Takeru carefully arranged his notes on the wooden table in his private study, the room filled with the soft rustling of paper. The evening sun poured through the shoji screens, casting warm, golden light over the room's polished tatami mats and shelves lined with scrolls and books. The air carried a faint scent of parchment and freshly brewed tea, the latter brought in moments ago by Emiko, who now stood quietly at the edge of the room, hands folded neatly in front of her.
Takeru leaned back slightly, stretching his neck to ease the stiffness that had crept in from hours of reading and writing. His black and gold Imperial Royal Guard uniform, though impeccably tailored, felt heavy after a long day, the weight of the family sword Shirohana no Yaiba at his waist adding to the burden. He sighed quietly, brushing a stray lock of his longer hair away from his face as he picked up another document.
His study was cluttered, though not in a chaotic way. It was a calculated disarray, with papers and notebooks arranged in a way only he could understand. The table before him was a blend of materials. From business ledgers, genealogical records of noble families, treatises on economic theory, and notes on military strategy. A curious mix of topics that reflected the roles he now found himself juggling. The business acumen required to manage the Shirogane family's international interests, and the noble etiquette and tactical knowledge expected of a scion of one of the Empire's respected warrior houses.
Emiko approached quietly, placing a delicate porcelain cup of tea beside him. "You've been working diligently all evening, Takeru-sama," she said softly, her voice warm with subtle admiration. "I thought you might appreciate a break."
Takeru glanced up briefly, giving her a small nod of thanks. "You always seem to know when I need it," he said, his tone even but genuine.
Emiko smiled faintly, bowing slightly before retreating to a respectful distance. Takeru took a sip of the tea, savoring its earthy aroma and letting the warmth settle in his chest. For a moment, he allowed himself a brief pause, his dark eyes scanning the room as his thoughts began to wander.
The tasks before him were, admittedly, daunting. Business courses and studies in nobility intertwined to form an academic gauntlet that would have broken most others in his position. Yet, to his surprise, he found the work manageable — even easy, at times. The reason his memories. The timelines he carried within him, the countless experiences of past lives, gave him an edge no one else could possibly fathom.
He had done this all before. Or something like it, anyway. In one timeline, he was just a regular student struggling through coursework to prepare himself as the Head of an International Zaibatsu. In another, he was a battle-hardened surface pilot, whose life focus honed by years of fighting against the BETA. The combination of those experiences now allowed him to approach these studies with a clarity and efficiency that felt almost unfair.
Still, he couldn't deny the strangeness of this timeline. The Shirogane family, in this iteration, had a history of foreign business ventures, an odd detail that hadn't existed in his original world. It made sense, in hindsight. Even as commoners in his original timeline, his father had been well-traveled, constantly moving for work related opportunities. That spirit of enterprise seemed to have carried over into this world, shaping the Shirogane family into something more cosmopolitan, their influence extending beyond Imperial Japan's borders.
Takeru reached for one of the ledgers, flipping through its pages with practiced ease. The accounts were meticulous, detailing trade agreements, investments, and even partnerships with foreign entities. It was a lot to manage, but for Takeru, it all fell into place like clockwork. If not for his accumulated knowledge from countless lifetimes, he might have found this overwhelming. But now, it was simply another task to organize, another puzzle to solve.
"I wonder…" he murmured to himself, setting the ledger down and glancing at a separate stack of papers—military reports, training manuals, and his own notes on TSF tactics. "If I didn't have these memories, would I even be able to keep up?"
He allowed himself a small smirk. Probably not. Judging by the state of his notes and the progress he'd made, it seemed he had a history of what he could only describe as "lazy brilliance." The work got done, and it got done well, but there was an undeniable element of procrastination lurking behind it all.
He tapped a finger against the table thoughtfully, his mind drifting to his brothers that didn't exist in another timelines. Shirogane Arata and Shirogane Hiroto. They had been the family's pride, the ones destined to carry on the Shirogane name and legacy. Both had been exceptional Eishi, their names whispered with respect in the ranks of the Imperial Army. And yet, both had fallen against the BETA. Their deaths had left a void not just in the family, but in the Empire's forces.
