Next year, Monster Hunter Wilds. I won't be posting as much. Just a warning
Here is the profile of the only Ice King and the only other guy:
Name: Fujimura Kaito
Age: 18-19 years old
Appearance:
- Height: 180 cm
- Build: Slender and athletic, with a graceful, almost effortless elegance in his movements.
- Hair: Ash blonde, kept short and neat, with a slight wave that adds to his refined appearance.
- Eyes: Icy blue, cold, and piercing, often giving the impression that he looks right through you.
- Skin: Pale, with a cool undertone that complements his icy aesthetic.
- Clothing Style: Always seen in an "Ice" color palette, favoring shades of white, light blue, grey, and silver. He mostly wears suits, even in casual settings, which enhances his aloof and formal appearance. His outfits are impeccably tailored, often with subtle, intricate details like ice-blue stitching or frost-like patterns on his ties. He is always wearing glasses with thin, silver frames.
Personality:
- Emotionless & Aloof: Kaito maintains a cold, detached demeanor, rarely showing emotion. He doesn't engage in small talk and prefers to keep interactions brief and to the point.
- Brutally Honest: Kaito believes in speaking the truth, no matter how harsh it may be. He has little patience for lies or sugarcoating, which often makes him insensitive or even cruel, though his intentions are rarely malicious.
- Loner: He is a solitary figure, preferring his own company over others. He doesn't seek out friendships and is often seen as unapproachable due to his frosty demeanor.
- Good & Heroic: Despite his cold exterior, Kaito has a strong sense of justice and is always willing to do the right thing, even if it means making personal sacrifices. His actions are often misunderstood due to his lack of emotion, but his moral compass is unshakable.
- Not Good in Hot Weather: Kaito struggles in warm environments, often becoming irritable and more withdrawn when the temperature rises. Background:
- Family: Comes from a prestigious family with a history of producing cold and calculating individuals, this shaped Kaito's demeanor and outlook on life.
- Academics: Excels in his studies, particularly in areas that require logic and precision, such as computer science. He approaches his education with the same meticulousness that he applies to everything else.
-Living Situation: Lives alone in a minimalist, modern apartment in Tokyo. His living space is as cold and orderly as he is.
Fujimura Kaito woke to the soft chime of his phone vibrating on the nightstand. He blinked, momentarily disoriented in the dim light of early morning, before reaching out to feel for his glasses. Once he put them on, the world came into sharper focus. The screen of his phone glowed with the caller ID: Akiyama Sayuri.
It had only been two days since their first encounter at the university's opening ceremony. She had intrigued him—her cold demeanor, sharp tongue, and aloofness mirrored his own. It was rare for anyone to catch his attention.
Sliding his thumb across the screen, he brought the phone to his ear.
"Good morning, Fujimura-san," Sayuri's voice came through, calm and businesslike. "Sorry for calling so early, but I wanted to discuss forming the club. We talked about it before. I also spoke with Hikigaya-san and met Yukinoshita Yukino. She's... like us too."
Fujimura remained silent for a moment, processing. "I see," he replied, his voice flat and emotionless.
"That's all. I just wanted to update you. I'll speak to you later. Bye."
Before Fujimura could respond, the line went dead. He stared at the phone briefly before setting it back on the nightstand. Without hesitation, he began his morning routine. Sitting up, he removed his pajama top and started his exercises—sit-ups, performed with steady, precise rhythm.
After completing his workout, Fujimura headed to the shower, letting the warm water cascade over him. He stayed under the stream longer than usual, allowing the heat to soothe his muscles. Despite his dislike for warmth, at times like this, it helped him feel... functional.
Dressed in a tailored gray suit, he buttoned his crisp white shirt. He adjusted his silver tie, the frost-like pattern barely noticeable unless observed closely. Everything about his attire was meticulously arranged—a reflection of the cold precision he carried within.
In the genkan, Kaito slipped into polished black shoes and stepped out of his minimalist apartment, ready to face another day of icy interactions.
0000
Hikigaya Hachiman stared blankly at the syllabus in his hand, the cool spring breeze drifting through the open classroom windows. His eyes flicked between the printed schedule and the clock on the wall. Wait... this doesn't seem right. A sinking feeling twisted in his stomach as he realized, to his horror, that he'd misread his class schedule. He had been sitting in the wrong lecture for the past hour.
Without a second thought, he stuffed his notes and textbooks into his bag, muttering how hopeless his life had become. His actual class was on the opposite side of the campus, and he had only six minutes to get there.
