I'm not running from the law—the law would be a vacation compared to this. I am running from The Dual-Threat Calamity. To my left, the Saint of Hanagawa, Yuko, who wants to "
'friendship' me into a coma. To my right, the Silver Moon Disaster, Amilia, who wants to 'traditionally' marry me in the middle of Algebra.
I had managed to slip away during the lunch transition by crawling through a gap in the fence and hiding behind the old equipment shed. I was currently eating a piece of bread I found in my pocket (which was 40% lint, 60% sadness) and contemplating the absolute ruins of my life.
"She's in my house," I whispered to a passing beetle. "She's in my classroom. She's probably in my nightmares, charging interest on my dreams. And Yuko... Yuko has started bringing a measuring tape to school to 'ensure no silver-haired intruders enter my personal bubble.' My life isn't a rom-com. It's a tactical survival game where the only way to win is to not exist."
I stood up, dusting the lint-bread crumbs off my blazer. I needed a plan. I needed to find a way to convince Amilia that I wasn't a hero, and convince Yuko that I didn't need a 24/7 security detail.
But as I rounded the corner near the back of the gym, I realized that the Universe wasn't done with me. It was just warming up.
There, in the shadow of the gym, stood Amilia.
And blocking her path was a guy who looked like he had been genetically engineered from a slab of beef and a bowl of protein powder. It was Sato the Tank, the captain of the rugby team and a guy whose neck was wider than my future. He was looming over her, a greasy smirk on his face.
"C'mon, transfer student," Sato growled, leaning a massive hand against the wall next to her head. "A girl like you shouldn't be hanging out with a loser like Inuzuka. Why don't you come to the gym? I'll show you my bench press. It's very... impressive."
Amilia looked up at him. I knew for a fact that she had a ceremonial knife in her boot and a silver RPG currently stashed in her locker. She could have ended this guy's entire career with a single 'traditional' palm strike.
But she didn't.
Instead, she saw me out of the corner of her eye. Her violet pupils didn't flash with anger—they flashed with theatrical opportunity.
"Oh! Help!" she shrieked, her voice suddenly high-pitched and fluttering like a dying bird. She put the back of her hand to her forehead in a pose so dramatic it would have made a Shakespearean actor blush. "Is there no one to save a delicate flower from this muscular beast?! Someone! A hero! Preferably one with messy dark hair and a history of bad luck!"
She is totally faking it, I thought, stopping in my tracks. She's waiting for a 'Savior Event.' She's literally baiting the trap with her own safety.
"Kyotaru-sama! Save me!" she wailed, looking directly at me. "The beast's breath smells like onions and toxic masculinity! My constitution is failing!"
Sato turned around, his tiny eyes narrowing as they landed on me. "Oh? You? The unlucky trash-heap? You're the one she's shouting for?"
"Look, man," I said, raising my hands. "I'm just passing through. I was looking for a place to cry in peace. You can keep the bench press. I'll just... go."
"No!" Amilia cried, her lip trembling (she was really committing to the bit). "According to the Law of the Gym, if you do not intervene, I shall be forced to listen to him talk about his calorie intake for the next hour! Save me, husband-to-be!"
Sato didn't like the 'husband' part. He lunged forward, his massive hand closing around my collar like a vice. He lifted me off the ground until my toes were barely skimming the dirt.
"You think you're a hero, Inuzuka? You're a bug. I'm gonna squash you and then take her to the protein bar."
I am not a muscular guy. I don't have 'hidden power.' I don't have a spirit animal. What I do have is a lifetime of experience being hit by things. I know exactly how much it hurts to be punched, kicked, and dropped.
And more importantly, I know how to be mean.
"Hey, Sato," I wheezed, my face turning a vibrant shade of purple as he choked me. "You want to see a hero move?"
"What?"
"It's called 'The Desperate Headbutt'."
Before he could react, I slammed my forehead into his nose with every ounce of momentum my pathetic body could muster.
CRACK.
It was a sickening sound. Sato let out a roar of pain, clutching his face as he stumbled back. I fell to the ground, my own head ringing like a church bell, but I didn't stop. I wasn't fighting for honor. I was fighting because I wanted to go back to my lint-bread.
I scrambled up and launched myself at his knees. I didn't do a cool kick—I did a frantic, trash-tier tackle that sent him off balance. As he fell, I rained down a flurry of weak but incredibly fast punches to his ribs, yelling like a maniac.
"GET! OFF! MY! LUNCH! BREAK!"
Sato, shocked by the sheer, unhinged energy of a guy who had absolutely nothing left to lose, scrambled backward. He looked at me—covered in dirt, nose bleeding, eyes wild—and realized he wasn't fighting a student. He was fighting a cornered animal.
"You're crazy!" he shouted, his nose leaking blood like a broken faucet. "She's yours, man! Take the crazy silver girl! I'm going to the nurse!"
He turned and ran, his massive rugby legs carrying him away as fast as they could.
I stood there, panting, my hands on my knees. My head felt like it was being used for a drum solo.
"I did it," I muttered. "I won. And it only cost me my last three brain cells."
"KYOTARU-SAMA!"
