Sakura Airi was very afraid.
Not long after arriving at this school, she had discovered, ti and ti again, that soone was tailing her. The sound of a cara shutter would ring out from sowhere unknown. ssages like "I've been watching you all along" would appear on her blog from ti to ti.
She knew. Her identity had likely been discovered.
Gravure idol — Shizuku.
This was her identity online. In the world of the internet, she could take off her glasses, straighten her shoulders, and without needing to fear the malicious gazes of those around her, openly and proudly reveal her truest self.
However, all of that had now been shattered. The sound of shoes striking the ground clung tightly to her back. Photos of her everyday life appeared in her mailbox from ti to ti. Flashbulbs suddenly burst forth from the darkness.
Everything, everything about it made her afraid.
But she didn't dare report this matter to the school, because that would an even more people would learn of her identity as Shizuku-chan.
She, who normally wore glasses, styled her hair in a plain, ordinary way, hunched her back, and dressed in a frumpy, unfashionable manner, would then have to endure wave after wave of malicious gazes in the real world.
Today, she had co to Keyaki Mall as usual to browse for cara accessories. In the past, she could only look and then reluctantly leave. But a few days ago, Horikita-san had fully repaid the points she had lent out back then. So now, she finally had a bit of spare money to consider buying them.
Regrettably, she, who was extrely sensitive to the gazes of others, once again felt that bone-chilling, nauseating stare.
Without ti to think further, she could only, like a startled rabbit, abruptly shrink her neck, lower her head, and quickly flee from this place.
As long as... as long as she, just like always, returned to her dorm room, wrapped herself tightly in her blanket, all her fears would disappear.
As for when such days would finally co to an end... even she herself didn't know.
Thinking this way, Sakura buried her head low. Her shoulders subconsciously hunched inward, almost as if they were about to collapse into her body. Her figure stooped and bent, she jogged all the way toward the first-year dormitory building.
Faster, just a little fast—
"Thud—!"
Head down and focused solely on her hurried escape, Sakura was caught completely off guard. Her forehead slamd heavily against the solid back of a student.
"Oi! Don't you have eyes in your head?!"
A voice, utterly incandescent with rage, erupted across the entire school path. Just from the sound alone, one could tell this was definitely a person with a terrifyingly vicious face.
"Shumimasen!"
Realizing she had bumped into soone, she hurriedly squeezed her eyes shut. Amidst her fluster, she bowed deeply and offered her apology in a muffled, subdued voice. Yet, her personality being innately timid, the voice she produced at this mont was so faint it was nearly inaudible.
"Did you leave your vocal cords at ho? Is that how you apologize?!" Another roar ca crashing down.
"Hontou ni shumimasen!" A voice tinged with a sob rang out once more.
Tears welled up and swirled in Sakura's eyes. She felt that she was so incredibly unlucky today. She hadn't managed to pick out her cara accessories, she had encountered that terrifying gaze again, and she had even bumped into a really fierce—
"?"
Sakura's sobbing voice stopped short. This really fierce person's gaze upon her... seed a little different sohow?
It didn't seem like the gaze of a really fierce person...
Gathering her courage, Sakura carefully, timidly, used the corner of her eye to stealthily raise her head and steal a glance. She discovered that he was actually a very handso boy. It was just that his gaze, apparently, wasn't resting on her at all.
Fuyuji Mikage's gaze was, of course, not resting on this seemingly plain and unremarkable girl. He had already directed the overwhelming majority of his attention onto that stalker, who was glaring back at him with eyes nearly bursting from their sockets.
At this very mont, that perverted middle-aged man had veins bulging angrily on his temples, his fists clenched so tightly in fury, his teeth grinding as if about to shatter. He glared deathly at Fuyuji, as if the very next second he would tear him in two.
Excellent!
Fuyuji secretly nodded to himself. Bro! Great chance! Quickly, use your Sure-Kill Ascending Dragon Sword — no, quickly, use your Sleight of Hand!
Hm?
