Hakugyoku Hotel, Stockholm Branch – Training Area
May 18, 2021 - Tuesday - 6:30 A.M.
Riku's POV
The morning air in the training area felt unusually quiet. Rays of pale sunlight filtered through the blinds, scattering faint lines across the polished floor and cold metal instruments that stood idle. The room, which usually echoed with chords and laughter, carried only stillness now. My right hand throbbed faintly beneath its bandage—a quiet reminder of my own carelessness.
Last night had been… complicated. After a long and exhausting talk with Johan, I'd finally come clean about everything—about my hand, the pain I'd been hiding for weeks, and the frustration that came with pretending everything was fine. The weight I'd carried silently finally spilled out, and though he didn't say much at first, his expression said enough. Concern, disappointment, and something else—understanding.
In the end, we agreed that for now, I'd focus solely on vocals while bzm would handle the keyboard. It wasn't ideal, but it was the only way forward until things healed. The rest of the group would hear the news later today. For now, we all had a day off—something that sounded almost foreign given how relentless the past few weeks had been.
Still, the problem with my hand couldn't be ignored any longer. After Johan left, I had no choice but to make a call I'd been dreading all evening.
Flashback (last night)
Eirin-san picked up before the second ring. Her calm, silvery voice slipped through the receiver, yet there was a sharpness in it that made my chest tighten. She didn't need to raise her tone; the disappointment alone carried its own weight.
She told me that I'd aggravated my injury again, reminding me of her very clear instructions from before—to refrain from overusing my hand for at least a year. I didn't argue. There wasn't anything I could say that would make it sound better. So I just apologized. It sounded small, even to me.
Her sigh drifted softly over the line. For a moment, there was only silence—then her words came, steady but firm. She said she hadn't realized I could be so reckless, that I always struck her as someone calm and composed. It stung, mostly because she was right. I had been reckless, thinking I could push past the pain like it meant nothing.
When I asked what would happen now, I heard papers shuffle faintly on her end—she was already rearranging her plans, probably packing her things while we spoke. Eirin said she'd be coming to Stockholm to examine my hand herself. If the injury wasn't as severe as she suspected, she might be able to clear me to play on the final day of the festival. But there was a condition: no playing any instruments until she arrived. Not a single note.
I nodded instinctively even though she couldn't see it. There was no arguing with her.
When I asked about her travel plans, she mentioned she was leaving immediately. She happened to have a client in Stockholm as well—someone who could supply her with rare herbs for a new medicine she was developing. That part made me swallow nervously. I remembered the last time she spoke about "new medicine." Back then, she almost turned me into a test subject for her so-called harmless prototype. If my grandfather hadn't stepped in, I might have spent the next week glowing in the dark.
By the end of the call, I could only wish her a safe trip and promise I wouldn't touch an instrument until she arrived. Her last words were sharp yet almost teasing—"Capisce?"—and I gave a half-hearted, nervous "Yes, ma'am" before hanging up.
The moment the call ended, I let out a long breath I didn't realize I was holding. Relief and dread tangled somewhere between my ribs.
That was when the door opened and Youmu entered the room. Her steps were light, measured, and the faint scent of morning dew clung to her as if she'd already been outside training. She took one look at me, her calm expression tightening ever so slightly when she noticed the bandage on my hand.
She asked what was wrong, and I told her I had just finished explaining my condition to Eirin-san. She nodded, unsurprised, and asked what the doctor had said. I repeated Eirin's instructions—that she'd arrive tomorrow morning to examine my hand, and that it was purely coincidental she had business in Stockholm at the same time.
Youmu's gaze softened. Coincidence or not, she said, what mattered was that I would finally recover. Her tone was practical, but I could sense the faint concern hiding beneath her usual composure. She then mentioned that she had already reported everything to Yuyuko-san.
According to her, Yuyuko forbade me from meddling in the hotel's affairs until my hand fully healed. I almost laughed when she said the word forbade—it sounded so absolute, like a royal decree—but deep down, I knew it was for my own good.
Then she added something else. Before she arrived, Yuyuko had received a call from my grandfather, Kyoya. Apparently, he already knew about my injury and the fact that I'd been pushing myself too hard these past weeks. Because of that, he'd decided to lighten my workload back home once I was done here in Stockholm.
I sat there for a moment, letting the words sink in. It wasn't exactly comforting to know that everyone around me had started coordinating to keep me in check. But at the same time, I couldn't deny that part of me was relieved.
When I asked if there was anything else, Youmu shook her head. That was all. She turned to leave, her silver hair catching the faint morning light. But before stepping out, she paused and looked back at me. Her eyes, cool and clear as glass, met mine. She told me quietly that I didn't have to do everything alone—that was why people like her, like Johan and the others, were by my side.
For a moment, I couldn't answer. The words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been. I gave a small nod instead, though I wasn't sure if she noticed.
After she left, the silence returned to the room once again. I glanced at my hand, watching the faint tremor that ran through my fingers whenever I tried to move them. The dull ache pulsed steadily, almost rhythmic, like the sound of a metronome I couldn't shut off.
It wasn't just pain. It was frustration. I'd built my identity around my ability to perform, to lead, to create. And now I was being told to stop—to rest. But maybe that was exactly what I'd needed for a while. Maybe rest wasn't the enemy I'd convinced myself it was.
End of Flashback
Something about Youmu's expression last night had lingered in my mind.
The way her eyes flicked away when I asked if there was anything else to report, the faint tension in her voice—it was unlike her. I knew she was holding something back. She always tried to protect me from unnecessary worries, but that habit of hers only made me worry more. Still, I didn't press her. Whatever it was, I'd let her keep it to herself… at least until the tournament ended.
Morning came in its usual quiet rhythm. The scent of disinfectant and steel filled the training area where the air was cool and clear. I sat cross-legged near the wall, watching Youmu demonstrate a few basic sword-handling forms to Eve-san.
Youmu moved like water—controlled, unbroken, her feet gliding over the polished floor. Eve followed closely, copying every motion, though her stance wavered here and there. She was earnest, though; every correction Youmu made, Eve-san absorbed without hesitation, adjusting her posture with visible determination. Her brow furrowed, lips pressed in concentration.
