The black-haired girl with a ponytail—Shiho—nodded slightly.
"Mm… this should be enough. It's just a minor sprain, really. I already have most of this stuff at home. We didn't have to rush here to buy more…"
"What are you talking about!?"
The blonde girl beside her—an eye-catching beauty with mixed-race features—snapped to attention. Her voice carried an unshakable energy, the kind that turned every head in the store.
"Your wrist is totally swollen! And that jerk Kamoshida still wants you to keep training? That's abuse! I mean seriously, why hasn't anyone in the volleyball club spoken up? Are all the teachers and parents blind!?"
"Shhh! Ann, your voice is too loud!"
Shiho quickly covered her friend's mouth, mortified.
Ryo hadn't planned to eavesdrop—but they were the ones shouting, and old habits die hard.
His past life as a Phantom Thief kicked in instinctively, his brain already piecing together clues.
So… the blonde beauty's name was Ann, and with her model-tier looks and confident presence, it wasn't hard to imagine her on a magazine cover.
Her friend, Shiho, wasn't quite as striking, but her tall, athletic build and long limbs gave her a quiet elegance that stood out just as much.
Judging by their conversation, Shiho was a student in her school's volleyball club.
If she was still training during spring break, she had to be one of the top players.
She'd been holding her wrist since she entered the store—probably injured during practice.
And the name they mentioned—Kamoshida—that must be their coach. From the sound of it, he had a reputation for being severely abusive.
Wait… that name—
Ryo froze, recalling the post he'd read that very morning on the Phantom Thief Request Channel:
"My friend's being harassed by her coach. He's been using corporal punishment for months, and I'm scared something worse will happen when the new semester starts."
The timing matched. The description matched.
And if that's true… this "Kamoshida" was exactly the kind of scumbag Ryo used to go after.
The kind of person whose corrupted heart was just begging to be stolen.
But to reform someone's heart, he'd need concrete details—names, relationships, emotional triggers—not just an anonymous post on a message board.
No. Stop it.
Ryo shook his head sharply.
I'm retired. I'm not doing this again.
He forced the old instincts out of his mind—the same instincts that used to drive him to chase trails, investigate victims, and infiltrate hearts.
Not this time. Not anymore.
"Momoka, cover the register for a bit."
He called out to his roommate, who was organizing stock in the back, then adjusted his mask and walked toward the two girls.
They tensed immediately, clearly expecting to be scolded for making noise.
But Ryo just waved a hand lightly.
"It's fine—you're not bothering anyone. …But you, miss—your wrist looks pretty bad. Mind if I take a look?"
Shiho hesitated, instinctively cradling her hand against her chest.
At around 170 centimeters tall, she was tall for her age and had a mature presence, yet her demeanor was timid and uncertain.
Her eyes darted toward her blonde friend, seeking permission.
Ann nodded right away.
"Yes, please! She fell during volleyball practice and hurt her wrist, but she just kept quiet about it! Now it's all swollen! I told her she needed to stop!"
"Ann… seriously, I'm fine…" Shiho mumbled, flustered. "If I admit I got hurt, Kamoshida-sensei will just yell at me again—for being careless…"
Her voice trailed off, and the light faded from her expression.
Ryo frowned slightly.
That wasn't just discipline—that was fear.
If she couldn't even admit she was injured, this wasn't coaching anymore. It was control. Psychological abuse.
He didn't comment on it directly. Instead, he gently reached for her wrist.
"May I?"
Shiho hesitated, then nodded faintly.
The skin was red and hot to the touch. When Ryo pressed lightly with his fingers—
"Ah…!"
She flinched, her brows tightening, though she tried to smile it off.
Ryo's eyes narrowed.
That wasn't a simple sprain.
It was the kind of pain that came with a fracture.
The former thief's intuition whispered the truth to him: the girl wasn't just hurt—she was breaking down, inside and out.
And her friend knew it too.
Ann's eyes were blazing with worry and frustration, as if begging Ryo to do something.
He sighed softly and straightened.
"I'm not a doctor, but it looks worse than you think. It might be a hairline fracture. You should get it checked properly—rest for at least a month. If you don't, forget training; even daily activities could become painful."
"Ehh!?"
Both girls gasped at once.
Before they could panic further, Ryo's calm, professional voice flowed on.
"You're Shujin High students, right? There's actually a private clinic near here—run by a really skilled female doctor. She's offering free check-ups for students right now. It's just two stops away in Yongen-Jaya."
He took a gauze sling from a nearby shelf.
"For now, don't move that wrist. Let me wrap it up."
He carefully tied the sling, adjusting it so her arm rested at a comfortable angle. The faint scent of sweat and deodorant rose from her—clean, honest, athletic.
Ann nodded rapidly, like a guardian finally seeing hope.
"Thank you so much! You're amazing! Can we add each other on Line? Just send me the clinic address—I'll take her there right away!"
Ryo smiled faintly beneath his mask.
"Sure."
They exchanged contacts, and he sent her the clinic name and address.
As the two girls hurried out, Ann holding Shiho protectively by the shoulder, Ryo watched them go—expression unreadable.
He stood there for a long moment before pulling out his phone again and typing a quick message.
A familiar tension had returned to his chest.
Behind the counter, Momoka—who had witnessed the entire exchange—snorted softly.
"Well, well, Ryo… Didn't think you had it in you to flirt with high-school girls. Got a thing for cute trouble cases now, huh? (?ω?)"
Ryo didn't answer.
He just looked down at his phone screen, where a single unread notification blinked faintly:
[New Request Received: "Save My Friend."]