Father was here.
That single fact alone was enough to knock the air from my lungs.
It wasn't simply the fact that he'd stopped by the house that was the problem.
The real problem was Arisu, standing right in front of me.
Think this through.
What would he say if he saw his son — already a headache who refused to fall in line (from a yakuza standpoint) — with some girl in his room?
And at this hour, no less?
Ha, that's my boy — knew he had it in him!
He wouldn't say that…
'…Then again, he is yakuza, so maybe?'
Get it together.
Better to cut off any possibility before it has a chance to breathe.
I caught Arisu's eye.
Then quickly gestured toward the wardrobe.
Quick on the uptake as ever, Arisu gave a sharp nod and slipped inside without a second's hesitation.
I swallowed hard, then stepped out of the room as if nothing were the matter.
"You're home?"
My eyes met those of Ryuzaki Genma — boss of the Ryuzaki-kai.
***
Ryuzaki pointed at the wardrobe without a word.
It was obvious — get in there and hide.
Arisu gave a quick nod, scooped up the things sitting on the desk, hugged them to her chest, and ducked inside.
The wardrobe door clicked shut, and Arisu's world went dark.
Her heart was hammering.
She was half-convinced the sound of it would leak right through the wood.
'What… is even happening right now?'
This was the first time in her life she'd ever set foot in a boy her age's room.
And what was she doing in it? Hiding in a wardrobe to avoid his parents.
Arisu had spent her entire life as an elite. She had never once imagined something like this could happen to her.
'…Couldn't I just go out and say hello?'
The thought flickered through her mind for a moment — but she shook her head.
The look on Ryuzaki's face when he pointed at the wardrobe had been dead serious.
And when she thought back to the unsettling things she'd spotted in his room, it was hard to believe his father was any ordinary person either.
Then, voices drifted through the wardrobe door.
"What's going on?"
"Is it really that strange for me to come to my own house?"
"I mean, you don't usually come by. I figured something must have happened."
"I came for the ledger and the written agreements. The Kato-gumi keep stalling on payments. I think it's time to give them a proper lesson."
Ledger.
Written agreements.
And Kato-gumi.
Not an unfamiliar name.
She'd heard it from her father before.
'Kato-gumi… weren't they the gang that's been running wild in the area lately?'
And he was talking about those dangerous people as if they were beneath him…
"…By the way. Who did you let into the house?"
Arisu's breath caught. She clapped a hand over her mouth.
What?
How did he know?
She hadn't made a single sound.
"What do you mean?"
"There's an extra pair of shoes in the entryway. Not your size."
He noticed the shoes…!
Arisu's breathing went ragged.
There was no talking their way out of this.
What now?
Should she just walk out and introduce herself?
Maybe that would make things a little less—
"No. Who would I even bring home?"
"Then whose shoes are those?"
"Someone must have mixed up their locker — they walked off in mine. I borrowed a lost-and-found pair from the staff room. The other ones are shoes I already had at home."
"They look too small for you."
"I crammed my feet in. Couldn't exactly walk home barefoot."
Ryuzaki's quick thinking, delivered through the wardrobe door, was genuinely impressive.
Arisu was in awe.
Silently, of course.
'Is he a genius?'
Well — yes, he was. That was already established.
Anyway. They'd cleared the biggest hurdle. Just a little longer and he'd leave on his own—
"…Right, the shoes — fine. But, Ren."
"Yeah?"
"What are you hiding?"
…He saw through it anyway?
Was his father some kind of psychologist?
Footsteps, drawing closer.
With each one, Arisu's heart beat harder.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Louder and louder.
Then — silence, just outside.
"Ren. Open it yourself."
Oh no.
It was over.
Arisu's body trembled with dread, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
— Mrrrow~!
"…A cat?"
A cat's meow.
"Ah, caught."
"You brought it home?"
"Yeah. Spotted it on the way back yesterday."
S-saved…!