It was strange watching them from the sidelines. Normally, I'd be right there—either sparring, playing the rhythm of the drills with my magic, or offering advice between movements. But now, with Eirin's strict orders still echoing in my head, I could only sit back and observe. My hand, still faintly aching beneath the bandage, reminded me why I wasn't allowed to participate.
To keep my mind busy, I decided to revisit something else entirely—my barrier spell.
The one I used during the fight with Oko had proven strong, but too rigid. I could defend, but I couldn't strike back. That flaw had been gnawing at me ever since. I couldn't afford to be a passive wall; in real battle, hesitation could cost everything.
I'd asked Ran-san for a few insights the night before. She'd given me some theoretical guidance—ways to layer energy flow and restructure elemental resonance without compromising the barrier's integrity. It was a puzzle I wanted to solve on my own terms.
So I began to tweak the formation circles, reworking the magical geometry in my mind and adjusting the flow sigils drawn in the air before me. The faint blue glow of the barrier diagram shimmered like sunlight under water. I shifted one glyph to the left, another down by two degrees—careful, patient, and deliberate.
After several attempts, I finally felt the energy click into alignment. The pattern pulsed once, steady and sure. A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth.
With a deep breath, I lifted my hand and activated it. The runes flared bright, and a dome of translucent light expanded outward, covering the entire training room in a shimmering blue veil.
Both Youmu and Eve froze mid-practice, the blade of Hakurouken halting just before her shoulder.
"Youmu's head tilted slightly, eyes scanning the glowing edges of the barrier."
"Riku-kun," she said, her tone shifting instantly to alert readiness. "Why did you set up a barrier? Is someone attacking us?"
Eve-san, on the other hand, looked around in wonder, her voice almost childlike. "It's so beautiful… Is this the same magic Yuyuko-san mentioned before?"
I raised my hands defensively, smiling faintly. "Relax, both of you. I was just testing a new adjustment to my barrier spell. And yes, Eve-san—this is magic."
Before either could respond, I focused lightning into my right hand. Sparks crackled at my fingertips as I aimed a concentrated bolt toward the wall. The electric current danced across the surface before dispersing harmlessly through the barrier's layers.
Youmu's eyes widened. "Wait—you can attack now?"
I smirked and nodded. "Yeah. And that's not all. Go ahead, Youmu. Use a spell card on me."
Her eyebrows shot up. "What?"
I chuckled. "You heard me. Just one. I think Eve-san wants to see it too."
Eve-san's eyes lit up, curiosity overtaking her hesitation. Youmu, on the other hand, sighed in resignation before reaching into her uniform and drawing a violet-hued spell card. I immediately recognized the color, and my grandfather's old stories came rushing back.
The Hakurei had modified spell cards centuries ago, categorizing them by class and power.
White for Normal, Yellow for High, Violet for Ultra, Black for Relic, Red for Epic, and Gold for Pure. Each level carried weight—and violet, though not the highest, still demanded caution.
The air thickened as Youmu drew her blade. She slid into an iai stance, her form precise, her presence expanding until the space around her hummed with restrained energy. Dark violet light wrapped around her body, and I could feel the tension in the air spike.
"Origin Mystery: Raikiri–Hakurouken!!"
Lightning flared around her sword as she launched forward, a streak of violet and silver tearing across the room. Her movement was flawless—swift, lethal. But just as her blade neared the barrier, several spectral scarves materialized from the dome and wrapped around her arms and legs with the speed of striking serpents.
She gasped in shock, struggling briefly before the scarves pulsed with electricity. The discharge arced around her, her cry cutting through the static.
The spell ended in a flash of white light. I snapped my fingers, and the barrier dissolved instantly, the scarves disintegrating into motes of harmless energy. Youmu fell to her knees, panting, as Eve-san rushed to her side.
"Youmu-san! Are you alright?" Eve's voice trembled slightly.
Youmu waved a hand weakly, still catching her breath. "I'm fine… mostly. Though, Riku-kun… what was that?"
I rubbed the back of my neck, half guilty, half pleased. "A new defensive feature. Whenever someone charges the barrier with hostile intent, the scarves automatically bind and shock them. The more they struggle, the tighter the hold—and the stronger the current. It scales based on the opponent's intent."
Youmu groaned softly, flexing her arm. "No wonder that hurt."
"Sorry about that," I admitted with a sheepish grin. "But at least I fixed the biggest flaw. Now, I can defend and retaliate if needed."
Eve-san let out a small laugh of relief. "That was amazing, Riku-san. Dangerous, but amazing."
"Dangerous tends to follow me around," I replied, lowering my hand as the last of the barrier's energy faded from the room. "You two go on ahead. I'll finish cleaning up here."
Youmu nodded, still stretching her arm. "Understood. Come, Eve-san—your friends are probably waiting in the dining hall."
"Hai!" Eve-san helped her up, and the two of them left, the sound of their footsteps fading down the hallway until only silence remained.
When the room finally settled again, I exhaled and leaned against the wall. My reflection shimmered faintly in the window's glass—tired eyes, faint shadows beneath them. The events of last night still drifted through my mind, particularly my conversation with Ran-san.
Flashback (last night)
The moment I hung up with Eirin-san, my phone rang again. Ran-san's voice came through, calm and low as always.
She told me that the Black Fang had suddenly withdrawn from Stockholm. No sightings, no activity. Utsuho and Rin's reports confirmed the same—complete disappearance. It made no sense. For an organization as prideful as the Black Fang, a retreat this abrupt could only mean one thing: a shift in leadership or strategy.
"If they backed out like this," I'd said, pacing the room, "it'll stain their reputation. They've never abandoned an operation mid-progress before."
Ran-san agreed, her tone thoughtful. She then mentioned receiving a message from her elder sister—Yukari-san. According to her, the Four Fangs, the most dangerous among the Black Fang, had begun gathering under Brendan Reed's command.