Takeru exhaled slowly, the weight of that unfamiliar loss settling over him like a familiar shadow. Their absence had created a sense of crisis, one that had ultimately forced him to step up despite not knowing them personally, inheriting only memories and feelings this Takeru had buried. Had Arata and Hiroto survived, Takeru often wondered if he would have continued to drift aimlessly, content to remain in their shadow. But fate or perhaps the timeline, had other plans for him.
Despite the burden, Takeru couldn't deny that he had grown into the role. He was studious, focused, and, thanks to the memories of his past selves, more than capable of rising to the occasion. And yet, there was an emptiness that gnawed at him, a reminder of what he had lost.
His thoughts turned, suddenly, to Kagami Sumika. The ever-energetic, ever-cheerful girl who had been such a central part of his original life. Her absence in this world was somewhat palpable, a void that no amount of study or responsibility could fill. The faces that surrounded him now — nobles, vassals, servants were unfamiliar, their interactions steeped in formality and propriety.
"No Sumika," he muttered under his breath, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. "Just politics and duty."
He shook his head, banishing the thought as he refocused on the task at hand. He didn't have the luxury of dwelling on what wasn't. This world demanded his full attention, and if he allowed himself to falter, the consequences would be far greater than a few missed friendships.
The sound of Emiko's voice drew him from his reverie. "Takeru-sama, is everything to your satisfaction?" she asked, her tone gentle but attentive.
"Yes," Takeru replied, offering her a brief glance. "Thank you, Emiko. The tea is excellent, as always."
"I am glad to hear it," she said, bowing slightly. "If there is anything else you require, please do not hesitate to ask."
Takeru nodded and returned to his notes, his mind once again focused on the complex web of responsibilities that defined his life in this timeline. He couldn't afford to let his thoughts stray. Not now, not with so much at stake.
The hours stretched on, the evening sun giving way to the soft glow of lantern light. Takeru continued his work, organizing, strategizing, and preparing for the challenges ahead. It was exhausting, but it was also necessary.
Because in this timeline, he was Shirogane Takeru, the last heir of the Shirogane clan, a soldier, a student, and a man carrying the weight of countless lifetimes.
Morning came, and the Shirogane estate was bathed in soft, golden sunlight. Takeru adjusted his uniform in the mirror, ensuring every fold and trim was immaculate. The black and gold fabric fit him perfectly, the gold embroidery catching the light with understated elegance. It was a striking uniform, one that made his Fudai lineage clear to all who saw it.
As Yamada, the family's ever-loyal driver, pulled the car to the front of the estate, Takeru stepped out and climbed into the back seat without a word. The drive to the Imperial University was a quiet one, the streets of Kyoto alive with the morning bustle. The city was a blend of old and new, traditional wooden buildings standing side by side with modern structures of glass and steel. Takeru gazed out the window, his thoughts elsewhere.
When they arrived, Yamada pulled to a smooth stop, stepping out to open the door for Takeru.
"Good luck today, Takeru-sama," he said, bowing slightly.
Takeru nodded in acknowledgment, stepping onto the campus grounds. The sprawling university was both grand and intimidating, its architecture a harmonious blend of Japanese tradition and modern practicality.
As Takeru walked, his black and gold uniform drew immediate attention. Students and faculty alike turned their heads, their gazes lingering on him as he moved with calm purpose. The gold trimmings on his uniform marked him as a member of a Fudai House, yet there was something unusual about his bearing that set him apart. Unlike the ostentatious heirs of more prominent noble families, Takeru's quiet demeanor and disciplined stride hinted at humble origins — a family that had risen through merit and dedication rather than centuries of inherited prestige.
The whispers followed him as he walked.
"Is that… Shirogane?"
"Black and gold… but their family wasn't always nobility, were they?"
"He looks serious. Cold, even. Wonder what happened?"
Takeru heard the murmurs but ignored them, his stoic expression unchanging. Outwardly, he maintained an air of composure, but inwardly, he felt the weight of their gazes. He was used to attention, yet the scrutiny still felt alien. It wasn't like this before, he thought. In his original world, he had been a nobody, just another student among the masses.
