CHAPTER 55: WHICH ONE ARE YOU CHOOSING?

Kentaro stood in an aisle, frozen before a rack of lacy bras, mentally praying for the floor to swallow him whole. Yura stood nearby, watching him with calm amusement.

Then, from behind was the worst-case scenario for Kentaro.

"Hello, husband." A voice called out.

Kentaro jerked so hard he nearly knocked over a mannequin. "K-KIRA?!" He shouted a bit too loud.

Everyone in the store turned to look at Kentaro, their expressions filled with confusion.

"Ooh, he’s been caught cheating," one customer muttered.

Kira stepped into the light, her arms crossed, her expression flat, yet her presence radiated a sense of danger.

Yura turned to Kira slowly, voice now ice-cold. "...Why are you here?"

Kira ignored her entirely, stepping closer to Kentaro with a small smirk growing. "If she gets lingerie picked out by you, then so do I. Be fair, right, husband?" She leaned in, whispering just for him. "...Pick something sexy."

Kentaro’s soul fled his body. "Wha-why me?!"

A loud crackle came through Kentaro’s comms, followed by Shogo’s booming voice:

"THIS. IS. IT. Operation Lacy War has begun!"

Kentaro covered his ear. "Shogo, shut up before someone actually hears YOU!"

"Too late!" Shogo roared with glee. "I’ve got a perfect visual feed, front row seat to destiny! Soldier, listen well: this is advanced training. Two gorgeous ladies... One dressing room... And you, Kentaro, stuck in the middle. PICK WISELY."

"But if you pick the wrong one, Kentaro, my friend, I swear I will give you the wedgie of a lifetime..." Shogo muttered, his enthusiasm fading

Kentaro muttered, covering his face, "Why is this my life..."

Shogo continued, his voice dripping with drama: "Today, lingerie will not just be worn, it shall be weaponised to seduce KENTARO!"

Yura finally stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Kira, sparks flying between them.

"If we’re doing this," Yura said confidently, "then let’s see whose choice Kentaro favours more."

Kira smirked, tilting her head. "Fine. But don’t cry when you lose, dollar-store diva."

Kentaro backed away slowly, palms up. "Girls, come on, we don’t need to do all tha-"

Too late.

The store erupted into chaos. In the changing section, Yura selected a delicate lavender set with silky ribbons, stepping out of the changing room with grace, her composure like a goddess from another world.

Kira countered with a black lace ensemble that screamed danger, leaning against the doorway with a devilish grin that made Kentaro’s knees weak.

Shogo’s voice blasted again, cracking with excitement. "HOLY HELL! We’ve got angel vs. demon! Lavender elegance versus midnight temptation! KEN, REPORT, WHICH SIDE ARE YOU ON?!"

Kentaro covered his face, peeking between fingers as his heart tried to escape his chest. "I-I can’t... I’ll die..." He squeaked.

The two girls stepped closer to him simultaneously, voices overlapping:

"Well, husband?"

"Which suits me better... Silly boy?"

Kentaro, now trapped in a corner of the lingerie shop, lifted his hands defensively as Yura and Kira closed in.

"I-I like both!" He blurted out, voice cracking. "I-It’s impossible to choose!"

Yura’s soft smile sharpened with challenge, while Kira’s smirk turned devilish.

"Then..." Yura murmured, retreating back into the changing room, "...We’ll just have to try harder."

Kira scoffed, brushing past Kentaro with a whisper that made his stomach flip. "You’re not escaping this time, husband."

Seconds later, Yura stepped out again, this time in a deep sapphire-blue lace piece that left far less to the imagination. It hugged her frame perfectly, a silk ribbon tied teasingly at her collarbone. Her cheeks were faintly pink, but her composed voice betrayed nothing.

"How about this one...?" She asked softly, taking slow steps toward Kentaro, the sway of her hips making his face burn hotter.

Kira refused to lose. She emerged in sheer crimson lace, a dangerously low-cut corset barely covering enough to remain legal in public. She ran a finger along the strap, leaning in close to Kentaro’s ear. "Eyes on me, husband. This is what you really want."

Shogo’s voice blasted through Kentaro’s comms like a war siren.

"GOOD LORD, WE’RE AT DEFCON ONE! Dollar-store diva deploys subtle destruction, while Demon Empress just summoned the gates of lingerie hell! SOLDIER, REPORT YOUR VISUAL STATUS!"

