The Photography Studio
Sakurai Saki and Nakano Ichika sat face to face under the harsh lights of the studio.
"Closer! This is a couple's shoot, not a courtroom standoff," Ueno Yoko barked, waving a hand. "If you sit that far apart, people will think you're sworn enemies! Come on, lean in—closer!"
With a resigned breath, Sakurai Saki leaned toward Ichika, his face just inches from hers.
Ichika blinked at the sudden proximity, her eyes catching on his chiseled features. A light blush crept onto her cheeks.
Click!
"That's good! Hold that—perfect!" Yoko snapped a photo without missing a beat.
Saki, ever the stoic, glanced at Ichika's expression. Why is she blushing? he wondered. She's supposed to be the older-sister type... shouldn't she be immune to this sort of thing?
"All right, Saki-kun, you can let go of her waist now," Yoko instructed.
He complied without hesitation, removing his hand from her slender waist.
Ichika, catching his cool, unaffected expression, felt a flicker of mischief rise within her. So I'm the only one who gets flustered? Not fair.
Let's see how he likes it when the tables turn.
"Okay, go get changed. One more set to go. Keep up that chemistry! And don't worry about makeup unless something's seriously smudged," Yoko clapped her hands and turned her attention to her camera.
Sakurai and Ichika rose at the same time, only to bump shoulders.
"Ah—!" Ichika yelped, her heel slipping on the studio floor.
She pitched forward, bracing for impact.
Thud.…never came.
Instead, she felt warmth.
Eyes flying open, she realized she was wrapped securely in Saki's arms. Her head rested against his chest, his steady heartbeat echoing through her.
And suddenly—her own heart kicked up a notch.
They stayed like that for a few lingering seconds before—
"If you're done playing out your drama scene, break it up! We're on a tight schedule," Yoko called, voice sharp but amused.
Saki gave a small nod and gently released her.
Ichika hesitated before stepping away, reluctant to leave the comfort of his arms.
From there, the shoot went smoothly. Saki's performance was flawless—as expected of someone who mastered the art of pretending to be a cheerful schoolboy by day and a professional rental boyfriend by night.
Ichika wasn't far behind. She had natural talent, and with just a bit more polish, she'd be brilliant. Yoko couldn't help but be impressed. A true hidden gem.
Back in the Dressing Room
The two began wiping off their makeup in silence.
It was quiet—comfortably so—until soft footsteps broke the stillness.
Minamoto Mashiro entered, swinging a small bag in hand.
"Saki-kun~ Want Mashiro-nee to treat you to a late dinner?"
It was already past ten.
Saki blinked at her, then rubbed his eyes. "Mashiro-nee… I'm really sleepy."
There was no pretense today. He simply couldn't lie—not with his Superpower active. While his ability wasn't exactly mind-reading—just lie detection—it had its own drawbacks. It had been running all day, and that slow, creeping mental strain was building up.
Mashiro's brows knitted slightly as she looked at his tired face. "Poor thing… You must be staying up way too late studying."
Saki didn't answer. Instead, he silently thought about the homework waiting for him. He'd forgotten it was Friday and he had the weekend off. The exhaustion was that deep.
He usually limited homework to thirty minutes a night—maximum two hours of study once home. Efficiency was everything. Less time on homework meant more time for focused learning.
Despite his schedule, Sakurai Saki ranked third in his year. He never relied on his ability for academics. That would feel like cheating. His Superpower wasn't what defined him—it was simply a tool.
Even without it, he believed he could hold his own.
But deep down, he knew—if he truly wanted to surpass people like Kaguya Shinomiya and Shirogane Miyuki…
He couldn't afford to take shortcuts.
Not anymore.
If Sakurai Saki wanted to claim the number one spot in the grade, he'd have to boost his daily study time to at least three hours.
Impossible.
He had already compressed time like a sponge—wrung dry, with nowhere else to squeeze.
Still, he smiled faintly. "Thank you, Mashiro-nee."
She was offering out of kindness, and there was no need for cold formality between them. Besides, it was already so late the trains would be stopping soon.
