Ayano's Forceful Love Triggered Kiyoharu's PTSD

Kiyoharu's proposed challenge had simple rules: every student would draw his portrait within the time limit, with no restrictions on style.

Once time was up, they would photograph all the drawings and send them to Airi, letting Kiyoharu's fiancée choose the best one.

"What's the reward?" asked the girl who had once been suspected of having improper designs on Kiyoharu's sneakers.

"My after-school tutoring. You may freely choose any weekday club activity period to claim it."

Kiyoharu said it without blushing or missing a beat.

At first glance, the reward seemed like "a father rewarding his good son with a set of study materials—actual study materials," but that was not the case.

Even the time for answering questions after class required lining up. Do not question the popularity of a star teacher!

Ayano had thought the students would laugh, but they did not. Within the astonishingly brief two minutes Kiyoharu set on his phone timer, everyone present swiftly threw themselves into drawing with fervor.

The scene reminded Ayano of when she had first begun learning to paint. She had been very, very young then, and the studio had been filled with children from affluent families like hers, laughing and playing, chasing one another through the lush courtyard after class.

After so many years, Ayano felt the air of youth once more. She just had not expected the occasion to be such a strange "competition."

Kiyoharu served as the model. The classroom was so quiet that only the scratch of pens remained. Ayano could not quite stay there any longer, so she went into the hallway alone for some air.

Before long, a message from Airi arrived.

Airi: Is Kiyoharu-kun with you?

Ayano: Yeah. He's in the arts club soothing children.

Airi: Fine. That guy soothes children every day and never gets tired of it... Tell him to reply to my messages once he's done.

Did she really need to tell him that?

Three years was enough time for the Young Lady to train anyone into someone who answered her every request. Ayano did not think Kiyoharu was the type to be trained, but he took their engagement seriously. Once he finished being a model, he would surely reply.

Ayano sensed an unusual... resentment in Airi's words?

Or perhaps dependence. How ridiculous—would Airi really depend on Kiyoharu?

Airi seemed somewhat frustrated and wanted someone to talk to. Since Kiyoharu was unavailable, she told Ayano instead. She had uncovered an unusual movement of funds, and only after peeling away layer upon layer of shell-company accounting disguises had she confirmed that Airi's second uncle was behind it—Gen'ichiro's younger brother.

Airi: Department Head Kuroda is a loyal dog of my second uncle's faction. Combined with their earlier dissatisfaction over the portion of the supply chain under my control, they're probably going to make a move in that area. I just don't know how yet. Tch, what a pain.

Ayano: The Chihaya Conglomerate's suppliers are all businesses supported by the family. They can't be replaced easily, can they?

Airi: There have always been disagreements within the family about that, for example...

Airi: Forget it. We'll talk once Kiyoharu-kun is done.

Whenever conversations reached points like this, Ayano could always sense Airi's disdain for her at the core of her being. That was understandable. After all, Ayano looked down on Airi too. People with different dispositions naturally looked down on one another; it was difficult for people to truly understand each other.

Airi was gifted at running businesses and highly driven, while Ayano preferred quietly tinkering with her own work alone. She had thought that was merely a difference in personality—until the family upheaval in the year she graduated middle school.

The crisis the Kitahara Family faced that year had shaped Ayano into who she was now, making her deeply aware of just how unusual she was.

"Everyone, thank you for your hard work!"

"No, no, Chihaya-sensei worked harder. You sat there the whole time providing us with material..."

"Sensei, I have a question!"

"Go ahead."

"If we draw you too handsome, won't your fiancée get mad?"

Kiyoharu looked at the girl who had once seemingly coveted his sneakers and muttered inwardly that she was really full of drama. Out loud, he smiled. "Of course not. It's just a normal exercise. It's a sketch, not a candid shot. All right, sign your drawings and hand them in. You may all leave now. Remember to send the photos to my work email."

After the students dispersed, Ayano returned to the classroom and looked at Kiyoharu as he arranged the desks and chairs. "Thank you for helping me out, Kiyoharu-kun."

"It was nothing." Kiyoharu paused, then said earnestly, "Miss Kitahara, you really aren't suited for school work. Rather than suffering through the students' glares every day, you should focus on creating."

"It'll be fine as long as Kiyoharu-kun helps me."

Damn it, are you really going to cling to me now?

Kiyoharu ground his teeth in irritation and could not help checking the system interface. He currently had 110 Energy Points in reserve. Ten of them had come from massaging Airi's feet, which was enough to show how professional his technique was—the pleasure value he gave Airi had directly reached its limit.

No, this was too slow. He still had to find some tasks and escape the Canvas Devil's control as soon as possible.