Noticing the girl beside him, stealthily raising her head and sizing him up with curious eyes, Fuyuji imdiately switched to an even fiercer expression. He glared at her once and loudly cursed again. "What are you looking at?! When you bump into soone, you should be doing a dogeza to apologize, you know that?!"
"Yes!"
Startled, Sakura trembled all over and lowered her head once more. This ti, however, there was no trace of a sob in her voice. She felt that this boy... might not actually be as fierce toward her as she had imagined.
Because the way this boy looked at her was exactly the sa as any normal person.
Watching the perverted store clerk, whose attention had now been completely seized, Kamuro Masumi, hiding beneath the shade of a distant tree, signaled to Fuyuji with a hand gesture, indicating that she was about to begin.
Gazing off into the distance at that figure, slightly hunched with rage and panting heavily, Kamuro drew a deep breath. With her expression perfectly composed, she walked over with asured steps, the heels of her shoes producing crisp clicking sounds against the ground.
Next, she was about to complete the most difficult and most thrilling task in her entire career of petty thievery. This would be the Mount Everest of her professional life.
Perhaps... after accomplishing this achievent, she could wash her hands, retire from the trade, and vanish from the underworld for good.
Watching the slightly portly figure drawing closer and closer, Kamuro's palms grew faintly damp with sweat. Her heart swelled with reflection as she rehearsed in her mind the sequence of events that was about to unfold.
The instant she pretended to accidentally bump into him!
She would use her incomparably practiced, exquisitely polished technique—a light flick of the wrist, fingertips swift as lightning. With a simple lift of her hand, she would pluck the phone from his pocket as effortlessly as picking a leaf from a tree. Then she would signal Fuyuji to retreat, perfectly achieving her objective this ti.
The more she thought about it, the more pleased with herself Kamuro beca. Let's see if Fuyuji dares call her skills lousy after this!
anwhile, on Fuyuji's side, he was still, from ti to ti, lowering his head and barking out another insult. But by this point, Sakura had beco almost immune to it. She stared at this classmate who was dragging things out and not letting her leave, her face full of puzzlent.
Fuyuji watched the two figures about to collide. His heart leaped into his throat. He silently swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
The air seed to freeze in that very instant.
Kamuro straightened her body, kept her cheeks taut, and fixed her gaze straight ahead. The mont she drew near that stalker...
She smoothly, seamlessly sidestepped his body and swiftly walked right past behind that perverted store clerk.
"..."
A gentle breeze swept by, carrying away the fallen leaves on the ground, leaving behind Fuyuji, who had been turned to stone.
Pal...
WHAT! IN! THE! HELL! ARE! YOU! DOING?!
What about all that solemn, vow-filled confidence you had just monts ago? What about the Divine Thief ultimate technique you're so proud of? What about all the experience from your never-failing career as a master thief?
You didn't even touch him, and you just surrendered?!
I was fully prepared. If we failed, the two of us would just bolt imdiately. After running, we'd go find Kito and have him kick this guy to death. But with the situation now... this is going to make the two of us look incredibly dumb, you know?
Kamuro was also sowhat embarrassed at this mont. Two faint, almost imperceptible blushes flew up onto her cheeks as she looked apologetically toward Fuyuji.
[That guy is way too disgusting. Greasy and oily. And he has this weird sll on him. He's just too repulsive. Making physical contact with this creep... I can't accept it, physiologically!]
[Then what do we do now?]
[The plan has temporarily failed. Fall back first. We'll regroup and plan carefully.]
[Fine...]
His plan having failed in such spectacularly magnificent fashion, Fuyuji could only execute a strategic redeploynt.
Lowering his head, he glared once more at Sakura, who was still studying and sizing him up. Fuyuji spoke fiercely.
"Next ti, be more careful, got it? Don't just look down at the ground. Keep your head up and your shoulders straight."
Sakura blanked out for a mont and hurriedly lowered her head. "Yes! Arigatou!"
Arigatou?
