Kushida Kikyo stood frozen in place, allowing Katsuragi Keima's palm to lightly pat her shoulder. The touch wasn't heavy, yet it felt as if it carried a strange current, causing her tense nerve endings to tremble slightly.
The things he said—
"It's not your fault," "They got what they deserved," "Treat as an alt account to vent"—
Word by word, like a fine drizzle, they tapped against the frozen and twisted fortress of her heart.
'Not my fault? Does he really think that? Or... is this just an act?'
Kushida never imagined Keima would react this way. She didn't believe anyone could truly understand her.
Wavering—it truly existed. Like a solid sheet of ice under continuous sunlight, even if it was just an insignificant corner, a single drop of cold water had quietly lted.
For a long ti, she viewed that past as her deepest sin and stain—a malignant tumor that had to be buried completely, never to be glimpsed by anyone. Because of it, she hated Horikita, who might know the truth; she hated everyone who might make her recall that unsightly ti; and she hated her forr self—foolish, fragile, and ultimately out of control.
But now, there was soone using such a calm, even slightly biased tone to bla everything on "those who applied pressure to her." And he offered a solution that seed absurd yet... incredibly tempting.
'Treat him as an alt account? Venting pressure?'
The thought struck her as farcical, yet it was faintly mixed with an indescribable sense of... relief?
If such an absolutely safe, non-betraying "trash bin" truly existed—one who actively invited her to dump all her darkness into him... would those negative emotions that gnawed at her day and night finally have an outlet that wouldn't explode?
But this wavering lasted only an instant, like a candle fla flickering in the night wind—weak and brief. The survival rules she had built over a long ti and her deep sense of mistrust imdiately ca roaring back, snuffing out that fragile spark of warmth.
She took a sharp step back, completely moving out of the range of Keima's hand as if dodging a deadly virus. Her face re-congealed into a cold, perfect smile, but the mirth didn't reach her eyes at all; instead, it radiated a bone-chilling frost.
"Ahaha... ahahaha..."
She chuckled, her voice returning to that sweet tone, though it was hollower than before, "Katsuragi-kun, I really underestimated you. You're truly the most interesting and self-righteous person I've ever t~ Saying all these heart-wrenching things and going in such a huge circle just to play the role of a savior? Or... do you think that by using this 'unconditional acceptance' drama, you can make a bad woman like feel deeply grateful and then obediently turn into the 'good girl' you like?"
She tilted her head, her gaze like poison-tipped needles, "Your 'suggestion' is very interesting, but I refuse. I, Kushida Kikyo, don't need anyone's sympathy, and I certainly don't need so inexplicable emotional trash bin. My pressure, my past, my dark side... I'll handle them myself, in my own way—"
"No, you're wrong, Kikyo."
Right then, Keima suddenly spoke.
"What?"
"I never wanted to change you. In my eyes, you are the most special existence, Kikyo. There's no need for you to change for anyone, including ." Keima said.
Kushida Kikyo appeared to be an extrely troubleso character.
However—Keima had conquered countless similar characters before. No matter how twisted the personality or how stubborn the will, as long as he consistently outputted his own concepts and provided emotional value, wavering was inevitable. Even if it was negative, it just needed to keep accumulating. Once it broke through that critical threshold, all the negative would transform into positive.
Keima intended to maintain this offensive. He could feel that Kushida had wavered for a split second just now. Even a split second was enough. A crack had ford in her heart.
Next, he would need to continuously pour into that crack, filling it bit by bit. That crack would only grow wider.
"The reason I say this is because I care about you very much, Kushida-san!" Keima said with utmost seriousness.
Hearing his words, Kushida paused.
'Care about ? No, don't make laugh!'
"Save that talk for fooling others. I don't feel your care for at all! Before, when I asked you to help get in touch with Horikita, you refused—"
"That was precisely because I felt the pressure on you. At the ti, even though I didn't know what you'd been through, I could sense your obsession with Horikita was... special. I didn't want you to feel too much discomfort."
Keima spoke imdiately. He had already predicted what she might say— or rather, Keima had analyzed all possibilities in advance and proceeded step-by-step based on Kushida's reactions. Just like a ga.
"You... that's just an excuse!"
Kushida's eye twitched, and she pursed her lips as if trying to discard her own hesitation.
She pressed a step forward; though shorter than Keima, her aura carried a condescending pressure:
"Katsuragi Keima, since you've stepped into this mire and seen things you shouldn't have seen... then rember my words today well!"
Her smile grew more radiant, yet more dangerous: "From tomorrow—no, from this very mont—making you get expelled from this Advanced Nurturing High School will beco one of my most important after-school activities~ I will 'ticulously' prepare everything for you, just like I would for my 'dearest friend.' Are you looking forward to it? Kat-su-ra-gi-kun~"
Every word was like a honey-coated razor blade, sweet and lethal. This was her final declaration and her way of re-fortifying her psychological defense— using explicit hostility and a goal to combat that montary, uncontrolled wavering and... that damn illusion of being understood.
However, facing this naked, malicious threat, Keima felt no anger, no fear, and not even surprise. He simply pushed up his glasses calmly, his gaze behind the lenses deep and firm, as if he had long expected her reaction.
Dialogue options reduced from 1,203 to 134.
"Since you're planning to get expelled anyway, isn't that even better?"
"What?"
"Since you're already going to get expelled, you might as well use as your emotional outlet. After all, I've already seen you like this, so there's no harm in complaining to , right?" Keima said.
"You... just how obsessed are you... are you a madman?" Kushida grew increasingly bewildered by Keima. What on earth did this guy want?