The nobles were the first to approach him. Men and women, dressed impeccably, stepped forward to greet him with polite smiles and carefully measured words. They spoke with practiced ease, offering compliments and small talk, their voices betraying subtle curiosity.
"Shirogane-sama, it's an honor to finally meet you."
"I hear the Shirogane name is quickly becoming one to watch."
"Perhaps we can discuss our families over tea sometime?"
Their interest puzzled him. In another timeline, these same people would have looked down on him or ignored him altogether. Yet here, they treated him as a peer, albeit with a hint of cautious respect. Inwardly, he was unsure how to respond, but outwardly, he maintained his distance, offering polite but curt replies as he continued on his way.
After completing his initial errands at the faculty office, Takeru found himself in the university library. It was a vast, sprawling space filled with rows of bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling. The scent of aged paper filled the air, a comforting reminder of simpler times.
Takeru settled into a quiet corner, his fingers tracing the spines of books as he scanned the titles. His thoughts were measured, his mind organizing the tasks ahead. Yet there was a faint sense of peace in the silence, a rare reprieve from the pressures that weighed on him.
As he raised his head to select another book, his gaze froze.
There, a few meters away, was a face he thought he'd never see again — a face that nearly brought tears to his eyes.
She was young, stern, and full of purpose. Her brown hair was neatly tied back, and her sharp, focused eyes scanned the room with the intensity of someone deeply committed to her cause. In her arms, she carried a precarious stack of papers, the edges of which fluttered slightly as she moved.
Jinguuji Marimo.
Takeru's chest tightened as he watched her approach, his emotions a whirlwind of joy, nostalgia, and disbelief. This was not the battle-hardened instructor he knew yet. The woman who had guided him through hell and back. No, this Marimo was younger, less weary, her idealism still intact. Yet she was unmistakably the same person, her determination radiating from her every movement.
She stopped in front of him, her stern gaze locking onto his. "Shirogane Takeru-sama, correct?"
Takeru nodded, quickly suppressing the urge to embrace her. His stoic mask slipped into place as he rose to his feet, bowing slightly. "Yes. And you are…?"
"Jinguuji Marimo," she said, her voice crisp and authoritative. "I'm currently working on a petition related to the university's curriculum. If you have a moment, I'd like to discuss it with you."
Takeru inclined his head, gesturing for her to sit across from him. "Of course, Jinguuji-san."
Marimo set the stack of papers on the table and took a seat, her posture rigid but composed. She pushed a single sheet toward him. "This is the petition I've been working on. The university is increasingly prioritizing a military-focused education at the expense of broader, more balanced academic studies. I believe this trend is harmful to the future of the Empire, and I'm seeking support to challenge it."
Takeru scanned the document, his mind racing. He admired Marimo's dedication, her unshakable belief in education as a cornerstone of society. Yet, knowing what he did about the future, he couldn't agree with her stance. The BETA threat loomed far too large for such ideals to take precedence.
"You've clearly put a lot of thought into this," Takeru said, his tone measured. "But with respect, I don't believe now is the time to push for such changes."
Marimo frowned, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean by that? The Empire's increasing obsession with militarization is stifling creativity and innovation. How can we hope to advance as a society if we neglect education?"
Takeru held her gaze, his voice calm but firm. "I admire your vision, Jinguuji-san. But the current situation demands a military focus. The BETA are not a hypothetical threat — they are an existential one. The Empire is on the brink of declaring a national crisis. There are discussions in the Diet to allow women to join the fight, which speaks to the gravity of our situation."
Marimo's eyes widened slightly, the weight of his words sinking in. "The Diet is considering…? No, that can't be true."
"It is," Takeru said simply. "And I need you to promise me that this information stays between us."
Marimo hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I understand. But it saddens me to hear this. Is this truly the only path forward?"
Takeru's expression softened, a rare flicker of emotion crossing his face. "Perhaps not forever," he said quietly. "If we survive the coming years, if we defeat the BETA and reclaim some measure of stability, then I promise you — we will return to the path of education. To the ideals you fight for. And I will do everything in my power to ensure that happens."
Marimo's stern demeanor faltered, her lips curving into a faint, genuine smile. "You're an unusual man, Shirogane Takeru-sama," she said softly.
