CHAPTER 1 — PART 8: NEET GOES OUT WITH GIRLS!

It was the end of school, and I was surprised I had even survived the day. It had been a while since I attended a normal... well, a "school" of sorts.

That orange-haired guard from the first day glared at me as I stood at the entrance. I glared back at her. "Is there a problem?"

"Cocky bastard, I'll slit your throat, you damned man!"

"Woah, calm your tits! If you have any."

"I'll kill you right here and now!!"

I smirked as I materialized a light sword from my hands.

As soon as her spear tried to touch me, my light sword just cut through it like melted butter. I was even surprised by it. How did Oharu's swords withstand my light then?

She was definitely powerful...

"WHAAAH!? MY PRECIOUS HEIRLOOM!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!"

Oh boy...

She even dramatically dropped to her knees, holding it as if her precious loved one had died.

I frowned a bit, took a step back, and let her mourn her... spear?

"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING!? YOU HAVE TO SAVE HIM! MY LOVER!! PLEASEEEEE!!"

She tugged at my sleeve, making me look at her in disdain. She had tears and a very expressive face. I was thrown off.

"H—Hey!! Stop shaking me!!! I'm getting dizzy, you asshole!!" I yanked off her grip, dusting off imaginary dirt.

"I don't think there's anything I can do... I'm not a smith, nor do I have metal... magic."

"Waaahhhhh!"

I flinched at her little kid whine. I was extremely uncomfortable and awkward...

'Geez... can you shut her up, Master?' Amai sighed.

Hey, what am I supposed to do?

'I dunno, maybe say something like... I'll buy you a new one or something.'

Are you deadass? What if that thing is expensive as hell!?

'Are you forgetting I'm a living sword? I know how much that spear costs, just tell her already! My ears are bleeding!!'

I rubbed my temple and gazed at the whining dumbass. "Hey, quit it... I'll buy you a new one, okay?"

"Really?"

"Y—yeah... just simmer down."

I didn't know at the time that I dug my own grave.

"Then get me a new Argent Spire... if you can find any...." The orange-haired girl said, a bit pissed off.

"A what now?"

HUUUUH!? Did she just... say, Argent Spire!?

Oh boy... sounds like trouble...

Trouble!? You're royally f—f... screwed... Amai paused; I noticed she was shaking; I could feel it in my head.

Hey! Stop that! My head hurts!

Master... we might want to change our names and move countries, just my humble advice.

Why!? Explain it to me!!

Ummm... well... hehehe... Argent Spire is a national treasure... owned by a massive, powerful, and wealthy clan... if this girl truly had it... that means she's the daughter of the leader... the Kuroda clan.

I flinched as I heard that clan name. I knew of it... actually, who wouldn't know of them!?

They held most of the network trading routes, held the media by the throat, almost like a fancy yakuza clan. Were they criminals? Who fucking knows! The media said otherwise!

My eyes landed on this girl, looking at me expectantly.

Mega giga gulp...

"S—say... what's your name?"

She looked at me, confused, but answered me anyway. "I'm Ichisa Kuroda."

"K—Kuroda?"

Why is this school full of big shots!??

"Yes... is there a problem with that? Huh?" Ichisa glared at me.

"N—No! No problem at all, lady..."

I noticed a vein popping on her forehead.

"Don't speak to me like that! I'm not delicate!" Ichisa stomped the floor like a kid throwing a tantrum.

"W—well, knowing you're from a big ass clan, wouldn't you want me to treat you like so?"

Ichisa's expression turned grim. "Shut up, don't label me with those... psychos."

"Hah?" I looked puzzled, and Ichisa knew I didn't comprehend her.

"I ran away, I'm not a Kuroda anymore."

I sighed in relief, and Amai sighed too.

"You fucker!" She retorted to my sigh.

"Relax, I'll do what I can, okay? I suppose I owe you that much..." Was that too presumptuous of me to buy her half the country? Nah, I'll find a way, I always do, besides... heheheheh.

'Master, using your Mother for this matter may cause a massive clan war. I advise you not to even try it.'

Welp, I did what I could!

"I'll hold you to it!" Ichisa got really close to my face, with that expectant look in her eyes. Did I mention she's kinda cute?

"Y—yeah... I'll... do my best."

With that, Ichisa went back to her post, holding her spear carefully.

After a few minutes of thinking about how to bail Ichisa out, Oharu finally decided to appear.

