Kaguya-sama Wants My Surrender!

(For more chapters, visit my patreon.com/Fanfic69)

---

"That was dangerous. Too dangerous."

Amamiya's expression was grave. 

When confronted with such a perilous nightmare monster, there was no room for hesitation—it had to be eliminated swiftly. After all, advanced clairvoyance was merely a borrowed ability from Miko, a temporary skill that couldn't be sustained indefinitely. Time was of the essence. 

Exiting the bathroom, Amamiya stepped into the corridor. 

Umi was gone. 

On his way, he hadn't caught sight of Chika either. 

Retracing his steps, the courtyard with the massive cherry tree came back into view. 

Under the tree, the bunny girl still sat alone, unmoving. 

"There you are." 

Without hesitation, Amamiya walked straight toward Kaguya. 

She was seated beneath the sprawling cherry tree, a small bridge before her with water gently flowing underneath. 

"Shinomiya-san," Amamiya called out, raising a hand in greeting. 

"…" 

Kaguya lifted her head and gazed at him, her expression calm and detached. 

So cold. 

It had been a long time since he'd seen this distant, icy demeanor that kept everyone at arm's length. Recently, Kaguya had been more easily flustered, her face reddening or her composure slipping at the slightest provocation. The dignified 'Ice and Snow Kaguya' had become something of a rarity. 

But still… 

The bunny girl outfit ruined it. The stark contrast between her cold, stoic demeanor and the outfit's playful absurdity softened her intimidating aura, leaving her looking inexplicably adorable instead. 

(If I remember correctly, we've barely spoken since class assignments... So why is he coming over now? Does he want to chat?) 

As the eldest daughter of the prestigious Shinomiya family, Kaguya stood at the pinnacle of the academy in terms of both beauty and social standing. 

Her icy demeanor might deter most, but some dared to challenge her fortress-like indifference. Ever since middle school, Kaguya had received confessions at least once a month—be it through love letters in her shoe locker or bold proclamations face-to-face. 

And yet, every suitor walked away empty-handed. 

The letters in her locker? Handed over to Hayasaka to handle. 

As for face-to-face confessions… one glance was usually enough. 

Kaguya would meet the confessor's eyes with a calm, detached gaze, no longer than three seconds. Inevitably, they'd falter, look away in shame, and retreat in defeat. 

Just like now. 

Raising her head, Kaguya fixed Amamiya with that same icy stare and silently began counting in her mind. 

One second. 

Two seconds. 

Three seco— 

Amamiya smiled. 

The smile caught her off guard. It had been so long since anyone had held their ground against her ice-cold gaze. 

(What's wrong with this boy?) 

Kaguya's internal monologue faltered. 

(He didn't flinch. He didn't look away in guilt or run off… He even smiled at me?) 

(What a strange man.) 

While Kaguya silently processed her confusion, Amamiya closed the remaining distance, sitting beside her without hesitation. His demeanor was calm, almost casual. 

"Good evening, Kaguya." 

"…" 

Kaguya's brows furrowed slightly. 

(We're just classmates, and we've never spoken before. He's calling me by my first name and sitting so close… How 'insolent'! How 'shameless'!)

"If this is a confession," she said coldly, fixing him with her icy glare, "I reject it. You may leave now." 

(Hayasaka warned me about frivolous men. She said they're often trouble and should be avoided at all costs.) 

"Three sentences." 

Amamiya raised three fingers, his smile unshaken. "Give me three sentences, and you'll accept my confession." 

"Impossible." 

Kaguya's tone was sharp, her gaze colder than ever. 

Accept his confession in three sentences? Ridiculous. Even if he said three thousand sentences or thirty thousand, her answer would remain the same. 

"Is it impossible? You'll know after you hear me out." 

Before she could protest, Amamiya lifted a single finger. 

"First sentence." 

"…" 

Kaguya didn't move or get up to leave. 

Though she found his confidence infuriating, her curiosity got the better of her. 

"Have you seen 'The Matrix'?" Amamiya asked, his tone casual but probing.

Kaguya responded coldly, her voice devoid of emotion. "...I've heard of it."

The 'Matrix' trilogy, once hailed as a classic, had recently been marred by the poorly received sequel, 'The Matrix 4'. Although she hadn't watched it, Kaguya had heard Hayasaka and Chika vent their frustrations about it on numerous occasions.

Amamiya pressed on. "Do you think the world before us is real or an illusion?"

Kaguya's expression remained impassive. "If you're trying to discuss the brain-in-a-vat hypothesis..."

"Second question," Amamiya interrupted abruptly, raising two fingers for emphasis. "Do you like bunny girl uniforms?"

"Not at all."

"What would you do if someone forced you to wear one?" he continued, undeterred.

"Make them disappear," she replied without hesitation.

Damn girl! You're too dangerous! You can't just make people disappear like that! Amamiya mentally exclaimed.

"So..." Amamiya reached into his pocket, retrieving a small mirror. He held it up in front of Kaguya. "What are you wearing now?"

"Huh?!" For a brief moment, even Kaguya's usual icy demeanor cracked. Her eyes widened as she stared into the reflection.

Rabbit ears adorned her head.

A red bow sat neatly on her chest.

White, furry cuffs complemented an incredibly short—and deeply embarrassing—black stocking.

"How...?" Kaguya's lips parted slightly, disbelief etched across her delicate features. Surprise and confusion clouded her usually composed expression. 

Impossible! she thought. How could I be wearing something like this and not realize it?

Suspicion flickered in her mind. Could the mirror itself be faulty? Without saying a word, Kaguya turned on her heel and walked briskly to the nearby stream, leaning over to confirm her reflection in the water.