Kiyoharu pondered for a moment, then suddenly noticed that Ayano had drawn all the curtains in the cool oval classroom.

"Miss Kitahara, what are you doing?"

"Would you like finger-tracing service?"

Though her words were phrased as a question, she directly locked the classroom door, turning it into a "secret room" where nobody outside could see what was happening within. The lighting instantly became suggestive. Ayano pushed several stools together in a row, then sat elegantly at one end with her knees pressed together and gestured for Kiyoharu to come over.

"During club time every day from now on, I can provide Kiyoharu-kun with service. Of course, if Kiyoharu-kun wants to unlock more private services, that is possible too~"

"What if I refuse?"

Ayano did not answer. She simply pulled down the zipper behind her, removed her fitted dress and the layer beneath it, and tossed them onto the floor. Only two thin pieces of fabric remained on her body, and her lovely figure was abruptly laid bare before Kiyoharu's eyes.

There was a trace of crazed resolve in the way she looked at him.

There she went again. It was as if she did not care about her reputation at all, and she showed no hesitation in using it to threaten him. In a way, perhaps she had some self-destructive tendencies?

With no other choice, Kiyoharu lay down on Ayano's smooth thighs despite himself.

Unlike Airi's bold, vibrant body fragrance, Ayano's scent was like... a coffee shop opened inside a flower store?

In any case, it was a scent that made one feel relaxed and at ease.

Seemingly noticing Kiyoharu's slight sniffing motion, Ayano suddenly smiled. "Kiyoharu-kun, do you know Kampo?"

"I know a little," Kiyoharu said modestly.

That truly was modesty. In fact, one of his girlfriends in his previous life had been a top student at a university of traditional Chinese medicine and pharmacy. Through constant exposure, Kiyoharu had actually learned quite a lot.

Later, on the day Kiyoharu had been stabbed to death, he had unknowingly consumed a special herbal concoction prepared by that girlfriend. She had told him it was health tea, but it was actually a customized prescription meant to leave him unable to resist while making certain parts of his body exceptionally strong and vigorous.

Kampo was fascinating, wasn't it?

"From a very young age, Mother strictly regulated my diet and made me take Kampo at set times every day to improve my constitution, so that I could cultivate a... well, scent that men like very much and that is suitable for being a wife."

"...What kind of scent is that?"

"Don't you feel very comfortable right now, Kiyoharu-kun~?" Ayano looked a little proud. "I think your mouth and nose have been working harder than an old chain-smoker's."

"It is quite nice."

Kiyoharu gave a rather dry compliment... He could not exactly insult it, could he?

Yet the praise did not come easily either, because this did not sound like something normal parents would do. It felt less like raising a daughter and more like breeding a prized pet.

Kiyoharu now understood Ayano's rebellious phase a little better. If his parents had used such insane methods to raise him from childhood, he would probably have done something crazy while young too.

Ayano's fingertips rubbed around Kiyoharu's ear.

This was Kiyoharu's favorite part of the finger-tracing technique. So long as he temporarily forgot the Canvas Devil's demonic nature, he could enjoy an experience of ultimate gentleness.

However, Kiyoharu's willpower was extraordinary, and he still remembered to check the system panel.

The last task involving Kitahara Ayano had appeared while he was resting on her lap and receiving finger-tracing. Should he try to trigger another one this time?

Compared with before, this service was an upgraded version. After all, Ayano was wearing less fabric, and resting directly on her thighs was even more wonderfully enjoyable.

If Kiyoharu merely shifted his gaze, he could admire Ayano's flat, perfectly lean stomach at close range. Her figure was slender without having the jarring boniness of someone skin and bones. Wherever there ought to be a little softness, there was plenty, and even her navel was clean and adorable.

Looking higher, he could see her white, girlish bra supporting delicate curves. A B cup, by the sizing standards of his previous life, was actually very suitable for a petite, slender girl. Combined with her overall appearance, it could easily awaken a man's protective instincts.

But Ayano did not give off any sense of needing protection. She only wanted to accomplish what her heart desired, whatever the cost.

"What is Kiyoharu-kun thinking about?"

"Tonight's dinner."

"I've always been curious. When boys are being naughty, what do they think about during the slower parts of the process... Your answer is very unusual."

"Is it?"

"Boys who cook are rare to begin with, unless they do it professionally." Speaking of this, Ayano once again wore that confident yet teasing expression. "Cooking was also something I was required to master from childhood."

"Then we can compare skills sometime."

"Some other day. What matters now is enjoying this, Kiyoharu-kun~ Stop thinking about your responsibilities of serving the Young Lady. Here, you'll be treated as an equal."