That name alone was enough to make my stomach tighten. If Brendan was pulling the strings, then this wasn't retreat—it was preparation.
"What about Yukari-san's status?" I'd asked. "She hasn't contacted me in days."
Ran-san's voice softened. "She's watching from the other side. Close enough to see everything, but far enough to avoid notice. She believes something grim is about to unfold and wants to confirm it herself before acting."
I'd sighed at that. Classic Yukari-san—always at the edge of chaos, watching until the last possible second. "Thanks for telling me, Ran-san. Even if the Black Fang left the city, we can't let our guard down."
"Agreed," she'd said. "I'll coordinate with the Komeiji sisters about our next move. And Riku—get some rest. Your hand isn't healed yet, no matter what you pretend."
I'd laughed quietly, despite myself. "You too, Ran-san. Good night."
"Good night, Riku."
End of Flashback
The memory faded as I blinked back to the present. I turned off the last of the magic circles and began tidying the room, sweeping away faint motes of lingering energy that floated like embers in the air. The silence was comforting in a way. After everything—the injuries, the pressure, the tension—it felt good to just stand still for once.
When I was done, I headed toward the showers, letting the hot water run down my shoulders until the stiffness began to fade. My reflection in the steamed mirror looked more relaxed than before.
By the time I left the training area, dressed in casual clothes, the scent of breakfast drifted through the hallways. The chatter of the hotel's morning bustle grew louder as I approached the dining area.
Today might've started like any other morning, but deep down, I could feel the weight of change—quiet, steady, waiting to unfold. Whatever came next, I'd face it with a steadier heart.
Hakugyoku Hotel Stockholm Branch - Dining Hall
7:30 A.M.
The halls were quieter than usual that morning, filled only with the faint hum of soft chatter from the bands performing later today. When I stepped into the dining hall, the familiar sight of empty chairs where my teammates usually sat told me enough—they'd already eaten and gone off somewhere. Probably enjoying their day off before things got busy again.
Several band members noticed me as soon as I walked in. Some waved, others called my name and gestured for me to join them. I gave them a polite nod and a small smile, taking a moment to exchange greetings and wish them luck for their performances. Despite the tension that always hung around the Fes, there was an odd sense of camaraderie here—musicians from around the world sharing breakfast under the same roof before stepping back into the storm of lights and sound.
Once I made my way to the counter, I remembered what Eirin-san told me the night before—eat foods that help with bone recovery. Her voice was still echoing in my head, that calm yet no-nonsense tone that left no room for argument. So I filled my plate accordingly: grilled fish, a bit of tofu, boiled vegetables, and milk. Nothing too fancy, just what she'd recommend.
I found a quiet table near the windows, where sunlight spilled across the surface, turning the silverware into faint streaks of gold. I took a deep breath and started eating. For a while, everything was peaceful. Then—
"Gotcha!"
A sudden weight dropped onto my shoulders from behind. I didn't even flinch. By now, I'd learned that only two people in this hotel would try something that reckless this early in the morning.
I turned my head slightly, already catching the grinning faces of Orin and Okuu peeking over me like mischievous cats caught in the act.
"You two really don't know the meaning of quiet morning, do you?" I said to Okuu and Orin as I took a bite of my bread.
Okuu puffed her cheeks, mock-offended. "You were just sitting there all serious! We had to fix that!"
Orin just laughed, her tails swaying lazily behind her. "Besides, you make such an easy target when you're thinking too much, Riku-sama."
I sighed, half amused, half resigned. "At least wait until after I eat next time."
They didn't answer. Instead, they plopped down beside me, uninvited but clearly not caring. The air around the table shifted instantly—lighter, warmer. Orin started piling bacon and eggs onto her plate while Okuu went straight for the pancakes, humming something cheerful as she poured syrup like it was fuel for her reactor core.
Between bites, I asked, "Where are the others?"
Okuu swallowed her mouthful before replying. "Youmu and the rest just finished eating earlier. You barely missed them."
"Figures," I muttered, taking another spoonful of rice. "And Satori-san?"
Orin stifled a small yawn before answering. "Satori-sama's still asleep. She's been solving cases nonstop for three days, so we didn't have the heart to wake her."
That sounded about right. Satori's work ethic could rival anyone's, but she often forgot that even a mind-reader needed rest. I made a note to check in on her later, maybe bring some tea.
We talked for a few minutes more, mostly idle chatter about today's schedule and the bands performing next. The kind of small talk that helped time slow down a little.
When I finally finished eating, I pushed the tray aside and leaned back, letting out a quiet sigh. My hand still ached faintly under the bandage, but not as sharply as before. Maybe Eirin-san was right—resting it for the day wouldn't be such a bad idea.
I stood up, thanked Orin and Okuu for the company, and left them to their breakfast chaos. As I stepped out of the dining hall, the morning sunlight greeted me once again, warm and gentle through the hotel's tall windows.
For the first time in days, there was no rush—no stage lights, no pressure, no noise. Just a rare, quiet morning in Stockholm.
And for now… that was enough.
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Hakugyoku Hotel Stockholm Branch – OG's Room
May 18, 2021, Tuesday, 9:00 A.M.
3rd POV
Riku returned to his room after breakfast, still mulling over the band's match against Thunder Awaken. The air inside was calm, filled only with the soft rustle of Johan's papers spread across the desk. The two had spent most of the morning finalizing their strategy.
Johan leaned back on the couch, tapping a pen against the setlist. "This lineup should work," he said, his voice steady but his eyes sharp.
Riku stood nearby, arms folded. "We were supposed to save this setup for the finals," he replied quietly, "but the situation changed. We'll have to use it early."
Johan nodded, flipping through the sheets again. "And the songs? I've looked through them, but I've got to say… sometimes I can't tell what's going through your head when you write these. Are you sure you want to use this material tomorrow?"
Riku's expression didn't waver. "I'm sure. And for the record, I didn't write those songs."
Johan froze mid-page turn. "Wait—you didn't?"
Riku shook his head once, looking away. Something unreadable passed over his face—an old memory he didn't want to revisit. Johan caught the shift and, wisely, didn't press.