Kentaro covered his ear, face blazing. "Shogo, shut up before someone-"

"DON’T YOU DARE PICK BLUE!" Shogo thundered. "Pick the red one! IT’S DANGEROUS! IT’S FATAL! IT’S EXACTLY WHAT WE NEED FOR TRAINING-AHHHHHHHHH!"

In the background, Haruka’s voice broke through: "Someone restrain that idiot before he combusts."

The duel escalated. Yura returned again, this time in a delicate ivory set with thin, lacey straps draping over her shoulders like a goddess descending from heaven. Kira countered with black velvet lingerie, paired with stockings and a garter belt that made Kentaro’s brain short-circuit.

Both women stood inches from him now, eyes locked, silently daring him to choose.

Kentaro stammered, backing against the wall. "I... I can’t... you’re both..."

Shogo’s voice reached a fever pitch: "HE’S GONNA FLATLINE. WE NEED A MEDIC! NO, WE NEED AN EXORCIST!!!!"

The store’s bell jingled violently.

"KENTAROOOOOO!"

Serica burst through the doors like a tidal wave, Tenka calmly behind her, sipping a smoothie. Serica’s eyes widened as they landed on Yura and Kira in their respective barely-there outfits.

"What... THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"

She stomped forward, grabbed Kentaro’s sleeve, and yanked him behind her. Yura blinked, frozen in place, before her gaze fell to the lacy straps barely covering her body.

Her entire face turned crimson. Finally, she realised what she was doing.

"K-KENTARO!" She squeaked, bolting behind the changing curtain like a startled rabbit. "D-don’t look!"

With Yura gone, Serica spun toward Kira, jabbing a finger. "You! You’re stalking him again!"

Kira tilted her head, arms folded, completely unbothered. "Stalking? No, I’m simply protecting my husband from homewreckers like you."

Serica’s jaw dropped. "H-HOMEWRECKER?! You’re the one sneaking into lingerie shops!"

"Protective wife duties," Kira replied flatly. "You wouldn’t understand."

Serica puffed her cheeks, stomping a foot, trying to argue back but failing miserably against Kira’s calm, merciless shots.

Finally, Kira turned to Kentaro, stepping close with an uncharacteristically soft tone. "Pick for me, husband. Which one?"

Kentaro glanced between Serica’s pleading look and Kira’s expectant stare. His brain screamed abort mission, but his mouth betrayed him.

"...The black one," he whispered.

Kira’s lips curled into a victorious smirk as she plucked it off the hanger. "Good choice... You know me well." With a teasing wink, she strutted out of the shop, leaving Serica steaming and Kentaro ready to faint.

A small voice peeped from behind the curtain. "...Kentaro?"

Yura poked her head out, still flushed red. "Wh-which one do you think I should get...?" she asked shyly.

Kentaro, cornered, swallowed hard. "Uh... the dark blue one."

Before he could hear Yura’s quiet, happy "Okay...," Shogo exploded in his comms:

"NOOOOOO! THAT’S A CRITICAL MISTAKE, SOLDIER! YOU SHOULD’VE GONE WITH THE RED! THE POWER MOVE!"

In the background: "Haruka here, we’ve got him restrained. Duct tape on the mouth. Problem solved."

Later that night...

After a long round of chaotic button-mashing and victory dances, the four finally crashed on the couch. Kentaro slouched with his head tilted back, half-asleep, while Serica hugged a cushion like it was her lifeline. Yura sat tucked in beside Tenka, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress before she finally spoke.

"Tenka..." she began softly, glancing at Kentaro, "...you’re with him a lot. Why?"

Tenka paused mid-sip of her soda, her usual teasing grin softening. "Why?" she echoed, setting the can down. "Because Kentaro... he’s my best friend. We’ve been through a lot together, more than anyone knows. He’s... someone I’ve had by my side most of my life."

She let out a tiny chuckle, her eyes briefly narrowing, not from malice, but from something deeper, unspoken. "Honestly... I can’t imagine our goal working without him."

Yura tilted her head. "Goal?"

Tenka smirked, brushing it off with a wave of her hand. "Ah, nothing you’d understand right now."

