Tokyo's Phantom Thief

"..."

"..."

Inside the love hotel room, Asakura Rinto and Suzui Shiho sat in awkward silence, their eyes darting in opposite directions to avoid each other.

"Hoooogh… zzzzzz... (snore snore)"

Takamaki Ann was sprawled out in a starfish pose across the bed between them, snoring with wild abandon.

Originally, since they were both girls, the Yoshizawa sisters had gone home early.

Rinto had planned to wait outside the hotel to avoid any misunderstandings.

But just as he was about to leave, Shiho had clutched his arm with tear-bright eyes, the kind of expression no man could easily refuse.

She really had been frightened today.

And if she were left alone with a soundly sleeping Ann, she'd probably start spiraling and scaring herself.

So in the end, Rinto stayed.

But since he had only booked a standard room with a double bed, there was practically nowhere else to sit or lie down.

Ann was out cold on the bed, occasionally murmuring in her sleep.

Shiho sat at the edge of it to take care of her, gently pulling the blanket back over her every time Ann kicked it off.

Rinto, for his part, tried his hardest to be invisible.

He tucked himself into the narrow space between the bed and the wall like a gloomy stage prop, silently repeating meditation techniques.

...Why am I doing this again?

Even Rinto didn't quite understand himself.

In the three years since crossing into this world, he hadn't exactly had much luck with women.

Sure, he'd held plenty of girls while saving people in another world.

He'd even shared beds with some for days at a time, made lifelong promises and the like.

But that was all in extreme, otherworldly circumstances.

Most people who returned from that world had some degree of memory loss or emotional instability.

So Rinto had never taken any of it seriously. He hadn't built any relationships that lasted beyond a chance encounter.

And yet here he was—at a love hotel, for the second time in a row… with not one, but two beautiful girls.

Compared to the Yoshizawa sisters, with whom he was already familiar, being around Ann and Shiho made him even more nervous.

He and Shiho sat in mutual silence, neither of them knowing what to say. They didn't even make eye contact.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and dinnertime rolled around, Shiho—after hours of deliberation—finally gathered the courage to speak:

"Asakura-kun… are you hungry? Should we order some room service? Maybe some takeout?"

"That could work, but… wouldn't it disturb Ann's rest?"

Rinto glanced at Ann, who was still happily fast asleep.

They were both too worried to leave her, but eating in the room risked waking her up, so they treaded carefully.

Shiho nodded in understanding, brushing a hand through her ponytail.

"What did Ann go through to be this exhausted…? If someone gave her some kind of weird drug or something…"

Her face was etched with worry, clearly imagining the worst.

Since Rinto couldn't explain anything about the otherworldly incident, he'd lied and said he found Ann wandering in a daze near the station alleyway.

Even though that story sounded plenty concerning, there wasn't much else he could say. They'd just have to improvise once Ann woke up.

Rinto gave her a reassuring smile.

"It'll be okay, Suzui-san. Look how peacefully she's sleeping—that means nothing serious happened. Even if someone did drug her, a good nap should clear it up."

"…Yeah. I hope so."

Shiho nodded gratefully.

She was the type to overthink things—a sensitive, thoughtful girl.

Which was why she needed a friend like Ann, someone more spontaneous to balance her out. The two made a good pair.

Now that the ice had been broken, Shiho finally seemed a bit more at ease.

She stood up from the bed and straightened her skirt.

"I'm kind of thirsty… They should have bottled water in this kind of hotel, right? I'll check the cabinet."

"Ah—Suzui-san, wait…"

Rinto, who had (unwillingly) become something of a love hotel expert after last time, suddenly remembered how Kasumi had rummaged through drawers and uncovered… things.

He tried to stop her.

But he was a step too late.

Shiho opened the cabinet without a second thought. Sure enough, there were a few sealed drinks inside.

Right next to them, though, were several brightly colored boxes, each containing various accessories of questionable use—and an array of… equipment, both big and small.

One item in particular, soft and cup-shaped, caught her eye.

"Huh? Is this… a sports water bottle? It's all squishy. Is it made to be drop-resistant? But why would a hotel have this kind of—KYAA!?"

Completely innocent to such matters, Shiho turned the package around and was immediately greeted by a very vivid illustration.

It struck her like a freight train. She screamed and staggered backward in a panic.

Her shin caught the bed frame. She lost her balance—and fell toward Ann.

In a swift motion, Rinto grabbed her arm.

He pulled her in with the grace of a ballroom dancer, catching her slender waist and steadying her against his chest.

"..."

"..."

Their faces were only inches apart. They stared into each other's eyes, close enough to see their own reflections.

…If Rinto had to be honest, his first impression was that Shiho's build was far sturdier than he'd expected.

No wonder—she was a volleyball player since childhood. Tall (nearly 180 cm), with long limbs and a lean but toned frame, her waist felt surprisingly firm beneath his hand.

Compared to the Yoshizawa sisters, she was at least two sizes up in every department. It was like going from 1080p to 4K.

And now, pressed flush against his chest, he could feel every soft, springy curve—carried on the scent of shampoo and antiperspirant.

This girl had way more womanly charm than he'd ever imagined. Rinto forgot to let go.

Even worse—Shiho didn't push him away.

"Asakura-kun…"

Cradled in his arms, she seemed to have found the emotional anchor she'd been longing for, leaning all her weight into him.

She forgot the embarrassment of being touched, the anxiety of being held.

Instead, she realized that Rinto, too, felt stronger than he looked.

But without the sweaty stench or grungy aura of other athletic guys—there was a calm, masculine warmth to him.

Her teary eyes shimmered, filled with his reflection.

Rinto opened his mouth, trying to say something.

"Suzui-san…"

"Shiho," she corrected him gently. "Just like you call Ann—please… call me by my name."

Gulp.

Let's be perfectly clear.

At seventeen years old, boy or girl—you're basically just a hormone-charged monkey in a human skin.

Rinto just happened to be better at pretending otherwise. He could keep his composure around the Yoshizawa sisters and his housemate Momoka—people he considered his own.

But when it came to Shiho, a girl he barely knew, he had no such immunity.

One moment of vulnerability, and instinct took the wheel.