What a strange person. To actually say thank you to soone who just scolded her.
"You can go now!"
Nodding at Sakura, Fuyuji turned and walked in Kamuro's direction.
About thirty ters ahead, directly across from him, the perverted repair shop clerk was clenching his fists tightly. Seeing Fuyuji walking toward him, he advanced without a shred of hesitation.
Ho~
So he's been blinded by rage, has he?
Instead of running away, you're walking straight toward ?
Fuyuji watched, his expression utterly composed, as the repair shop clerk, chest heaving violently and footsteps accelerating, approached him. Sensing what was to co, he continued walking forward.
At the instant the two drew near, a low growl erupted from the repair shop clerk's throat. He suddenly lunged forward with a burst of speed and charged straight at Fuyuji.
Fuyuji's footsteps halted. He stopped right there on the spot.
With a loud thud, the repair shop clerk, his center of gravity completely destabilized, crashed heavily and solidly onto the still-damp concrete floor.
Looking down at the pervert sprawled on the ground, Fuyuji asked with feigned, hypocritical concern. "Ojisan, are you hurt?"
The perverted clerk lay prone on the ground. His entire body trembled uncontrollably, as if, at any mont, he would violently spring up and attack.
Regrettably, he ultimately did not have the nerve. He could only hang his head low and reply in a muffled voice. "I'm fine."
"Tch!"
The look of concern on Fuyuji's face instantly faded. His voice, curious just a mont ago, suddenly turned furious. He cursed loudly. "You're actually fine?! What a sha you didn't fall and die, you blind bastard! Ptui!"
The acting emperor, Fuyuji Mikage, maintained, at every mont, the consistency of his persona before others.
Ignoring the perverted clerk, whose neck had already flushed crimson with blood, Fuyuji let out a scoffing laugh and strutted away with a swagger.
Once Fuyuji drew near Kamuro, the two exchanged a look of tacit, wordless understanding. Silently lifting their legs, they turned together and ducked into a small alleyway.
Inside the dim, shadowy alley.
"Bro."
Fuyuji gazed with pity at Kamuro, who was leaning against the opposite wall, her face flushed with embarrassnt.
"This is far too humiliating. Just leave the group chat already. From now on, never ntion 'Master Thief Masumi' or 'Sleight of Hand Ultimate Technique' or any of that ever again. Just obediently co ho and help grind dungeons."
"That was an accident!" Kamuro raised her hand and gestured in the air, explaining. "That guy's gaze was way too disgusting. Just one touch and I feel like I'd be contaminated by his revolting aura for the rest of my life."
"Wash your hands and retire. This line of work doesn't suit you." Fuyuji let out a sigh.
"It was my first ti attempting a target like that. I had no experience. Next ti I'll definitely succeed!"
"There won't be a next ti, Pal. The opportunity only cos once."
"No! I want to try one more ti!"
"There's no more chance."
"Why not?" Kamuro bristled with indignation.
"Because, of course..."
Fuyuji flipped his palm over. A mobile phone with an idol-thed case appeared in his hand.
"I already got it."
"..."
Kamuro felt as if she had been struck by lightning. At this mont, she was experiencing the greatest crisis since her debut. The ultimate skill she was most proud of, the one she was confident she could completely surpass Fuyuji in—had been defeated by Fuyuji himself.
Patting Kamuro on the shoulder, Fuyuji shook his head. "Co ho with . Actually, grinding dungeons is pretty great. At the very least, effort yields rewards."
"How were you able to steal it?!" Kamuro stepped back, unable to face reality.
"Why else do you think you're Master Thief Number Two, and I'm Master Thief Number One?" Fuyuji spun the phone in a circle on his fingertip, a composed, confident smile surfacing on his face.
With a sharp slap, Kamuro grabbed Fuyuji's wrist with lightning speed. Her eyes, bright and burning, fixed intently on him. "How did you do it?! You clearly never even touched him!"
"Personal technique." Fuyuji replied vaguely.
"Tell !" Kamuro's eyes glead.