"You're hella late." I groaned.

"Shut up, worm—Yami..." Oharu rubbed her nose ridge, annoyed already.

"What took you so long?" I asked, trying to make any form of conversation.

"It's none of your business." Oharu's cheeks lit up a bit, and she looked away.

She had spent an hour in the restroom trying to look as good as possible, you know, girl stuff.

"Anyway."

Oharu groaned, annoyed that I dismissed it so swiftly.

"Someone else might join us."

"What? Wasn't it just you and me?" For some reason, her expression seemed disappointed.

"Oh, talking about the angel."

"It's devil, you simpleton!"

"I meant what I said!"

Teruko's brightness was easily seen from afar; she was running towards us with that sun-like smile.

"Heeyaa!" Teruko almost crashed into me, and I laughed nervously.

"You're here; you're also late."

"Sorry about that! I was suddenly tasked by my sensei to clean the classroom."

"Teruko-san?"

"Oh! Oharu-chan!!" Teruko wrapped her arms around Oharu, excitedly bumping into her, almost like dry humping her. It looked so damn comical but somehow lewd.

This looks... a bit lewd.

Hearing my thoughts, Teruko looked back towards me and grinned. "You perv."

I looked away, whistling like a bumbling fool.

"Hey, Teruko-san, let go."

"Sorry, sorry!" She chuckled.

"So, you damn fool, what's the plan? Why did you invite us here?"

I looked back at Oharu and smirked a bit devilishly. "Well, remember the stakes? If you lose against me?"

Oharu flinched, her face flushed crimson red. "Unfortunately... I remember."

Teruko had a blank expression.

"Confused, Teruko-san? Let me explain: if she won, I would've given her Oracle. If I won, she would become my personal slave."

"Oh, my God! That's hilarious! So, Oharu-chan is your sex slave! HA!"

Oharu spat blood comically as she imagined us entangled in a bed, flowers everywhere. "W—What!? I never agreed to that!!"

"Woah, slow down Teruko! That's a bit too much!" I never thought Teruko was this shameless...

"Well, isn't that what a personal slave is? From the manga I read, the owner always—"

"I'm going to stop you right there! And what kind of manga do you read!?"

"The funny kind!"

I'm having an aneurysm as we speak...

"A—anyway... I just wanted to go to the mall."

"The mall?" Oharu's chest was tight.

Was he intending on going on a date with me!? Teruko... Oharu glared daggers at Teruko.

Teruko picked up on her thoughts, laughing nervously. "Oops..."

"Let's get down to it. From now on, you'll call me 'Master'! You wouldn't want to break your word now, would you?" An evil smirk formed on my face, evoking the aura of a true antagonist.

Teruko was caught off guard by my declaration, and she burst into laughter, much to Oharu's increased embarrassment.

Oharu clenched her teeth, her face turning a deep shade of red. "Master..." The word sounded rigid, but I'll take it! A once-queen reduced to the role of a slave.

As Oharu reluctantly addressed me as "Master," a sense of mischievous satisfaction washed over me. I relished the idea of turning the tables on Oharu after her endless taunts. She clenched her teeth and mumbled the title, clearly disliking the situation.

"Good, good. Now that you've accepted your new role, let's have some fun, shall we?" I couldn't stop grinning. I still had a grudge; I would bring justice to my father's name like this! I knew he'd be so proud of me!

"Ughh... What do you have in mind.... M-Master..." Oharu wanted to vomit.

Let's skip the walk and go to the fun part!

Inside the mall, we walked side by side, and Teruko followed behind us with curiosity.

"First of all, let's have something to eat. I'm starving."

"Seems... normal enough." Oharu couldn't shake her suspicion of me, and with good reason!

I had an evil plan just for her~

"Oh! I want pizza!" Teruko exclaimed happily.

"I'll pass on that. I am on a diet, I have to keep my image clean."

"Yeah, I don't think so. I order you to eat pizza with us." I commanded her.

Oharu popped a vein in her forehead. "Hah? Shall I slit your throat, right here?"

Amai materialized before her, glaring her down. "Try it."

Oharu backed off, gulping nervously.

"Just listen to your owner, or is it too hard for you to follow orders?" Amai grinned maliciously.

Woah... I've never seen Amai like this, she was my perfect partner in crime~! We were made to be!

"I... well... fine..." Oharu's pride was shattered.

