"Excuse me, what are your thoughts on young people staying up late these days?"
The television was broadcasting an interview program about modern youth and their late-night habits.
On the screen, an elderly man was speaking into the microphone.
On the sofa, the three of them — Sakurai Saki, Gabriel, and Vignette — had just finished lunch and were watching TV together.
Gabriel had planned to escape back to her bedroom to continue her "daily struggle" (a.k.a. gaming), but neither Sakurai Saki nor Vignette allowed her to flee.
"Staying up late?" the old man exclaimed passionately. "Can young people these days even sleep at their age? Youth is something you must fight for! They have exams to prepare for! Society's pressure is immense — young people shoulder heavy burdens—"
He was noticeably energetic for someone retired.
Before the old man could descend into a full social commentary rant, the screen switched to a young woman.
"Excuse me, how often do you stay up late recently?"
The pale-faced girl smiled faintly.
"I haven't been staying up late recently."
Sakurai Saki glanced at her face, then at Gabriel.
The girl who claimed she hadn't been staying up late looked even paler than the angel sitting beside him.
After a moment, another young woman appeared for an interview — also looking unwell.
"I've been staying up late less these days. It's bad for the skin, so to take care of my complexion, I try to go to bed earlier."
Sakurai Saki felt a prickling sense of déjà vu.
…Something was off.
He fell silent, staring thoughtfully at the screen.
After a few seconds, he finally asked, "…Gabriel, have you noticed anything strange recently?"
Angels had sharper perception toward nearby threats. Even in Tokyo, Gabriel could detect hidden disturbances far better than he could — especially since he didn't have the right Superpower for sensing danger.
He also suddenly remembered the last entry in his future diary: a warning to "be careful of monsters."
And at the social gathering on Thursday, he'd seen a girl with the same pale complexion.
"No," Gabriel replied flatly, eyes glued to the TV.
Compared to this boring interview, she wanted nothing more than to return to her room and grind her levels.
"Maybe I'm overthinking it," Sakurai Saki murmured.
Beside him, Vignette tilted her head. "Did something strange happen?"
If she could help, she would.
"Vinet, you're a demon, right?" Gabriel frowned. She could never understand why Vignette was so kind.
Didn't demons worry about — you know — money?
If a demon didn't do bad things, their living expenses dropped!
…Though Gabriel herself had done nothing particularly good, either.
For a second, Gabriel doubted her own identity.
Maybe she should just move to the Demon World.
With her lazy lifestyle, she'd fit right in — and she'd earn plenty just by being a demon!
But then she imagined her "demon sister" finding out.
Instant death.
She shivered and abandoned that tempting fantasy immediately.
"But… Sakurai-kun seems to be in trouble," Vignette said anxiously.
"It's not trouble," Sakurai Saki said calmly.
And he told them everything from that day.
When he finished, Vignette's expression grew serious.
"It feels like a succubus did it. But absorbing essence to this degree violates the Demon Law!"
Sakurai Saki blinked.
Demon Law?
Demons… follow laws?
So the Demon World was a law-governed society?
"Demons who break the Demon Law," Vignette continued, "will be arrested, judged in the Demon Court, put in a car, and paraded around the main road three times to be scorned by the demon citizens!"
Sakurai Saki: "…"
Demons might actually care more about rule-following than humans.
In human society, plenty of people broke the law on purpose and still walked free.
"Succubus…" Gabriel muttered, instantly losing interest.
Succubi in the Demon World were… embarrassing.
They only absorbed essence and did nothing else.
Humans had a huge misunderstanding about them — succubus wasn't a race, but a profession.
More like hosts and hostesses in the human world… a somewhat disreputable service industry.
"Vignette, what job do you want in the future? Familiar contractor? Succubus?" Gabriel asked, sweeping her gaze over Vignette with the shameless eyes of an old man.
Vignette quickly covered her chest. "I would never do those jobs!"
