Shiori's exasperated grumbling rolled right off Shuo's back.
He wore his shamelessness like a badge of honor—after all, appreciating beauty was a man's nature, and to be lecherous with style was, in his mind, a sign of true refinement.
But behind him, Origami Tobiichi's gaze was fixed, unblinking, locked onto Shuo.
It was only their second meeting, yet something about him felt… familiar. She couldn't shake the feeling.
So, for the rest of the morning, Origami kept him under quiet, relentless surveillance, cataloguing every move.
Lunch break.
Shuo was still polishing off his meal when Origami appeared at his side, voice flat as ever.
"Nangong-kun, come with me somewhere private. I have something to discuss."
Shuo raised an eyebrow, a little surprised, but nodded.
He followed her out, trailed by Shiori's bemused stare and a chorus of jealous sighs from the classroom's single guys.
A few minutes later…
Shuo stared, stupefied, at the sign on the girls' restroom.
He turned slowly to Origami, his voice hollow.
"This… this is your idea of 'somewhere private'?"
Origami nodded, face unreadable.
"Yes. No one comes here at this hour. Even if you did something to me, no one would know."
With that, she shoved him into a stall and locked the door behind them.
Of course. This was Origami Tobiichi—the "master" of left-field logic.
Shuo was still processing when Origami's next words caught him off guard.
"Why do you assume I'd do something to you?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Origami's reply was as deadpan as ever:
"We're alone. Don't you have any thoughts about a beautiful girl like me?"
As she spoke, her hands moved with clinical precision—unbuttoning, slipping, folding.
Shuo's mind blanked. "Uh, well… now that you mention it, I might have a few thoughts…"
He was still reeling when Origami balled up something white and, without warning, tried to stuff it into his mouth.
"Wait—Origami, what the hell are you doing?!"
Shuo jerked back, face flushed, as Origami looked genuinely puzzled by his resistance.
"I overheard you and Shiori talking. I thought you liked panties?"
She said it with a straight face, not a hint of embarrassment.
Shuo could only stare, mouth twitching.
This girl's logic was on another plane.
He took a deep breath, trying to reset the conversation.
"Let's… table that for now. Origami, what did you actually want to talk about?"
Origami's eyes locked onto his, her tone turning serious.
"I want to know… have we met before?"
Shuo blinked.
"No, I don't think so. This should be our second meeting. Why do you ask?"
Origami's expression didn't change, but her voice grew softer, almost uncertain.
"I don't know. I just… feel like I know you. Like we've met somewhere before."
Déjà vu?
Shuo frowned. He certainly knew plenty about her, but why would Origami feel that way about him? Unless…
A possibility flickered through his mind, but he kept it to himself.
Origami pressed on, her voice returning to its usual flatness.
"Nangong-kun, why did you help the Princess?"
Shuo shrugged, honest for once.
"I just want Spirits to be able to live peacefully among humans. They're not evil by nature, right?"
Origami shook her head, eyes shadowed.
"No. As long as Spirits exist, they'll bring disaster to humanity."
Shuo pressed back, gentle but firm.
"Isn't it the power that causes disasters, not the Spirits themselves? If they can control it, aren't they just like anyone else?"
Origami's composure cracked as old wounds surfaced.
"You're wrong. Spirits are born evil. My parents died because of them."
Her voice trembled, eyes reddening.
"And what about Nightmare? Do you think she could ever be normal? She's killed nearly ten thousand people!"
Shuo fell silent. The pain in her words was real—her childhood trauma, the loss of her parents, had left scars that ran deep.
He couldn't exactly say, "Actually, you're a Spirit too, and you killed your own parents when you traveled back in time."
Even if she believed him, the truth would shatter her.
As for Kurumi—Nightmare—her story was a tragedy of its own. Deceived, betrayed, driven by vengeance, forced to kill to steal time for a hopeless cause.
And most of those ten thousand? Thugs, criminals, people who preyed on others.
If he wanted to free her from her hatred, he'd need to kill the First Spirit or bring her best friend Sawa back to life.
Shuo looked at the trembling Origami, voice gentle but steady.
"If—just suppose—your parents could be brought back. Could you accept peace with the Spirits?"
It was a gamble, but sometimes the simplest solution was the best: fix the root, heal the wound.
Origami's eyes widened, hope flickering, then dimming as reality returned.
"Resurrect them? That's impossible."
Shuo leaned in, voice persuasive.
"What if I really could?"
Origami stared at him, searching his face for a lie.
After a long pause, she nodded.
"If you can do that… I promise I'll stop targeting Spirits."
"Deal."
Shuo grinned, extending his hand for a high five.
But as he opened his palm, he realized he was still holding Origami's white panties—warm from her hands.
He coughed, awkward.
"Uh… Origami, your—"
She cut him off, utterly unfazed.
"If you like them, keep them. I have shorts."
With that, she turned and strode out, leaving Shuo alone in the stall, holding a pair of panties and wondering what the hell just happened.
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