Outside, the cherry blossoms in full bloom would have normally caught his eye—if he weren't in full-blown panic mode. He glanced at his phone again, confirming his worst fear. Six minutes. He took a deep breath and, despite every instinct telling him to accept defeat, did the only reasonable thing left.
He ran.
Students enjoying their peaceful first week of university were suddenly obstacles in his path as he weaved through the crowd. His legs burned, and his mind berated him for being careless enough to end up in this situation. He reached the building, his heart pounded loudly in his ears.
One minute left.
How am I going to make it to the second floor in one minute?
Defeat settled over him like a dark cloud. Hikigaya slowed his pace, his shoulders sagging as he climbed the stairs. There was no point in rushing now. Even if he managed to reach the classroom in time, barging in late and out of breath would only draw unwanted attention.
Resigned to his fate, he entered the classroom, bracing for the professor's scolding... only to find his classmates casually chatting. The professor hadn't arrived yet.
I lucked out.
Relief washed over him as he made his way to the back of the room, avoiding eye contact. Sliding into an empty seat, still catching his breath, Hikigaya leaned back in his chair. At least, for today, disaster had been averted.
0000
But as the professor finally wrapped up the lecture, Hikigaya slumped in his chair, staring blankly at the front. He hadn't absorbed a single word. For the last hour and forty minutes, his mind had drifted far from the lesson—and for a reason he wasn't particularly proud of.
Sitting directly in front of him was an attractive woman who had unknowingly captured his attention. At first, it was her presence—the way her long hair cascaded down her back, the soft curve of her shoulders. But then, the real problem started when she shifted in her seat, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of pink fabric.
Pink.
His thoughts spiraled into chaos. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the professor's droning voice, his mind kept wandering back to that moment, to the color that had, against his will, become the focal point of his entire afternoon.
Pink.
I'm not exactly an expert on women's clothing—fashion, in general, might as well be a foreign language. But even someone like me can't help but notice when something like this... catches the eye. Her panties... are they T-back? Lace? Cotton? What are they?
Of course, I have no way of knowing. It's not like I could just ask. That'd be ridiculous. Still, the thought keeps circling in my head, lingering like a puzzle I need to solve.
In Hamlet, the existential question was, "To be, or not to be?"—life, death, meaning, purpose. All heavy stuff.
And yet, here I am, stuck with my own question. Not about existence or purpose, but about this small, insignificant piece of fabric. This pink material that's somehow ensnared my focus. What is it?
I'm hopeless.
I can't believe I just had a monologue about women's underwear. What would Yukinoshita think?
As the other students packed up and left, Hikigaya remained frozen in his seat, staring down at his empty notebook. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks—he had no idea what today's lesson had been about. Worse, there was homework assigned, and he didn't have a single useful note to guide him.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back in his chair.
I lost to pink panties.
His life was a comedy of errors, and this was just another chapter in his long book of defeats. Now, thanks to his wandering mind, he'd have to figure out how to complete the assignment from sheer nothingness.
Maybe this is what they mean when they say you learn the hard way.
0000
Hikigaya slid into his seat just in time for his psychology lecture. Glancing around the room, he quickly noticed that the majority of the 81 students were women. Great, just what I needed—standing out more than usual, he thought, already feeling out of place.
Moments later, the door at the front of the classroom opened, and in walked a woman who instantly commanded the attention of everyone in the room. Her chestnut-colored hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, and she wore a crisp white dress shirt tucked into a fitted pencil skirt, accentuating her slim, professional figure. Her expression was as cold as stone, and her dark brown eyes swept over the students with a detached air that made Hikigaya feel she was looking right through him.
"I'm Dr. Mio Kurosawa from Advanced Cognitive Science," she began in an authoritative tone. "I'll be teaching psychology this semester."
Hikigaya blinked. Dr. Kurosawa, huh?
The lecture began immediately—no introductions, no time for questions, just straight into the material. Her voice was smooth but emotionless, carrying through the room like a cold breeze, devoid of warmth. She lectured at a brisk pace, never pausing, never acknowledging the students who raised their hands with questions. It was clear she didn't care if anyone was keeping up. She was there to present the information, and it was up to the students to follow—or not.
Hikigaya scribbled notes, though he found his thoughts drifting. What a cold attitude... She's even more detached than Yukinoshita. And that's saying something. He let out a quiet sigh, pretending to focus on the lecture while his mind analyzed Dr. Kurosawa's demeanor.