Sakurai Saki secretly sighed in relief.
If the enemy was just some shady succubus, he wasn't too worried.
Yet… a faint sense of unease remained.
Things couldn't possibly be that simple.
---
Sakurai Saki spent his Saturday at Gabriel's house, achieving his long-cherished goal of a wonderfully lazy weekend.
Life at Gabriel's place was almost identical to life at home — peaceful, quiet, and productive in its own strange way.
Yesterday's Superpower had been teleportation.
He didn't use it much, encountered no accidents, and so there was nothing worth mentioning.
On Sunday, Sakurai Saki originally thought he wouldn't have to go out.
However, Shirogane Miyuki suddenly invited him over as a guest.
Saki considered it for a moment before accepting. He packed a few study materials, planning to exchange notes with Shirogane. With the monthly exam right after Golden Week, he intended to surpass Kaguya Shinomiya—and that meant putting in extra effort.
Still, he wasn't too anxious. He had spent several days tutoring the Nakano quintuplets during Golden Week and managed to study in between. The job turned out better than expected. Aside from dealing with the occasional rich-girl temperament, the real challenge was turning five hopeless students into something resembling average.
Well… except for Miku. Saki felt she wasn't naturally bad—just lazy last year. She learned quickly when she wanted to.
By the time he arrived at the Shirogane residence in Setagaya Ward, it was already a little past nine in the morning.
Standing at the doorstep, Saki pulled out his phone to notify Shirogane. Before long, the door cracked open.
"Shirogane, good morning," he greeted.
Shirogane Miyuki peeked out from behind the door like a suspicious detective, then hurried over and whispered, "Sakurai, I need to discuss something with you."
Saki stared at him.
If someone saw this without context, they'd think Shirogane was pulling him into a bank heist.
"That, uh… Sakurai," Shirogane began as they walked inside, "I heard you're really good at singing."
Saki froze.
Stopped dead in his tracks.
He instantly understood where this was going.
"Uh, Shirogane, I actually have something to do today…" he said, already attempting to back out.
"So you won't help me… I knew it," Shirogane murmured gloomily. "I know how bad I am at singing…"
He looked genuinely crushed. Ever since childhood, singing had been his fatal flaw. Even in junior high choir, classmates politely asked him to just mouth the lyrics. Shirogane wanted to sing well—he hated being bad at it—but talent had rejected him entirely. Outside of academics, he was a constellation of shortcomings.
Saki could have bolted and saved himself…
But seeing Shirogane looking like a drenched puppy abandoned on the roadside, he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
"Shirogane, listen," Saki said with brutal honesty, "your singing isn't just bad. It's on the level of rotten meat."
"Hey! That's way too harsh! It can't be that terrible!" Shirogane was horrified.
"I'm sorry," Saki replied, absolutely merciless. "It might actually be worse."
He sighed. "Never mind. You'll hear for yourself soon."
They made their way to the living room, where Shirogane poured him a cup of tea.
Saki took a sip and commented, "Your tea-making still can't compare to Shinomiya's."
Shirogane didn't take offense. "She's a properly trained young lady. It'd be impressive if I matched her."
Everyone in the Student Council knew Kaguya Shinomiya's exceptional tea skills—just as everyone respected Sakurai Saki's coffee.
"You can do anything if you try hard enough. I've always believed that," Saki said.
"What about singing, then?"
"…Sorry, I forgot to add a condition: singing excluded."
Some things were beyond salvation. If a siren's voice could lure sailors to their doom, Shirogane's singing could kill them outright before they even had time to panic. Calling it tone-deaf was a mercy. Comparing it to rotting organs was generous.
"Sakurai, you're destroying what little confidence I had," Shirogane muttered.
"Then…" Saki took out his phone and opened the recorder. "Want to hear yourself?"
Shirogane swallowed hard.
Two minutes later—
Shirogane lay collapsed on the floor, hands over his head, eyes vacant.
