Four-Panel Comic, Little Demon and Saint

"Finished drawing?"

Tsukishima jolted, knocking over his chair with a clatter as he whipped around, hand pressed to his chest, panting heavily. "Damn, you didn't leave? Why'd you go quiet so long? Did you switch from being a saint covered in tally marks to a Sadako stuck inside a TV?"

Kushida rolled her eyes. "So you do know what fear is."

She walked over to Tsukishima, tentatively reached out, and pulled the drawing paper from his hand.

The moment her eyes landed on the paper, Kushida froze.

It was a four-panel chibi comic of Sig, with simple lines yet vivid likeness.

First panel:

A two-head-tall boy sat on a chair, tears streaming down his face, looking like a total pushover.

But behind him stood a miniature version of himself, grinning slyly, with two sharp little devil horns on his head.

In front of the boy stood a demure two-head-tall blindfolded nun, hands clasped, face full of piety.

Yet behind the nun, a long, thin devil's tail wagged restlessly.

Second panel:

The two-head-tall boy trembled, crouched in a corner with his head in his hands, looking utterly pitiful.

The miniature behind him, however, was rolling on the floor laughing, tears flying everywhere.

The blindfolded nun across from him had already shed her disguise, transforming into a scantily clad tsundere little devil holding a small whip, looking down smugly from above.

Third panel:

The art style suddenly shifted!

The two-head-tall boy stood with one hand on his hip, laughing heartily, while the other hand firmly pressed against the little devil's forehead, keeping her immobilized.

Thoughtfully, the artist had added a small note box beside the little devil, containing a cartoon pig charging forward wildly, with an arrow pointing straight at the little devil.

Fourth panel:

The boy flashed an extremely sinister grin. The miniature representing his inner self had already laughed so hard its face was just a gaping mouth, eyes squeezed shut.

And the once-arrogant little devil now sat obediently in a duck-like pose within the boy's massive shadow, trembling all over, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.

Seeing the "pig" meant to represent her and her humiliating defeat in the comic, Kushida's cheeks flushed. She gritted her teeth and said:

"That pig... are you implying that's me? And! Who was trembling! I was making a... strategic retreat!"

Tsukishima righted his chair, sat back down, spread his hands with an innocent look, and casually shoved the drawing into Kushida's arms:

"Art imitates life. Like it? It's yours, consider it a memento of our first 'deep exchange.'"

Then he sighed with feigned regret:

"Ah, I was planning to draw a doujin today, but you interrupted me. Next time, I'm definitely making you the heroine of my doujin. How about using this little devil design? I've already got the title: About My Roommate Actually Being a Sadistic Little Devil."

Kushida hugged the drawing paper with disdain and rolled her eyes even harder:

"Ha? I can lend you some women's clothes—draw yourself. Make both the male and female leads you, so you won't need a model and risk exposing your perverted secret!"

Tsukishima looked puzzled: "Is drawing doujin a secret?"

"Isn't it?" Kushida stared at him like he was an idiot. "Shouldn't something like that be done in secret?"

Tsukishima raised a finger with righteous confidence: "Of course not. Drawing doujin is meant to be shared. If you're not sharing it, why draw it at all? I'm going to debut as a doujin artist!"

"...You're really disgusting. Something like that should obviously be kept secret! Once you're exposed, you'll be socially dead!"

"It's a legitimate profession! Sure, the content's a bit questionable, but there's a big market for it. What does that tell you? It means people really like it! Besides, not many people know right now, and think about it—this school's so stressful, don't students need an outlet? We're all in our teens, at that age of curiosity and need!"

"Oh, really? Then I'll be sure to 'spread the word' for you—let the whole class, the whole school know about your grand dream!"

"That'd be great! Then someone might commission a doujin of you, hehe. Go for it, for my points! I'll even cut you in for ten percent!"

"Ha? I'm letting you disgusting guys 'do this and that' to me in your heads, contributing the character design and concept, and I only get ten percent? At least fifty-fifty!"

"You'd be lucky to get ten percent, and that's only if I'm feeling generous. If I didn't tell you, you'd get zero! That's the information fee!"

"Go die!"

Kushida gathered her clothes and stormed out the door.

Bang. The door slammed shut.

The hallway was bright with sunlight, the air fresh.

The moment the door closed, all the anger, irritation, and ferocity on Kushida Kikyo's face vanished without a trace.

She took a deep breath, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly into her signature, flawless sweet smile. Her eyes were clear and gentle, as if the girl who had been baring her teeth in that room had never existed.

"Oh my, what lovely weather today."

She murmured to herself, stepping forward with elegant strides. The four-panel comic lay quietly at the deepest part of her pocket.

A few passing boys saw her and immediately blushed as they greeted her: "Kushida-san, what a coincidence~"

Kushida's face lit up with feigned surprise: "Eh~ It really is a coincidence. Isn't it late? Don't you need to rest? Do you need my help?"

The boys scratched their heads, their faces reddening further. They exchanged glances, then frantically shook their heads: "No, no, it's nothing. We just got together to... uh... read some manga..."

Kushida's face showed just the right amount of curiosity. "Oh? What manga? I've been helping Tsukishima with his manga lately—can I take a look?"

The boys panicked, closing ranks around one of them like they were facing a dire threat. "That... that's not really the same kind of thing Tsukishima's drawing..."

"Yeah, yeah, totally different genre. It'd mess up Kushida's creative flow..."

Kushida's expression fell into disappointment. "I see... well, okay then. Everyone should get some rest, though—midterms are coming up!"

Cursing inwardly: Tsukishima really called it, huh. Is the demand for smut books in this school really that high?

Relieved, they immediately grabbed the boy in the middle and bolted. But the sudden force threw him off balance—his foot slipped, his hand loosened.

Thump!

A book slid right to Kushida's feet.

A stray breeze flipped open the yellowed pages.

"AHHH!!!"

One of the boys charged back, snatched up the book, and sprinted off like a freak, vanishing down the hall in seconds. The others followed like the wind.

Kushida let out a startled cry. "Hey! Don't run in the hallway—it's dangerous!"

Why don't you just trip and break your necks! The pages are yellow, the corners are curled—how many generations has that smut book been passed down?! Damn it, that pervert Tsukishima might actually rake in a fortune in points!