Before I could straighten up, a silver blur slammed into me. Amilia wrapped herself around me like a celebratory ribbon.
"My hero! My savior! My destined champion of the equipment shed!" she cheered. Her face was glowing, her eyes shimmering with a love-sick intensity that made my stomach do a nervous flip. "That headbutt! It was so unrefined! So gritty! So... traditionally masculine!"
"Amilia... please... my head is actually bleeding..."
She didn't listen. She cupped my face in her hands, her silver hair smelling like a floral shop that had been hit by a glitter bomb.
"I love you, my hero," she whispered.
And then, she kissed me.
It wasn't on the lips—thank the gods—but it was a firm, lingering kiss right on my cheek. It was warm, soft, and completely, utterly terrifying. My brain, unable to process a positive romantic interaction, immediately initiated a total system shutdown.
My knees buckled. My vision blurred. I felt like I was floating away into a world where trucks were made of marshmallows.
"He's fainting from joy!" Amilia squealed, catching me. "The kiss of the Silver Moon has overwhelmed his mortal senses!"
"—He isn't fainting from joy, you silver-haired bitch."
The temperature in the air didn't just drop—it froze. I felt the hair on my arms stand up. I didn't even have to open my eyes to know who was standing behind us.
I slowly turned my head.
Yuko was standing five feet away. She was holding a plastic bag filled with juice boxes. One of the boxes was currently being crushed in her hand, the apple juice leaking through her fingers like golden blood.
Her smile was there, but it wasn't a 'Saint' smile. It was the smile of a predator that had just seen someone touch its favorite chew toy. Her eyes were dark, swirling voids of pure, unadulterated jealousy.
"Inuzuka-kun," she said, her voice so soft it was barely a whisper. "I leave you alone for ten minutes to get us some drinks... and I come back to find you being 'claimed' by a girl who can't even tell a hero from a boy who just hit his head on a jock?"
"Yuko! It's not what it looks like!" I scrambled out of Amilia's arms, falling onto the dirt. "I was saving her! Sort of! It was a whole thing!"
"Oh, I saw what it was," Yuko stepped forward, her shadow stretching out until it completely engulfed me. "I saw the 'Heroics.' I saw the 'Tradition.' And I definitely saw the 'Kiss'."
She looked at Amilia. The air between them crackled with the sound of a thousand invisible lightning bolts.
"Amilia-san," Yuko said, her voice dripping with 'kind' poison. "I think you've overstayed your welcome in this episode. Kyotaru-kun needs to go to the infirmary. And I... I need to have a very, very long talk with him about 'Stranger Danger'."
"He is my husband!" Amilia shouted, grabbing my blazer and pulling me back toward her. "He defended my honor! The kiss is legally binding in seventeen countries!"
"I'll show you 'Legally Binding'!" Yuko roared, reaching into her bag—and this time, I'm pretty sure I saw the barrel of a flare gun poking out.
I lay on the ground, trapped between the two of them, watching the clouds pass by.
"I wonder," I said to a nearby pebble. "If I close my eyes really tight... will I wake up as a side character in a boring documentary about grass?"
Probably not.
As the air between Yuko and Amilia reached a temperature usually reserved for the core of a dying star, I realized this was my moment. My Bad Luck had provided a temporary distraction. While they were busy staring each other down—Yuko with her Saint-turned-Slayer aura and Amilia with her Traditional-Fanatic resolve—I began the Forbidden Technique of the Coward.
I dropped to my stomach.
Slowly, using only my elbows and the sheer force of my desire to not be exploded, I began to crawl away. I moved like a slug with a mortgage—slow, steady, and filled with existential dread.
If I can just reach the corner of the equipment shed, I thought, a bead of sweat dripping off my nose into the dirt, I can sprint for the back gate. I'll change my name. I'll move to a remote mountain village. I'll become a goat-herder. Wait, no, Amilia has the goat-knitting connection. I'll move to a desert. Nothing happens in deserts except dehydration.
I was inches away. The shed was right there. I could almost smell the rust and the old PE mats.
"Where do you think you're going, Kyotaru-kun?"
"The Savior is attempting a Stealth Deployment!"
Before I could even let out a whimper, two pairs of hands descended from the heavens. Yuko grabbed my right ankle. Amilia grabbed my left collar. With a coordinated yank that definitely strained several of my vertebrae, they hauled me back into the center of the war zone.
"I-I was just... checking the ground for loose change!" I lied, my voice hitting a pitch only dogs could hear. "You know how it is! High schooler life! Financial instability! I need 100 yen for a juice!"
"You aren't going anywhere," Yuko said, her grip on my ankle tightening until I felt my pulse in my toes. She looked at Amilia. "He needs to be supervised. Clearly, he can't even walk ten feet without being 'claimed' or 'kissed' by someone with a silver-hair complex."
"Agreed!" Amilia chirped, though her smile was directed at me, not Yuko. "The Husband-to-be is far too precious to be left unattended! We shall escort him home. It is the 'Triumphant Return of the Wounded Warrior'!"
"I'm not a warrior! I just have a headache!" I screamed, but I was already being hauled upright.
