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Isagi Yoichi yawned—long, slow, and utterly defeated. She sat slouched on the sofa, trying to keep her mind awake by replaying scenes from the Neo Egoist League. She was mid–mental replay of Kaiser’s last pass when a pair of skyscraper-high stiletto boots intruded on her blurred vision. She blinked upward—only to be greeted by Kaiser herself, standing there like a fashion magazine’s idea of divine punishment.
The blonde striker wore her signature smile: elegant, arrogant, and engineered specifically to make people fall in love or fall into despair—ideally both. She leaned forward, brushing her golden hair back with a flick so practiced it should’ve come with a warning label.
“Well, well. Isn’t this a coincidence, Yoichi? Since fate brought us together… shouldn’t you, as a respectful teammate, give me a tour?”
Isagi blinked sleepy eyes at her. Kaiser immediately flushed—mortifying, really—but Isagi simply yawned again and said, “But the Neo Egoist League is over. We’re not teammates anymore.”
Kaiser’s smile stalled like a crashed computer. A tiny vein in her temple began a steady revolt. “Wow. Brutal. Really, Yoichi? After the beautiful collaboration during the match? After everything you said to me at the—”
Isagi suddenly stood up. Because Kaiser had leaned in too close, the motion brought them practically nose-to-nose. If Isagi was mildly startled, Kaiser was experiencing a full spiritual event. Her ears went red, her breath caught, her dignity shed itself and fled the scene. However, Isagi simply turned to leave.
Kaiser seized her wrist.
Both of them froze—Isagi in confusion, Kaiser in horror at her own reflexive betrayal of her pride. Isagi blinked at her. “…What are you doing here?” she asked, genuinely trying to understand reality.
Kaiser let out a laugh that sounded like a dying violin string. “What—Yoichi, I have been standing here for a full minute. Only now do you question my existence?”
Her temper spiked—again. The German striker had spent half the week losing sleep over Yoichi’s maddeningly gentle expression, ranting at Ness until Ness had offered to buy earplugs. She had dropped enough hints about wanting to travel, having free time, having an extra ticket, being emotionally available, being literally one invitation away from eloping—and Yoichi had absorbed absolutely none of it.
Was she stupid? Was she evil? Was she trying to take years off Kaiser’s life span?
Then Isagi looked up at her, and the light caught on the loose bun of black hair. Her sea-blue eyes were wide and gentle, her expression soft enough to cave in the average person’s defenses. Her outfit radiated the pure, devastating charm of a cute high-school girl who had absolutely no idea she was lethal.
Kaiser’s brain simply vaporized.
No. No. Too cute. Shut it down. This should require a license. Someone arrest her. Better—arrest ME before I commit an emotional felony in broad daylight.
Determined not to reveal even a fraction of her spiraling thoughts, Kaiser stiffened her shoulders, schooled her face into aristocratic disinterest, and pretended the very existence of Yoichi’s cuteness wasn’t rearranging her internal organs.
Before Kaiser could recover even 1% composure, Ness marched forward; her steps too fast, her breathing uneven, her entire posture was screaming panic, jealousy, devotion, denial. She lifted her phone like it was a holy scripture and—true to form—blurted out nonsense at full volume.
“Yoichi! H-Hurry up and agree to go out with Kaiser-sama and me! Quickly! Immediately! Just say yes!”
Kaiser nearly choked on her own oxygen. WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT OUT LOUD? DO YOU IDIOT HAVE ANY SURVIVING BRAIN CELLS?!
Isagi, oblivious as ever, tilted her head. The tilt alone detonated two hearts simultaneously.
“But your Shibuya guide is much more detailed than mine,” she said calmly. “I don’t really have a plan—I’m just wandering.”
She leaned closer to look at Ness’s screen. And Ness suddenly short-circuited. Her knees buckled. She stumbled backward from sheer flustered shock, tripped over her own heel, and began to fall straight toward the marble floor.
Isagi moved instantly.
Despite being shorter, she caught Ness around the waist with surprisingly steady hands, stopping the tall girl’s full collapse. The momentum brought Ness’s entire height folding down into Isagi’s arms—an accidental, full-body embrace that would have killed a weaker soul on impact.