"And Kikyo." Keima's voice remained steady, even taking on a tone of solemn promise, "I accept all of your choices."
He nodded slightly, as if confirming an important ga quest: "So, I also make my promise here: one day, I will definitely make you trust . Not as a target you need to eliminate, nor as an 'alt account' for venting pressure, but as... a companion to Kushida Kikyo, soone you can truly drop your disguise with, without fear of exposing any side of yourself, and interact with frankly."
These words weren't a passionate vow or a romantic confession; they even sounded a bit like a technical exposition. But the determination and almost obsessive "conquest will" they contained made Kushida's heart skip a beat for so reason.
'Trust him? Interact frankly? Companion?
Are you kidding ...'
She wanted to sneer loudly, to mock him with harsher words, to turn and leave imdiately and throw everything about tonight and this strange man behind her. But her throat felt blocked. She only twitched the corner of her mouth, letting out a cold laugh mixed with sarcasm, disdain, and an indescribable, complex emotion.
In this world, such an eccentric actually existed. Why would he go to such lengths? Was it for self-preservation?
...This guy didn't care about this school at all. Even if he were expelled, he likely wouldn't mind. Then why say such things to her? Could it be... he likes...
No, impossible. His head is clearly filled with nothing but gas! Absolutely impossible! And there are plenty of people who like . Even if he's one of them, it's... it's nothing special!
"Whatever, you ga-addicted weirdo. But, before your nonsensical 'one day' arrives..." She turned her back to Keima, her voice drifting into the night wind with a final chill, "Try to find a way to stay in this school first. Goodbye, Keima-kun... or perhaps 'farewell' is more appropriate?"
Kushida didn't use the title "Katsuragi-kun" at the end, but "Keima-kun." Having spoken, she stayed no longer, disappearing into the darkness at the other end of the corridor with a pace that seed light but was actually sowhat hurried. Her back remained straight and perfect, as if the loss of control, the confession, and the threats just now were all re hallucinations.
Keima stood there, watching the direction she vanished for a long ti. The night wind blew past, bringing a hint of chill. He looked down and took out Kushida Kikyo's card.
[Na: Kushida Kikyo] [Current Favorability: -49%]
Keima reached out a finger and tapped it. Elsie had told him before that these cards had a feature to see the historical changes in favorability.
[Historical Favorability: -34%] [Historical Favorability: -45%] [Historical Favorability: -50%] [Current Favorability: -49%]
Keima compared the tis. From the mont he appeared before Kushida, the favorability plumted. During their exchange, the speed of the drop increased—but soon, the magnitude of the decline slowed. It pulled back at -50%.
The most crucial thing was that the favorability actually bounced back by 1%. This was enough to prove that Keima's previous conquest direction was not wrong.
The -49% favorability didn't make him show the slightest discouragent. On the contrary, a sharp and focused light flashed in his eyes—the characteristic look of a top-tier player facing the highest difficulty challenge.
"Kami-nii-sama!" Just then, a figure descended from the sky. It was Elsie. She had been flying on her broom and didn't know the situation. "Kami-nii-sama, you're amazing! You actually guessed that Kikyo-chan would be wandering sowhere in the school!"
Elsie looked at Keima with admiration, but upon noticing the value on the card, her expression instantly turned to horror. "WHAAAAAAT!! Negative 49!! That's basically the level of an archenemy!"
"As long as the value increases, it's fine." Keima wore a smile as he looked into the distance.
"What do we do next, Kami-nii-sama?"
"It's ti to head back."
"Great! I've already prepared a midnight snack for you!"
"I suddenly have sothing to do again..."
anwhile, in the shadows of a corner at the end of a distant school road, Kushida Kikyo—who had long since left—was leaning against the cold wall. She slowly slid down to sit on the ground, burying her face deep in her knees.
'Trust... companion... ...Katsuragi Keima, you are a... complete and utter... madman!'
She clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms. The threatening words were still in her ears, and the hostility was not fake. But in a very hidden corner of her heart, that forcibly extinguished candle fla seed to leave behind a trace of almost imperceptible, faintly warm ash.
Clearly, she should be extrely annoyed by Keima; her disgust for him should even exceed her hatred for Horikita Suzune. But why was she constantly replaying his words in her mind?
'Dammit, dammit!'
Keima's words were like a virus, spreading through her heart. That man's eerily calm gaze, the phrase "I accept all of your choices," and the promise that "one day, I will definitely make you trust "...
She twitched her lips, wanting to produce a mocking sneer, but found her facial muscles were a bit stiff. The night wind blew across her exposed neck, bringing a chill that made her hug her knees tighter involuntarily.
'Why... why him?'
The question popped up uncontrollably. Why was it Katsuragi Keima—this weirdo who seed indifferent to the 3D world and obsessed only with illusory gas—who crashed into her secret? Why did he not only fail to run away in shock, disdain, or fear like a normal person, but instead press closer with a nearly obsessive stance of understanding and acceptance? Even... willingly becoming a target for her to vent on?
'Is it because I'm not scary enough? Because my threats weren't harsh enough?'
No, she knew very well how malicious her gaze and tone were at that mont. That was her true dark side, enough to make most people feel a chill and keep their distance. But Keima... what was that reaction of his? Calmly pushing up his glasses and then saying "you might as well use as your emotional outlet"?
'Freak! Unreasonable!'
She shook her head vigorously, as if trying to toss that glass-wearing, calm-faced figure out of her mind. But the mory had taken root, becoming clearer instead.
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