Is it arrogance? No, it seemed more like indifference. Like she was too good to care whether anyone understood what she was talking about. Brutally efficient, but still...
He looked up at her again as she clicked through slides, speaking as though the lecture was for her benefit, not the class. I wonder if she's always like this. Or maybe she just doesn't care about anyone. What kind of person becomes so detached from everyone else?
A small part of him found her intriguing. And intimidating. This was the kind of person he'd usually avoid, yet something about her cold exterior piqued his curiosity. He didn't realize it then, but an idea was already forming in his mind.
As the lecture droned on, Hikigaya sat there, half-listening, his thoughts still on Dr. Kurosawa. She was an enigma, wrapped in professionalism and indifference, and, for better or worse, this wouldn't be the last time their paths would cross.
0000
Hikigaya nodded as he saved the last contact in his phone, watching as the young woman with black hair who had just given him her number walked away. He let out a quiet sigh, the weight of the situation settling in. It had started innocently enough—a group of students in his class suggested exchanging contact information to help each other with assignments. But now, as he glanced at his phone, the contact list had grown to include six women and only two guys.
The weight of six women's contact information feels heavier than it should, Hikigaya mused, unease creeping in. He couldn't help but wonder if this would lead to complications later on. I hope this doesn't cause any issues with 'boyfriend-kun'.
Standing up from his chair, he slid his phone back into his pocket and left the classroom. As he stepped into the hallway, his eyes landed on a familiar figure—Akiyama Sayuri, the white-haired woman he had met before. Her striking appearance made her stand out in any crowd, her icy demeanor perfectly matching her ethereal looks.
Hikigaya hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on her. But before she could spot him, he quickly made up his mind and turned toward the stairway on the opposite side of the building. Better to avoid any unnecessary interactions today, he thought, heading down the steps and slipping through a different exit.
Once outside, he exhaled a breath of relief, glad to have dodged the encounter. His day had already been strange enough, and dealing with someone like Akiyama—whose cold and sharp demeanor mirrored his own in ways he didn't care to examine—wasn't something he was in the mood for.
It's going to be one of those days, huh?
0000
As Hikigaya made his way across campus, he passed a group of lively women chatting and laughing together. He let out a sigh, feeling an instinctive sense of detachment from the scene. But something in the middle of the group caught his eye.
Sitting there, looking completely out of place, was a man in a sharp gray suit. His ash-blond hair was neatly styled, and his ice-blue eyes were hidden behind thin, silver-rimmed glasses. His posture was rigid, and though his expression remained stone-faced, Hikigaya could sense the discomfort beneath it. This guy looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, Hikigaya thought, briefly sympathizing.
This situation should be different, Hikigaya mused wryly, instead of a guy, it should be a beautiful woman soaking up all that attention. He would save her from the group of guys.
He sighed again, and without overthinking it, began pushing his way through the group. "There you are!" Hikigaya called out, catching the attention of the man in the gray suit. "Come on, we're going to be late."
The man's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected rescue, though Hikigaya was the only one who noticed. The women, too absorbed in their conversation, didn't register the subtle exchange. Understanding what Hikigaya was doing, the man stood up from the bench, his movements graceful but deliberate.
Without a word, the two walked away, leaving the chatter behind. As they distanced themselves, Hikigaya felt a sense of relief, though he knew the awkwardness wasn't entirely over.
The man glanced sideways at Hikigaya, the corner of his mouth twitching as if trying to form a faint smile. "Thanks," he muttered, his voice low but sincere.
"No problem," Hikigaya shrugged. "You looked trapped."
The man nodded, his frosty demeanor returning. "It was... unavoidable."
"Yeah, well," Hikigaya sighed again, "next time, pick a better spot to sit." He glanced at the man's impeccable gray suit.
"Fujimura Kaito," the man introduced himself, his ice-blue eyes flicking toward Hikigaya.
"Hikigaya Hachiman."
Hikigaya raised an eyebrow. "Not much of a talker, huh? I'm used to that." He shoved his hands into his pockets, letting out yet another sigh.
There was a brief pause as they continued walking, neither feeling the need to fill the silence with small talk. For Hikigaya, it was oddly comforting—this guy was as cold and detached as he was, maybe even more.
It's refreshing, Hikigaya thought, not having to force a conversation.