Ness’s breath hitched. Her heart practically attempted to exit her body through her throat.
“Y-Yoichi…!” she choked, face burning scarlet as she clung instinctively to the girl who had just saved her from eating pavement. “You—you traitorously soft creature…!”
Her voice trembled somewhere between outrage, adoration, and emotional cardiac arrest.
“I—I won’t betray Kaiser-sama!” she declared loudly into Isagi’s shoulder, while absolutely refusing to let go. “Even if you hold me like that—and—and—”
She gripped tighter, contradicting every syllable she spoke.
Meanwhile Isagi simply steadied Ness and said, in a tone of mild concern, “Be careful. You nearly fell.”
Isagi simply helped her stand and stepped back, utterly oblivious to the emotional catastrophe she’d just caused.
Obviously, Ness wanted to speak more; but Kaiser, unwilling to surrender even a single inch of emotional ground, swooped in with the predatory grace of a jealous falcon who hadn’t eaten in days. “So. Yoichi. About that walk. Maybe I’ll help you pick out clothes that don’t look like you borrowed them from the overgrown toddlers’ section. And if I’m feeling exceptionally generous…” She tossed her hair, pretending she didn’t need the reaction she was fishing for. “…I might even buy you something worthy of being seen with me.”
Isagi, sweet summer child that she was, only blinked. “I like my clothes.”
Kaiser’s soul took immediate, irreversible damage.
Isagi continued, oblivious. She glanced at Kaiser’s cropped jacket, her painted-on miniskirt, the knee-high stiletto boots—and then very conspicuously did not look at the deep, unapologetic cleavage. “Your style just… isn’t for me.”
Kaiser’s mind detonated like a grenade inside a jewelry box.
Isn’t for me??? Isn’t for ME??? Was Yoichi saying she didn’t like Kaiser’s style? HER painstakenly crafted femme-fatale, kill-your-rivals, seduce-your-enemies aesthetic?? HER signature look that NSFWs entire stadiums??
Kaiser’s voice shot three octaves higher. “THANK YOU, I DIDN’T ASK.”
Her phone charm—a tiny green sprout she had bought because she irrationally thought about Yoichi’s sprouts on her head when looking at it—rattled like a last breath. Her grip tightened so hard she nearly snapped the casing.
“Stop acting like I care about your approval!” Kaiser blurted, each word drenched in desperate self-defense. “I’m simply stating a fact! Objectively! Scientifically! Your fashion sense is—subpar!”
“I just meant it doesn’t suit me,” Isagi said slowly, thoroughly confused. “That’s all.”
Kaiser forced a laugh that sounded like a cracked violin string. “H-ha. Ha. Obviously. Of course it’s not for you. Why would I expect you to appreciate refined taste? I certainly don't care if you dislike my style. Why would I? Ha! Ha…!”
The black-haired girl turned again, and Kaiser grabbed her again, quicker this time, like a reflex honed through sheer emotional desperation.
“Yoichi! Are you seriously pretending not to know us? With social skills like this, how do you expect to keep anyfriends?”
“…Fine,” Isagi sighed, already defeated by exhaustion. “I’m just getting milk tea. If you insist on following me, I can’t stop you.”
A single sentence from Yoichi blossomed into a full-blown romantic delusion within Kaiser. Within half a second, she had transformed the moment into a sweeping cinematic confession in her mind:
“Kaiser… I-I want to get milk tea with you… alone… If you want to come… I won’t stop you…”
Yoichi had, in reality, spoken like someone too tired to fight gravity. But in Kaiser’s head, the girl had practically clutched her sleeve and whispered a shy date invitation. The script rewrote itself automatically with the precision of a high-speed printer connected directly to Kaiser’s thirst-addled imagination.
Yoichi shyly invites Michella out for a date because she can’t admit she wants, the headline in her brain declared. Too flustered to confess, she uses “milk tea” as a pretext to spend time together…
Yes. Perfect. Absolutely correct. Undeniably factual.