"And you're an idealist," Takeru replied, his tone lightening ever so slightly.
Marimo chuckled, then caught herself, sitting up straighter. "I apologize if I've been too forward. It's just… rare to meet someone willing to engage in such a frank discussion. I was frankly expecting you to shoo me away immediately."
Takeru waved off her apology. "No need. I respect your conviction, Jinguuji-san. The Empire needs people like you."
They exchanged a brief but meaningful glance, a moment of mutual understanding passing between them.
As Marimo gathered her papers and rose to leave, Takeru watched her go, his mind heavy with thoughts of the past and the future.
For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to hope. That this time she would remain alive and fighting until her old age.
The library's warm, quiet atmosphere had a way of lulling one into a false sense of calm. As Takeru spent hours poring over books, carefully taking notes and organizing his thoughts. The steady hum of students coming and going, the scratch of pens against paper, and the faint scent of aged tomes were all oddly soothing. But as much as he enjoyed the solitude, he had other places to go.
Gathering his materials, Takeru rose from his seat, adjusted his black and gold Imperial Royal Guard uniform, and made his way to one of the university's lecture halls. His steps were unhurried, his demeanor calm as he navigated the sprawling campus.
When he reached the hall, he pushed open the heavy doors and stepped inside. The room was already bustling with students, most of whom were settling into their seats or chatting quietly. At the front of the room, a young woman leaned against the lectern, her posture relaxed to the point of laziness.
So, that's Yuuko-sensei in this year, Takeru thought as his eyes fell on her. She's... young.
She was younger than he remembered, of course — closer to his age now than the brilliant, battle-hardened scientist he had known in another life. Her long, straight violet hair cascaded down her back, and her sharp violet eyes, piercing gaze scanned the room with a mix of boredom and mild amusement. She wore a lab coat over her standard university attire, but the casual way she carried herself made her seem less like a scholar and more like a mischievous student who had commandeered the podium.
As Takeru walked down the aisle to take a seat, the faint hum of conversation in the room quieted. All eyes turned to him, drawn by the unmistakable presence of his black and gold uniform. The gold trim marked him as a Fudai noble, while the uniform itself, so clearly tied to the Imperial Royal Guard, made it clear he wasn't just any student.
Yuuko noticed him too, her eyes narrowing slightly as her lips curved into a sly smirk. "Well, well," she drawled, pushing off the lectern and straightening her posture. "It seems we have a special guest today."
Takeru ignored the stares and took a seat near the front of the room, his expression unreadable. He placed his notebook on the desk in front of him, sitting with his back straight and his gaze focused on Yuuko.
The silence in the room stretched for a moment before Yuuko clapped her hands, her tone light and mocking. "Alright, everyone, let's get started. I wouldn't want to keep our distinguished guest waiting, after all."
A few students chuckled nervously, but Takeru didn't react.
Yuuko began her lecture with the same lazy tone she had used before, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she explained concepts that seemed almost insultingly basic. Her words were laced with subtle jabs at the Empire's bureaucracy, outdated methods, and the general incompetence she seemed to attribute to anyone who wasn't herself.
Takeru listened quietly, his pen moving across his notebook as he took detailed notes. But as the lecture continued, he couldn't help but notice how outdated some of the information she was presenting seemed. It wasn't wrong, per se, but it lacked the nuance and context that someone with his accumulated knowledge could see clearly.
Yuuko, of course, wasn't oblivious. She noticed the way his pen paused on occasion, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he considered her words. And, true to form, she decided to have a little fun.
"Shirogane Takeru-sama, isn't it?" she said suddenly, her sharp eyes locking onto him.
The entire room turned to look at him again, and Takeru slowly raised his head to meet her gaze.
"Yes, that's correct," he replied calmly.
Yuuko's smirk widened. "And here I thought the Imperial Royal Guard had no time for lectures. Surely someone like you has more important things to do than listen to a mere student prattle on about outdated theories?"
There was a ripple of laughter from the students, but Takeru remained unfazed.
"I find it important to verify the accuracy of the information being taught," he said evenly, his tone polite but firm.
