Rika's house.
Around 3:23 a.m.
Tick… tick…
The second hand on the wall clock kept moving like always.
But to Rei Miyamoto, sitting on the sofa, it felt like the damn thing was broken.
How else could every single second drag this much?
The flaxen-haired girl kept glancing up at the clock, then immediately back to the front door—the spot closest to the entryway.
She was waiting for someone.
She didn't know why.
She didn't know why it had to be him.
And she sure as hell didn't know why she was still awake this late just to see him come home.
It was completely irrational.
She just needed to lay eyes on Shuya before she could close her own.
She needed to know he was under the same roof.
Even if he didn't say much—even if it was just a glance, just his silhouette—it gave her this huge, stupid wave of relief.
Rei figured she might actually be losing her mind. She'd never been this hung up on any guy before.
But Shuya had some kind of weird magic. She couldn't stop wanting to get closer.
Even though she knew he was already tangled up with Shizuka and Saeko in ways that weren't exactly "just friends."
She still wanted to fly straight into that flame.
And honestly? She was loving every second of it.
But if she was waiting here because of that… then what about her?
Rei glanced over at the other sofa, where the tanned, black-haired beauty had been sitting in silence the whole time—Rika Minami.
Compared to Rei's restless fidgeting, Rika looked almost calm.
She didn't get to think about it long.
Click.
The sound of a key turning in the lock.
At this hour, it had to be Shuya. No one else.
Rei's heart jumped. She shot up from the sofa, ready to greet him—
—but a black shadow exploded past her, faster than she could blink.
It was Rika.
The older woman moved like a damn panther—bare feet silent on the floor, each step soft and springy like a cat's paw. No sound at all.
And faster than her body was her fist.
If Shuya had come back even a couple hours earlier, Rika's anger meter would've been maxed out and she probably would've just pulled her gun and put one between his eyes.
But after all that waiting, even though the frustration was still burning, her brain had cooled off enough to stay rational.
Shooting him would be permanent. No take-backs.
So she'd settle for fists.
Sure, she was ambushing him, but he had the size and strength advantage, right?
Fair trade.
The second Shuya pushed the door open, a fist came flying straight at his face—powerful, lightning-fast.
A normal guy would've been out cold for an hour.
But Shuya wasn't thinking about dodging.
He was thinking…
Wait—where the hell are my Snowball Beasts? What happened to my two giant fluffy babies?
Normally the second he walked in, those two adorable little Nen creatures would bounce over to greet him.
This time he just got a punch to the face?
As for how threatening it actually was…
What, this punch is supposed to kill someone? (Hashirama Senju confused face)
Too slow.
Shuya casually raised his right hand and caught Rika's fist like it was nothing.
Rika's eyes widened. She hadn't expected him to block that.
Okay… maybe Shizuka's taste in men isn't as bad as I thought.
But she wasn't done.
Her gaze sharpened. Her other fist whipped toward his head.
Smack!
Same result—Shuya's free hand caught it mid-air.
He lifted both her arms high, spun her half a circle, and pinned her firmly against his chest.
Up close like this, he noticed something.
Rika wasn't wearing much makeup—just a touch of bright lipstick. No foundation, no eyeliner, nothing. Her style was always minimal and practical.
Yet at this distance he caught the faintest, clean scent coming off her skin.
Shuya sighed. "Rika, what the hell are you doing at this hour?"
Rika froze for a split second.
His breath brushed the back of her neck. Goosebumps instantly raced across her wheat-colored skin.
Then his voice registered.
"Die!" she snapped, face burning with embarrassment.
Her right leg shot up in a high kick that looked even more extreme than a full split—sharp, powerful, and weirdly graceful.
Her long leg turned into a whip cracking toward his face.
Shuya saw every detail.
Her toenails were neatly trimmed, no polish, clean and feminine.
The arch of her foot was perfect—no extra fat, just the right amount of softness where it counted.
In certain corners of the internet, that foot would've been rated "edible."
But Shuya wasn't a foot guy.
He preferred lips.
He tilted his head just enough for the kick to miss.
Rika instantly pulled the leg back and followed with a scorpion-tail kick from behind—but this one wasn't meant to hit. Her foot planted on his stomach, pushed hard, and used the momentum to break free from his grip.
She couldn't have escaped if he'd actually tried to hold her.
But he hadn't been using much strength, and he didn't want to accidentally dislocate her arms.
Of course, that was only because her little tantrum was still within his "tolerable" zone.
If that foot had slid any lower and pressed harder… yeah, he would've gotten mad for real.
Rika landed on all fours, back arched, head up—like a leopard ready to pounce.
No disappointment in her eyes. Just pure, excited fire.
After that short exchange, she was sure of it.
Shuya was a close-combat monster. Maybe even stronger than her.
Rika licked her lips slowly, eyes burning.
His unexpected strength made her blood run hot.
She loved thrills.
She loved challenges.
And more than anything, she craved a man who could actually conquer her.
Is that man… you?