Kaguya-sama Wants My Surrender!

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Her hands were firmly tied behind her back. 

A towel was stuffed into her mouth. 

A blindfold covered her eyes, cutting off her vision. 

Having been through this scenario once before, Amamiya carried out the process with even more efficiency the second time. 

"Mm-mmph!" 

The succubus girl squirmed and struggled in vain, her resistance doing nothing more than adding a hint of drama to the situation. 

"Stop moving," Amamiya said firmly. His tone was calm yet serious. "Saving the world requires sacrifices. This is necessary." 

"…" 

Umi's spirit plummeted into despair. 

Sacrificing a girl's dignity to save the world? she thought bitterly. This world doesn't deserve to be saved! 

Moments later, Umi found herself replaying the humiliating experience of "The Fall of the Noble Girl" within the dream. It wasn't long before she broke free from the nightmare and returned to consciousness. 

"Mmmmmph—!" 

She blinked furiously, signaling her distress. 

Amamiya nodded in understanding and leaned forward to pull the towel from her mouth. 

"Cough! Pfft! Pfft!" 

Umi coughed and spat reflexively, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. She pouted, her voice brimming with indignation. "That's so disgusting!" 

"We're still in a dream," Amamiya explained evenly. "This towel isn't a real object, so it can't actually be dirty." 

"Even if it's not real, I still can't stand it!" Umi retorted, pouting again. Her flushed cheeks only deepened her glare of shame and irritation. "Hurry up and untie me already!" 

"Sure." 

Amamiya crouched behind her and began untying the ropes binding her wrists. 

"What's going on?" Umi asked after a moment, turning her head slightly. Her tone was a mix of confusion and frustration. "Didn't we just find Chika? Why are we back in this room?" 

"The dream world restarted," Amamiya said plainly. 

"Restarted?" Umi froze for a second, then quickly pieced things together. "Oh… that's right. This happened to me before, when I was with Shinomiya-san at the hotel. But back then, my body reset to its original position, and I still kept my memories." 

"This just proves one thing," Amamiya replied casually. "The dream we're in now is far more dangerous than the hotel in the real world." 

He paused, recalling Kaguya's ability to transform into a shadowcat and escape reality by blending into the shadows. 

That method wouldn't work here. 

When someone was trapped in a dream, the world they saw felt entirely real, making them oblivious to its falseness. In such a state, practical escape skills were meaningless. 

"Ah…" 

Umi let out a soft, startled hum. 

"What is it?" Amamiya asked, glancing up. 

"The rope," Umi said, her voice trembling slightly. Her flushed face burned even brighter as she pressed her legs tightly together. "Don't pull the rope like that!" 

Amamiya's gaze drifted downward, where her bathrobe had shifted. The fabric hung precariously, half-revealing her snow-white thighs. Her skin, smooth and pale as cream, glowed faintly in the dim light. 

"…Is the friction worse because you're not wearing stockings?" Amamiya muttered, half to himself. 

"How dare you tie me up like this?!" Umi snapped, mortified. Her body trembled from the lingering, unfamiliar sensation. Glaring at him, she demanded, "Why are you so good at this, anyway?" 

Amamiya met her gaze confidently. "Because I practiced on you, of course." 

Umi froze, staring at him in disbelief. "…" 

He continued, entirely unfazed by her reaction. 

"After playing Wet Miss Academy, I came to a profound realization." 

"…What realization?" 

"Traditional skills should not be underestimated or viewed with prejudice," Amamiya said, his tone calm but assured. "You never know when they'll come in handy—like now." 

As he finished speaking, the last knot came undone, and the rope fell away. 

---

Among the many traditional martial arts of Japan, there exists a skill known as 'hojojutsu'—the art of capturing and binding someone barehanded. Once a prominent technique with many practitioners, it's a serious fighting art akin to grappling. Though its popularity has waned, 'hojojutsu' still has its inheritors, and its applications remain timeless. 

Once someone is caught, they can't be held indefinitely, right? 

Thus, the art of rope-catching came into being. 

Originally developed as a supplementary skill to traditional capture techniques, rope-catching was a serious martial art applicable in various situations. However, during the Meiji Restoration, the widespread adoption of handcuffs led to its decline. Over time, some found new ways to adapt it, evolving it into what is now known as rope-binding. 

The art of rope-catching has been passed down through the centuries, giving rise to nearly two hundred distinct schools. Each school, in its quest for distinction, delved deeply into specialized techniques. As a result, modern rope arts in Japan have diversified into numerous forms, allowing for an almost infinite variety of practices. 

"Finally solved it." 