Yuuko raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh? And what do you think of the information so far, Shirogane-sama?"
Takeru met her gaze steadily. "Some of it is accurate, but other parts seem to be missing key updates. For example, your analysis of the BETA's movement patterns in East Asia doesn't account for recent shifts in their hive-building behavior."
The room fell silent, the students glancing nervously between Takeru and Yuuko.
Yuuko's smirk faltered slightly, but she quickly recovered, folding her arms across her chest. "Interesting," she said, her tone still light but with a hint of sharpness. "And what, pray tell, do you think I missed?"
Takeru flipped to a page in his notebook, tapping it lightly with his pen. "The patterns suggest an increased likelihood of hive formation in regions previously considered unsuitable — specifically areas with high levels of salt concentration. This has been observed in preliminary reports from Dunhuang and Cheorwon, though the data has yet to be officially published."
Yuuko's eyes narrowed, her smirk fading into something closer to annoyance. "And where exactly are you getting this information? Last I checked, the Ministry of Defense doesn't release classified data to students."
Takeru's tone didn't waver. "It's not classified — at least, not entirely. The data can be pieced together from publicly available reports if you know where to look."
Yuuko stared at him for a long moment, her sharp mind clearly working to process his words. She wasn't used to being challenged, especially not by a fellow student, and the fact that he was doing so with such calm precision clearly irritated her.
"Well," she said finally, her voice laced with sarcasm, "it seems we have a prodigy in our midst. Perhaps you'd like to teach the rest of the lecture, Shirogane-sama?"
Takeru's lips twitched slightly, the faintest hint of a smile appearing before it vanished just as quickly. "That won't be necessary. Please continue, Miss Kouzuki."
The students exchanged nervous glances, unsure whether to laugh or remain silent. Yuuko, for her part, looked equal parts annoyed and amused.
For the remainder of the lecture, the dynamic between the two continued. Yuuko would present a theory or conjecture, often laced with sarcasm or subtle jabs at the military. Takeru, unbothered by her tone, would calmly refute or expand on her points with precise, well-reasoned arguments.
By the end of the lecture, it was clear that Takeru had "won," though he had done so without raising his voice or showing a hint of arrogance. Yuuko looked mildly irritated as the students began to file out of the room.
The sound of departing footsteps faded as the lecture hall emptied, leaving Kouzuki Yuuko alone at the podium. She leaned against the lectern, her sharp eyes glaring daggers at the empty seat where Shirogane Takeru had been sitting just moments ago.
She huffed dramatically, crossing her arms. "That smug little… noble," she muttered under her breath. The fact that she couldn't find a better insult irritated her even more.
It wasn't just that Shirogane had been right — though that was certainly annoying enough. No, what truly gnawed at her was how effortlessly he had responded to every jab she'd thrown his way. She prided herself on her razor-sharp tongue and cutting sarcasm, but Shirogane had calmly parried every single one of her remarks, making her look like an amateur.
Who taught this man!? Yuuko thought.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open behind her. Yuuko turned, her expression softening slightly as she spotted the familiar figure of Jinguuji Marimo stepping into the hall.
"Marimo-chan!" Yuuko called out, her voice suddenly filled with exaggerated cheer.
Marimo blinked, caught off guard by the uncharacteristically enthusiastic greeting. "Yuuko!? Are you… okay?"
Yuuko abandoned all pretense of dignity, rushing over to Marimo and clinging to her arm with dramatic flair. "No, I am not okay!" she wailed. "I've been bullied! Harassed! Outwitted in my own lecture hall!"
Marimo's eyes widened. "What are you talking about? Who could possibly—"
"That noble in black and gold!"
"Wait… you mean Shirogane Takeru?" She stopped mid-sentence as a realization dawned on her.
Yuuko pulled back just enough to pout at her friend, her green eyes narrowing. "Yes, that demon in noble clothing!"
Marimo's lips twitched, and before she could stop herself, a soft giggle escaped. "That doesn't sound like him at all," she said. "I thought he seemed… decent. And handsome, for a noble."
Yuuko gasped in mock betrayal, clutching her chest. "Marimo-chan! How could you take his side? He's the villain here! I was bullied—bullied, I tell you!"