"I told you, it's a personal technique."
"I'm your pal!" Kamuro had cast aside all sense of sha.
"Even being my pal won't do. This technique is only passed down to my descendants. And besides..."
Fuyuji retracted his smile. He gripped the phone firmly in his palm and turned around.
"We've got to deal with this trouble first..."
The repair shop clerk was bracing his hands on his knees, panting heavily, his gaze fixated on the mobile phone in Fuyuji's hand with a ferocious, savage look. Fury was devouring his reason.
"You two wretched dogs! You actually dared to steal my most beloved Shizuku-chan!!"
Kamuro likewise retracted her expression. She looked with solemn seriousness at the sowhat heavyset repair clerk. "Do you need to go call soone for you?"
"No need."
Fuyuji pinched the phone, its exterior plastered with idol photos, between his fingers and walked toward that clerk step by step.
"There's sothing I've actually wanted to try for a long ti. I've just never found the right opportunity. Now is perfect."
"Give Shizuku-chan back to !" The perverted clerk roared, his neck bulging and thick.
"Give it back to you? Sure." Fuyuji tossed the phone in his hand as if teasing a dog. "Catch it, and it's yours."
Dragging his heavy, sluggish steps, the perverted clerk spread both arms wide and suddenly lunged at Fuyuji, attempting to envelop him in a bear hug.
Fuyuji sidestepped in a flash, nimbly evading.
"No good, no good. Still just a little short. Keep it up!" Fuyuji continued using the phone to taunt and provoke.
"AAAAARGH! Give it over right now!"
Eyes bloodshot and bulging, the clerk glared at Fuyuji. Saliva dribbled uncontrollably from the corner of his mouth and dripped down. At this mont, the clerk had completely lost all reason.
"I told you, touch it and it's yours."
"I'll kill you!"
The perverted clerk randomly grabbed a nearby trash can and hurled it directly at Fuyuji.
The trash can ca flying with a howling gust of wind and a spray of scattered garbage. Fuyuji's body swayed slightly. With another clean, crisp sidestep, he nimbly dodged once more.
Mm... physically weak and unsteady. Weight probably around one hundred eighty pounds. Hasn't exercised regularly in years.
Fuyuji, as if strolling through a courtyard, casually evaded his opponent's utterly erratic, chaotic lunges while simultaneously analyzing the physical condition of the man before him.
At this speed, even if he gave him a full hour, he'd never manage to touch him. However...
Glancing over at Kamuro, who had her arms folded, brow furrowed, index finger rapidly tapping against her arm with impatience... better wrap this up quickly.
A streak of silvery light flowed through Fuyuji's eyes. His psychic power slowly emanated outward. Telekinetic force gradually infused and reinforced his arm.
Clench fist! Turn body! Fine dust lifted gently from the ground beneath his feet. Two steps to close the distance—his fist, wrapped in the roar of tearing air, swung forth!
The very next second—
The repair shop clerk's sowhat portly fra was struck as if by a speeding compact car. His entire body flew up into the air, traced a brief parabolic arc, and then crashed heavily against the wall of the narrow alley.
Dust, debris, and peeling fragnts of the wall surface were instantly shaken loose by the impact, cascading down in a rustling shower. A cloud of dust billowed up within the small alley.
Kamuro waved her hand to clear the dust nearby. Her mouth hung slightly agape, watching this scene with utter incredulity.
Since when did this guy beco such a powerhouse fighter?
Drawing near the perverted clerk, now crumpled on the ground, Kamuro nudged his body with her foot and spoke in disbelief. "He actually... lost consciousness in a single blow?"
"Bro, let's set that aside for now."
"Now what?"
Fuyuji calmly raised the hand he had just thrown the punch with. The skin, originally a relatively healthy pale color, was now visibly swollen and flushed red. The knuckles had even taken on a sowhat purplish hue.
The very next second, a pained, twisted voice rang out.
"Take to the infirmary. Hss... it hurts so much!"
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