"
"Just karaoke?"
Yamato swooned dramatically, clutching his chest.
"Princess Yu's voice could heal nations! Make grown men weep! Bring peace to the world!"
He turned to Souma, pretending to choke.
"I—I can't live… knowing I'll never hear that voice again!"
Souma rolled his eyes and shoved him.
"Shut up, drama king."
But even he smirked at Yu.
"Seriously though. You're insanely good."
Fumiko gave a firm nod.
"Better than most idols on TV."
Yu groaned, burying his red face in his hands.
"Stop, you're all just teasing me…"
"Not teasing!"
Sakura said cheerfully.
"Just facts. Right, Taichi?"
Everyone glanced over.
Taichi, still carrying most of the group's bags from earlier, blinked as if pulled out of a trance. His eyes softened the second they landed on Yu.
"…Yeah. Yu's voice is my favorite."
The group erupted.
"OOOOHHHHH!"
Sakura and Yamato screeched in unison.
"Whipped boyfriend strikes again."
Souma muttered.
Even Fumiko gave a tiny chuckle, shaking her head.
Yu tugged at Taichi's sleeve, mortified.
"D-don't say it like that!"
But Taichi only tilted his head, unbothered.
"It's the truth."
The teasing carried all the way down the street—jokes, laughter, Yamato's fake sobbing, Sakura dramatically planning Yu's idol debut, Souma muttering about how ridiculous they all sounded. Yu flailed through it, caught between embarrassment and reluctant joy, while Taichi trudged along like an pack mule who was completely content carrying everything as long as Yu stayed within reach.
Eventually, though, the bright streets began to thin. Shops closed, neon signs blinked out, and the air grew quieter. At the crossroads, the group naturally slowed.
"This is us."
Sakura said, as she reached for her doggy bag.
"See you later, Yu-chan!"
"Rest that precious voice."
Yamato added, sniffling dramatically, taking his and Souma's doggy bags as well.
Souma gave a little wave as he took his and Yamato's drinks.
"Later."
Fumiko lingered just a second longer, her eyes flicking between Yu and Taichi, her smile thinner than the others' as she grabbed her bag from Taichi as well.
"…Get home safe you two."
Yu nodded quickly.
"You too!"
Then the group began to peel away, footsteps scattering down the other streets.
And just like that—the laughter faded, leaving Yu and Taichi alone again. The night stretched quiet around them, their footsteps echoing softer now.
Taichi shifted the remaining bags in his arms, gaze flicking toward Yu. His silence wasn't heavy—not yet. But it carried that edge, the simmering possessiveness that had only been muffled by all the noise before.
Yu swallowed, hugging his own small bag close as the two of them walked the familiar path toward their apartment complex, the teasing warmth from moments ago fading into a prickling unease.
The walk home was nothing like the bright, noisy trek they'd started with. Each block they crossed, the laughter of their friends felt further away, swallowed by the low hum of streetlamps and the shuffle of their own footsteps.
Yu kept sneaking glances at Taichi out of the corner of his eye. Normally, Taichi's quiet was a steady sort of thing—comforting, dependable. Tonight it felt… sharper. Like every second he wasn't saying something was actually him holding something back.
Yu hugged his bag to his chest tighter.
"Um… you're awfully quiet."
Taichi shifted the shopping bags in his arms, gaze fixed straight ahead.
"…Just tired."
The answer was short, maybe too short. Yu's chest gave a funny twist, caught between believing him and worrying more. He thought of the karaoke room, how Taichi had looked when everyone praised him, how his voice had lingered even after Yu almost fainted. There was something brewing behind those dark green eyes, Yu could tell—but every time he thought to ask, the words clamped in his throat.
The air between them stretched taut as wire all the way to their building.
At last, they reached the apartment complex, the buzz of the vending machines out front the only sound besides their footsteps. Taichi carried the bags all the way up the stairs without complaint, unlocked the door, and held it open for Yu like always.
The second Yu stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The studio apartment was small, but it wrapped around them like a cocoon, the city's noise muffled to a distant hum.
Yu let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, setting his purse down by the bed. The tension from outside didn't vanish exactly—but it bent, softened, like the room itself refused to carry it as heavily as the streets had.
He turned just in time to see Taichi closing the door behind him, the lock clicking in place. And in the quiet of that tiny apartment, Yu felt every ounce of Taichi's silence pressing in—private, close, and impossible to ignore.
Yu fiddled with the hem of his cardigan, standing awkwardly near the bed while Taichi put the bags down on the table with more care than necessary. The silence swelled between them, heavy enough to press against Yu's ribs.
"…Hey…"
Yu finally blurted, voice thinner than he meant.
"Um. Did—did something happen? You've been… I dunno, different since karaoke. Or maybe since earlier."
Taichi didn't look at him right away. His shoulders shifted, the muscles under his shirt pulling tight like a bowstring.
"…You noticed."
"Of course I noticed!"
Yu's fingers twisted tighter into the hem of his cardigan.
"You've been quiet in a weird way. And it's… it's kinda scary when you're like that."
That seemed to strike something, because Taichi's eyes finally lifted to Yu's—dark, intense, carrying shadows Yu wasn't used to seeing so bare. He crossed the small space in two strides, but instead of grabbing Yu like he sometimes did, he stopped just short, close enough that Yu could feel his heat.
"I'm trying, Yu."
His voice was low, rough-edged, like the words scraped on the way out.
"I'm trying to be what you need. Not clingy. Not… scary. But—"
His hands flexed at his sides, aching to move but fighting themselves still.
"It's hard. This ugly feeling doesn't go away. The thought of anyone else looking at you, or taking your time from me—it burns. And I hate it. Because if I let it out, I'll just make you sad. And worse—"
His throat bobbed, eyes darting away.
"—you'll push me away."
Yu's breath hitched, his heart tripping over itself. He didn't know what to say to that. He'd never seen Taichi so raw, so close to breaking.
[Warning]
DK01's voice cracked like static in Yu's head, sharp and urgent.
[Host, his emotional stability is spiking. If you don't diffuse this, the system may deem your worldline compromised. That could mean reset. Back to day one.]