Romantic Troubles of Duanmu-kun

Through regular wrist-cutting practice, repeatedly engraving the experience of being on the brink of death deep into their hearts—

“We are different from them.” “We do not fear death.” “We love and embrace the dead.”

Thick-Brows continuously instilled such words into her worshipping followers.

But in Asami Yuko’s view, these girls’ willingness to do such dangerous things seemed more like entertainment to dispel the emptiness of their lives, driven by a combination of morbid curiosity and herd mentality.

Realistically speaking, the success rate of suicide by wrist-cutting wasn’t particularly high. In the vast majority of cases, experimenters would at most cut through the surface skin, with only a few determined individuals with high pain tolerance managing to sever tendons; those who could actually cut through the radial artery were exceedingly rare, and it was simply impossible to achieve with an ordinary utility knife.

Furthermore, the body’s self-healing function would also hinder the process. Suicide attempters often fainted from excessive blood loss during wrist-cutting. But before bodily functions decreased to a critical level, the wounds on their hands would clot.

The common scene on television where suicide attempters placed their cut wrists in bathtubs filled with hot water was precisely to prevent blood clotting.

…Generally speaking, stabbing the neck would be quicker, as the protection around the carotid artery was relatively fragile. Even a frail high school girl with a small knife could cause blood to gush out like a fountain, whether directed at herself or others. Oh my, this part is just a joke.

At this point, Thick-Brows’ subordinates began distributing wrist-cutting practice tools to the high school girls. Everyone received one—the common utility knives sold in stores.

The companions beside her, practiced and familiar, began their exercise, placing the sharp blade against their wrists and pressing down without blinking. The cold metal cut into human flesh, warm blood welling up from the wounds.

At everyone’s feet, droplets of blood surged like a crimson garden blooming in midsummer, giving one this strange illusion.

Speaking of which, last week at the gathering, some fool pressed too hard and immediately passed out. After everyone, including Thick-Brows, panicked, that person was apparently now recovering in the hospital.

Asami Yuko frowned, holding the blade up to the sunlight, confirming it was a newly opened product. She dared not risk any potential blood contact with the girls around her. The young woman hesitated for a while, seemingly still uncomfortable, and when no one was looking, she extended her delicate pink tongue and licked the blade twice, barely qualifying as sterilization.

Next came the roof-jumping rehearsal.

The howling wind on the rooftop grew increasingly biting. The uniform jackets and shirts might as well not have existed.

The girls held hands, linking arms with each other, collectively standing on steps just one step away from the ground. More than thirty people crowded the left, right, and front three sides of the entire rooftop.

Doesn’t it look like a group of high school girls waiting for a train on the platform? But this time, the destination might not necessarily be a happy future!

“…Ha.”

She exhaled.

Perhaps passengers sitting on a roller coaster at an amusement park felt something similar.

The experience of heartbeats accelerating along with the machinery.

Doki Doki.

Palms becoming slightly sweaty.

Among the thirty-plus people standing on the rooftop, if even one harbored suicidal intentions and took the leap, the rest would likely accompany her to the underworld—

The companions beside her continued to gaze down at the ground or stare at the horizon, their expressions a mixture of fear and excitement, trembling all over, whether from the temperature or their emotions, was unclear.

Tribute time.

“Mutsumi, you disappoint me. Is this the extent of your love for me?”

Thick-Brows was caressing the face of the girl lined up in front, the “rustle” sound between her fingers and the girl’s cheek resembling insects crawling across paper pages.

“I-I’m sorry, Mitsue-sama, I’ll work harder…”

The round-faced girl walking past with a dejected expression wore the uniform of private Yuihara High School, which caught Asami Yuko’s attention.

But only slightly.

When it was her turn, she was the last one. Asami Yuko respectfully placed a stack of bills in Thick-Brows’ hand. Then as she prepared to leave—

“Yuko.”

The other called out to her from behind.

“So cold, Yuko. Don’t you want our relationship to become more intimate?”

A chill ran up Asami Yuko’s spine.

An uncomfortable feeling of goosebumps all over her body.

“No, um…”

Her mind raced through various excuses, but the two guardians had already grabbed Yuko’s frail shoulders from both sides, dragging her into the dim stairwell.

The door to the rooftop was mostly closed.

The view of others had been blocked.

Forced into a dimly lit corner by three people who stared at her intently, Asami Yuko realized her intentions had been exposed.

“Ah… this is troublesome.”

Despite her words, Yuko’s expression didn’t show any particular concern.

“Don’t you want to explain anything, Yuko?”

As Mitsue-sama spoke, her hot and sticky gaze wandered all over Yuko’s body. Because they were on the quiet staircase, she could hear clearly that the other’s breathing was as heavy as her eyebrows.

…Yuko-chan in big trouble!

Not just her money, but her chastity also seemed threatened! Thinking there was nothing to worry about because the other was a girl was her biggest mistake.

“Yuko, if you sincerely become one of us, we can let bygones be bygones.”

Mitsue-sama looked at her with loving eyes.

But she paid no attention to that.

After silently learning her lesson, Asami Yuko began to consider how to escape.

Then.

She saw the face of a familiar male student, poking his head up from the bottom of the stairs, nodding at her. The other three clearly hadn’t noticed this.

Ah… I see.

So that’s how it is.

Asami Yuko’s mood relaxed.

She lowered her hands and walked toward Thick-Brows, who had opened her arms and was showing a satisfied expression.

“Excuse me… Whoa! Wait!”

“Bang!”

“…”

Upon realizing someone else had intruded, and a male student at that, the two tall girls beside Thick-Brows charged forward aggressively without needing orders.

In that instant, Asami Yuko raised the utility knife hidden in her sleeve and placed it against Thick-Brows’ neck. Just as the other was about to cry out, the young woman applied slight pressure, and fresh blood slowly flowed from the cut skin, dripping down along with cold sweat from her forehead.

“You…”

“Don’t speak. Don’t let others discover us.”

Yuko concealed her threatening action in the shadows.

“Cutting someone’s neck is much easier than cutting a wrist. Even a physical weakling like me can do it. You understand clearly, right?”