Netori: I Shall Steal All Of My Enemies' Women For Revenge!

After an hour of intense discussion about the Terminator plan, the group decided to shift gears to a more casual conversation, lightening the mood.

"So, you're a third-year student, Yoshida," Enji said, nodding thoughtfully.

"But honestly, you look like the youngest here. Meanwhile, Haruto here looks like he's pushing twenty."

He sighed dramatically before turning to Arataki. "And don't even get me started on your style. What's with that green hair?"

"What do you mean? It looks good on me!" Arataki protested, furrowing his brows.

He turned to Ayaka for validation, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Right? It suits me, doesn't it?"

Ayaka smiled politely. "It's… a unique choice of color for hair."

Arataki squinted at her, immediately recognizing the veiled meaning behind her words.

Being close to his sister had taught him to decipher the subtle nuances of women's language. 'Unique' didn't necessarily mean good—it was a tactful way of saying 'weird.'

"Should I change my hair color?" he muttered, now genuinely questioning his decision.

Meanwhile, Haruto, who had been quietly absorbing Enji's earlier comment, frowned. "I don't look that old, do I?"

Enji chuckled. "Handsome? Sure. But you don't look like a teenager anymore. Maybe it's all the time you spend with older women."

He smirked. "You're aging yourself by chasing MILFs."

Haruto glared at him,"Tch, you did it on purpose did you?!" he whispered at him while Enji just gave him a smirk.

His eyes flicked to Ayaka, who was silently nibbling on a chocolate, her expression unreadable.

'She didn't even react… This girl is hard to read,' Haruto thought, trying to gauge her feelings about his reputation with women.

When her demeanor didn't change, he relaxed slightly. 'I guess that's better than her getting angry.'

Enji, on the other hand, was stewing in envy as he observed the couple's quiet harmony.

"Damn it, Haruto," he grumbled.

"Introduce me to one of your girls or something. I'm tired of watching you two be all lovey-dovey while I'm sitting here alone!"

Haruto waved him off with a sigh. "Didn't you brag about your 'high school student charm'? What happened to all that confidence?"
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"You—!" Enji slammed his hands on the table, ready to argue, but Old Futto interrupted him with a dramatic groan.

"All of you, stop this nonsense!" Old Futto scolded, crossing his arms. "Who cares about looking old? Haruto, you look fine. Arataki, your green hair is already cool—don't listen to Enji's babbling. And Enji, look at your own hair before criticizing someone else's."

The room fell silent, but Old Futto wasn't finished. "Enji, your personality is the real problem. Be more like Haruto—a gentleman!"

He pointed a stern finger at Haruto. "And you, stop building your harem and appreciate the women you already have!"

The sudden lecture left the three younger men stunned, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Well," Arataki said after a moment, nodding decisively. "I do look good with any hair color, but green suits me best."

"Personality, huh?" Enji murmured, rubbing his chin. "Is there something wrong with my personality?"

Haruto let out a long sigh, facepalming. 'How do I even explain my situation to Ayaka?'

Meanwhile, Old Futto lamented dramatically, his hands in the air. "Look at me! I'm old, sad, and I've never even touched a woman! You're all lucky with those young faces!"

Ayaka, who had been quietly observing the chaotic scene, offered a kind smile. "I think you're fine, Old Futto. You're a sweet man, and if you had more confidence, I'm sure you'd be loved by someone."

Old Futto froze, tears welling up in his eyes as her words sunk in. "What a sweet girl you are!" he exclaimed, visibly moved.

"This is the first time anyone's said that to me!"

Enji and Arataki exchanged amused glances before shrugging.

"She's right, Old Futto," Enji said. "You just need to get out more."

"Exactly!" Arataki chimed in, clapping a hand on Old Futto's shoulder. "You'll find your wife one day. Cheer up, man!"

"You guys are the best!" Old Futto sniffled, overcome with gratitude.

After a few more minutes of lighthearted banter, the group decided to give Old Futto a makeover.

With the idea of updating his wardrobe, they all headed to Arataki's closet, leaving Haruto and Ayaka behind.

