Clatter, clatter.

Keeping a steady rhythm, the retro streetcar glided along its tracks. The view from the window of Kumamoto’s beloved city tram, known simply as the shiden, carried a faint sense of nostalgia. Even the proud silhouette of the famous castle, Kumashiro Castle, where the sounds of reconstruction still echoed, was now dyed in the crimson hues of evening.

I, Ayabe Yuuma, was gazing blankly at such shifting scenery.

A time when no one could interrupt me, drifting freely through the sea of thought. I loved this moment more than anything else.

Being alone. That was my peace and ultimate happiness.

…Well, that happiness usually ended up being destroyed by someone, though.

“Ah, um, Ayabe-senpai!”

There it is.

From the seat beside me, a bright, clear voice called out. I turned to find a petite girl in a Hinokuma High School uniform gazing up at me, her cheeks faintly flushed.

Nanakusa Shizuku, my junior on the track team. Her short bob of lustrous black hair bounced slightly with the Shiden’s sway.

“Senpai, um… are you free this Sunday?”

Looking up at me with her eyes—humans’ ultimate weapon against men. Her moist gaze waited patiently for my response.

(Not again…)

Yuuma sighed deeply in his mind, a sigh that could reach the Mariana Trench.

Sunday is the day when I can fully enjoy time without anyone interrupting me. That was my golden routine—a sacred domain no one should intrude upon…!

A roar for freedom echoed within his mind. But before him stood his junior’s sparkling eyes filled with expectation. Could he cloud them?

No, it was impossible.

“Ah, yeah. I’m free.”

An immediate answer. No hesitation at all.

A cry from my soul, crushed by reality.

“Really!?! Yay! I’m so happy!”

Shizuku beamed with a full smile and did a small fist pump. Her innocent joy pierced Yuuma’s chest like a thorn. The warm light of her sunlit smile reached deep into his heart.

(No, no… It’s my fault for being carried away…)

His thoughts were about to spiral into self-loathing before dissipating in three seconds.

(…Wait a second? Is it humane to make a girl like that sad? That’s right, I did the right thing. This is helping someone.)

Yuuma silently nodded as his brain spun with justifications.

“…Shizuku?”

“Yes!”

“Why are you speaking in Hokkaido dialect?”

“Namara”—a word that should only be used in the northern lands. Hearing it here in Kumamoto, the Land of Fire, gave it an oddly exotic ring.

“Eh!? Isn’t this Kumamoto dialect? I searched online for ‘dialects to tell your crush how you feel,’ and…”

It seemed she had taken the top search result at face value. Her earnestness had come full circle, now bordering on endearing.

“Senpai, I really like you! So, I’m looking forward to Sunday!”

A strange hybrid dialect was born from Hokkaido and Hakata accents.

(What a hopeless junior…)

Yuuma had no energy left to mock her, offering only a dry smile. By the time the Shiden reached its next stop, his earlier self-loathing had vanished completely.

The next day, the second-year classroom at Hinokuma High School was filled with the hustle and bustle of after-school life.

“Yuuma—, wanna go to the arcade later?”

“Sorry, I’ll pass.”

Declining a friend’s invitation, Yuuma hurriedly began his preparations to return home. It was a race against time to reclaim peace as quickly as possible.

But a voice shattered that fragile hope from the classroom entrance.

“Ayabe Yuuma-kun.”

A sharp, unyielding voice.

The moment it reached the classroom, the air tensed like a taut string. Students’ whispers abruptly ceased, as if an absolute ruler had descended upon them.

Standing there was a single girl student. Her long, beautiful black hair swayed gently, and she stood with a flawless posture that left no room for criticism.

The president of Hinokuma High School, the perfect superhuman who excels in both academics and sports.

My childhood friend, Hinomiya Akana.

“Akane… why did you come all the way to the classroom?”

I tried to ask calmly, but Akane silently approached, took my smartphone from the desk, and unlocked it with practiced ease.

“Eh, wait—”

Ignoring my flustered protests, Akane tapped the screen and unlocked it.

“…Hmm.”

Akane glanced at my schedule app, her nose twitching slightly. Her eyes were sharp like those of a predator inspecting prey.

“Yuuma. This Sunday, we had agreed to volunteer for the Kumashiro Marathon, right?”

Her words carried the weight of an unchallengeable decree despite their questioning tone.

“Eh… um, no, that’s…”

I floundered. I vaguely remembered discussing something like this a week ago. At the time, I had brushed it off with my usual evasive response.

Akane manipulated my phone, typing 【Volunteering with Akane《Confirmed》】 into my Sunday’s schedule and setting an alarm.

“I’ve canceled your plans with Nanakusa-san.”

“Wha—!?”

Startled, Akane gave a soft smile. It was the kind of smile that felt like a saint’s but carried an unsettling darkness beneath it.

“Don’t worry, Yuuma. You tend to drift off in the wrong direction when I’m not around. I’ll take care of you properly.”

Without hesitation, her arms crossed around mine, and I was dragged out of the classroom as classmates’ sympathetic yet envious glances pierced my back.