The gentle sound of flowing water accompanied the image of her mirrored form. The outfit hadn't changed.

A deep breath escaped her lips, and she bit down softly on her lower lip, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. There was no mistaking it: she was still wearing the humiliating bunny girl costume.

Kaguya's thoughts churned. Cognitive distortion? she wondered. Could this be why I didn't notice until now?

Amamiya observed her closely, his expression neutral but calculated. "Cognitive distortions make people unconsciously accept their altered state," he began. "But if someone points out the contradictions in their reality, they might start to wake up."

His voice drew her attention back to him. "Let's play a quick game," he said lightly. "If you can't answer within three seconds, we'll move to the next question. Ready?"

Without waiting for her response, Amamiya began. "Why did you come to the hot spring hotel?"

"I..." Kaguya hesitated, her voice trailing off.

"Next question." Amamiya continued without missing a beat. "What did you have for dinner?"

Silence.

"What's today's date?"

Still nothing.

"Did it rain during the day?"

"…"

Amamiya spread his hands in mock defeat. "See? You can't answer a single question."

"I remember now," Kaguya snapped, irritation lacing her tone.

"That's even worse," Amamiya countered seriously. "If you're suddenly 'remembering,' don't you think those memories might be planted? Like your mind is being quietly overwritten by some unknown force?"

Kaguya frowned deeply. Her fingers brushed against her temple, pressing slightly as a gnawing unease took root in her thoughts. Something was undeniably wrong.

Fragmented memories surfaced in her mind: having sushi for dinner, today being Friday, April 10th, and Hayasaka dragging her to the hot spring. But why couldn't she recall whether it had rained earlier? Why did something so simple feel just out of reach?

Are my memories real... or fabricated?

Taking a deep breath, Kaguya lowered her voice and asked sharply, "Who are you?"

Amamiya exhaled with an air of resignation. "If only I had red and blue pills for you to take," he muttered, almost to himself. Then, meeting her gaze, he continued, "We're trapped in a nightmare. To wake up, we need to find its core."

Under normal circumstances, Kaguya would have dismissed such a statement outright. The idea of the world being a nightmare sounded absurd, the kind of thing only a fool would entertain. Yet, after the rapid-fire questions and the unsettling inconsistencies in her memory, doubt had begun to creep in.

What if...? she thought hesitantly. What if he's not lying?

Amamiya watched as uncertainty flickered across her face. A seed of doubt had been planted. The question now was whether it would bloom in time.

"I can't believe it," Kaguya muttered, her brows furrowing in distrust. "I need more evidence."

Amamiya sighed and spread his hands in mock helplessness. "Even if you say that..." he began, "Your mother's name is Shimizu, and her maiden name is Nayotake."

Kaguya's expression remained impassive. "That kind of information is easily uncovered," she replied coolly.

Amamiya raised an eyebrow, his tone tinged with exasperation. "Do you have some misconception about how easy this is?" he retorted. "Details like these, tied to the private lives of prominent families, aren't something just anyone can dig up."

Kaguya remained unconvinced, her tone flat. "Do you have anything else?"

"You have a personal maid," Amamiya continued. "Her name is Hayasaka Ai."

Kaguya's lips barely twitched. "Bribe the villa staff, and you'll learn that much," she said dismissively.

I didn't realize you were this suspicious. 

With measured calm, Kaguya eased herself back onto the bench. Her gaze was cold, her voice even colder. "If you want me to believe you, bring conclusive evidence."

"Tsk~" Amamiya clicked his tongue and tilted his head. "Fine, here's something more personal: Chika told me that Hayasaka has the same flat chest as you and uses breast pads to fake it."

'Click.'

The temperature around Kaguya dropped sharply, as if an icy wind had swept through the area.

What's wrong with small breasts?! she fumed internally. I didn't ask anyone to fund my underwear, thank you very much!

Kaguya crossed her arms protectively over her chest and shot Amamiya a glare that could freeze fire. "Chika? Are you saying you're acquainted with Fujiwara-san?"

Amamiya nodded confidently. "Very well acquainted. She's trapped in this nightmare just like you, though I haven't figured out where she is yet."

Kaguya's eyes narrowed, and she fell silent for a moment before speaking. "...I remain skeptical."

Even so, she hesitated before conceding, her voice dropping to a murmur. "You may have a point about Hayasaka and those... pads. But if you're claiming Fujiwara-san told you, how do I know you didn't use some underhanded method to extract that information? It's hardly compelling evidence."

Her distrust was palpable. For Amamiya to convince her, he would need to reveal a secret so personal that no one else could know it—something only she was aware of. But such a secret wouldn't be accessible even to him.

"Ugh, what a headache," Amamiya groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, his expression turned solemn, and he straightened. "It seems I have no choice but to play my final card."

Kaguya tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "What is it?"

"Come closer, and I'll tell you," Amamiya said in a low, secretive voice. "No one else can hear this. It must remain confidential."

Kaguya hesitated, her instinct for caution warring with her curiosity. Finally, the latter won, and she leaned in.

A faint fragrance of orchid and musk wafted from her as she moved closer. Despite the surreal nature of the nightmare, the scent was unmistakably hers, authentic in every detail.

Amamiya's eyes flicked upward. Above her head, the ever-present nightmare system's hint glowed ominously:

[Your future wife is trapped in a nightmare and cannot break free. After careful observation, you realize that only strong mental stimulation can awaken her.] 

[After numerous attempts, you've concluded: only a kiss can save her.]