Arisu, who felt like she'd just aged ten years, let out a long, silent breath of relief.
Bless that little creature.
She'd buy it all the treats it could ever want.
"Can I keep it?"
"Hah… first studying, now dragging a stray cat home. Pathetic."
A single line from Ryuzaki's father.
A question mark floated up in Arisu's mind.
What kind of parent scolds their child for studying?
No — most parents wouldn't. Not like that.
"Want to hold it?"
"No. It'll get fur on me."
The footsteps receded. A beat of silence passed.
— Click.
At last, the sound of the front door opening.
She thought it was finally over — but then Ryuzaki's father's voice came again.
"So. You still haven't given up on that stubbornness of yours?"
"Seems that way."
"You'll regret it."
Arisu sensed it instinctively.
The argument — or rather, the fistfight — Ryuzaki had mentioned yesterday. It was connected to this.
Should I even be listening to this?
It felt a little late to be asking that now…
"You are meant to lead the Ryuzaki-kai."
"There are plenty of capable people besides me. And isn't it too early to be talking about succession? You're still in good health, Father."
"I'm not in the mood for jokes."
His father cut him off, flat and final.
"Listen carefully. If you reject the Ryuzaki-kai, you will have to give up everything the Ryuzaki-kai has given you."
"What, like my allowance?"
"Your food, your shelter, your clothing — all of it comes from the Ryuzaki-kai. That should go without saying."
"Then do what you have to. If the monk doesn't like the temple, the monk should leave."
"…Does the world really look that easy to you?"
"I'd be lying if I said no. I think I can manage just fine on my own."
Ryuzaki-kai…?!
Arisu couldn't quite make herself believe what she'd just heard.
The massive yakuza organization that dominated the southern half of Tsukuyomi Academy City.
And the very organization her father — head of the Academy City Special District Public Safety Division — had been pursuing for years.
The boss of that fearsome, ruthless organization was standing right on the other side of that door.
Wait. Which meant—
'Ryuzaki is… the son of a yakuza boss?'
Not just some school delinquent.
An actual yakuza.
From the very organization her father was after.
Her hands were shaking.
'What do I do? Should I tell Dad? But if I do, Ryuzaki would—'
She'd known him for barely a day.
And yet Arisu was already worried about what would happen to him.
Whatever his surface suggested, the Ryuzaki she'd seen today was, by any measure, a decent person.
Even today — she'd put him through one inconvenience after another, and he'd cleaned up every mess without a single complaint.
And the only reason she was hearing any of this at all was because he'd been looking after her.
In that moment, the things she'd seen in his room flashed through her mind.
A photograph of him with his arm around men who looked dangerous.
A sashimi knife tucked away in a drawer.
And a pair of brass knuckles, stained with blood.
…What if Ryuzaki was only playing the model student in front of people?
What if, in reality, he was a cold-blooded yakuza heir who operated in the dead of night?
That would make sense.
Wasn't it more believable that he was putting on an act than that he'd genuinely turned over a new leaf overnight?
'…But then why is he refusing the succession?'
If he were truly part of the organization, there'd be no reason to turn down the heir's position…
Arisu's thoughts were spinning.
An honest, upstanding student?
Or the ruthless heir to a yakuza empire?
Just — just what.
Which one was the real him?
— Creak.
The wardrobe swung open, and Ryuzaki's face came into view.
Maybe it was because of everything that had been crowding her mind just a moment ago.
Arisu startled badly enough that the words came out before she could stop them.
"…P-please don't kill me!"
This was already the second time today she'd begged for her life.
Ryuzaki tilted his head for a moment, then let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Just so you know — that's not something I do."
"……"
"My father… well, he's not exactly in a clean line of work. But I'm not. Never was interested. I've been out of it for a long time."
"…Really?"
"Would I lie about that? Come out. How long are you planning to stay in there?"
Arisu climbed out of the wardrobe, a little unsteadily.