Kaiser nodded to herself, satisfied with this entirely fabricated interpretation that aligned beautifully with her worldview. Reality was flexible; narrative was powerful; and Yoichi’s “Fine, do whatever you want” obviously meant “Please stay with me, Michella.”
She lifted her chin with regal pride, her delusion shining like holy armor.
“Well,” she murmured under her breath, “if you insists, Yoichi…”
Walking beside Yoichi, Kaiser spotted the lack of bags in Isagi’s hands and seized the opportunity like a hunter spotting prey. She gave a regal little cough—one meant to sound effortless, practiced, vaguely superior—and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, slid her fingers neatly between Isagi’s.
Isagi jolted like someone had hooked a car battery to her spine. Kaiser, of course, interpreted this exactly the way she wanted to.
Kaiser sniffed, schooling her face into aristocratic boredom even as her pulse skidded dangerously.
“It’s only holding hands,” she drawled. “Don’t make it weird.”
Inside, however, she was radiant with triumph. Fantasy, according to Michella “Professional Delusionist” Kaiser: a shy maiden quivering under the touch of her destined lover.
Isagi, trying to explain herself before the situation became stranger, said softly, “Only lovers hold hands in Japan…”
She meant the statement literally because she felt kinda uncomfortable and really need Kaiser to understand the social context of holding hands. But Kaiser heard exactly none of that. Her eyes brightened like someone had lit fireworks behind them.
“Oh?” she purred, her voice dipped in honey as she tightened her grip possessively around Isagi’s hand. “How adorable.”
While Kaiser and Ness waited outside, Isagi slipped into the shop to pick up the drinks. Ness spent the entire time pacing in tiny circles like a malfunctioning Roomba, then finally gathered enough courage—and delusion—to speak.
“K-Kaiser-sama… the restaurant you booked is for two. Should we… add another seat?”
The blonde didn’t even bother turning her head. She spared Ness a queenly, indifferent glance. “Ness, you can eat independently. You know that, right?”
Translation:
Absolutely not. This is MY date. I will not add seating for anyone.
Before Ness could argue, Isagi returned, holding two bags—four drinks total. She offered a polite bow. “See you,” she said simply.
Then she walked away.
Straight. Away.
Without her, Michaella Kaiser.
Kaiser stood frozen for approximately half a second before panic hijacked every muscle in her body. Her legs acted on their own, sprinting her forward like a deranged golden retriever.
“YOICHI! Why do you have FOUR drinks?! Where are you going?! With WHO?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘SEE YOU’? WHEN WILL YOU SEE ME?!”
Isagi blinked at her. “I’m here with friends.”
Then, as if remembering she had forgotten to tell Kaiser the weather forecast or the boiling point of water, she added, “Oh—right. I didn’t mention that earlier. I’m out with—”
She didn’t finish.
Because two arms suddenly wrapped around her waist.
“Yoichi!”
Isagi startled. “Hiori?”
Hiori Yo hugged her tightly—possessively, even—with the serene menace of someone who knew she was winning. “We were looking everywhere for you,” she said softly, as if Kaiser weren’t ten feet away imploding at molecular speed. Hiori casually took one of the bags. “These two are ours, right?”
Before Kaiser could scream at the sky, Yukimiya appeared on Isagi’s left, Kurona on her right.
The protection formation was instant, elegant, and dripping with territorial hostility.
Isagi, perfectly calm, gestured at the three surrounding her like it was an ordinary Tuesday. “I’m with them. We’ve still got plans today. So… maybe you two should enjoy yourselves if you have other plans?”
Kaiser’s smile flickered like a dying light bulb. She was not jealous, not at all. She was simply experiencing extreme aesthetic distress at seeing Yoichi surrounded by three dramatically inferior girls. That was all. Completely normal.
With a smile stretched thin enough to be considered a cry for help, she announced, “It’s fine, Yoichi. Naturally we’ll go with you.”
“Yes,” Ness echoed before snatching Isagi’s hand like she was saving her from drowning. She then turned on Hiori with all the dignity of a furious poodle. “AND YOU—stop clinging to her!”
