When one of the girls demanded just a few thousand yen, Eriri—ever the naïve Ojou-sama—nodded and reached into her bag.
She really was that innocent.
To someone from a wealthy family, a few thousand yen was nothing. If that was all it took to end things peacefully, she was happy to pay.
But the moment she opened her wallet—
Flash.
Several crisp 10,000-yen bills caught the light.
The two delinquents froze for a second.
Eriri, still fumbling, panicked a little—there weren't any smaller bills inside. She didn't have change.
That was when it happened.
Grab.
One of the gyaru girls seized her wrist.
"Hey, I changed my mind," the girl sneered. "My shoulder's aching now. A few thousand isn't gonna cut it—give me everything."
The words were so shameless, so brazen, even Eriri finally realized she was being mugged.
Panic set in.
What do I do?
If I give them everything, will they just keep going?
But if I refuse… will they beat me up?
Her eyes welled with tears again.
Why is this happening to me?
Seeing Eriri hesitate, the delinquents grew impatient.
A scuffle broke out—grabbing, tugging—
Then suddenly, one of the girls raised her fist.
Eriri's eyes shut tight. Her body trembled.
She hated pain.
She was terrified.
And then—
"Tsk."
A sharp click of the tongue, laced with cold fury, cut through the moment.
Footsteps. Fast. Coming closer.
SLAP.
A loud, jarring sound echoed through the plaza.
No pain followed.
Eriri hesitantly opened one eye.
The delinquent's arm had been knocked aside. She staggered backward, clutching it.
And standing in front of her—
A tall figure.
Familiar.
Safe.
Azuma.
In that moment, every shred of fear melted away.
Just like back then…
As long as she could see that back—that unwavering figure—
Everything else faded.
"What the hell's your problem?! You wanna die or something!?"
The gyaru who tried to hit her screeched, showing the red mark swelling on her hand.
Yukima Azuma didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
His usual calm expression was gone. The slight narrowing of his eyes, the absence of his smile—
His presence alone was overwhelming.
A cold, crushing pressure filled the air around him.
Ten seconds passed in silence.
The two girls, once so aggressive, started to wilt under his gaze.
"Apologize to her."
His voice was low and unyielding—an order, not a request.
The girls hesitated, trying to summon the courage to resist—
But something about the look in his eyes stopped them.
Like a serpent had just slithered up behind them, tongue flicking against the nape of their necks.
"S-sorry!" they blurted, bowing.
"Get lost."
They didn't need to be told twice.
The girls bolted, tripping over their own feet as they ran.
Azuma exhaled quietly, watching their backs disappear. The oppressive air lifted.
Ever since reaching his current level in shogi—a stage where people whispered words like "genius" and "unbeatable"—Azuma had learned something strange.
That invisible aura—the presence he used on the board—could bleed into real life.
Just a little.
Like a monarch standing atop a battlefield.
A single glance, a single command—
Enough to freeze lesser opponents in place.
Even two aggressive gyaru had no defense against that kind of pressure.
Eriri stared up at him.
Her lips parted, ready to ask something like "Why did you follow me?"
But then she saw it.
Her eyes fell on his hand.
And the words changed immediately.
"You're bleeding!"
Azuma blinked, then followed her gaze.
The back of his right hand was streaked with blood—thin lines of crimson trailing to his fingertips before dripping onto the pavement.
He flexed his fingers casually.
"Ah. Must've scratched it on her nails when I slapped her hand away."
It wasn't deep.
He didn't really feel it.
But Eriri immediately stepped forward.
"Don't move!" she snapped.
In full tsundere mode, she rummaged through her bag, pulled out a bandage, and rinsed the wound with a bottle of mineral water. Then, she carefully applied the bandage.
Once she finished, she let out a relieved sigh—
Then immediately realized what she'd just done.
"P-Phew… EHH!?"
Her face turned scarlet.
"Th-this is just because you helped me! I'm just repaying a favor, got it!? Don't get the wrong idea!"
She huffed, turning her head to the side.
Azuma didn't respond.
He didn't tease her. Didn't poke at the tsundere cracks.
Even though he knew what her words really meant—
He'd long ago chosen not to engage.
That was the core of why they broke up.
Still…
"Let's go get something to eat." His voice was soft.
"Wha—why would I eat with you! Don't be ridiculous—"
GRRRRRRROWL.
Her stomach betrayed her.
Loudly.
Her face went from red to nuclear.
From her flushed cheeks to her ears, she looked like a Christmas apple.
Azuma let out a quiet chuckle.
She really was just like before.
Probably came straight from the manga exhibit and hadn't eaten all day.
For someone who rarely left the house, walking around all day must've worn her out.
Of course she was hungry.
And no matter how much she denied it—her body had already sold her out.
A textbook case of…
"Complaining with the mouth, but honest in action."