"Alright," Johan said after a pause. "Whoever wrote them, they'll catch Thunder Awaken off guard."
"That's the idea." Riku's voice steadied again. "We'll do a warm-up later, get familiar with the rhythm and transitions. For now—"
A firm knock knock cut him off.
Both turned toward the door. It swung open a moment later, revealing Allen, their manager, holding a clipboard under one arm. "Ah, Riku—good. Someone's looking for you."
Riku frowned. "Who is it?"
Before Allen could answer, a girl stepped into view—a tall figure with long, bright violet hair that shimmered under the lights, red eyes that carried quiet authority, and a black business suit paired with a beige skirt and red shoes. The crescent-shaped insignia pinned to her lapel gleamed faintly, but it was the pair of rabbit ears atop her head that made Johan blink in surprise.
Riku's eyes softened. "Udongein," he said, recognizing her instantly. "So you've come. I take it Eirin-san's here as well?"
Inaba Udongein Reisen—I call her Udongein as there is another rabbit that shares her name—smiled faintly and bowed. "Good to see you again, Riku. Yes, sensei's here, though…" She hesitated.
Riku raised a brow. "Though what?"
"The client she's meeting is a little… difficult. She'll be late, so she sent me ahead with these."
She reached into her bag and produced six small white bottles, neatly arranged in a wooden box. She set them on the table with practiced care.
Riku eyed them suspiciously. "What exactly is this?"
"Medicine," Udongein replied, her tone professional. "Sensei made it specifically for your condition. You're to drink one dose after breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She says you'll make a full recovery in two days."
Johan nearly choked on his breath. "Two days? You're telling me this can fix a hand injury that fast?"
"Correct," Udongein said, folding her hands. "Sensei developed it just last month. You could call it… experimental, but safe."
That last word didn't help Riku's nerves. He stared at the bottle, then at her. "Are you absolutely sure it's safe?"
Udongein smiled wryly. "Sensei tested it herself. Trust me—it works. If you're still nervous, just drink it all in one go. That way it'll be over before you start thinking."
Johan passed him a glass. "Might as well, man."
Riku sighed. The liquid poured clear as water but shimmered faintly under the light, like something alive. He hesitated, then took a deep breath and downed it in a single gulp.
A faint chill spread through his throat, then warmth radiated through his injured arm. It wasn't unpleasant—just strange. He set the glass down, exhaling slowly.
Udongein nodded, satisfied. "Good. Repeat that after lunch. And remember—no instruments, no strain, and definitely no trying to 'test your limits.'"
Riku gave a small nod, almost sheepish. Johan promised they'd keep watch over him, and that seemed to reassure her. With a polite bow, Udongein excused herself and left the room.
A few quiet minutes passed before another knock rattled the door—louder, sharper this time.
Riku frowned. "Twice in one morning?"
He opened the door—and froze. Standing there was Remilia Scarlet, elegant as ever but visibly annoyed. Beside her, Flandre grinned like she'd been caught sneaking candy, several small knives sticking out of her hat and hair. Behind them stood Sakuya, perfectly composed despite the cardboard sign dangling from her neck that read, I won't do it again.
And sprawled on the floor just behind them… was Hong Meiling. Unconscious. Covered in knives.
"...What the hell," Johan muttered under his breath.
Allen took one look and blanched, fumbling for his phone. "I'm calling an ambulance—"
"Wait," Riku stopped him, raising a hand. "Don't. I've got this."
He turned to Remilia, who looked far too calm for someone standing over a stabbed body. "Remi… what happened to Meiling?"
Remilia crossed her arms, glancing around the hallway. "Let's discuss it inside. People might get the wrong idea."
That was fair enough. Riku helped bring Meiling's limp form into the room, carefully laying her down on the couch while the rest of the Scarlet Devil Mansion entourage followed. Allen muttered something about needing to check the stage logistics and bolted. Johan, meanwhile, got a message from SirActionSlacks asking for a quick interview and left reluctantly.
That left Riku alone with four vampires, one unconscious gatekeeper, and a very bad feeling.
He sighed. "Alright. Explain."
Remilia exhaled softly, as if embarrassed. "Meiling said the P-word."
"The P-word?" Riku echoed—and then realization hit. He closed his eyes. "Oh no."
Sakuya shifted her weight but didn't look up. Flandre whistled innocently.
The "P-word" was practically taboo around Sakuya. Saying it was like lighting a fuse. Evidently, Meiling had done exactly that—and paid the price.
Riku rubbed his temple. "So Sakuya snapped and threw knives at her."
"Knives, plural," Flandre said cheerfully. "Lots of them."
Remilia sighed. "Yes, and unfortunately, we were standing nearby."
Riku looked from Remilia to Flandre—both with knives sticking from their heads—and then to Sakuya, whose expression hadn't changed at all. "And you came here because you want me to take them out."
"Not just for Meiling," Remilia said, gesturing to herself and her sister. "For us too. You're more… delicate with these things. Sakuya can be a bit forceful."
That was one way to put it.
Before Riku could respond, Meiling stirred on the couch, groaning faintly. Her eyes fluttered open. "Oujo-sama? Riku-sama? Where… am I?"
"You're in my room," Riku said gently. "Remilia-san asked me to help remove the knives."
Understanding dawned on her tired face. "I… see. Then I'll leave it to you, Riku-sama."
He nodded, moving to prepare the small first-aid kit he always kept in the drawer—though it was hardly equipped for vampire durability. Still, it would do.
"Let's start with Remi and Flan," he said finally, rolling up his sleeves. "They're the easier ones to handle."
Flandre grinned. "Heh, be gentle, onii-san~."
"Don't tempt me," he muttered dryly, reaching for the first knife lodged near her temple.
Hakugyoku Hotel Stockholm Branch – Hallway outside OG's Room
10:00 A.M.
Rinko's POV
Normally, the plan was for Roselia to head straight to the arena to watch the other bands perform. But instead of joining them, I found myself walking down the quiet corridor of the Hakugyoku Hotel, clutching my phone nervously. The reason for that decision was simple—Youmu-san's request earlier that morning.