Haruto decided to seize this moment to ask Ayaka out, though he hesitated at first.

He wasn't particularly fond of bringing up her past, but he knew it was unavoidable if he wanted to make her happy.

"Ayaka," he began, his voice gentle, "I'm free today. Why don't we go on a simple date after this?"

Ayaka's head lifted at his words, her eyes sparkling with a mix of surprise and excitement.

"Really? Where would you take me?"

Haruto leaned back slightly, scratching the back of his neck. "I was thinking… we could do something you've always wanted to do as a kid," he said, a hint of nervousness in his tone.

Then, with a deep breath, he added, "After hearing about everything you've been through, the only thing I want is to see you happy."

Ayaka's expression softened, but there was a flicker of sadness in her gaze.

"You must have felt so lonely back then," Haruto continued, his sincerity evident.

"I can't change your past, but I want to give you the joy you might have missed out on. So, whatever it is you've always dreamed of, let me take care of it for you today."

Ayaka widened her eyes, her lips parting slightly as if to respond, but no words came out.

Her gaze seemed to drift far away, lost in memories that weren't entirely pleasant. After a long pause, she finally spoke.

"I…" she hesitated, her voice almost a whisper. "I've always wanted to ride a Ferris wheel. Can you take me there?" Her words were simple, but the sorrow in her eyes spoke volumes.

Haruto's lips curved into a warm smile. "Of course," he said without hesitation.

"Today's all about you, Ayaka. I'll make sure it's a day you'll never forget."

Ayaka chuckled softly, tilting her head with a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, my prince," she teased, "you're treating me like I'm your only one." Her tone was light, but there was genuine warmth in her words.

Haruto smirked, shaking his head. "For today, you are my only one," he said earnestly.

A faint blush crept up Ayaka's cheeks, and she lowered her gaze, a genuine smile gracing her lips.

"What sweet words to say."

"Hey, check out Old Futto! Doesn't he look cool?"

Arataki announced as he burst through the door, leading Enji and Old Futto inside with a dramatic flourish.

Old Futto stood there, trying his best to look confident.

He now sported round sunglasses, a flashy red bomber jacket with a dragon embroidered on the back, a crisp white shirt underneath, and a pair of oversized baggy jeans.

A chunky gold necklace dangled around his neck, completing the look. His hair was deliberately left disheveled, as if to add an edgy touch.

Haruto squinted, fighting back a laugh that threatened to escape. "You guys…" he said, his tone full of disbelief.

"I think Old Futto needs a professional stylist, not… whatever this is supposed to be."

"Eh? What do you mean?" Arataki shot back, crossing his arms defensively.

"This style is cool, and it makes him look younger, doesn't it?"

Haruto let out a long sigh and walked over to Old Futto, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Listen, Old Futto, never trust these guys when it comes to fashion. Ever."

Old Futto slumped slightly, shaking his head. "Hah, I knew it! Rich people really don't understand style!"

Haruto raised an eyebrow, pointing at the oversized clothes. "And where on earth did you even find clothes in Old Futto's size?"

Arataki shrugged, looking entirely unapologetic. "I used to be pretty chunky back in the day," he said.

"These are my old clothes. Thought I'd put them to good use."

Enji, who had been unusually quiet, finally chimed in. "Honestly, Arataki, this just proves your style's is weird as fuck."

"Shut up!" Arataki snapped, glaring at him. "You didn't say a word when I was putting this together!"

"Well…" Enji scratched the back of his neck, his lips twitching into a smirk.

"I was too shocked by the sheer amount of clothes in your wardrobe. So I got distracted." he rubbed his neck as he actually even tried one of Arataki's clothes and even shoes.

Old Futto groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You guys are hopeless," he muttered, shaking his head in defeat.

The four of them exchanged glances before bursting into laughter, the absurdity of the situation finally sinking in.

Even Old Futto cracked a reluctant smile, shaking his head as he joined in.

Ayaka sat quietly on the sofa, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Watching their antics, she couldn't help but smile softly.

Their easy camaraderie and lighthearted banter warmed her heart, reminding her of how close-knit they were despite their constant teasing.

Something she never has before.