Fujimura glanced at him briefly but said nothing, his silence speaking volumes. They continued walking in companionable indifference, like two cold winds brushing past each other.
"Let's just hope we're not late for whatever's next," Hikigaya muttered, though he had no idea what the "next thing" even was.
As they approached the entrance to the library, Hikigaya suddenly found himself engulfed by a group of women, their excited chatter filling the air. For a moment, he thought it might be his lucky day—surrounded by women, what could go wrong?—but reality quickly set in. The real target of their attention was not him, but Fujimura, as the group shifted toward the tall, icy man in the gray suit.
"Oi! Who touched my butt?" Hikigaya grumbled, his voice barely audible over the commotion. The crowd pushed him to the edge, and just as he was about to be swallowed up entirely, teetering on the verge of falling, two sharp voices cut through the noise.
"Enough," the first voice commanded, calm yet authoritative. The women froze in place.
"Back off," the second voice echoed, equally firm but with a hint of irritation.
Hikigaya glanced up and saw two figures standing a few feet away. Both radiated an aura as frigid as Fujimura's. One of them was a beautiful woman with long, flowing black hair, wearing a simple yet elegant white sundress, paired with black tights and a light blue cardigan. It was Yukinoshita Yukino, his girlfriend.
The other woman, Akiyama Sayuri, stood beside her with her striking white hair and piercing gaze. She looked as though she'd been observing the chaos for some time, unimpressed.
The crowd parted instinctively at the sight of them, the tension palpable. Yukinoshita's eyes narrowed as they locked onto Hikigaya. "Hachiman," she said flatly, her voice tinged with quiet judgment.
He awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Yukino...shita."
Fujimura, maintaining his stoic expression, glanced between Yukinoshita and Akiyama, sensing the weight of the moment.
"Let's go," Yukinoshita said coolly, turning toward the library without breaking her gaze. Akiyama followed, casting one final glance at the group of women before trailing after her.
Hikigaya quickly caught up, relieved that the chaos had subsided but fully aware this was only the beginning of another long, eventful day.
0000
In the private study room, the atmosphere was oddly serene despite the blend of personalities. The space was tidy, with a large table in the center surrounded by bookshelves lined with neatly arranged volumes. A few comfortable chairs made for an ideal study environment, and sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over everything.
Hikigaya sat at the table, feeling like the most ordinary, warm-blooded person in the room. To his right, Yukinoshita Yukino was deeply engrossed in her textbook, her delicate fingers lightly resting on his thigh—a quiet gesture that served as a calming anchor amidst the intensity of their impromptu study session.
Across from him, Akiyama hummed softly to herself as she skimmed through a scientific article on her laptop. Her voice, though soft, added a melodic quality to the room, contrasting with the quiet focus surrounding her.
Meanwhile, Fujimura sat in a chair with a book he'd picked up on the way to the study room. His icy blue eyes scanned the pages with mechanical precision, his cold and aloof demeanor untouched by the relaxed warmth of the room.
Hikigaya glanced at each of them in turn. Yukinoshita's hand on his thigh was a small reassuring reminder of their connection. Akiyama's quiet humming filled the space with a gentle, almost comforting rhythm. Fujimura's intense focus completed the scene, adding an unexpected layer of depth to the moment.
"Quite the study session," Hikigaya muttered, knowing his comment wouldn't disrupt the calm. He leaned back in his chair, observing the scene with quiet amusement. It was an unusual mix of people, but somehow, it worked, the moment of peace amidst the usual chaos of university life.
His thoughts drifted. With these three and Kurosawa-sensei, maybe I'm a magnet for cold-hearted bitch—
Yukinoshita's voice cut through his reverie, sharp and clear. "Hikigaya, I hope you're not thinking anything inappropriate."
He blinked, caught off guard. "Not at all," he replied quickly, masking his surprise. "I was just reflecting on how interesting it is to meet four people with such... similar personalities."
Yukinoshita raised an eyebrow, her gaze steady as she looked up from her textbook. "We might have similar attitudes, but we're quite different."
Hikigaya nodded, feeling a sense of understanding. "True. You all have your differences, but there's a common thread somewhere."
Akiyama, still softly humming, glanced up from her laptop with a thoughtful look. "Exactly. We all have unique perspectives, but there's something that connects us. It's what makes the idea of forming a club intriguing."
Fujimura, still engrossed in his book, gave a brief nod of agreement. His icy blue eyes met Hikigaya's, silently conveying a shared understanding.
