Kure Ragna lay on the bed, a warm towel draped over his face.
His head rested against Sakayanagi Arisu's lap, separated only by the soft fabric of her white suspender stockings.
Above him, the rhythmic sound of her preparing shaving cream filled the quiet room.
A knee pillow, huh…
He'd seen people online call it a lifelong dream for men. Even in real life, some places offered it as a paid service, hyping it up as some kind of magical experience.
But now that he was experiencing it firsthand?
Honestly… it wasn't that special.
Sure, Arisu's thighs were perfectly shaped—soft yet firm, a textbook definition of elegance—but in the end, a pillow was just more comfortable.
The only downside? The suspenders pressing against his head.
If there was any regret, it was that when he opened his eyes, the only thing in his direct line of sight was the swirling shaving cream in the glass bowl above.
Yeah… the view was vast and unobstructed.
"Kure Ragna," Arisu's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"…Depends on what it is."
She tilted the bowl slightly, lowering her head with a playful smile.
"I don't know if it's just my imagination, but I feel like you were thinking about something very rude just now."
"Pfft—how could that be?" His muffled voice came from under the towel, utterly composed. "Fake news."
Lying with a straight face was a necessary skill for any qualified killer.
Arisu didn't press further, simply smiling as she continued stirring the cream.
"As long as you know," she mused.
"After all, I need full concentration to make sure my hands don't slip. If I get distracted…" She paused, tapping the edge of the bowl lightly.
"Well, who knows what might happen?"
Kure Ragna let out a dry chuckle. That was a blatant threat.
"…Fine, fine. I was thinking about something, but not what you're imagining," he admitted. "I was considering the Katsuragi faction in Class A."
"Oh?" Arisu's movements slowed slightly. "Go on."
As she carefully removed the towel from his face, she began applying the thick shaving cream in smooth, deliberate strokes. Kure Ragna took the chance to explain the day's events.
She listened attentively, her usual grace intact, though he noticed her pause a few times—perhaps from amusement.
She stretched out the process, using unnecessary strokes, as if savoring the details.
"Sounds like the Katsuragi faction had a rough first day," she said, shaking her head in mock sympathy.
"Yeah. And it's only going to get worse." Kure Ragna smirked. "I plan to visit them every day, break them down mentally and physically until they collapse. If they're lucky, they'll last three days."
"My, how terrifying~" Arisu leaned over to retrieve a razor and towel from the trolley beside the bed, her breath warm against his ear.
"Okay, no more talking. I need to focus."
"Arisu, you sound like an executioner…" he muttered.
She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "Your personal executioner—isn't that better?"
That… was surprisingly flirtatious.
"I think your father, Uncle Sakayanagi, would be devastated if he heard that," Kure Ragna teased.
"Hmm? Father wouldn't mind at all~" Arisu said with a light chuckle.
With that, she pressed her hand gently against his cheek, tightening the skin as she brought the razor down in slow, careful strokes.
Her movements were meticulous—almost too slow. The razor was sharp, gliding across his skin with barely any resistance, but she treated the process like an art form.
Half an hour later, as the last bit of shaving cream disappeared, Kure Ragna opened his eyes, feeling as if he had just woken from a deep sleep.
"…All done?"
"No. Keep your eyes closed."
He sighed but complied. The sound of water sloshing reached his ears, and he expected the warm towel to return for one last wipe.
Instead, a cool, soft sensation brushed against his lips.
His eyes snapped open.
Arisu was impossibly close, her silver lashes trembling, a faint blush spreading across her porcelain skin. Her breath was quick, shallow, mingling with his own.
"…Don't talk."
Her voice was almost a whisper—soft, delicate.
Her hands, colder than usual, framed his face, keeping him from pulling away. Not that he had any intention to.
Neither moved.
Seconds stretched into eternity, the quiet hum of the room amplifying every heartbeat.
Finally, Arisu broke away, panting slightly. A thin silver thread shimmered between them before breaking.
She looked anything but composed, her usual elegance replaced with something far more raw—far more real.
But even then, she smiled.
Licking her lips provocatively, she whispered,
"That was just a special advance payment. Did you like it?"
Kure Ragna exhaled, staring at her. "…If that was the special reward, I can't even imagine what the main reward looks like."
Still dazed, he pushed himself up—only to be shoved back down again.
Arisu leaned in, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
"I want you, Kure Ragna."
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