Hiori’s expression softened into an innocent angelic smile—one designed specifically to infuriate Ness. “Isagi-chan didn’t say anything. Why are you being so demanding?” Even her tone was fake sweet, as if she herself were the victim here.
Ness nearly swallowed her own tongue. The nerve! The audacity! How dare this cyan-haired fox act bullied when she was clearly the one stealing Yoichi’s warmth, attention, and bag of drinks?!
Ness shot a death glare at Hiori… then another one at Isagi, who was sincerely, earnestly, stupidly assessing the situation like this was a normal social disagreement instead of a romantic battlefield drenched in jealousy and suppressed violence.
Yoichi is such a charming witch! Ness’s fists clenched. She stole my winning pass to Kaiser-sama AND my heart—and now she’s surrounded by all these shameless girls like some kind of playboy!!
Ness nearly combusted on the spot.
Finally, mercifully for everyone’s blood pressure, Kaiser snapped. She yanked Ness back behind her like she was reclaiming a lost dog and planted herself between Isagi and the three “friends(?)” blocking her path.
She flipped her hair with all the smug entitlement of a villainess declaring a duel. “Now,” she said sharply, “let’s go, Yoichi.”
The moment they stepped into the clothing store, Kaiser’s patience—already fragile—hit its expiration date. She took one look at the outfit Isagi’s friends had chosen for her and audibly clicked her tongue.
“What,” Kaiser demanded slowly, “are these… crimes.”
Isagi stood there in a white sundress, a denim jacket, and a soft beret perched delicately on her head. Her dark hair was braided loosely over one shoulder, giving her the exact aesthetic of a small-town sweetheart who bakes cookies for stray cats and accidentally wins the hearts of every neighbor on the block.
Kaiser stared too long, long enough to betray herself. So, she ripped her gaze away like she’d been burned.
“This is—this is a talentless outfit,” she sputtered. “A fashion war crime. Who did this? Why is there a braid? Why do you look like you’re about to hand out charity bake-sale flyers at a church fundraiser?”
Isagi blinked at her, perfectly calm. “Yukimiya said it looked cute.”
It did look cute. Disgustingly cute. Unfairly cute. Kaiser’s heart had reacted accordingly—by attempting to exit her body.
“Yukimiya,” Kaiser muttered with venomous elegance, “has the fashion instincts of an elderly librarian with cataracts.”
“Hey, don’t talk meanly about my friend,” Isagi frowned and somehow made her even cuter, which enraged Kaiser on a spiritual level because she absolutely refused to acknowledge such truths.
Before Isagi could say anything else, Kaiser, imperious as ever, grabbed her wrist. “We’re fixing this. Now.”
She tugged. Isagi, however, remained rooted. Kaiser tugged harder; and Isagi didn’t move an inch.
Instead, the black-haired girl puffed her cheeks at Kaiser, glaring with the perfect blend of indignation and adorableness—her expression rounding out like an offended hamster.
That cute face made Kaiser freeze mid-pull, her heart executing an Olympic-level triple somersault. Oh no. Oh no no no. Not the hamster face. Her soul almost left her body. She was going to propose marriage on the spot if someone didn’t sedate her.
And then, from somewhere nearby, the clear, chiming melody of wedding bells drifted through the air.
Kaiser stiffened.
AM I HALLUCINATING? DID I FINALLY SNAPPED?? DID I… IMAGINE WEDDING BELLS?!
Isagi followed Kaiser’s shell-shocked stare, then glanced around. “Kaiser… why are you dragging me toward a wedding dress shop?”
Kaiser blinked. Looked up. Then, she saw the glowing, pastel-pink sign: Bridal Boutique – Seasonal Sale!
In fact, she pulled Yoichi directly toward a display of lace veils and satin gowns. The bells chimed again—the shop’s auto-looped promo music, cheerful and inescapable.
Kaiser’s face went blank.
Oh. So I wasn’t imagining it. Wonderful. I knew that I was not delusional.
She cleared her throat with all the dignity of a woman trying to pretend she hadn’t just subconsciously marched her crush toward a bridal aisle. “I—! Obviously—! This is my first time in this area! I took a wrong turn! Do I look like I’m trying to marry you?! Hah!”
