Swish.
Yukieda and Mai stepped into the classroom one after another.
The chatter in the room hushed instantly—then resumed, but the atmosphere felt noticeably cooler than before.
*What are they hiding from me?* Yukieda wondered.
“Good morning, Yukieda-chan! And good morning to you too, Mai-san!”
Mari had grown slightly bolder around Yukieda, though she still avoided direct eye contact.
“Mai, say something too,” Yukieda nudged him gently.
“Mm. Good morning, Mari-san.”
Mai was efficient. He’d promised to catch the culprit behind Shizuku’s reluctance to attend school by tonight. Yukieda had already messaged Shizuku yesterday: *Bringing backup to visit today…* She winced inwardly. *Visit? It’s my own house.*
*Sigh.*
*When will I finally reveal my true self to Shizuku?*
Mari’s face glowed with excitement—partly because Mai had replied, but mostly from the gossip swirling around.
Classmates kept voices low, trying not to disturb others. But they forgot: Yukieda wasn’t ordinary. Her senses surpassed human limits.
“Did you hear? Party at the old school building last night.”
“No way! I heard there was a DV camera… filming *that* kind of thing?”
“You mean—?!”
“Bold move.”
*(Relatively normal chatter.)*
Then the wilder takes:
“Supposedly Tom Cat concert mode.”
“1 vs. N?!”
“Ugh… why wasn’t I invited?!”
A boy caught Yukieda’s golden eyes flicking toward him. He stiffened and hastily switched topics.
Even seasoned high schoolers were stunned—classmates pulling *that* off?
Still, no one knew the participants’ identities. Only that outsiders were involved.
Yukieda glanced at Kotake’s empty seat. Koki and Furucha sat stiffly, stealing glances at her.
Compared to that, another rumor felt trivial: a student cleaning the gym yesterday claimed strange noises from the storage room—*two girls*, maybe.
Kagejima-sensei entered, hair disheveled, mood sour. He raised a hand for silence.
“Ah… Kotake has family matters. Transferring schools effective today.”
“Huh?! So sudden?”
Most guessed why. After *that* incident yesterday… transferring immediately? Obvious.
The school suppressed details, limiting discussion. But Byakuro would become legend.
For Yukieda? The best possible outcome.
—
The lunch bell chimed softly.
“Hmm… bladder’s a bit full.”
Yukieda strolled the hallway, sensing curious stares. *Used to it.* Her hair color stood out—but classmates had adjusted. *Just don’t stare at my butt, please.*
Beyond general curiosity, two figures trailed her: Koki and Furucha. Their gazes had been odd since morning.
Predictably, they followed her into the girls’ restroom.
Yukieda eyed them warily, breath slowing. *Still nervous about that “Meow Meow” thing…*
Koki and Furucha exchanged a look—then resolve hardened in their eyes.
Thud.
They dropped to their knees, foreheads pressed to the floor.
Yukieda flinched back.
“We’re truly sorry!”
“Okay, okay—I get it! This is a girls’ restroom! People are coming! Get up!”
They stayed kneeling. “Please forgive us!”
Glancing nervously at the door, Yukieda hurriedly lifted them (using just a hint of strength—they resisted).
“Phew… Just talk normally. I don’t want misunderstandings.”
“We were wrong… Forgive us. Command us anything—even… licking… anything.”
Koki stole a shy glance at Yukieda. *If it’s Yukieda-san… not so bad. I wonder what she tastes like.*
“Lick *what*?” Yukieda shuddered. *Why’s she staring under my skirt?!*
“Never mind. I don’t wanna know.”
Furucha opened her mouth to answer, but Yukieda waved her off.
*Ugh. What’s in kids’ heads these days? Food or… *that*. Zero decency.*
Yukieda wiped imaginary sweat. “Actually—I *do* have a command.”
Koki and Furucha perked up.
“Get into the University of Tokyo.”
Later, Koki and Furucha revealed: Kotake plus three other delinquents had left Byakuro—abroad? Elsewhere? Unclear.
Furucha pleaded for Kotake. Yukieda shook her head.
“Yukieda-chan, are you okay?” Mari approached, worried. She’d seen them follow Yukieda out.
“I wanted to go too, but Mai stopped me. Said you’d handle it.”
“Fine. They just apologized.” Yukieda leaned close to Mai’s ear, whispering:
“When *you* use the restroom… boys’ or girls’?”
Warm breath brushed his ear. Mai shifted back slightly.
“Girls’.”
Yukieda gazed at him, envious.
Mai stood motionless as a swordsman—only his eyelid twitched.
Lunch break.
Today’s bento wasn’t Yukieda’s. It was Mai’s.
She usually woke early to cook, then took the train to Shizuku’s. This morning? Mai was already cooking. *He woke up earlier than me?!*
Admiration flickered. She remembered youth—hating mornings, loving late nights. Mai’s discipline was terrifying.
He’d asked: “Need a bento?”
She said yes. He produced one neatly packed. *If I’d said no… it’d vanish.*
Now, three desks pushed together.
“Wow! This bento’s so fancy! Yukieda-chan’s amazing!” Mari beamed.
“Ah… not really…” Yukieda glanced at Mai. He stayed silent.
“Can I try?”
“Sure…”
Chopsticks plucked an octopus piece.
“Tastes way better! Your old bentos were pretty but too bland—barely any salt!”
Yukieda shot Mai another guilty look. “Experts say young people eat too much salt and sugar anyway…”
Mari just blinked.
Yukieda fell silent. *Same ingredients I bought last night…*
She lifted a fried shrimp, parted her soft pink lips slightly, chewed gently.
*Indeed.*
*How can Mai make something this simple taste… better?*
She tasted more.
Delicious. Undeniably.
A quiet pang. *So my proudest skill… is just average.*
Being bested where she felt strongest stung.
Mari chatted animatedly now—shy at first, then bubbly.
“What shows do you watch at night, Yukieda-chan?”
“TV? I like sports and the evening news!”
“Huh? Evening news? Sports? That’s for old men! You’re joking, right? Haha!”
“…”
“I love romance dramas! What about you?”
“*Romance of the Three Kingdoms*?” Yukieda ventured uncertainly. Mai had finished eating, sipping tea quietly.
“Whoa! So unique! *Three Kingdoms*? Not touching at all!”
“It *is*! When Zhuge Liang died—‘O vast heavens, why are you so unkind to me’—*so* moving!”
Mari blinked, uncomprehending. She promised to recommend shows later.
“Ah! Stomachache! Restroom! *Told* you cheap ingredients backfire!”
*Ah. She’s the quiet-then-chatty type,* Yukieda realized.
Only Yukieda and Mai remained.
Mai dabbed his mouth with a napkin, then pulled a card from his bag.
“What’s this?”
“Your Magical Girl certification. Like… an employee ID.”
Yukieda squinted at the slightly goofy photo (snapped without her knowing) and the giant “D” beside it. She clicked her tongue.