Umi exhaled, placing a hand on her chest as she stood. "By the way, where's Shinomiya-san? I can't see her anywhere." 

"I don't know." Amamiya shook his head. "The post-restart timeline is different. I haven't located Kaguya yet—I came looking for you first." 

"So, I'm the first one this time." 

Hearing this, Umi blinked, a playful smile lighting up her face. Without warning, she stretched out her arms and wrapped them around Amamiya's neck. 

"Master, did you enjoy yourself just now?" 

"Do I get beaten if I answer honestly?" 

"You won't." 

Flashing her small fangs, Umi leaned in and bit his neck. 

"But you 'will' get bitten!" 

"..." 

A sharp, fleeting pain was followed by the soft, feline-like lapping of her tongue. 

Umi quickly stepped back, wiped her lips, and said, "Punishment is punishment, but consider this a reward for coming to my rescue." 

"You call 'this' a reward?" Amamiya sighed, his expression deadpan. "If you're so bold, why not bite somewhere else?" 

What kind of reward is neck-biting? Any seasoned professional has seen this done before! 

"Ugh, pervert!" 

Umi clicked her tongue and urged him forward. "Let's go find the others!" 

Amamiya reminded her, "Change your clothes first." 

"Ehh?! Hehehe..." 

After donning her limited-edition succubus costume, Umi joined Amamiya as they left the room. 

Their first destination was the cherry blossom courtyard. 

Unfortunately, the bench beneath the tree was empty, and there was no trace of Miss Ice Sculpture. 

"What now?" Umi turned to him, a hint of exasperation in her tone. "Should we look for Shinomiya-san?" 

"It would take too long to track her down." Amamiya shook his head. "Let's check the cafeteria first—Chika might be there." 

"Alright." 

The two headed toward the cafeteria. 

Before long, they spotted a familiar figure: a pink-haired girl with a dark bow adorning her forehead. 

"There's Chika-chan!" Umi's eyes lit up as she pointed toward a corner of the room. 

Without hesitation, they approached her. 

"Chika-chan, we're here to find you!" Umi called out cheerfully. 

"Eh?" Chika looked up, her expression puzzled. "Natsuki-san, is that you?" 

Amamiya nodded. "It's me." 

"And you are...?" 

Chika turned her gaze toward Umi, her confusion deepening. 

"That's so mean!" Umi pouted, her tone full of mock indignation. "Chika-chan remembers Amamiya but not me?" 

It's no wonder. Memories of the game have been warped and suppressed. While Chika remembers me as a classmate, there's no reason she'd recognize this loudmouthed gal from the next class over! 

"Sorry," Chika apologized instinctively, her wide eyes blinking in confusion. "Um, do we know each other?" 

"Of course!" Umi placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest. "We're partners who've faced life-and-death situations together!" 

"Meow?" 

The pink haired girl tilted her head, her expression one of pure bewilderment. 

"What now?" Umi sighed, turning to Amamiya with a whisper. "Do we use the same method as before?" 

"Not in the cafeteria," Amamiya cautioned. "If we tie up Chika here, the others might interfere." 

He was right. The dream's inhabitants weren't mere puppets—they were real people. Seeing a sweet girl tied up in plain sight would certainly provoke a reaction. 

"The rope art won't work." Amamiya narrowed his eyes, his gaze settling on the top of the secretary's head. "You're different from Chika, so naturally, the method to awaken you will be different as well." 

"What kind of method?" Umi leaned in, her curiosity piqued. 

A prompt flashed before Amamiya's eyes. Lowering his gaze, he looked directly at Chika and asked, "Fujiwara-san, do you believe I can make food that glows?" 

"Of course not," Chika replied without hesitation. "How could glowing food exist in real life?" 

"Then, I'll show you." 

With that, Amamiya turned and approached a staff member in the cafeteria. After slipping some cash their way and a brief negotiation, he successfully transformed into an impromptu dark chef. 

It's worth noting that while the ingredients in this nightmare world appeared normal, they were anything but. They were dark ingredients, perfectly suited for unleashing Amamiya's culinary skills. 

Before long, a tantalizing aroma began to waft through the air. 

"S-Smells so good!" 

Chika's nose twitched as her eyes sparkled with anticipation. 

"It really does." Umi placed a hand on her waist, her expression full of surprise. "Amamiya-kun, since when did you become such a good cook?" 

"That's a secret." 

"…" 

The kitchen scene was mesmerizing—pots clanged, spoons flew, and grains of rice danced. With each ingredient added, the rich, complex aromas intensified, making the whole process seem like magic. 

Even the seasoned chef nearby froze in disbelief. 

Is it really possible to create such an enticing aroma with ordinary ingredients? 