The memory replayed vividly in my mind.
Flashback (While Riku was cleaning up the training room)
"You want someone to keep an eye on Riku-san?" Hikawa-san asked, looking up from tuning her guitar.
Youmu nodded, her expression calm yet concerned. "Hai. Even if Riku-kun is capable of handling things on his own, there are times he might not follow our advice. Especially now that his injury still hasn't healed."
"Injury?" I repeated, my eyes widening. "When did Riku get injured?"
We all exchanged surprised looks. None of us had noticed anything wrong with him. After all, on stage, Riku always carried himself with flawless confidence—his hands moving with impossible precision, as if pain didn't exist.
Youmu sighed softly, lowering her sword from her shoulder. "Yuyuko-sama told me that he injured his hand badly last year. Eirin-sensei warned him it would take a year to fully recover—as long as he didn't strain it too much. But with how things have been going…"
Chisato-san folded her arms, frowning. "The kind of songs his band's been performing lately… that must put insane strain on his hand."
"Exactly," Yamato-san murmured, concern flashing in her eyes. "Yet he still plays at that level. Even for someone like Riku-san, there must be a limit to how much pain he can bear."
Youmu nodded gravely. "That's why I'm asking for your help. Can one of you keep an eye on him for me? Just for today."
Ichigaya-san tilted her head. "Why can't you do it yourself?"
"Well…" Youmu trailed off. Before she could answer, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen—and sighed. "Ah… Yuyuko-sama."
She answered the call, and we all heard Yuyuko's voice loud and clear through the speaker.
"Youmu!! There's no more food in the fridge!!! I'm hungry!!!"
Youmu's shoulders slumped. "As you can see, with Yuyuko-sama calling me most of the time, my hands are… occupied."
The room fell silent. No one wanted to miss the performances at the arena, but at the same time, we couldn't ignore what she'd said. Riku had always pushed himself too hard for others—sometimes to the point of recklessness.
Before I could stop myself, I stood from my seat. "I'll do it," I said firmly. "I'll stay behind to keep an eye on Riku."
Everyone turned to me, surprised by my sudden decision. But when they saw how serious I was, they didn't argue.
Youmu smiled faintly. "Very well. Then it's decided—Rinko-san will remain here with Riku-kun, and everyone else will head to the arena."
"Are you sure about this, Shirokane-san?" Sayo asked gently.
I nodded. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. Besides… I'm with Riku. I won't be bored."
Imai-san grinned knowingly. "If you say so. But we'll keep you updated, okay? Maybe Riku might want to hear some news later."
"Thank you, I'd appreciate that," I replied. Then I looked toward Ako-chan. "And Ako-chan, don't cause any trouble, alright?"
"Don't treat me like a kid, Rin-Rin! I'm a grown-up now!" Ako-chan puffed her cheeks, making everyone giggle.
Yukina-san stood and straightened her jacket. "Then it's settled. Let's head out. We'll see you later, Rinko."
As the others began to leave, Chisato-san lingered behind. She leaned closer to my ear, whispering so only I could hear.
"This is your chance, Rinko-chan," she murmured, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "You won't get another opportunity like this."
Her words made my heart skip. I wanted to deny it—but she wasn't wrong.
"I-I know…" I stammered softly, cheeks burning.
And with that, she patted my shoulder and followed the others out the door.
End of Flashback
Now, standing before Riku's door, I took a deep breath. The hallway was quiet—too quiet. But from inside the room, I could faintly hear… voices.
At first, I thought I was mistaken. But then—
"Mmmmh… ah… ha… mmm… ahn… wait a second, Riku-sama… let's just stop here…"
My entire body froze. Wait. What?
Then came Riku's voice, calm and focused. "We can't stop midway, Meiling-san. I can still keep going."
I blinked, my face turning crimson. "Wha—?! What are they doing in there!?"
Curiosity—or maybe panic—got the better of me. I leaned closer to the door, pressing my ear gently against the wood. My heart was hammering.
"W-wait—ah! I… I can feel… you touching it…" The woman named Meiling's voice trembled, half gasps, half words.
"It'll be over soon, Meiling-san. Just let me do the rest," Riku replied, his tone strangely patient.
I covered my mouth, trying not to make a sound. My imagination was running wild, painting scenes I really shouldn't be thinking about.
"Ah! At least… be gentle with it…"
"We've done this several times," Riku said matter-of-factly. "You should be used to this already."
My face was burning so hot I thought I might faint right there in the hallway.
"But still—AHHHH!! PULL IT OUT QUICKLY!!"
"Almost there…"
"PLEASE!!! I BEG YOU!!! AHHHHHH!!!"
"This is the last one… I got it out!!"
That was it. My brain couldn't handle it anymore. I stumbled back from the door, dizzy from what I had just heard.
Nope. Nope. Nope. I'm not hearing this.
Before I could make sense of anything, my vision started spinning. My mind went blank—then darkness overtook me.
THUD!
I hit the floor, completely unconscious.
Riku's POV
The moment I pulled out the last knife lodged in Meiling-san's head, a sudden thud echoed from outside the door. I froze, setting the blood-stained cloth aside. "Sakuya-san, finish patching Meiling up and clean the mess, please. I'll check what that was."
Sakuya nodded calmly, already conjuring a silver tray filled with bandages and antiseptic. "Understood, Riku-sama."
I walked toward the door, wondering if someone had accidentally tripped—or worse, overheard the entire situation. When I opened it, I found Rinko sprawled on the carpet, face completely flushed and motionless except for the faint rise and fall of her chest.
I sighed. "Of course. It had to be Rinko."
Given her expression, there was no doubt in my mind that she'd heard… that part of the conversation. The part that could easily be taken the wrong way if you didn't see what was happening.
Shaking my head, I crouched down and carefully lifted her into my arms. Her skin was warm—too warm, probably from the embarrassment that knocked her out cold. As I carried her inside, Remilia and the others turned to look.
Flan was the first to speak, tilting her head. "Onii-san, why are you carrying her? Is she okay?"