Why am I like this…

As I walked beside Akane, I sank deeper into self-loathing again. But that feeling vanished instantly when she offered me a new ice cream from the convenience store she had bought, saying “Here, Yuuma. Aa—n,” and I took it, only for it to melt away completely in my mouth.

Well, it’s unavoidable. I can’t ignore my childhood friend’s kindness. Ugh, there’s no choice.

Noticing Akane’s perfectly composed expression briefly soften with satisfaction as I opened my mouth honestly, I remained unaware of the change.

After school the next day.

Alright, today I’ll definitely get home without anyone catching me.

I vowed firmly in my heart and moved toward the shoe cabinet at stealth fighter speed. Yesterday, Akane had canceled my plans with Shizuku. I felt awful about it. Next time, I need to make up for it somehow.

As I turned the corner of the hallway thinking this, I bumped into something.

No, not a wall. A sweet fragrance tickled my nose. Looking down, I saw a girl student with flashy golden hair in side-tails sitting on her butt.

“Ouch… where were you looking when you walked?”

A slightly lethargic voice. Tachibana Rena, the popular idol of another class, whose gyaru look contrasted with her excellent grades and high popularity.

“M-my bad, are you okay, Tachibana-san?”

I hastily offered my hand. Rena took it to stand up, then brushed off dust from her skirt with a pat.

“Well, it’s fine anyway… Ah, just in time. You’re Ayabe-kun, right?”

“Eh? Yeah, I am.”

“I heard math is your forte. Can you help me out for a sec? The next quiz is really tough.”

Rena leaned in with a mischievous smile, her long lashes blinking rapidly, and the sweet scent once again numbed my rationality.

(This is bad. This is a dangerous flow.)

An alarm rang in my brain. Accepting such requests usually led to trouble.

“I’m sorry, Tachibana-san. I’m not that good at…”

“Pleeease! I’m begging you here!”

Rena clapped her hands together and bowed respectfully.

“If I don’t get help, I’ll have to retake the quiz and cancel my Sunday plans with friends! It’s a lifelong request!”

(Sunday…)

That word stirred my guilt. My promise with Shizuku—canceled unilaterally by Akane.

Still, I tried one last resistance for my peace of mind.

“Um, sorry. This Sunday, I have something to do…”

“Eh…”

Rena’s eyes began to water. Large eyes threatened to spill tears like jewels any moment.

“Oh… So, Ayabe-kun is busy too… Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked…”

A voice on the verge of disappearing. Her shoulders trembled slightly as she lowered her head.

(I know this is a trap! It’s a classic tearful plea tactic… But I want to stop these tears, help her! Something inside me screams that!)

Ah, I’m done.

“…Saturday, maybe I’m free?”

By the time I realized it, the words had already slipped out of my mouth.

“Really!? Yay! Then Saturday, at the café in front of the station! You seriously saved me, Ayabe-kun!”

Rena’s face lit up as if her earlier tears were a lie. She then gave me a light “chuu” kiss on the cheek for a thank you.

“Then, see you again, Ayabe-kun! Looking forward to Saturday!”

She turned around with a twirl, giving me a mischievous wink before skipping away.

Left alone in the hallway, I collapsed where I stood.

“Why am I like this…! I just want to live peacefully!”

A mournful cry echoed emptily through the empty corridor.

But beneath that cry, the soft sensation left on my cheek and the pounding of my heart spoke of another emotion.

(This is a lie, right? I should want peace… What’s with this wild heartbeat!? It’s an unavoidable physiological phenomenon, definitely not because I’m happy… probably!)

That night.

Collapsing onto my bed in my room, I finally had some alone time.

(In the end, Saturday was studying with Tachibana-san, and Sunday was volunteering with Akane… Where did my weekend go…)

I sighed while counting the ceiling’s wood grain, but within minutes, it no longer mattered.

Well, what’s done is done. Now, I should focus on the daily mission of a social game…

As I got up from bed and grabbed my smartphone, a light notification sound rang out.

A message app notification. The sender was—Hinomiya Akane.

Feeling uneasy, I opened the message.

“Studying with Tachibana-san sounds fun.”

Short words. But behind them lay an absolute zero pressure.

And attached to the message was one file.

With trembling fingers, I tapped on it.

What appeared was a photo.

The hallway after school.

A decisive moment of Tachibana Rena kissing my cheek.

The composition was perfect. The focus was spot-on, and even the lighting from the sunset in the corridor seemed calculated like an artistic masterpiece.

And most terrifying was its resolution—so sharp and clear it felt like a professional photographer had taken it with a super telephoto lens.

Voyeurism.

Those two words flashed red in my mind.

(Hey hey, this goes beyond voyeurism, it’s the work of a professional…!?)

A chill ran down my spine.

The composition was perfect, the focus flawless, and even the backlighting from the sunset had been calculated! What high-performance equipment are you using!? And why am I being monitored so thoroughly!?

In the oppressive atmosphere, another message arrived.

“About that matter, I’ll ask you in detail tomorrow. Can you explain it properly?”

I was certain this weekend wouldn’t be just a busy one. It was merely the prelude to my peaceful daily life crumbling.

“…Why, me…”

The words of lament were never finished.

The sound of the lid opening on hell’s cauldron was drawing ever closer.