But right now, it was seriously awkward—and kinda embarrassing.

I lay sprawled on the ground. No dirt, just a light dusting. My clothes were fine—just needed a quick brush-off later.

No, no, no! That wasn’t the point! It was where my hands were!

My palms were planted squarely on Seiran’s chest! I’d meant to catch her waist as she stumbled, but her squirming shifted my grip. Now my hands were… there.

I swear—cosmic will made me do it! Not my fault!

Holding her up was one thing—I could’ve explained that! But then I *squeezed*. And heard her tiny, breathy whimper.

*Oh crap.* Just escaped one disaster, now diving into another. Barely dodged the "driving without a license" bullet, and now this? If Seiran’s in a bad mood, she could slap me with cop assault charges! Why did I squeeze?! Why did I *hear* that whimper?!

Seiran rested against my chest. Her bare skin brushed mine—smooth, soft. My hand stayed frozen on her chest. If this weren’t a dark street, if she weren’t in uniform… it’d be a beautiful scene.

But her delicate face flushed crimson after that whimper. She ducked her head, radiating shy charm. My heart plummeted. The prettier she looked, the more she’d need to protect her reputation. She’d bury me. What charge would she pin on me? *Cop assault!* *Cop assault!* *Cop assault!*

Mom, no! I don’t wanna rot in jail! I don’t wanna face prison showers! I don’t wanna lose my—! Heaven, stop messing with me!

Only one thing left: *Stay calm.* Yeah. First, calm *myself* down. "Stay calm" really is wise advice.

Snapping out of my daze, I scrambled up, brushed off the dust, and helped Seiran to her feet.

…Maybe this’d lighten my sentence?

"Uh… sorry! I wasn’t trying to—I just saw you falling and wanted to steady you. But I messed up. Made us both trip."

Perfect. Took all the blame. Made her completely innocent. Played the clumsy victim. Even slipped in that *I* fell too—diluting my guilt. Genius!

"Fukami-kun, it’s fine. You were trying to help. Just an accident." Seiran’s voice was tight. "If that’s all, I’ll go. Call if you need anything. Bye!"

She spun away without smoothing her rumpled uniform, rushed to her car, and sped off.

…Seriously?

Did I just dodge a bullet?

Back in my car, I needed quiet. Luck saved me this time—Seiran was Officer Shimizu’s friend. This place was toxic. Time to vanish.

*Seasoned driver, engage!*

Door shut. Seatbelt on. Low beams lit. Engine purring. Mirrors adjusted. Gearshifted. Released brake. Rolled out.

Flawless driving form—I *was* trained. Priority one: get home. Every extra minute outside was risk.

I’m not leaving again… well, not driving out again!

I gunned Ms. Tsurumi’s car toward home.

Thankfully, the last five minutes were smooth. No cop run-ins. No flat tires. No explosions. No fiery oil leaks—

Wait. Why was I imagining worst-case scenarios?!

…

I parked in my yard. Sat in the silent car, replaying the day.

What a rollercoaster. Felt like an action movie. Heart still racing. Gotta chill.

I glanced at the women in my backseat, then at my quiet house. Killed the engine. Unbuckled. Turned off headlights. Cracked a window for air. Stepped out.

I’d promised a haircut today—a fresh look. It was past eight. Let them wait. My punishment for surviving this day.

Deal with them after my haircut. Hmph!

Whistling off-key, I strutted out. There was a legendary barbershop nearby. *That’s* where I’d go.

They say hair is a man’s second life. A great cut boosts your score by fifty points—right up there with facial features. Though honestly? Money’s the real MVP. Cash turns any face into a ten.

What was that shop called? Memory flickered… *Kamiya Beauty*. Yeah. Headquarters was supposedly 500 meters away. Celebrities and idols got styled there—hair, makeup, the works.

My long locks were begging for a transformation. Perfect. Get the cut, *then* haul the girls inside.

Five minutes later, I stood before Kamiya Beauty HQ—famous in this district. Evening meant fewer clients, but three stylish women still occupied chairs. Beauty was life, after all.

How to describe it? Outside, just another building. Inside? Luxe. Sleek offices. Glamorous styling stations. Hidden depths.

So this was where I’d reinvent myself.