Could all the years I've spent honing my craft have been a waste? 

Moments later, Amamiya set down his creation with a satisfied expression. 

"It's done." He presented the dish with a flourish. "Seafood Shrimp Supreme Egg Fried Rice." 

The cafeteria fell silent as all eyes turned to the plate in his hands. 

Bathed in light, the fried rice glowed with a golden sheen. Each grain was plump, translucent, and perfectly separated. Chopped green onions, shrimp, diced squid, and other ingredients dotted the surface, their colors vibrant and inviting. The aroma alone was irresistible, but the most astonishing detail was the faint glow emanating from the dish, enhanced by the colorful mist rising from its surface. 

Amamiya placed the plate on the table and handed a spoon to Umi.

"Here." 

"Eh?" Umi blinked, taken aback. "For me?" 

The fried rice was clearly meant to awaken Chika's memories. She had expected it to be offered to Chika, not herself. 

"Of course." Amamiya glanced at Chika and smiled mischievously. "I said I'd make glowing food for Fujiwara-san to see, but I never said she'd get to eat it." 

"That's too much! Way too much!" Chika protested, pouting in indignation. 

"So I really get to eat it?" Umi's eyes sparkled with excitement. 

"Hurry up," Amamiya urged. "Don't let it sit too long—the best flavor is right now." 

"Alright, I'm digging in!" 

Umi eagerly took a seat opposite Chika, scooped up a spoonful of the glowing fried rice, and brought it to her mouth as Chika watched intently. 

"Mmm..." 

The moment the rice touched her tongue, Umi let out a soft, satisfied moan that echoed through the cafeteria. 

No words were necessary. 

Her blissful expression and the way her actions quickened said it all. She couldn't stop herself—spoonful after spoonful disappeared as the small serving on the plate dwindled rapidly. 

"Natsuki-san!" 

Finally, Chika couldn't hold back. She tugged at Amamiya's sleeve, her expression pitiful and her tone pleading. She looked just like a puppy begging for scraps from its owner. 

Amamiya glanced down at Chika, his tone calm. "You want to eat too?" 

"I do!" Chika nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. 

"Sorry," Amamiya said with a small shake of his head. "I have a rule: I only cook one dish a day." 

"Why would you have such a rule!?" Chika pouted in frustration. 

"But," Amamiya added with a sly smile, "if you really want to eat some..." He turned toward Umi. "Leave one bite for Fujiwara-san." 

"I understand," Umi replied, her face flushing with delight. The happiness she felt was written all over her expression, though it dimmed slightly at the thought of sharing. 

Meanwhile, Chika's anticipation only grew. 

Normally, she'd refuse to eat something someone else had started, but this was glowing food—a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Nothing else mattered. 

Moments later, there was just one last spoonful of the luminous egg fried rice left on the plate. 

Umi set down her chopsticks with visible reluctance, leaning back in her chair as a dreamy smile spread across her face. Completely content, she looked like she didn't want to move ever again. 

Amamiya picked up the spoon, scooped up the final bite, and held it out toward Chika. 

"Ah..." 

Chika instinctively opened her mouth, leaning forward with excitement, ready to savor the final morsel. 

When is the best moment to eat a dish? 

The answer is when only one perfect bite remains. 

But merely tasting delicious food wasn't enough. 

To deliver the mental shock necessary for awakening her, one final step was needed. 

Clink. 

Amamiya suddenly released the spoon, letting it fall to the ground. The golden fried rice scattered across the floor. 

"Oops," he said with a shrug. "My hand slipped." 

"...!" 

As Chika stared at the fallen food in stunned silence, Amamiya added nonchalantly, "Actually, I did it on purpose." 

"…" 

The cafeteria was silent for a heartbeat before a wail echoed through the room. 

"That's so mean! Totally unfair!" Chika cried, her eyes brimming with tears. She pointed at Amamiya, her voice quivering with outrage. "Umi-chan ate everything, and the last bite—'the very last bite'—you just threw it on the ground on purpose! How could you be so cruel, Amamiya-kun!?" 

"Hey," Amamiya interrupted with a raised brow. "You just said my name, Chika. Does that mean you remember now?" 

Umi's eyes lit up as she leaned forward, her hands braced on the table. "You remembered? Chika-chan, what do you remember?" 

Chika blinked, rubbing her forehead as if trying to piece together fragmented thoughts. "Wait… Where even is this? What's going on?" 

"It worked," Amamiya said with a satisfied nod. He glanced at Umi. "Explain everything to her." 

"Leave it to me," Umi replied confidently, taking over the task of recounting the events and clarifying why Amamiya had acted as he did.