There was no way Amasawa wasn't shocked.
Sure, she was a girl—but she was still a White Room student. Yes, there was naturally some gap between her and an adult man in raw strength, but it shouldn't have been that big. With White Room combat technique layered on top, she could easily take on several grown men by herself.
And yet, against Yukio… she'd been completely crushed by pure physical specs alone.
How was that not terrifying?
For a moment, she outright forgot to struggle. She just stayed there, blankly held in his arms—her evil claw that had been aiming for his waistband going totally still.
Yukio finally looked satisfied enough to tease her.
"Seriously. You're still young—stop staring at people's lower half all day. It's not a good look."
"W-What do you mean?!" Even a little devil like Amasawa couldn't help getting flustered when the topic came up. Her cheeks flushed hot, turning the same color as her reddish twin-tails. "That's just because you're stingy!"
"Stingy?" Yukio clicked his tongue, not impressed. "If some guy casually lets a junior 'see his holy sword' whenever she asks, that's not generous—that's a pervert. This has nothing to do with stinginess."
As he spoke, he kept walking forward. If Amasawa was stationed here, then Tsukishiro had to be close—probably just up ahead.
That snapped Amasawa back to reality. She didn't have time to argue about stingy versus "holy sword" anymore.
"S-Senpai!"
"Hm?" Yukio glanced down at her.
Amasawa bit her lip.
She knew she couldn't let him go any farther. If Yukio pushed into whatever was ahead… it could get ugly for him later.
She didn't care about herself. She'd never felt any real loyalty to the White Room in the first place—if the mission failed, it failed.
But she couldn't just stand there and watch him walk into it.
Her expression hardened into something unusually firm.
"Senpai… please. I'm begging you, okay? Just—don't go any farther."
Yukio's eyes grew heavier.
He could see it clearly: Amasawa might smile like she was carefree, but she was proud to the bone. For someone like her to plead like this… she meant it.
Was she that scared of the White Room?
Yukio didn't get it, so he tested the edges.
"You still haven't told me why you're here," he said, calm but probing. "And now you're telling me I can't go in? It's just Tsukishiro up ahead, isn't it? I've seen him plenty of times."
"N-No, senpai. It's different." Amasawa panicked, afraid his confidence would spike and he'd push forward. "Tsukishiro—Tsukishiro-san isn't that simple! He… he has a huge force behind him!"
"Senpai, you have a future. Even Tsukishiro speaks highly of you—he said you're going to be something special."
"But if that force behind him takes an interest in you… it'll make your future unbelievably difficult. Like… like they could stop you cold after you graduate. They could take away so many possibilities."
Amasawa didn't think Yukio understood what the White Room was, so she could only describe it as "a huge force." She even said it outright: if the White Room fixed its sights on him, it could wreck his life after graduation.
Only then did Yukio truly understand.
His heart gave a small jolt—like a seed buried deep underground suddenly stirring, pushing against the soil.
He looked at Amasawa again: the worry in her eyes, the stubborn determination in her face.
And it clicked.
She wasn't begging because she was scared the mission would fail. She wasn't begging because she feared the White Room.
She was begging because she was worried about him.
Worried Tsukishiro would notice him. Worried Tsukishiro would report him. Worried the White Room would lock onto him… and poison his future.
This plea—this moment where she swallowed her pride—wasn't for her own sake.
It was for Yukio.
The seed in his chest broke through the surface. Slowly, it climbed—like something about to bloom over the lake of his heart.
And then…
"Pfft."
He laughed.
Amasawa nearly exploded with frustration. "I-I'm serious! I'm telling the truth! Senpai, believe me!"
And then regret hit her like a punch.
Was it because she'd joked around too much before? Because she always sounded like she was messing around?
So now, even when she was being completely honest, he wouldn't take her seriously?
Her eyes reddened.
So this was what the boy who cried wolf story felt like…
If she'd known, she would've stopped joking with him ages ago. She was trying so hard to be serious right now.
"Pfft—okay, okay. I know." Yukio took a second to stop laughing, then set her down. His hand landed gently on her head, patting her like she was some furious kitten. "Your face is that serious—how could I not believe you?"
"I'm laughing because your worry is unnecessary." His tone stayed casual—almost careless. "It's just the White Room, right? It's not a big deal."
"—!"
Amasawa had been about to push harder—about to emphasize how dangerous it was—but then she caught one word.
White Room.
From Yukio's mouth.
Her eyes flew wide.
Her brain turned into a roaring ocean—buzzing, crashing, fragmenting. Every thought shattered into pieces she couldn't connect.
Senpai… knew? He's always known about the White Room?!
How was that possible?!
She thought only Tsukishiro, Yagami, Ayanokoji, and her knew about it.
So why did Yukio know?! Amasawa couldn't process it at all.
She was so stunned she basically looked like someone whose friendly upperclassman had just said, "Actually, I'm Ultraman," and then—while you were still laughing—turned into light.
Or like your favorite senpai casually saying he's Superman… and then immediately pulling on red underwear over his clothes and flying away.
That level of disbelief.
That was Amasawa right now.
She stayed frozen for minutes.
Yukio called her name a couple times, waved a hand in front of her face, and finally—just to snap her out of it—leaned in and blew warm air into her ear.
That finally made her jerk back to life.
"S-SENPAI! How the hell do you know about the White Room?!"