Kiyoharu thought that Airi did not treat him as less than a person either. Although she had just called him "little piggy" and made him lick her feet, overall, the two of them still had a harmonious cooperative relationship.

Besides, cooking was a hobby for Kiyoharu, not a burden.

It was not as though he had decided from the start that he absolutely had to cling to Airi. According to the game's setting, Tokyo had four great families, and the other families had outstanding, powerful women too. It was simply that being Airi's fake husband suited Kiyoharu extremely well.

Kiyoharu wanted to retort, but before he could open his mouth, Ayano suddenly reached out and turned his head toward herself.

Headlock!

His face was immediately pressed tightly against Ayano's stomach. That was not all. Ayano's hand continued exerting force, crazily forcing Kiyoharu's sharply defined features against her body.

"Breathe, yes, breathe... Just like last time. Use your breath to let me feel that loss of control and confusion. That's right, Kiyoharu-kun~ Try harder~ Mm-hm~"

Ayano's voice took on a crazed edge, and her behavior was just as unhinged. Caught off guard, Kiyoharu had trouble breathing, but the harder he gasped, the more intense Ayano's reaction became.

Kiyoharu felt as if he were about to drown against Ayano's soft, fragrant stomach.

It was not very long, yet it felt rather prolonged for both of them.

Suddenly, Ayano trembled uncontrollably in succession, only stopping after a full seven or eight seconds—long enough to swish a round of Chaoshan beef hotpot.

Her skin resembled freshly cooked tender meat too, pink with a flush of red.

"Thank you."

Ayano's chest rose and fell as she thanked Kiyoharu with satisfaction. The moisture in her eyes nearly overflowed, turning into tangible ropes that bound Kiyoharu tightly.

Kiyoharu recognized what that was—it was far from love, but it could already be called desire-level affection.

"Being lovers with you feels very comfortable, Kiyoharu-kun~"

Those words touched some sort of switch, making Kiyoharu recall so many relationships from his previous life. Familiar scenes flashed before his eyes, finally freezing on the moment before he died from a machete attack—the gradually dimming, fading gaze crossing a face as elegant as Ayano's.

That girl had liked making Kiyoharu rest on her thighs too, slipping her fingers into his hair and tracing lightly with a bit of pressure, like the gentle mother of a seven-year-old boy.

Some things he had thought he had long forgotten, washed away by the river of time and leaving only faint marks upon the riverbed. Yet when the silt buried beneath those traces surged forth, that familiar little feeling came scratching back.

Fuck, my PTSD is acting up!

Kiyoharu sprang away at once, retreating rapidly until his back hit the wall, where he stared at Ayano in alarm.

Huh? What was going on?

Ayano tilted her head, looking confused.

In her understanding, Kiyoharu was someone whose emotions fluctuated very little. His lonely maturity far surpassed what someone his age should possess, sometimes making Ayano wonder whether an old man's soul lived inside the shell of this beautiful boy.

Yet he had suddenly become so agitated.

Sparse insect chirps sounded outside the window, and the classroom's atmosphere grew strange.

Just then, Kiyoharu's phone began playing an impassioned symphony.

It was an insert song from a famous otherworld anime in this world, played whenever the Demon King, the great villain, made an appearance.

It was also the exclusive ringtone Kiyoharu had set for Chihaya Airi.

The Young Lady probably truly paid no attention to anime and had never raised any objections to it.

This call thoroughly revived the strange atmosphere. Kiyoharu instantly escaped his PTSD state—not because Airi had any healing effect, but because no matter how terrifying the past was, could it compare with the current Demon King?

"Go ahead..."

"Why didn't you reply to my messages?"

Good grief. That one question nearly triggered Kiyoharu's PTSD from another direction.

Come on, girl.

When had she switched to this clingy character type?

That slightly resentful way of asking was very unlike Airi.

Perhaps because they had worked together for a long time and grown familiar, she had become much more polite toward Kiyoharu. In the beginning, whenever Kiyoharu had been busy with other things and failed to reply promptly, Airi would call, say only "Check your messages," and hang up immediately, as though she were saving money on an international long-distance call in the last century.

"Sorry, I was busy just now. I'll reply right away."

"Mm... Wait."

"What else can I do for you?"

"...Never mind."

"All right, then I..."

"Don't hang up yet."

Who were you playing tug-of-war with here?

Even 369 could not tug like you!

Kiyoharu was so irritated that he laughed.

Airi seemed to be embarrassed on the other end as well. After a brief pause, she finally said, "Since we're already on the phone, let's just discuss it here."

"Understood."

Seeing that the call seemed likely to drag on, Ayano blinked and came up with another wicked idea.