"She's fine, Flan," I reassured her gently. "She just fainted. Come on, help me get her to one of the beds."
Flan nodded quickly and followed as I carried Rinko into my room. I laid her down on the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. She looked peaceful, but the faint redness on her cheeks hadn't faded.
While waiting for her to wake, I sat down at my desk. My phone buzzed with a new message from Johan.
Johan:These are the results of the bets yesterday. Yo, your predictions really hit the mark!
OG 2–0 Team Spirit → +$50,000
BetBoom 0–2 Thunder Awaken → +$65,000
Tundra 2–0 TSM → +$30,000
T1 1–2 Fnatic → +$30,000
Total Winnings: $175,000
I leaned back, rubbing my temples. "I still can't believe they actually won that much off a few guesses…"
Earlier that morning, they'd asked me for more predictions. I scribbled down a few outcomes on paper—nothing more than gut feelings—but now that Johan mentioned it, those "gut feelings" were starting to cost a lot of money.
Team Spirit 0–2 beastcoast
BetBoom 2–1 Team Liquid
BOOM Rivalry 0–2 TSM
A moment later, another message popped up.
Johan:By the way, we put $75k on each prediction. That's $225,000 total.
I nearly fell off my chair. "They what?!"
I clutched my phone, my jaw tightening. I wanted to yell—but Rinko was still asleep, and the last thing I needed was to wake her. I took a long breath through my nose, exhaled slowly, and reminded myself that I'd get 25% of whatever they earned anyway. That money could go straight to the side project I'd been developing.
Still, I couldn't help thinking: If they keep this up, OG might become a casino instead of a band.
10:45 A.M.
A soft groan broke my train of thought. I turned, seeing Rinko slowly stir awake, her eyes fluttering open.
"...Where am I?" she asked groggily, blinking several times.
"You're in my room," I answered, smiling faintly.
Her head snapped toward me, eyes wide as she realized where she was. I could almost see the panic build in her expression.
"I found you unconscious outside," I explained. "You probably fainted. What happened?"
She fidgeted, avoiding my gaze. "Well… I heard some… moaning from the other side of the door…"
Ah. There it is.
"Oh, that." I scratched the back of my neck, trying not to laugh. "If it's what you're thinking—it's not that. I was taking out knives."
She blinked. "Knives?"
"Yep. Here, come with me. It's easier if I show you."
Rinko hesitated for a moment before sitting up. She followed me into the living area—and the instant she stepped in, her jaw dropped.
Remi and Flan sat calmly on the sofa, sipping tea, while Meiling-san was perched nearby—covered from head to toe in bandages. Even Sakuya-san stood in the corner, her head slightly bowed, a sign reading "I won't do it again" hanging around her neck.
Rinko froze. "What… what happened to them?"
"Trust me," I said, rubbing my temple, "you don't want to know. Let's just say… this is normal for the Scarlet Family."
Remi chuckled lightly, swirling her tea. "A normal Tuesday, you might say. Nothing to worry about. But more importantly…" She turned her crimson gaze toward Rinko. "How are you feeling?"
Rinko blinked, startled by the question. "I—I'm doing okay. Thank you for the concern, Remilia-san. Um…"
Her voice trailed off as her eyes landed on Meiling-san, who offered a warm, reassuring smile.
"Oh right," Meiling-san said suddenly. "I'm the only one who hasn't introduced myself, right? You already know Oujo-sama, Imouto-sama, and Sakuya-san. I'm Hong Meiling—head of the Scarlet Family Security Force and Riku-sama's combat instructor. Pleasure to meet you, Rinko-sama."
Rinko's face immediately flushed again. "E-Eh!? Sama!? You can just call me Rinko! Calling me that feels… a little awkward."
Meiling-san chuckled softly. "Very well, Rinko."
Remi smirked behind her teacup. "How polite," she murmured.
I folded my arms, turning back to Rinko. "So, now that that's cleared up—mind telling me why you're here? And where's the rest of your band?"
Rinko hesitated, twiddling her thumbs. "Well… I chose to stay behind."
"Stay behind?" I raised an eyebrow.
She nodded, her voice soft but sincere. "To keep an eye on you."
"Keep an eye on me?" I repeated, arching a brow in amusement.
"Yes," she admitted quickly, cheeks turning pink. "Youmu-san asked us earlier if one of us could stay by your side because she was worried about your hand. But… Yuyuko-san called her, so she couldn't come. That's why I offered."
I paused, then let out a faint chuckle. "So she sent a watcher, huh? Sounds like something she'd do."
Rinko pouted slightly. "Don't call it that! I'm just making sure you don't overwork yourself."
Remi, who had been quietly observing, suddenly stood and clapped her hands together. "Well, well. That settles that, doesn't it?" She smiled slyly. "Flan, Sakuya, Meiling—we've gotten what we came for. Let's leave Riku-boy to his… company."
Her tone was teasing, laced with mischief. Sakuya-san and Meiling-san exchanged a glance but simply bowed in understanding.
Flan, however, pouted. "But I wanted to stay longer!"
"You can visit again later," Remilia said with a wink.
Before leaving, Flan ran over and hugged me tightly. "Get some rest, onii-san! And when can we practice my drumming again?"
"Once we're back in Japan," I replied, patting her head. "Just tell me ahead of time, okay?"
"Okay! Promise!" she said brightly.
And just like that, the Koumakan girls left, the door closing behind them with a soft click—leaving only me and Rinko in the quiet room.
For a few moments, neither of us said anything. The silence was thick, almost awkward, until Rinko spoke up timidly. "They're… quite the group, aren't they?"
"That's one way to put it," I said, letting out a short laugh. "You get used to it after a while."
Rinko smiled faintly, her expression softening as she glanced around. "Still… I'm glad you're okay. When Youmu-san told us about your hand, I got worried."
I blinked, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. "Worried, huh?"
"Well, yeah," she said, fidgeting again. "You always act like everything's fine. But… I know how much effort you put into everything. You should rest more often, Riku."
Her words lingered in the air—gentle, yet filled with genuine care. I didn't know what to say for a moment.
