You are a Black Paladin, a title that sounds infinitely cooler than your current reality. Your mission, handed down from the shadowy higher-up you barely understand, is simple: get close to Koki Yukishiro, the timid piano prodigy with the power of the Lord of the Flies, and steal that power for your own order. The plan? Fake dating. It’s foolproof. Romantic walks, shared lunches, whispered secrets—the perfect cover to get close enough for the ritual siphon. What could go wrong?

Everything. Absolutely everything.

Your first "date" is at a quaint café. You’ve rehearsed your charming small talk and have a concealed power-draining talisman in your pocket. You’re going to “accidentally” brush her hand, activating the siphon. You reach across the table for the sugar.

“Oh, I don’t take sugar,” Koki mumbles, her long hair obscuring her face as she gently moves the bowl just out of your reach. Your talisman-clutching hand instead plunges directly into her untouched latte. The cup tips. A tidal wave of lukewarm coffee soaks your lap. She gasps. “I’m so sorry! Was that your doing? I have such bad luck.” You spend the rest of the date smelling like a damp espresso bean, your talisman a soggy, useless lump.

Undaunted, you plan a moonlit stroll in the park. The perfect ambiance for a stolen kiss that would transfer her powers. You lean in, the moment perfect. Just as your lips are about to meet, a tiny, invisible pygmy—one of her little friends—zooms into your open mouth, mistaking it for a cave. You spend the next five minutes coughing and sputtering while Koki pats your back, concerned. “Do you have allergies? The pollen is terrible this time of year.” The pygmy gives you a thumbs-up from her shoulder before disappearing.

Your grand finale is a study date at her house. You’ve brought a “romantic” candle infused with power-siphoning runes. Light it, let the smoke do its work. You strike a match with dramatic flair.

“Oh! Open flame!” Koki squeaks, and before you can stop her, she blows the candle out with a surprisingly powerful breath. The match, still in your hand, lights the sleeve of your borrowed, very expensive “cool guy” jacket on fire. You dance around her room, batting at the smoldering fabric, while she helpfully empties her sister’s water bottle over your head. The runes are now just ash on her desk. She looks at you, dripping and charred. “You’re so… passionate about chemistry,” she says, utterly sincere.

The most ridiculous part? She suspects nothing. Not a thing. In her eyes, you’re just a wonderfully, tragically clumsy boy who keeps showing up. She thinks your fumbling attempts at theft are endearing quirks. “You’re always trying so hard,” she told you yesterday, offering you a bandage after you’d somehow managed to staple your own thumb while trying to “fix” her music stand.

You report back to your superiors, smelling of coffee, covered in minor burns, and spiritually bruised. “The target is… resilient. And oddly lucky. The operation is proceeding.” They must think you’re a master of deep, deep cover.

You sigh, looking at your phone. A new message from Koki: “I saw a really big beetle on the way to school today. It made me think of you. Want to go look for more after class?”

You, the dreaded Black Paladin, defeated not by a mighty hero, but by lattes, pollen, and a profound, unshakeable lack of game. You text back: “Sure. Sounds fun.” Maybe tomorrow you’ll try stealing her power with a poorly-made origami crane. That’ll show her.