Oh, how sweet is that~

Teruko laughed wryly. "Yikes... Your thoughts are really loud, you know?"

Anyway, we went to the food stalls and ordered pizzas.

"Ugh... you're one of those weirdos who put pineapple on pizza? I'm going to slit your throat." Oharu was disgusted by my taste.

"Screw you, pineapple on pizza is divine! A creation from God himself!!" I declared with no hesitation.

"I... agree with Oharu-chan here, sweet and salty don't mix well." Teruko shook her head.

"Hmph! You, ladies, don't know ball, it seems."

"B—Ball?" Teruko was confused by my slang.

"Peasant talk, it seems." Oharu was feeling cocky today. Does she not know that I could straight up make her do anything?

"You're testing my patience, Oharu~" I cooed in a sweet yet dangerous tone.

Oharu's expression crunched up into disgust but curiosity; she knew I was some sort of shut-in NEET and a hikikomori, so it was probably for her own good to be nicer.

The pizzas finally arrived, and we began eating quietly.

"So, what's your actual plan? M—Master..."

I just gave her a simple grin.

We stood outside a certain store, one specifically for cosplayers.

Oharu was shaking in fear, seeing all the suggestive clothes and underwear.

Teruko was laughing her ass off; she definitely wanted to see where this would go.

"Y—You're.... not thinking of making me wear—" Oharu's voice trembled.

"I am, I have a list, and I will take pictures too~."

Amai was sitting on my shoulder, grinning with me, holding my phone.

"First and foremost, Shrine Maiden outfit~ Chop chop!"

It was those famous Kitsune costumes featuring the white kimono top and red hakama, those shrine maidens! But this kimono was... very open, for the eyes.

It showed way too much skin, and I wanted to see it on Oharu.

Oharu's face blazed with steam and embarrassment; she gazed at Amai, then looked away in defeat.

We all entered the store, and I picked up the costume and shoved it into her hands.

She entered the fitting room and took a while.

Teruko and I listened to the sounds of rustling and whining.

The fitting room curtain slid open.

And there she was.

Oharu.

For a second, my brain just stopped.

The shrine maiden outfit fit her way too well. The white cloth and red trim made her look clean and holy at first glance, but the way she stood made that feeling fall apart fast. She looked elegant, cold, and way too pretty for her own good.

Her almost white-blue hair fell neatly down her back, with that single darker strand near her ear. The red ribbon tied in her hair made her look even more refined. Her pale skin almost glowed under the fitting room lights, and her deep blue eyes were just as cold as ever.

But what got me was her expression.

She looked embarrassed.

Really embarrassed.

Her lips were tight, like she wanted to keep her calm, but it wasn't working very well. Her face had that strange mix of pride and shy discomfort, like she hated how much attention the outfit pulled in, but also couldn't stop herself from standing there anyway.

And the shrine maiden's clothes... damn.

They showed off her body more than I expected. The sleeves hung loose, the red-and-white design made her look even more delicate, and the whole thing gave her a strange beauty that was hard to ignore.

And the worst parts... the top kimono was almost non-existent, like a wannabe bikini, and the red hakama was... extremely short and split on the sides, I could even tell she wasn't wearing panties...

My mouth went dry.

This was supposed to be revenge, right?

Yeah. Sure.

But looking at her like this felt dangerous for my sanity.

"Oharu..." I muttered, staring before I could stop myself.

She looked at me through narrowed eyes, still red in the face, and forced out a stiff little smile.

It was clearly the kind of smile someone makes when they're trying not to explode.

And somehow, that made her even more dangerous.

"It suits you to a tee."

"Wow... hey, Yami, I can read your thoughts, you know? You're creeping me out..." Teruko laughed wryly.

"Waah!? Stop reading my mind!! Please!!" I got red like a squashed tomato.

With a shy voice, Oharu gazed at Teruko. "W—What is... Master thinking about?"

"You... don't want to know..."

Silence...

I killed it by talking. "T—This isn't over yet, I have a list of clothes, remember?"

"Master, I already took the picture~ Next outfit!" Amai had already snapped a picture.

I walked to an aisle and brought the next outfit to Oharu.

"A—Are you serious!? This... is..."

"Do it..."

She let out a cute whine.

Back into the fitting room.

The fitting room curtain slid open again.

And this time, Oharu was in a maid outfit.

My eyes widened.