The room went quiet for a moment before Serica broke the silence, clutching her cushion tighter. "Well... we really need Kentaro too," she said with a warm smile.

Yura nodded, leaning closer to Kentaro’s shoulder. "Yes... I want to stay by his side as well. Forever, if he’ll let me."

Kentaro, half-asleep, gave a groggy laugh, unaware of how serious they were. "You’re all stuck with me anyway..."

Tenka glanced at him, her usual teasing tone replaced with something almost protective. "Yeah... we are."

*

In the dimly lit streets of Tokyo, where neon signs flickered and the hum of late-night life blended with the rumble of passing trains, a girl strolled alone. A small lollipop stuck out from her lips, the candy clicking softly against her teeth as she walked with deliberate slowness, seemingly lost in her own world.

No one noticed her. People were too busy rushing home, faces buried in glowing phones, the city’s noise swallowing her presence whole.

Until he noticed.

A man in his early thirties, his tie hanging loose around his neck, breath reeking of cheap alcohol, stumbled from a bar’s alleyway. His eyes, glazed with lust and arrogance, locked onto her small frame like a predator spotting prey.

"Hey there, sexy," he slurred, swaggering forward. "Why’s a pretty thing like you out here all alone?"

The girl didn’t stop. She didn’t even flinch. She kept chewing her candy, her long crimson pigtails swaying lazily with each step.

"Can I help you?" she asked flatly, her voice smooth but cold, her emerald-tipped hair catching the dim light as she turned her head slightly.

He grinned, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder and trying to steer her into a narrow back alley.

"Yeah, you can help," he said, voice low and venomous. "My girl dumped me not too long ago... and damn, I’ve been craving a little action. You’re perfect. Let me show you a good time."

Her steps halted. She slowly turned her head to meet his gaze, no fear, no hesitation. Just an unreadable calm. She took the candy stick out of her mouth and spat the half-dissolved sweet directly onto his cheek.

"Get lost, perv," she said sharply, brushing past him back toward the crowded street.

The man froze, fingers touching the sticky trail sliding down his face. His eyes burned with fury.

"You little bitch!" he roared, lunging forward and yanking her shoulder with bruising force. "If you’re not gonna let me, I’ll just have to forc-"

The words died on his tongue.

A sound, soft, melodic, and almost hypnotic, began to hum from her lips. It was barely audible over the city noise, yet it was everywhere, like the melody was threading through his skull. His breath hitched. His arms locked. He couldn’t move. No... his body was moving, but not his own way. Each note she hummed tugged his limbs like invisible strings.

The girl slowly turned, her emerald eyes glinting with cold amusement.

"Echo Drive..." she whispered.

A faint light swirled around her hand, sparkling motes gathering in a spiral until an instrument materialized, an elegant, futuristic guitar. Its body glimmered with cyan veins of energy, its edges sharp like a weapon forged for both music and war.

The man blinked in disbelief.

"A... guitar? What the hell are you gonna-"

The first chord silenced him.

A hauntingly beautiful sound poured into the alley, sorrowful and sweet, like the guitar itself was weeping. The melody wrapped around him like chains, squeezing until his thoughts drowned in overwhelming despair.

Memories surfaced unbidden. His mother’s voice. Regret. Failures.

Loneliness. The unbearable weight of self-hate crushed his chest, pressing the air from his lungs.

"I... I’m sorry... Mom..." he sobbed, his knees trembling as he staggered deeper into the alley.

The girl’s expression didn’t change. She played another chord, the sound bending reality itself. This time it wasn’t just despair, it was compulsion. His hand reached for a broken glass bottle from the ground, his face contorting in silent terror as he tried, and failed, to resist.

"No... no... I don’t... want to..."

But her melody was a puppeteer’s command. His arm raised, trembling, the jagged edge poised above his wrist.

The final note struck like a blade.

SLICE.

The bottle shattered as he crumpled, lifeless eyes staring into the dark.

The glowing guitar in her hands dissolved into shimmering light, fading into nothingness. The girl looked down at him with a faint scoff, brushing a strand of crimson hair behind her ear.

"You deserved that," she muttered.

Without another glance, Siren stepped out of the alley and melted back into the bustling Tokyo crowd. Around her, life carried on as though nothing had happened. But every step she took left behind an invisible ripple, a whisper of power that made people subconsciously step aside, not daring to meet her eyes...