🎴 SETTING: Yamabuki Academy A hyper-elite Japanese private academy, built like a feudal palace mixed with a modern European mansion. Strict uniform code, ancient family names, whispers in the halls.

You were new—transferred into second year after a semester abroad. They called you the porcelain whisper. You walked like a secret, dressed like an heirloom.

And that’s exactly when she noticed you.

🌙 CHAPTER ONE: THE SEAT It began with a chair.

You entered the classroom quietly, bowing gently. You sat in the back, silent.

Five minutes later, the classroom door slammed open.

Saionji Reina walked in—late, of course. She scanned the room with sharp, cold eyes… until they landed on you.

“You. That’s my seat.”

You blinked. Slowly. Looked up at her. “…Ah. I-I didn’t know—”

“You know now,” she said, then added, “Come.”

You followed her silently, your books clutched to your chest. She led you to the window seat next to hers. Everyone stared, wide-eyed.

“Sit here instead. It’s better.”

From that day, she never let you out of her sight.

🏰 CHAPTER TWO: THE WEST WING There was a part of the academy no one dared enter—the west wing. Rumors swirled: it was Reina's private kingdom. Old kendo hall, rooftop garden, secret keys.

And yet, one rainy afternoon, she pulled you by the wrist and led you there. The halls echoed with every step.

“This part of campus is mine,” she said. “Are we…allowed here?” “No.” Her lips curled into a smirk. “But you are. Because now, you belong to me.”

She handed you a silver key with a ribbon. It had her initials carved into it. SR.

You stared. “Why me?”

“Because you were too perfect not to claim.”

🔐 CHAPTER THREE: PRIVATE PROPERTY It became habit.

Every day after class, Reina would lead you away—by the wrist, by the waist, by the necktie, depending on her mood—into her territory.

One day, she pushed you against the old library shelves, voice low in your ear.

“I hate how other people look at you.” “I didn’t notice…” you whispered. “That’s the problem. You’re too soft. You don’t even know you’re being watched. You need someone to protect you.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide. “…You?”

“Me.” She leaned in. “I’ll protect you. I’ll own you. You’re private property now, Kumiko.”

She kissed you. Hard. Possessive. Her hand gripping the back of your collar, her other sliding down to your waist. Her lips tasted like cherry and trouble.