"It's no trouble at all," Mashiro replied, her voice soft and warm. "It's what a big sister should do~."
The studio fell quiet again as the two spoke, voices hushed.
It felt… too quiet.
Saki turned his head—then sighed inwardly.
That man again. The one with the slicked-back hair and cheap cologne who'd been loitering earlier. Now he was pestering Nakano Ichika.
So cliché.
Why do I keep running into these walking stereotypes?
Was today's Superpower user effect functioning as a protagonist's halo? Because suddenly all the idiotic villains in the area seemed to be drawn to him.
Saki yawned, barely suppressing a destructive impulse.
Could he go to bed before midnight tonight? That was the only real question on his mind.
His patience was wearing thin. If someone clueless decided to provoke him now…
Well, they'd regret it.
As for Ichika—he wasn't interested in playing hero. They weren't close. In fact, they'd only met once before, and that hadn't ended well, especially with her sisters involved.
He wasn't some great saint who rushed to defend justice wherever he saw inequality.
Still, he watched out of the corner of his eye.
The man handed Ichika a business card. "Miss, have you heard of me…?"
Polite tone. Smarmy smile. Everyone nearby knew what he was really getting at.
People glanced over uncomfortably but avoided getting involved. No one wanted to risk their job over someone else's dignity.
Ichika offered a stiff smile. "Um…"
It was clear she was out of her depth. This type—brazen, arrogant—wasn't something she had much experience dealing with. And worse, the man seemed to have connections.
She glanced subtly toward Sakurai Saki.
He didn't look her way. Her expression dimmed slightly, but she couldn't blame him. Their last meeting had ended in a cold war.
There was no way he'd help her.
"There's a decent nightclub nearby," the man continued smoothly. "Would you care to join me for a drink?"
"Sorry, I'm not interested," Ichika said flatly.
His smile faded.
This wasn't going how he planned. He was used to getting his way—especially with young, inexperienced models.
He leaned in closer. "One night with me, and I'll guarantee you the best auditions and industry connections. That's a great deal, isn't it?"
"Still no," Ichika replied, voice colder now.
That was when his mask cracked.
"What're you pretending to be pure for?" he snapped. "Haven't done this sort of thing before? Just not with me, huh? Playing hard to get so you can raise the price?"
His voice was getting louder. Nastier. Everyone nearby froze.
Ichika's face tightened. "I've never done anything like that."
"Oh, come on," he sneered, and reached out to grab her.
That was the last straw.
Minamoto Mashiro stepped forward, heels clicking. "She said no. Director Lin, are you planning to use force now?"
Her tone was sharp, no warmth left.
Lin Xiang paused. He recognized her. She was close to Yoko—and rumored to be cursed. The tragic deaths of her husband and child had spawned urban legends: Stay near her too long, and disaster will follow.
Normally, he wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole.
But now she was getting in his way—and making him lose face.
He gave a cold laugh. "Oh? Not interested either? What about you, then?"
His eyes flicked to Sakurai.
"And that high school boy of yours—how much are you paying him, huh? You're no saint, so don't act like one. Dirty women shouldn't interfere with men's business!"
Then he growled, "Careful, lady. One day someone might drag you into an alley, and no one will come to help."
A string of vulgar threats followed, loud and ugly.
Even Sakurai Saki, who had been tuning most of it out, finally looked up.
He caught sight of Lin Xiang's head.
[True]
…Oh?
So he was actually planning revenge?
Saki blinked slowly. That was enough.
If it had just been empty bluster, he'd have ignored it. But this was different.
He turned to the makeup artist behind him. "Am I done?"
She nodded quickly, frightened.
Saki stood up with a sigh. So much for avoiding drama.
Couldn't people just… not be awful?
Too much to ask.
He stretched lazily, then looked at Lin Xiang with a calm, almost playful smile.
"How do you want to die?"
... hello guys, check out my new fanfics in my bio, a one punch man fanfic and a death note fanfic.Try them out, pretty please.