The room had fallen into a rare and almost uncomfortable silence. For a long moment, neither Riku nor Rinko spoke; only the faint hum of the air conditioner filled the stillness between them. Eventually, Riku broke the quiet, his voice calm but uncertain, as if unsure how to navigate this newfound pause in their hectic days.
"It looks like it's just the two of us now," he said.
Rinko nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to the polished floor. "Yes… it seems so."
The silence lingered again. It wasn't awkward, but rather, fragile—like the calm that follows a storm. After a long moment, she finally looked up. "So… what do you want to do now, Riku?"
Riku leaned back slightly in his chair, letting out a quiet breath. "Honestly? I don't know. I haven't had this much free time since the group stage began. It feels… strange. I still get some rest when I can, so don't worry too much."
Her expression softened, but she didn't respond. Instead, her fingers fidgeted against her skirt as if weighing something heavy on her chest. Riku noticed, his voice gentle. "Rinko, I'm fine, really. You don't need to—"
"You're not fine!"
The sudden outburst startled him. Her voice cracked the still air like lightning, echoing through the room before settling into a trembling silence. Riku blinked, taken aback. He had never seen Rinko raise her voice before—never seen her face flush with such fierce emotion. She grabbed the front of his shirt, her hands trembling, eyes glistening.
"You need to rest, Riku! You're pushing yourself too hard!" Her voice wavered between anger and desperation. "Do you have any idea how much we worry about you? How much I worry?"
Riku's breath caught. "Rinko… how did you—?"
"Yuyuko-san told us everything," she said, voice lowering to a near whisper. "After your performance yesterday… she told us that you've been doing most of everything since you came back to your band. I know you want OG to win, but if you keep going like this, you'll collapse. And if that happens… your band might have to forfeit. You'll lose everything you've worked for…"
Her voice broke, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "And I don't want that. None of us do."
Riku looked down, unable to meet her gaze. The weight of her words pressed down on him more heavily than he expected. She was right. He had pushed himself beyond his limits—again and again—chasing perfection, chasing victory. But when he finally looked up, the sight that greeted him cut deeper than any wound: Rinko's eyes glistening with quiet pain, trembling as she fought to keep herself together.
"I already lost someone I considered a sister years ago," she said softly, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "I don't want to lose another person who means so much to me. If I lose you too, Riku… I don't know if my heart could take it."
Her words struck him like a wave, raw and genuine. She looked small before him, fragile yet fiercely sincere. And before he could even think, Riku moved—his hand reaching out, pulling her close into his arms.
Rinko gasped, her breath hitching against his chest. "R-Riku…?"
"Rinko," he murmured softly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "You're right. I've been reckless. I didn't mean to make you worry." His tone softened further, almost apologetic. "I'm sorry for that. Please… stop crying."
But she didn't—at least, not immediately. She trembled quietly in his embrace, her fingers clinging weakly to his shirt. The tension in her shoulders slowly eased as she let her emotions flow freely. Riku could feel her heartbeat racing against his chest, fragile yet alive, and he found himself tightening his hold just a little more, as if assuring her that he wasn't going anywhere.
When her sobs finally began to fade, she pulled away slightly, cheeks flushed and eyes red. "I… I'm sorry. My tears probably ruined your shirt."
Riku gave a faint smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Don't worry about that. It's just a shirt. You, on the other hand—"
Before he could finish, his phone suddenly buzzed. The moment shattered the quiet warmth between them, pulling Riku back to reality. He sighed, checking the screen. It was a message from Johan.
"What happened?" Rinko asked, tilting her head.
Riku froze as he read the message, eyes widening. "They lost… Team Spirit lost."
"What?" Rinko blinked, confused.
Riku turned his screen toward her, showing the photo Johan had sent: beastcoast celebrating their shocking 2–0 victory over Team Spirit. Rinko's mouth fell open.
"How did that even happen?" she asked.
"I don't know…" Riku groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Goddamnit… I shouldn't have made those predictions earlier. Now I've jinxed everyone—ah, crap."
He stopped mid-sentence. A sudden chill filled the air, the kind that spelled imminent doom. Slowly, he turned toward Rinko, who was now radiating a dark, ominous aura.
"Riku," she said sweetly, though her tone sent shivers down his spine. "Are you… gambling?"
He froze, his mind screaming internally. "Yes?"
She smiled—a dangerous, tight-lipped smile. "And you're admitting it openly. You do know gambling is wrong, don't you?"
"It's not like that!" he protested, holding up his hands defensively. "The band's the one doing the gambling, not me!"
Rinko's eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. "Then what did you mean when you said you 'jinxed them'?"
"Well…" Riku rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly regretting everything. "I might've… predicted the results. And they… sort of bet based on that."
Her expression went flat, followed by a soft, tired sigh. "Of course you did."
He chuckled nervously. "I mean, you can't really blame them. My predictions are kind of freakishly accurate."
Rinko crossed her arms but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "You and your impossible luck…"
He grinned. "You remember Neo Fantasy Online, right? When you introduced it to me?"
"How could I forget?" she replied, rolling her eyes. "That game almost ate my entire weekend."
"Yeah, well," Riku said, smirking, "you also remember that time you told me you wanted that limited-edition UR staff?"
Rinko blinked, then realized where this was going. "Don't remind me."
"You didn't believe me when I said you'd pull it on your first ten-roll," he teased, leaning slightly closer. "And then—bam—first roll, UR staff. I rest my case."
Her cheeks reddened, partly from embarrassment and partly from the memory. "That was pure coincidence!"
"Sure it was," he said with mock seriousness. "Just like how I called your crit roll in that boss raid, or the time I said you'd find a rare drop in the dungeon before we even entered."
She couldn't help it—she laughed. The tension that once hung heavy between them melted away into a gentle, comforting warmth. For the first time in what felt like ages, Rinko's laughter filled the room again, soft and musical.
Riku smiled quietly, watching her shoulders shake with amusement. In that moment, her usual timid composure faded, replaced by the genuine brightness he always admired. He didn't say it aloud, but deep down, he was grateful—for her concern, her stubbornness, and even her scolding.