Marimo's laughter grew louder, though she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. "Yuuko, I really can't imagine anyone 'bullying' you. You're not exactly the most… approachable person in the world."
"Approachable? Hah!" Yuuko sniffed, releasing Marimo's arm and crossing her own. "For your information, that black-and-gold menace humiliated me in front of an entire lecture hall. And worse—" she leaned in dramatically, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "—when I looked up his points afterward, he was right."
Marimo couldn't suppress her laughter anymore. She doubled over, clutching her stomach as the sound echoed through the empty hall. "It's so rare for someone to win against you," she said between giggles.
Yuuko glared at her, though the corners of her mouth twitched as if she were fighting a smile. "Glad my suffering amuses you, Marimo-chan."
Still laughing, Marimo straightened and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I'm sorry, Yuuko, but I can't help it. You're always so confident — it's almost refreshing to see someone throw you off your game."
Yuuko ran a hand through her silver hair, a frustrated growl escaping her lips. "Refreshing for you, maybe. For me, it's a nightmare." Her expression shifted suddenly, her green eyes narrowing with a mischievous glint. "But now that you're here, I need to ask you something."
Marimo tilted her head, her laughter fading into mild curiosity. "What is it?"
Yuuko looked her up and down, her gaze sharp and calculating. "How exactly did you meet Shirogane Takeru?"
Marimo blinked. "Oh, well, I… presented some of my ideas to him. About the education system and how it's become too militarized."
Yuuko groaned, dramatically rolling her eyes. "Ugh, Marimo-chan, why would you waste your time with something like that? Of course, he'd destroy your arguments. The man's a smug know-it-all!"
Marimo frowned slightly, though she was clearly used to Yuuko's antics. "I don't think they were a waste of time," she said firmly. "He listened to my points, and even though he disagreed, he explained his reasoning. It was… thoughtful, actually."
Yuuko's smirk returned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Thoughtful, huh? Are you sure he doesn't have a little crush on you?"
Marimo's cheeks flushed pink. "W-What? That's ridiculous!"
"Is it?" Yuuko teased, poking her friend's shoulder. "Handsome noble boy, taking the time to 'thoughtfully' debate you? Sounds suspicious to me."
Marimo groaned, covering her face with her hands. "You're impossible, Yuuko."
Yuuko's smirk widened. "Well, whether he likes you or not, I've got a plan."
Marimo's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "A plan? What kind of plan?"
Yuuko grabbed Marimo's arm, dragging her toward the door. "A plan to embarrass him, of course! He made me look like a fool, so it's only fair we return the favor. And you're going to help me."
Before Marimo could protest, she found herself being pulled outside.
Takeru walked slowly along the cobblestone path leading to the university gates, the crisp evening air brushing against his face. His black and gold uniform stood out even in the fading light, the reflective trim catching the soft glow of nearby lanterns.
He was lost in thought, his mind already organizing the tasks he needed to tackle next, when he heard hurried footsteps behind him. Turning slightly, he was greeted by the sight of Marimo and Yuuko approaching, the latter practically dragging the former along.
"Shirogane-san!" Yuuko called out, her tone deceptively cheerful.
Takeru's sharp eyes flicked between the two women, immediately sensing mischief in Yuuko's expression. "Miss Kouzuki," he said evenly. "Jinguuji-san."
Marimo looked sheepish, her cheeks slightly pink as she avoided his gaze. "Shirogane-san, do you… um, have time to grab a drink with us?"
Takeru raised an eyebrow, his expression betraying a hint of amusement. He glanced at Yuuko, whose smirk practically screamed I'm up to something. It didn't take much to guess what she was trying to do, but rather than embarrass her by pointing it out, he simply nodded.
"I don't mind," he said calmly.
Yuuko's smirk faltered slightly, as if she hadn't expected him to agree so easily. "Good!" she said, recovering quickly. "There's a great place nearby. Let's go."
The small izakaya near the university was warm and inviting, its wooden interior filled with the sound of clinking glasses and lively conversation. The trio sat at a low table near the back, the flickering light of a paper lantern casting soft shadows across their faces.