"Oh — and obviously, don't go telling anyone about this. He's still my father, whatever else he is. Can I ask you that much?"
It was a perfectly ordinary request. So why did it feel so unsettling?
Arisu nodded on reflex.
"I'll take it to my grave."
"I appreciate that."
A small, wry smile crossed Ryuzaki's face.
Arisu found herself staring at it for a moment.
The corners of his mouth looked a little heavier than usual.
Though "usual" was a stretch — she'd only started talking to him yesterday.
What was it that weighed down the edges of his smile?
The vague ennui some students felt around this age?
No. That wasn't it.
The bitterness of being born into a yakuza family?
That wasn't quite it either.
It was something that couldn't be collapsed into a single word. A dense knot of feeling.
She couldn't presume to name it — but one thing came through with perfect clarity.
It was…
Dark.
Endlessly dark.
…A thought surfaced, unbidden.
'If Ryuzaki really hates the life he's living here — maybe telling Dad would actually…'
Maybe it could lift, even slightly, whatever dark weight had settled at the corners of his mouth.
"…Ryuzaki, actually—"
— Grrrumble…
A stomach growled, sudden and unmistakable.
There was no question whose it was — the sound had come, quite clearly, from Arisu's midsection.
"Hungry?"
"Kind of… I haven't really eaten anything since lunch."
Arisu glanced away and scratched her cheek.
Ugh, mortifying.
Of all the moments.
But she was hungry. That much was true.
She'd have to grab something on the way home.
Then Ryuzaki walked toward the kitchen and asked over his shoulder:
"Want some ramen?"
Ramen.
Honestly, she didn't eat it that often.
Her parents had rather refined tastes — instant ramen wasn't exactly a regular fixture at their dinner table.
"Ramen? Are you any good at making it?"
"Incredible, actually. I've made ramen thousands of times."
Arisu wasn't particularly passionate about ramen either.
But watching him try so hard to look casual about it —
she couldn't bring herself to say no.
"Bold claim. Well, if you're making it, I'll gratefully accept."
"How many should I make?"
"Two of us, so three should do it."
"Pig."
"You little—!"
Ryuzaki, self-proclaimed ramen authority.
He hadn't been bluffing — the bowls were in front of her in the blink of an eye.
A deep reddish color that made her mouth water.
Why did it look so good tonight, of all nights?
"It's hot, so be careful."
"Oh wow. The color's gorgeous."
"You're doing the dishes."
"I'll eat fast and make a run for it~ Thank you for the meal."
She picked up a generous chopstick-full, blew on it a little to cool it down.
"Nom."
A big, satisfying bite.
"…Huh?"
…What was this?
It was definitely good, but—
How to put it…
Incredibly……!
Gulp.
"Ow…!"
"What."
"This is… insanely — ridiculously spicy — kgh!"
A hellfire she had never experienced in her life erupted across her tongue.
She scrambled to the water dispenser and downed cup after cup to put out the blaze.
Three full cups later, Arisu pointed an accusing finger at Ryuzaki.
"What on earth — kgh — did you put in this?!"
"A little chili powder."
"Why…?"
"It blasts away all the stress that's built up. Feels like the day finally paying you back for something. You know?"
Arisu was about to launch into an indignant tirade about what kind of person does something like that — but the words he'd just said kept circling back through her mind.
Stress.
A hard day.
"…Ryuzaki."
"Mm?"
"Do you… eat ramen alone every day? With all that spice?"
"More or less, yeah."
Always eating alone.
Always shaking chili powder into his ramen.
To burn away the stress and exhaustion of the day.
'So that's how he gets through it.'
Where did that stress come from?
Today, Arisu had caught a small glimpse of its source.
In that case.
"Then, Ryuzaki."
"Mm, this heat is something else. What?"
What was it that Ryuzaki wanted badly enough to endure all of that?
"What's your dream?"
The furious rhythm of his chopsticks stopped dead.