Hikigaya glanced around the room, appreciating the unexpected synergy between them. Despite their differences, there was an unspoken connection, a shared purpose that made the idea of forming a club seem more plausible.
"Well," Hikigaya said with a small smile, "it looks like we've got a pretty diverse yet cohesive group. Let's see where it takes us."
The group returned to their studies, each absorbed in their tasks, yet bound by the subtle but undeniable connection forming between them.
0000
Hikigaya walked alongside Yukinoshita as the cool evening air brushed against them, their conversation drifting to the recent club venture.
"I don't think this club is going to work," Hikigaya admitted, his tone tinged with concern. "We don't have enough members. It feels more like a social circle than an actual club."
Yukinoshita glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "I see."
They soon arrived at the grand entrance of her family's mansion. The elegant facade towered over them, with the warm glow of the lights casting a soft illumination on the pathway.
"Would you like to come in for dinner, Hikigaya?" Yukinoshita asked, her voice softening slightly.
Before he could respond, Yukinoshita's mother appeared, gently yet firmly ushering him inside. Her polite insistence left him with little choice. He found himself at the dining table, surrounded by Yukinoshita's family.
Dinner proceeded with polite conversation and the soft clinking of fine china. While pleasant enough, Hikigaya felt slightly out of place and was relieved when the meal finally concluded. Still, he appreciated the warmth of their hospitality.
Afterward, Yukinoshita led him to her bedroom. The room was tastefully decorated with a serene blend of soft colors and elegant furnishings. They sat on the edge of her bed, chatting about their day and whatever topics came to mind. Hikigaya found himself struggling to ignore a growing desire to kiss Yukinoshita but decided against it, not wanting to risk an awkward encounter with her family nearby.
Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a loud, excited voice from behind the door. "YUKINO-CHAN! HOW ABOUT WEARING THESE LACE PANTIES FOR HIKIGAYA-KUN?"
The door burst open, and in stormed Yukinoshita's older sister, Haruno, holding a pair of black lace panties that looked more like ribbons than actual underwear. Her dramatic entrance left both Hikigaya and Yukinoshita in stunned disbelief.
Before anyone could react, a pillow flew across the room, hitting Haruno squarely in the chest and sending her stumbling back. The panties slipped from her grasp, landing on the floor as Haruno, looking flustered and slightly disheveled, collapsed beside them.
Yukinoshita, her face flushed and breathing heavily, glared at her sister with anger and embarrassment. "Nee-san, what are you doing?"
Haruno, attempting to regain her composure, grinned sheepishly. "I thought it'd be fun to... surprise you both."
Caught between shock and awkwardness, Hikigaya could only sit there, unsure how to process the situation. The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, broken only by Yukinoshita's heavy breathing and Haruno's fumbling attempts to explain herself.
It was, without a doubt, a bizarre turn of events, leaving Hikigaya wondering how he had ended up in such a strange and humiliating predicament.
0000
Back in his apartment, Hikigaya lay in bed, tossing and turning as he struggled to sleep. The events of the evening replayed in his mind with relentless clarity, and the image of Yukinoshita in black lace underwear lingered uncomfortably in his thoughts. His face was flushed with embarrassment and frustration, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor.
Turning onto his side, he tried to shake off the intrusive thoughts. Why did Haruno have to barge in like that? he thought, exasperated. The unexpected and awkward scene left him with a lingering sense of unease that he couldn't easily dismiss.
His an attempt to distract himself, Hikigaya grabbed his phone and decided that watching an AV film was his only reasonable option. He scrolled through a few choices, eventually selecting something he hoped would help him relax.
As the film played, Hikigaya's mind drifted away, the images on the screen merging with the exhaustion he felt from the day's events. Despite his initial intent to use the film as a distraction, the combination of mental fatigue and the late hour proved overwhelming.
Halfway through the film, Hikigaya's eyes grew heavy. The room felt warmer, and the soft glow of the phone screen blurred at the edges of his vision. With a sigh, he let himself sink deeper into his bed, the stress of the evening gradually giving way to the embrace of sleep.
Eventually, the phone slipped from his hand, and he drifted off, the film playing softly in the background. The worries about his forgotten homework and the embarrassment from earlier faded into the peaceful oblivion of sleep.
Hikigaya's last coherent thought was a resigned acceptance of his situation. For now, he would embrace the sleep he so desperately needed, letting the concerns of the night slip away until the morning.
