At an airport somewhere in the United States—
"Nao-san, you're really not coming back with me?"
Yukima Azuma asked with a half-smile, his tone light.
Hayasaka Nao gave him an exasperated look, her patience clearly wearing thin.
She had been sent abroad by the Shinomiya Group.
Returning to Japan wasn't as simple as booking a ticket—it would mean walking right into the jaws of the higher-ups waiting to pin blame on her.
And besides…
Azuma had dumped all the work on her.
If she left, who was going to establish the company? Handle the investments? Push through the "Titanic" deal?
In short—Yukima Azuma was full of crap, and she knew it.
Not that she could say it out loud. After all, she had made him wait half a day during their first meeting, until his arm had gone numb from holding it out.
A little petty payback wasn't uncalled for.
Azuma caught the irritation in her expression and grinned, clearly amused.
"Well, everything now depends on you, Nao-san. I really can't thank you enough."
"If you're feeling stressed," he added, "go ahead and take some money from the company's account and treat yourself. I'll pretend I didn't notice."
With a casual wave, he turned and walked off toward his boarding gate.
Nao stood there watching his figure disappear, her expression slowly settling back into that composed, unreadable coolness she wore when they first met.
There was no time to waste.
Her next task: establish the company, secure the deals, finalize the Titanic investment.
Miss one beat, and they'd lose the chance forever.
But this wasn't new to Hayasaka Nao.
She was used to high-pressure work and impossible deadlines.
Back in the Shinomiya Group, she had survived under far more intense scrutiny. No matter how well she performed, she was never truly rewarded—only fed crumbs and expected to smile in gratitude.
Now, despite the grind, something felt different.
She could breathe.
She could hope.
Yukima Azuma hadn't proved himself yet.
But at least, for the first time in a long while, someone had given her a reason to believe.
The flight lasted several hours.
Yukima Azuma slept soundly in first class, no back pain, no fatigue.
He had departed on a Wednesday morning.
By the time he landed back in Japan, it was Friday evening.
Outside the airport, he flagged down a taxi and headed for home.
"School's still on break," he muttered to himself, staring out the window. "But with the way Kirisu-sensei's been glaring, Monday's gonna be rough."
"I wonder how Shiratamaru's doing… Megumi's watching him, so it should be fine."
He unlocked the door to his apartment, half-expecting total darkness.
Instead, the entrance light was still on.
"Senpai… did you leave the light on for me?"
The soft glow lit up the staircase.
Azuma couldn't help but smile.
He'd never liked being alone.
Especially after being reborn into this world, solitude hit differently. It sometimes felt like the entire universe had forgotten he existed.
That loneliness had been unbearable when his memories first returned.
Thankfully, that was when he met Kasumigaoka Utaha.
Using his knowledge from his previous life, he shamelessly pursued her—and won her over.
Then came Eriri.
And then…
As his thoughts drifted, his eyes fell on three pairs of leather shoes neatly lined up at the entrance.
Azuma: "…?"
He switched into indoor slippers and stepped quietly into the living room.
What he saw made him freeze.
All three girls were fast asleep on the sofa in complete disarray.
Kasumigaoka Utaha was curled up along the armrest, her nightgown riding slightly up. Her long legs, sheathed in black tights, gleamed under the light—graceful and utterly captivating.
Azuma thought, Senpai's legs might be longer than my lifespan.
Next to her, Eriri had thrown elegance to the wind.
Her head rested comfortably on Utaha's lap, her lips slightly parted, a small trail of drool glistening on her chin.
Her trademark golden twin tails were undone, her hair falling freely around her shoulders. Her shirt was worn lopsidedly—collarbone peeking above, a soft, flat belly exposed below.
Her stomach gently rose and fell with each breath, calm and rhythmic.
And in the corner—
Kato Megumi lay curled up, knees drawn to her chest in a quiet, ladylike position. But gravity had pulled her pleated skirt up to her stomach, revealing far more than was appropriate.
Shiratamaru was nestled on top of her, curled into a warm little ball.
Azuma stared at the scene for a long moment, his heart quietly softening.
He hesitated—should he carry all three to bed? Or maybe just get a blanket?
Before he could decide, Kato Megumi slowly opened her eyes.
Their gazes met.
She blinked once, looked down, and calmly fixed her skirt.
Then she smoothed her shirt, adjusted her collar, and stood up quietly.
"…Welcome home," she whispered, her voice gentle and a bit embarrassed.
Her cheeks were flushed, the blush growing even more visible under the soft lights.
"Thanks for holding down the fort," Azuma said softly. "You should sleep in the room tonight."
"I'm fine. I should probably head home—"
"Don't be silly. Do you know what time it is?"
"But…"
"This isn't your first time staying here, right? So don't worry about it."
"…Okay."
"I'll prep the guest room. There are fresh sheets and blankets—make yourself comfortable."
"Thank you."
She followed behind him with small, quiet steps.
There were plenty of guest rooms in Azuma's apartment, all cleaned regularly.
All he had to do was grab a fresh set of bedding from the closet, and the room was ready.
Kato Megumi took the sheets into her arms, her small face nearly buried in them.
"Thank you, Azuma-san."
"Sleep well. Sweet dreams."
"You too. Good night."
After Azuma closed the door behind her, Megumi hugged the pillow and blanket to her chest, her cheeks glowing a faint pink.
Her small ears peeked out from her hair, tinted the same warm shade.