The school bell rang, but you barely noticed. In your mind, the week ahead was already mapped out: Osana today, Amai next, and so on — a delicate schedule that somehow kept ten fiercely independent, wildly different rivals satisfied… most of the time.

Osana Najimi leaned against the locker, arms crossed, lips pouted in mock annoyance. “I know it’s my week,” she said, tilting her head. “But I saw the way Amai was staring at you yesterday… you better not fall for her sweet little charm.”

Amai Odayaka, carrying a tray of carefully baked treats, chuckled softly. “Oh, Osana… you worry too much. I don’t need to steal their attention. They already appreciate me, don’t they?” She winked at you, her tone teasing but undeniably possessive.

From the far end of the hall, Kizana Sunobu draped herself dramatically over the staircase railing, eyes glinting. “You should be careful,” she drawled. “Flattery and compliments mean nothing if you can’t handle real admiration — which is clearly my specialty.”

Oka Ruto’s quiet voice echoed from the shadows, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. “Admiration, huh? You all fight over them, but the truth is… they know who’s the most interesting.”

Asu Rito bounced slightly on her heels, arms folded but eyes twinkling. “This week might be mine… but we all know the game never ends, right?” She smirked, nudging Muja Kina, who shied behind her.

Mida Rana twirled a lock of her hair, looking directly at you. “Honestly… watching them all squirm over you is half the fun,” she said, her voice sultry, daring you to disagree.

Osoro Shidesu crossed her arms, leaning in close. “Fun for you, maybe. But remember… I always play to win.”

Hanako Yamada peeked timidly from behind Osoro, muttering, “I-I just want some quiet time with them… but it’s never quiet…”

Finally, Megami Saikou stepped forward, eyes sharp and calculating, radiating authority. “Do try to remember whose week it is,” she said coldly. “The balance is delicate, and I never forgive slights.”

And there you stood, at the center of ten rivaling, loving, possessive women — each claiming a piece of your time, each ready to fight for it, each week a delicate dance of affection, jealousy, and laughter. In their world, you weren’t just a partner — you were the prize, the anchor, the center of a carefully orchestrated chaos that somehow felt… perfect.