Chapter 2: The Shocking Incident on the Tram.

Days until your boyfriend, Hoshiya Kaoru, is stolen:
——
One hundred days

That icy red number—“one hundred days”—seemed written in blood, searing Ayata Aina’s retinas.

[Whose sick prank is this?!]

After the first few seconds of blank shock and disbelief, rage erupted inside Ayata Aina like a volcano.

Her brows knotted tight, eyes blazing with fury, the knuckles clutching her phone turning bluish-white from the strain.

A nauseating mix of violation, fierce protectiveness over Hoshiya Kaoru, and absurd incomprehension churned violently in her chest.

Faces flashed through her mind at lightning speed as she tried to guess the culprit, but she came up empty.

Ayata Aina and Hoshiya Kaoru were friendless strangers in Tokyo, without even close acquaintances.

Even at work, Ayata Aina had never mentioned having a boyfriend, let alone his name.

Yet the prankster clearly knew Hoshiya Kaoru existed and that they were a couple.

[A neighbor, maybe? That’s about the only possibility…]

Still, Ayata Aina couldn’t pinpoint who. Their old neighborhood was mostly filled with elderly residents.

She frowned, racking her brain for ages, but found no answer.

When she glanced back at the text on her phone, she noticed what looked like a play button below.

Fuming and determined to unmask the culprit, Ayata Aina tapped it.

“Daddy, what’s that lady looking at? Is the guy on the phone crying?”

“That’s the pervert I told you about. Stay far away from people like him.”

…

Everyone in the train car shot odd looks at Ayata Aina in the corner, because her phone was blaring audio.

“Um… excuse me, could you tell me who this teacher is…?”

The otaku girl standing beside her—grabbing the handrail since there were no seats, wearing a faded Hatsune Miku T-shirt, rolls of fat spilling out, her greasy face pitted with acne scars—stared at Ayata Aina’s screen and asked.

Having devoured countless videos of this genre, the otaku girl had never heard such an enchanting voice.

It wavered between laughter and tears—thin, trembling, carrying a softness that had been forcibly suppressed yet finally broke free.

The trailing notes lingered endlessly, coiling between tongue and palate, dissolving into an almost inaudible nasal hum, sticky and moist.

Every tiny inhale was followed by a delicate, kittenish licking sound, intermittent, linking to the next surging wave of breath.

Since the otaku girl was standing and Ayata Aina seated, she could easily peek at the screen.

One glance made her suck in a sharp breath.

[When did such a gorgeous teacher debut?!]

Even a seasoned otaku like her had never seen a man this beautiful. And from the scene, the woman pinning his wrists and sweating freely was a muscular blonde with dyed hair!

This was her absolute favorite NTR plot!

Blown away by such a flawless masterpiece, the otaku girl forgot everything else and eagerly asked Ayata Aina.

“Get lost!!!”

Ayata Aina’s anger, already a volcano on the verge of eruption, finally exploded. She shot to her feet and shoved the otaku girl to the floor.

Just then, the train stopped. Ayata Aina bolted out without looking back and sprinted toward home.

“Uuu… if you won’t tell me, fine, but why hit me?”

The otaku girl, sprawled on the ground, climbed up with a pout but didn’t chase after her.

Chasing was out of the question anyway. What she wanted most now was to find that teacher from Ayata Aina’s phone and savor the video at home.

Little did the otaku girl know, she would never find that teacher again.

Years later, on the brink of sudden death, she would recall that afternoon on the train—an eternal moment in a single glance…

Deep down, Ayata Aina had always feared someone would steal her boyfriend, Hoshiya Kaoru.

She felt lucky to have found such a rare treasure in that tiny Kyushu village, yet unworthy of him.

Without her, Hoshiya Kaoru could have had a far better life in Tokyo instead of squeezing into their mortgaged eighty-square-meter apartment.

Still, Ayata Aina couldn’t help feeling secretly thrilled.

But now, her phone played a video set in the bedroom of their little home.

Her boyfriend—her childhood friend, the fiancé she planned to propose to in a few months—Hoshiya Kaoru was pinned on the bed they shared every night by a woman she had never seen.

The boy’s pale, silky arms were folded together and restrained by one of the woman’s hands, pressed against his softly pudgy belly.

The woman’s most striking feature was her wild, shoulder-length ash-blonde hair, disheveled, strands plastered to her full forehead and sharp neck by sweat, radiating untamed ferocity.

Her balanced, powerful muscles stood out like marble reliefs—not bulky lumps, but refined lines etched under taut skin, like river-polished stone.

Her triceps rose and fell beneath the skin with each motion, brimming with explosive potential.

Her waist looked especially compact and strong against broad shoulders; her jawline sharp, neck long yet corded with tough muscle; a thin silver cross necklace bounced with her movements.

She gazed down at the boy—now a puddle of mush—with casual sharpness, lips curled in habitual teasing triumph.

Sweat traced her wheat-colored skin, sliding over angular jaw, dipping into pronounced collarbones, vanishing between powerful chest and tank-top hem.

Like a lioness…

Ayata Aina refused to believe Hoshiya Kaoru would cheat, so this blonde must have broken in and forced herself on her Kaoru.

[Hurry… faster… I have to get home and save Kaoru…]

Ayata Aina tore through the streets like a madwoman, drawing stares from every passerby.