"It is entirely Lord Kagura's fault that my body grows ever more wanton... dragging me to that tattoo parlor, no less—what if other maidens were to glimpse such a humiliating mark? Lord Kagura is truly deplorable, alas—"
Seated within the carriage, Hayasaka caressed her lower abdomen, adorned with a lascivious tattoo of violet and pink interwoven with delicate filigree, her cheeks aflame as she muttered beneath her breath.
In truth, she was well aware of what this salacious tattoo signified—nothing less than a silhouette of her intimate anatomy, tracing the contours of her womb and ovaries upon her flesh.
"Ahh—ooh… smack, smack, smack…"
No sooner had Eri settled into the carriage than drowsiness overtook her. With scant regard for ladylike decorum, she yawned prodigiously, her mouth agape, lifting her right hand to shield her lips briefly before nibbling them like a rabbit.
"Approaching four thousand instances of self-indulgence—such lethargy surely stems from nocturnal pursuits rather than slumber…"
Kagura propped his left elbow against the carriage door, casting a sidelong glance at Eri, seated centrally, as he mused silently to himself.
Were he to voice such thoughts aloud, he suspected Eri might seize the opportunity to shear his manhood with scissors whilst he slept.
"Prolonged vigils shall mar your complexion, you know."
Kagura ventured a subtle admonition.
"Silence! Mind your own tongue! See to it that your puppet maiden rests well instead—my blemished skin and brittle locks hardly stir your pity~"
"…Tch, who said I harbor no concern?"
Kagura shot Eri an exasperated glance, only to notice Qiong observing him from the corner of her amber eyes, their tranquility unexpectedly soothing to his spirit.
Their gazes met for a fleeting second before both averted their eyes in unison.
"Moreover, refrain from uttering such words carelessly to other maidens—or to Qiong, for that matter. That's harassment! Should you find yourself detained, do not dare summon aid from home—Mother and I shan't bear the disgrace."
"So, by implication, it's permissible to trouble you alone?"
"Cease your prattle! Foolish brother, I've not granted you leave to exploit my words! To harass your sister—how perverse are you?! You—you—you—keep your distance, cling to the door, come no closer—ugh, your vile stench wafts nearer!"
"Look here…" Kagura scratched the back of his head, gesturing toward Qiong, who rested with closed eyes, and retorted, "If you so despise sharing this space with me, why not let Qiong take the middle? Who compels you to wedge yourself there each time?!"
—Were Qiong in the center, I might stealthily caress her legs. Were it not for you, wretched sister, I could perchance deepen my bond with Qiong!
"I—I—I… I've no intent to claim the middle, it's mere happenstance, happenstance! Besides, am I to let Qiong sit beside you? That would be thrusting little Qiong into a pit of flames! Only I, as your sister, can endure such torment—grasp that first, you dolt!"
Eri brandished her small fist, bellowing at Kagura before biting her lip with a petulant "hmph~."
Snap! Kagura pressed his hand atop Eri's crown, tousling her hair with a wry chuckle and a shake of his head. "Alas… you troublesome sister."
"Don't presume to pat my head, you vexing brother! Waaah—!!"
Eri seized Kagura's hand and sank her teeth into it.
"Ow—pain—!!!"
Kagura yelped, startling Miss Nao Hayasaka at the reins. The carriage swerved twice along the private road, prompting Qiong to clutch Eri's arm and shut her eyes in alarm.
Nearing the academy, Kagura shook his swollen, bitten right hand and retrieved his phone to message Hayasaka: [Regarding a maiden suited to wed me, I deem it essential she be a beauty of at least 85 points. Whom do you reckon fits such a standard, Hayasaka?]
Hayasaka replied forthwith: [Did you not spend a year in Class J last term? Among your peers, if one must weigh beauty, lineage, and aptitude, Yukino Yukino-shita might prove a worthy choice.]
Oh… Yukino Yukino-shita.
The image of that lady surfaced in Kagura's mind.
A raven-haired maiden reclined against her chair by the window, dozing as though a slumbering doll.
Her faint, tantalizing breaths, the subtle fragrance of incense wafting from her chambers, her tresses dancing like a skirt's hem lifted by a seaside breeze, her petite frame—so delicate it seemed she might dissolve into the ether with a sprite-like pop—and the book cradled in her hands, its cover adorned with a black cat, all wove a scene of serene splendor.
"Indeed, Yukino-shita proves herself a fitting candidate."
Kagura stroked his chin, replying to Hayasaka: [Intriguing… though I've scant acquaintance with her. Have you any stratagem to aid my pursuit?]
Hayasaka Ai responded promptly: [I counsel you first exchange a few words with her, fostering rapport from naught. Let alone Yukino-shita, you've scarce a friend at school! Ere any bond forms, my counsel is moot… surely you'd not bind her and force her to sign a marriage certificate.]
Kagura reflected: Indeed, to abruptly entreat a lady to become my bride would confound any soul. I must first draw near. In memory, Yukino-shita oft lingered after lessons in the forsaken classroom on the fifth floor of the old schoolhouse, immersed in her books…
Chiba Municipal Sobu High, founded seven decades past, melded new and old edifices. Kagura and his ilk chiefly occupied the modern halls.
The old schoolhouse now stood largely abandoned, home only to a handful of obscure societies.
Beyond the grand entrance rose the newly erected main hall, where first- to third-years studied together. The structure from the early Heisei era now served as a laboratory and hub for prominent student societies, linked to the main hall by the dim, wooden husk of the old schoolhouse.
The first day of lessons passed unremarkably. Kagura exchanged contact details with a few inquisitive classmates, then, upon dismissal, made for the old schoolhouse.
Creak—creak—
In the shadowy corridor, Kagura ascended the groaning wooden stairs to the fifth floor.
With most ceiling bulbs extinguished, peering from the stairwell's midpoint toward the far end evoked an eerie, endless expanse, as though the terminus were unattainable.
A mere illusion, of course.
Knock, knock!
Kagura strode purposefully to the endmost classroom door and rapped courteously.
No placard adorned the door, nor did the overhead sign proclaim its purpose—both stood blank.
"…"
Silence reigned within, devoid of reply.
"Have I arrived too soon?"
Kagura pondered, leaning against the window aglow with a blood-red sunset, waiting some seven or eight minutes.
Yet Yukino-shita's silhouette failed to appear. Instead, tales of the old schoolhouse—gossip and ghostly lore—began to bubble unbidden from his depths, stirring unease.
Knock, knock! Kagura tapped again, met once more with silence. Tentatively, he nudged the door, marveling as it yielded unlocked, swinging ajar with ease.
"…What in blazes?"
Kagura peered through the crack, then flung the door wide and stepped within.
The blazing sunset had baked the chamber for hours. Untouched through the spring holiday, it bore the musty scent of mold and dust. The curtains—worn cotton-linen relics scavenged from who-knows-where—radiated warmth from the sun's embrace…
Kagura surveyed the room with keen interest, but as his gaze fell upon the rear wall, his pupils contracted to pinpricks.