Yuuko wasted no time ordering drinks, her plan clear: get Takeru and Marimo drunk enough to make fools of themselves. But as the night wore on, it quickly became apparent that her plan had backfired spectacularly.
Marimo, despite her initially timid demeanor, turned out to be a surprisingly enthusiastic drinker. With each glass of sake, her cheeks grew redder, her laughter louder, and her grip on Yuuko's arm tighter.
Takeru, on the other hand, remained eerily calm. He drank steadily, his expression unchanging even as the empty cups piled up in front of him.
Yuuko, meanwhile, found herself struggling to keep up. Her head felt foggy, and her stomach churned with the weight of far too much alcohol. To make matters worse, the conversation between Marimo and Takeru had taken a turn for the intense.
"I'll tell you what's wrong with this damn education system!" Marimo slurred, her voice loud enough to draw a few glances from nearby tables. "They're turning everyone into soldiers! What happened to teaching poetry? Philosophy? Art?"
Takeru nodded, his voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of frustration. "And while we're on the subject, the Empire is far too slow in responding to the BETA threat. If they don't act soon, we'll lose the East Defense Line entirely."
Yuuko groaned, slumping against the table as the two of them continued to rant. "What… have I done?" she muttered weakly.
She tried to stand, intent on escaping, but Marimo's hand shot out like a vice, gripping her wrist with surprising strength. "You're not going anywhere!" Marimo declared, her words slurred but her determination clear.
Yuuko sighed in defeat, resigning herself to her fate as the duo continued their drunken tirade. As the night wore on, she felt her consciousness slipping away, her vision blurring as the voices around her faded into the background.
When she finally blacked out, her last coherent thought was a simple one.
Never… drinking with them… again.
Yuuko groaned as consciousness crept back to her. Every muscle in her body ached as though she had been through a grueling workout, and her head throbbed with a dull, unrelenting pain. The cool morning light filtered in through the large windows of the unfamiliar hotel room, reflecting off the pristine white sheets she was lying on.
She blinked slowly, trying to piece together where she was, and why her body felt so sore. But as she shifted slightly, a sharp, stinging sensation shot through her lower half, making her wince. Then she noticed the faint spots of red dotting the sheets beneath her.
Yuuko's eyes widened. Her groggy mind stumbled through half-formed thoughts until a creeping sense of horror began to settle in her chest. With a slow, deliberate motion, she turned her head.
And there she was! Jinguuji Marimo sprawled out next to her, groaning softly in what sounded like sweet pain. Like Yuuko, there were blood spots where Marimo had been lying.
Yuuko's gaze darted to the floor, where a pile of clothing lay in a tangled mess. Amidst the discarded bras, panties, and shirts was a single, unmistakable item she had hoped not to see, a black and gold uniform.
Her stomach dropped.
Craning her neck further, her heart pounding in her chest, she saw him. At the center of the large queen-size bed, lying gracefully as though he didn't have a care in the world, was Shirogane Takeru. His expression was calm, serene even, and his chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.
Yuuko stared, her mouth hanging open as memories started flooding back—memories she wished would have stayed buried.
It had started innocently enough, with drinks and playful teasing. She had been so sure her plan to embarrass Shirogane would work. But somehow, the tables had turned. The more they drank, the clearer it became that Shirogane was some kind of monster. He drank without flinching, his calm demeanor unshaken no matter how much sake was poured.
And then there was Marimo. Sweet, proper Marimo had transformed into a fiery ranting machine, slurring her grievances about the education system while matching Shirogane drink for drink. Yuuko had been caught between the two, desperately trying to keep up until her head grew foggy, her words slurred, and…
Oh no.
She remembered flashes. She and Marimo clinging to Shirogane, laughing and teasing him as they stumbled into the hotel. His stoic face finally showing hints of amusement, or was it irritation? She remembered pushing him onto the bed, then—
Yuuko clutched her head, her face burning. Oh shit, we rode him like a damn stallion…
She snapped back to the present, staring at Shirogane's peacefully sleeping face. Her first reaction was rage, a deep boiling anger that she directed entirely at him. How dare he… no, wait. How dare WE!?