"…This voice… is mine?" he whispered in horror.
"Yes," Saki confirmed without hesitation.
The reason for this sudden obsession with singing was obvious. On Friday, Kaguya Shinomiya had announced the Student Council's first Golden Week activity: karaoke. Everyone agreed immediately. Fujiwara Chika was especially excited—and she even told Shirogane that she couldn't wait to hear him sing.
It was a death sentence disguised as encouragement.
At that moment, Sakurai Saki almost burst out laughing.
The Student Council might not know just how horrifying Shirogane's singing truly was—but after being friends with him for over a year, Saki knew all too well. He had been unfortunate enough to hear it once, and the memory had been burned into his soul ever since.
Not because it was impressive.
But because singing that terrible was a rarity in human history.
"I… I think I'm beyond saving," Shirogane muttered. He had originally hoped to raise his slightly-below-average level to something respectable within the remaining days.
But now, it seemed he had wildly overestimated himself.
"No. There's still hope," Saki denied immediately.
If he could handle the Nakano quintuplets, how could he possibly fear one Shirogane Miyuki?
He was a Superpower user—saying "no" wasn't allowed!
"Let's start with scales." Saki pulled out his phone and opened a basic music-training app. "This is 'Do~.'"
"Du!" Shirogane echoed earnestly.
Saki squinted.
…A little off, but still within the realm of humanity.
Another ten minutes passed.
"This is 'La~,'" Saki demonstrated again.
Half an hour later…
Saki covered his face.
Should he just… use a Superpower?
---
*[Today's Superpower: Mechanical Modification]*
Effect: Permanently mechanize any object. For animals, grants human-level intelligence. For humans, enhances organs and physical performance.
Side effect: None.
---
The side effects had been nonexistent for days now.
Not that Saki cared anymore. With so many questionable abilities stacked up, one more hardly mattered. He might as well enjoy the benefits while he could.
If he mechanized Shirogane's throat, the guy could instantly become a singing prodigy…
What a perfect solution!
…Ahem. A joke. Obviously.
Truthfully, Saki had no idea how to help him at this point. He never imagined a day would come when he, of all people, would be responsible for teaching music.
"Shirogane, practice vocalization when you have free time today," Saki said with a forced smile. "Tomorrow during lunch break, we'll work on rhythm."
Sorry, Shirogane. I'm useless.
You should pray that tomorrow I get a Superpower suited for teaching tone-deaf disasters.
"Shirogane, uh… can you accept becoming a robot?" Saki asked suddenly.
"I'd still prefer to stay human," Shirogane replied, dead serious.
He had no idea he just rejected the chance to become Iron Man.
"Alright then," Saki said, respecting the decision.
This ability was irreversible, after all, and not something to use carelessly.
Shirogane didn't think much of it. Saki had several strange days every month—moments when his wording changed or his personality shifted dramatically.
"By the way, where's Kei?" Saki asked once their 'music lesson' concluded. Only then did he notice she hadn't been home the entire time. Kei usually delivered newspapers on weekends, but it was nearly noon now.
"She went shopping with Secretary Fujiwara," Shirogane replied.
"Oh." Saki nodded. "Does she have enough pocket money? If not, I should give her some."
Girls needed proper care. At Kei's age, it was time for makeup—and cosmetics weren't cheap. Shopping with another girl meant clothes too. It added up quickly.
Shirogane gave him a weird look. "She has enough. And why are you worrying about that anyway? Kei isn't your sister."
Saki had always gotten along with Kei—so well, in fact, that it seemed to bother Shirogane, who suddenly felt his status as 'older brother' was in danger.
If this kept up, would Kei even need him anymore?
"But Kei calls me 'Saki-nii,'" Saki said casually.
"That's different from 'big brother' or 'older brother,'" Shirogane argued, clearly flustered.
Saki rolled his eyes.
Sis-con.
Let's hope you don't cry too loudly at Kei's wedding someday.