It was a completely different look from the shrine maiden's. The soft frills, the black-and-white design, the little headpiece... it should have made her look cute and harmless.

But Oharu was Oharu.

She stood there stiffly, one hand on her chest, her face burning red with embarrassment. Her almost white-blue hair fell straight down her back, and that cold blue gaze of hers looked like it wanted to kill me for noticing too much.

Still... this one fit her differently.

The maid's outfit gave her a strange kind of charm. Less elegant shrine maiden, more strict and awkward maid who clearly hated being seen like this. That made it worse somehow.

I stared for a second too long.

Not because she looked bad.

No, that was the problem.

She looked good in a totally different way.

The shrine maiden's outfit had been graceful and refined. This maid outfit was cute, nervous, and way more personal. It made her look like the kind of girl who would act annoyed, but secretly care way too much about every little thing.

To top it off, it was basically a bikini.

That was the kind of cosplay I liked.

Different tastes, I guess.

One costume made her feel like an untouchable noble.

The other made her feel like she might actually crack if I teased her one more time.

"Oharu..." I muttered, trying not to grin.

Her face went even redder.

She looked away for a second, then forced herself to stare back at me with that same cold glare.

It was obvious she hated this.

Which meant I liked it a little too much.

"I—I'm going to... murder you... hmmmm... in your damn... sleep..." Oharu was hissing shyly, but also cold.

"In that case, next outfit!"

Again, I went to another aisle and found an even more revealing one!

She almost threw a punch at my handsome face.

The fitting room curtain slid closed, then opened in a few minutes.

I instantly regretted being alive.

Oharu stood there in a cat-girl cosplay, and my brain nearly short-circuited.

The outfit was tiny, playful, and way too bold for someone like her. The black cat ears, the little tail, the gloves, the stockings... it all made her look like she had walked straight out of a dangerous hentai fantasy and into my poor, weak heart.

Her almost white-blue hair spilled down her back like snow under moonlight. Her cheeks were red, and her cold blue eyes were glaring at me like she wanted to kill me for looking.

I felt my face heat up so fast it should've been illegal.

"H-Huh...?"

My nose twitched.

No way.

No way, no way, no way—

A tiny line of blood ran out of my nose.

"Ugh..."

Of course.

Of course this happened!!!!

Oharu's face turned even redder when she saw my reaction. She hugged herself a little tighter, looking annoyed and embarrassed at the same time.

"What is that look supposed to mean?" she snapped, trying to sound cold, but her voice shook just a little.

I quickly turned my head away, but that only made it worse.

This was bad.

Really bad.

Because now I knew something important.

I had a weakness.

And Oharu, in a cat-girl outfit, was exactly that weakness.

This realization hit Oharu like a train.

Her chest tightened, her eyes widened, but it was a good feeling, being seen, not as this cold-hearted princess, and seeing me have a nosebleed was ecstatic, fulfilling...

This was her way to get back at me; her embarrassment gave way to sadism and pride.

"Oh~? Is someone having a hard... time~?"

What in the hell...? Did she just... mean my... "thing"!?

Teruko-san blushed and watched.

Oharu dragged me inside the fitting room, pinning me between her and the mirror. Both her hands were placed beside my head, forcing me to gaze at her, and her... nice mounds were extremely close to my face...

And her grin...

That seductive and sadistic grin...

It caused my internal hard drive to corrupt!

"I have you where I want you~ No, where you belong~."

Her right hand slowly went to my neck and closed in on it, making me flinch.

WAIT!! MY SAFE WORD!! I DON'T HAVE A SAFE WORD!!

"This is payback for everything you made me wear!"

"Okay! Okay! You win!! I give up!!"

Her grin widened. "I refuse~ I want to see you squirm, Master~."

I began struggling against her hold; the curtains were moving a lot during our little fight. Managing to get out, I tripped, and so did Oharu...

She was straddling me... on my hips, making me explode like a tomato being shot with a .50 caliber.

My eyes felt a looming presence behind me. I gazed up at them, and there I saw them...

Shizue had a dark expression.

Teruko giggled nervously.

Hotaru had the same old monotone expression, but with a pink hue on her cheeks.

And Katsumi looked away bashfully.

"H—Hey... there, what a surprise to see you all... here..."

Silence...

Yeah, I expected as much...

Oharu stood up in a flash, did a 180, and hid herself in the fitting room.

Leaving me alone with Shizue's barrage of insults.