Her mind spiraled further into chaos as the memories played on a loop. She had been dominated. She, Kouzuki Yuuko, the sharpest mind in the room, and in Japan, had been reduced to a trembling mess by some damn noble. Worse still, she couldn't even muster a proper excuse because, damn it, he had been… good.
She clenched her fists, shaking with a mix of humiliation and fury, when her eyes flicked back to Marimo.
The younger woman's face was flushed, her lips curled into a faintly pleased smile as she mumbled incoherently in her sleep. Yuuko's eye twitched. "Oh, hell no," she hissed under her breath.
"Marimo-chan," she said sharply, giving her friend a nudge.
Marimo groaned, her eyes fluttering open slowly. "Hmm? What… Yuuko?"
Yuuko glared at her. "Wake up. Now."
Marimo blinked groggily, her cheeks still flushed from the alcohol. "Why are you whispering?" she muttered, sitting up, and then wincing as the soreness hit her. "Ow… wait… why does everything hurt?"
Yuuko didn't answer, instead jabbing a finger toward the bloodstains on the sheets.
Marimo followed her gaze, her sleepy expression shifting to one of dawning horror. "W-Wait… what is…?"
"Look," Yuuko hissed, pointing to the middle of the bed.
Marimo's head turned, and when her eyes landed on Shirogane, her face turned beet red. "Awawawawawa!" she stammered, her hands flying to her cheeks.
Yuuko rubbed her temples, her patience wearing thin. "Stop panicking and focus! Do you remember what happened last night?"
Marimo froze, her wide eyes darting back and forth as fragmented memories surfaced. Her blush deepened, and she covered her face with her hands. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no…"
"Yes," Yuuko said dryly, crossing her arms. "We, both of us, lost our cherries to the same damn man."
Marimo peeked through her fingers, looking utterly mortified. "But… he's a noble! A Fudai! What are we going to do?"
"I don't know!" Yuuko snapped, her voice rising slightly. "But we need to get out of here before he wakes up and demand we become his concubines or something like that!"
Marimo hesitated, her lips trembling. "But… shouldn't we apologize? Or—"
"You fool!" Yuuko cut her off, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Listen to me. We're leaving. Right now. No apologies, no explanations. We'll deal with this later."
Marimo swallowed hard, nodding reluctantly.
The two scrambled out of bed, wincing with every movement as their sore muscles protested. They gathered their scattered clothes as quickly as possible, their hands fumbling in their haste. Bras, panties, shirts, and skirts were hastily thrown on, their usual composure replaced with frantic desperation.
As they approached the door, Yuuko glanced back at Shirogane one last time. He was still fast asleep, his peaceful expression making her grind her teeth in irritation. How the hell can he sleep so gracefully after what happened?
Marimo tugged on her arm, whispering urgently, "Yuuko, let's go!"
The two women leaned on each other for support as they limped out of the hotel room, their legs wobbly and their faces burning with embarrassment.
The hallway was mercifully empty as they made their escape, but the moment they reached the elevator, Marimo froze.
"Yuuko," she whispered. "What if someone sees us?!"
Yuuko glared at her. "If you don't want to be seen, then stop panicking and act natural!"
"'Natural'?" Marimo squeaked. "I can barely walk!"
Yuuko groaned, dragging her friend into the elevator as the doors slid shut behind them. As the elevator descended, the two women leaned against the wall, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and mortification.
Marimo broke the silence with a weak, trembling voice. "Yuuko… what are we going to do if he remembers everything?"
"I'll smack him if he doesn't!" Yuuko sighed, running a hand through her disheveled hair. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, let's just focus on getting out of here. We were supposed to punish him! Not reward him damn it!"
The elevator chimed, the doors opening to the lobby. Taking a deep breath, the two women stepped out, leaning on each other as they made their way toward the exit.
The fresh morning air greeted them as they stepped outside, but their relief was short-lived.
"Never again," Yuuko muttered, her voice resolute. "Never drinking with you and him again."
Marimo nodded solemnly, though her flushed cheeks suggested she wasn't entirely opposed to the idea.
And with that, the two women limped away into the sunrise, leaving behind a very confused Shirogane Takeru to deal with the aftermath.