The walk home was a special kind of torture.
I was sandwiched between them. Amilia was clinging to my left arm, her head resting on my shoulder as she hummed a song that sounded suspiciously like a wedding march. Yuko was on my right, walking with a stiff, military-grade precision, her hand hovering near her bag as if she were ready to deploy a smoke grenade at the first sign of trouble.
The silence was heavy. Usually, Yuko would be yapping about my grades or telling me a funny story about a stray cat she saw. But today, she was quiet.
I stole a glance at her.
My heart did a weird, painful stutter. For a brief second, Yuko wasn't looking at me with that terrifying 'Slayer' gaze. Her eyes were downcast, and her lower lip was trembling just the tiniest bit. In the golden light of the setting sun, I saw a shimmer—a small, glistening tear at the corner of her eye.
She quickly looked away, wiping her face with the back of her hand and masking it with a fake cough.
Wait, I thought, my cynical brain actually grinding to a halt. Was she... crying?
Guilt hit me like a physical blow. Is this my fault? I mean, everything is my fault, but this felt different. Yuko has been my 'Saint' for a decade. She's the one who stayed by me when I accidentally set my own hair on fire during a birthday party. She's the one who held my hand when I failed my middle school entrance exams.
Does she... actually love me? Or is she just crying because her favorite 'charity project' is being taken over by a rich girl? Am I just a pet to her, or am I something more?
"Inuzuka-kun," Yuko whispered, her voice cracking. "Are you... are you really going to let her stay at your house? Forever?"
"I—well—my mom said—"
"I don't care what your mom said!" Yuko snapped, her eyes flashing with a mix of sadness and desperation. "I've been the one looking after you! I've been the one who knows exactly how you like your tea! I know you can't sleep if the closet door is open! She doesn't know anything about you!"
"I shall learn!" Amilia countered, tightening her hug on my arm. "I shall study the Book of Kyotaru! I shall memorize his every flaw and turn them into virtues! His inability to boil water shall be a sign of his purity!"
I felt like I was being torn in half. Not physically—though that was a possibility given their strength—but emotionally. I wanted to say something to Yuko. Something to comfort her. Something to tell her that she was still the most important person in my life.
But before I could open my mouth, the Universe decided that I had experienced enough 'character development' and was overdue for a 'slapstick disaster.'
It started with a low whistle in the trees.
Then, without warning, a massive, localized gust of wind—the kind that only exists in anime and high-budget weather disasters—roared down the street. It was a 'Divine Wind.' A perverted zephyr. A gale sent directly from the gods of fanservice to ruin my life.
WHOOOOOOOSH!
"EEEEEK!"
"AH!"
In an instant, the world turned into a flurry of motion. Both girls let go of my arms to grab their skirts. But the wind was too strong. It was a vertical gust that defied the laws of gravity.
I was standing right there. I couldn't look away. My Bad Luck had locked my eyes in position.
To my left, Amilia's pleated skirt flared up like a silver umbrella. I saw a flash of white lace—something fancy, something that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. To my right, Yuko's skirt was tossed upward, revealing something that looked like it had tiny, cute bears on it.
Time slowed down. I saw the lace. I saw the bears. I saw the sheer, unadulterated embarrassment on their faces.
Oh no, I thought, my soul preparing to leave my body. This is the end. I've seen the 'Forbidden Zones'. The universe has set me up for a double-execution.
"I... I mean... nice bear—"
I shouldn't have spoken. I really, really shouldn't have spoken.
The wind died down as quickly as it had arrived. There was a heartbeat of silence. A heartbeat where both girls realized I had been standing at ground zero of the 'Panoramic View.'
"KYOTARU-KUN!" Yuko's face didn't turn red—it turned a shade of neon crimson that could be seen from the moon.
"SAVIOR! YOU HAVE PERFORMED THE 'UNEXPECTED INSPECTION'!" Amilia shrieked, her face matching Yuko's color.
In a standard rom-com, the girls might blush and hide their faces. But this is a different-style story. In this world, the response to accidental perversion is extreme, gravity-defying violence.
Both of them reacted with the synchronized precision of professional martial artists. They didn't punch. They didn't slap. They both performed a high-velocity 'Panic Kick.:
WHAM.
THWACK.
Two pairs of school shoes connected squarely with my chest and stomach at the exact same moment.
"I'M SORRYYYYYY—!" I screamed, but the sound was cut short as I was launched into the air.
I didn't fall backward. I was sent flying across the road like a human frisbee. I cleared the sidewalk, passed over a parked bicycle, and landed head-first into a pile of discarded cardboard boxes outside a convenience store.
CRASH.
I lay there, buried in 'High-Quality Tofu' boxes, my vision swimming with little cartoon birds and silver-haired silhouettes.
"He's... he's dead," I heard a random passerby say.
"No," another voice replied. "He's just an Inuzuka. They're built to bounce."
I didn't bounce. I just stayed in the boxes and waited for the darkness to take me. Because I knew that when I opened my eyes, the Marriage War would be waiting. And now, I had 'Panties-Gate' to add to my list of crimes.