Her voice cracked, but her soul cracked harder.
Kaiser quickly reclaimed Isagi’s hand, squeezing it as if reestablishing her legal claim. “Come on. Let me take you somewhere with actual style. You clearly need guidance, stupid Yoichi.”
“Isa-chin!” Yukimiya grabbed Isagi’s other hand, lower lip wobbling. His soft curls drooped pathetically. He looked like someone had stolen his puppy.
Behind him, Hiori and Kurona both stared mournfully, as though Isagi were being escorted to the gallows.
Ness, shoved out of her earlier position, snapped instantly. “Stop dragging Yoichi around like you own her! You two are completely shameless!”
“But I really was shopping with them,” Isagi said with a frown, turning to Kaiser and Ness like a tired mother separating feral children. She looked at the three crestfallen faces—Yukimiya’s teary eyes, Hiori’s sadness, Kurona’s quietly wilting expression; then she turned to Kaiser, who stood with arms folded like a glamorous villain guarding her prized hostage.
Isagi sighed.
The universe held its breath.
She patted Yukimiya’s hand, brushed a gentle knuckle along Hiori’s cheek, and rested her palm on Kurona’s head to smooth down his bangs. The three brightened instantly, eyes sparkling with devotion. After equally comforting three of them, she soothed, “I’ll walk with Kaiser and Ness first. But we’ll meet here for dinner, okay? Yo-chan, Ran-chan, Yuki… I promise.”
The moment she took one step toward Kaiser, two tall girls moved as one and trapped Isagi between them.
Naturally, Kaiser attempted to force several outfits onto Isagi in the next store: crop tops, lace-up minis, a downright illegal cut-out dress, each one rejected instantly. Each rejection stabbed Kaiser’s heart just a little more—not that she’d ever admit even a microgram of disappointment.
At least she had Ness taking pictures of every outfit for later showing off on social media.
That night, Kaiser swept into her presidential suite with the triumphant swagger of a villainess returning from a flawless conquest. Her heels clicked like victory drums. Her hair gleamed like she’d just stolen someone’s destiny. Everything about her radiated I won today.
She tossed herself onto the velvet chaise, unlocked her phone, and prepared to post the perfect selfie she had forced Ness to take earlier—her arm around Yoichi, the lighting ideal, Yoichi looking confused but cute.
Exactly the kind of photo that would give her rivals emotional whiplash. And Ness let out a shriek so high-pitched it could’ve shattered crystal stemware.
“For the LOVE of—Ness! Indoor voice!” Kaiser snapped, nearly dropping her phone. “What now?! Did you choke on your dignity?!”
“Kaiser-sama!! Just LOOK!” Ness thrust her own screen forward with trembling hands. Kaiser glanced down and froze, like, completely froze.
It was a notification from her private alt account. The one she insisted existed purely for “competitive reconnaissance and analysis of rival behavior.”Actually, it was Kaiser stalking Yoichi’s interactions while pretending she was not stalking anything.
The post was from Hiori Yo. That pick-me-for-Yoichi-only girl made her eye twitched.
She tapped the notification. A photo blossomed across the screen—beautiful, damning, and spiritually corrosive.
Isagi Yoichi was in the center, smiling gently and radiantly. HOWEVER, to her right, Hiori Yo leaned close, face soft with warmth. To her left, Yukimiya Kenyu beamed like a golden retriever in human form. Kurona Ranze peeked in from the edge with the quiet confidence of someone who had already accepted his membership in the Isagi Harem Club. All four held fizzy drinks, glasses raised in cheerful celebration.
The background was undeniably a hotel room. And Yoichi was smiling like she’d found paradise.
The caption hit harder than a penalty shot to the heart: “Day 1 of our trip with Isa-chin! Today was so fun in Shibuya! Sharing a hotel room so we’ll be roommates for a few more days. Feeling kinda happy~”
SHARING SAME ROOM??! Kaiser did not scream because She ROARED.
“Hiori Yo—Kurona Ranze—Yukimiya Kenyu—YOU SHAMELESS CITRUS ANIMALS!”