Flashback
The two of them were deep in a raid that night in Neo Fantasy Online, surrounded by chaos and flashing spell effects. Their party had been making good progress, and one of their teammates was on a roll. Out of sheer confidence — or maybe boredom — Riku leaned into his mic and said in that smooth, knowing tone of his:
"Go there and you'll get two kills. One… and two. See? Simple as that."
The player laughed at the absurdity — right up until the moment he actually pulled off two kills in perfect sync with Riku's count. The entire voice chat erupted.
Player 1:Yo! How the hell did you predict that!?
Riku:I'm just a prediction master… though if I were you, I wouldn't start celebrating yet.
Rinko's voice came through the headset, both cautious and amused. "Riku… what are you planning?"
He chuckled. "Just watch. He's about to get flanked from behind and die in one hit."
And, almost on cue, their teammate's character was ambushed and stabbed through the back. The party exploded into laughter, Rinko included, though she tried to sound scolding through her laughter.
"Okay, that's enough! No more predictions for you, Riku," she said, voice trembling between annoyance and amusement.
Riku could practically hear her smiling through her words.
End of Flashback
11:45 A.M.
When the memory faded and Riku finished explaining the whole gambling situation — and his uncanny streak of correct predictions — Rinko just sighed deeply, her expression somewhere between disbelief and resignation.
"So that explains everything," she said finally, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Starting tomorrow, you're not allowed to predict anything. Understood?"
Riku snapped to attention, mock-serious. "Yes, ma'am…"
Her frown softened slightly, though her cheeks puffed just a bit — an adorable tell that she was still annoyed. Riku chuckled quietly. It's rare to see her angry, he thought. She's kind of scary when she is… but still cute regardless.
Wanting to ease the mood, he stood and stretched. "So," he began casually, "how about we grab lunch together? My treat."
Rinko blinked in surprise, then noticed the clock on the wall — just fifteen minutes before noon. She gave him a small, genuine smile. "Sure. I'd love that."
"Great," he said, grinning. "Just wait for me a minute, I'll go change my shirt. This one's still… uh, battle-worn from earlier."
Rinko giggled lightly. "Alright. I'll wait here."
Riku nodded and slipped back into his room. As he was changing, his phone began to ring. Seeing the name flash on the screen, he quickly answered. "Good afternoon, grandfather — or should I say good evening? It's rare for you to call me out of the blue."
Kyoya's calm, deep voice came through the line. "Indeed, it is rare for me to call. But let's skip the pleasantries. I heard everything from Yuyuko."
Riku let out a quiet breath. "I figured as much. Youmu told me about it yesterday. I assume my workload will be reduced when I get back?"
"Correct," Kyoya replied. "Your responsibilities will be cut by roughly a quarter and a half. You still have school and your duties as the owner of CiRCLE. It's only practical."
"Understood," Riku said, adjusting his collar. "I'll follow through as ordered. How are things there while I've been away?"
"Nothing of major concern," Kyoya said. "The other Sages received your message and have already begun making necessary precautions across the country." There was a pause — the kind that always meant something else was coming. "However… there is one thing I want to tell you. But…"
Riku frowned slightly. "But?"
Kyoya's tone shifted, quieter, more deliberate. "I'll only tell you once you win the Future World Fes. Don't worry — I intend to keep that promise."
Riku smiled faintly. "Alright then. I'll hold you to that." He glanced at the door, where he imagined Rinko still waiting patiently outside. "I should go. I don't want to keep Rinko waiting."
A low chuckle came from the other end. "Oh~? So you've finally made your move?"
Riku nearly choked on air. "It's not like that, grandfather! I just asked her to lunch, that's all!"
"Right…" Kyoya replied in that knowing tone that made Riku grit his teeth. "Well, I won't pry further. I have another matter to attend to. Good luck, Riku."
"Thanks, grandfather," Riku said with a soft sigh. "Talk to you soon."
He ended the call and exhaled, shaking his head. "Even across an ocean, he still finds a way to tease me," he muttered.
When he stepped out, Rinko was waiting by the door, hands clasped in front of her. She turned as soon as she heard him, smiling gently. "You took longer than I expected, Riku. Did something happen?"
Riku rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, grandfather called. Said I'll be cutting my workload once I get back to Japan. He also mentioned something else, but…" He shrugged. "Apparently, he'll only tell me once I win the Future World Fes."
Rinko giggled softly. "That sounds exactly like him."
"Yeah, it does." He smiled at her, then gestured toward the hall. "Well then, let's not keep the dining hall waiting. Shall we?"
Without realizing it, he reached out and gently took her hand — not too firmly, just enough that she felt the warmth of his touch. Rinko's breath caught, her cheeks coloring slightly, but she didn't pull away. Instead, her fingers tightened around his, matching his rhythm as they walked together down the corridor.
The quiet of the hallways was interrupted only by the faint echoes of footsteps and the distant hum of conversations from other guests. The golden lights above gave everything a soft glow, and for a fleeting moment, it almost felt like time had slowed down — just for them.
Rinko glanced sideways at him, a gentle smile curving her lips. "You know," she said softly, "it's… nice. Walking like this with you."
Riku turned his head slightly, amused. "You sound surprised."
"I'm not," she replied quickly, her face warming even more. "It's just… rare. You're always so busy, either composing, performing, or planning something. It feels like this is the first time you've slowed down since we arrived in Stockholm."
He chuckled. "Yeah… I guess I needed someone to remind me to stop once in a while."
"Then I'll keep reminding you," she said, looking up at him with quiet determination. "As many times as it takes."
Her words lingered in his chest like an echo. For once, he didn't try to deflect them with humor or tease her back. He just nodded, squeezing her hand slightly in silent gratitude.
"Thank you, Rinko," he said simply.
They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence, the kind that felt warm rather than empty. For Riku, this small moment — just holding her hand and walking side by side — felt like a rare luxury amid the chaos of his life. And though neither of them said it out loud, both silently hoped that this simple, quiet peace would last just a little longer.