The Underworld, Starting with Debt

After walking through the bustling streets, they arrived at a secluded and quiet little park. Suddenly, Shinomiya Natsume stopped, looked at the darkening sky, and looked at Yamano Yuta.

"Yuta...wait a minute, I have something to tell you."

Yuta Yamano stopped and looked at Natsumi Murasaki, who seemed hesitant to speak, before interrupting her.

"Sister Xia Ye, come with me somewhere else!"

"Ah? Okay!" Natsumi Murasaki thought for a moment and nodded in agreement. It wouldn't be too late to talk about it later.

Pushing open the heavy doors of the screening room, a thick darkness rushed in. The surrounding lights were dimmed to a soft level, and groups of three or five people sat in rows of seats.

"Natsuha-nee, our seats are over there." Yamano Yuta led Shinomiya Natsuha to the seats at the back. There, a green-haired delinquent was already sitting. She was wearing a crop top, a leather jacket over it, and shorts that reached her hips, revealing her fair thighs.

After Yuta Yamano led Natsuha Murasomiya to sit next to the green-haired delinquent, they quietly waited for the movie to begin.

The surrounding lights suddenly dimmed, and darkness descended, temporarily blinding everyone in the screening room until they could not see their own hands in front of their faces.

As the music begins, only the beam of the projector pierces the darkness, and the image leaps onto the screen.

In the dimly lit screening room, reality and illusion intertwine, providing a space for bold revelry for men and women with passion, as well as a tranquil place for viewers to immerse themselves in the stories on the screen.

"Shh-shh-shh-shh-" Not long after the movie started, Natsumi Murasaki, who was captivated by the story, suddenly noticed a series of faint sounds coming from Yuta Yamano next to her.

"What's wrong, Yuta?" Natsumi Murasaki looked at Yuta Yamano with a puzzled expression. In the darkness, Natsumi Murasaki couldn't clearly see what Yuta Yamano was doing.

"No, it's nothing!" Yamano Yuta's muscles were tense, his hands were firmly supporting his legs, and his head was lowered.

As Natsumi Murasaki returned to the movie, Yuta Yamano cautiously leaned close to Kyoko Fujiwara's ear.

"Master, will this really work? I don't feel any sense of satisfaction from the revenge."

"So easily fooled. That woman doesn't even like you anymore, and you still expect to get revenge on her like this? Heh." Fujiwara Kyoko said with a wicked smile, suppressing her inner pleasure.

"Think about it, you're the one who betrayed her, and she's still innocently watching the movie..."

As Yamano Yuta immersed himself in his own imagination, a slight tremor ran through his body, a tingling, numb sensation. But Yamano Yuta didn't consider that he didn't actually have any special intimate relationship with Murasaki Natsume; it was all just a clown's self-comfort.

"Then let's continue, Master!"

Kyoko Fujiwara smiled, put her hands back on her lap, and glanced at Yuta Yamano with disdain.

"Are you asking me to do something?" Suddenly, Fujiwara Kyoko slapped Yamano Yuta, the crisp sound once again attracting the attention of Murasaki no Natsume.

"Yuta, are you really alright?"

Faced with Natsume Murasaki's worried gaze, Yuta Yamano felt as if a magical force was surging within him. The burning pain on his cheeks, like a bundle of dry firewood, transformed into a tingling, hot sensation that spread throughout his body.

He bit his lip, suppressing any strange sounds. 'This feeling… is it the pleasure of revenge? Yes! This is it!'

"It's really nothing, I just feel an itch on my back!"

"Remember to tell me if you feel unwell."

"I can take care of myself!"

“Yuta has grown up. He’s no longer the little brother who used to follow me around and need to be taken care of.”

"Hmm!" Yamano Yuta groaned, but Shinomiya Natsume, who had asked him twice, assumed he was just scratching an itch and didn't pay much attention.

The narrow aisle was filled with a damp smell. The slight coolness of the air conditioning could not dispel the strong smell of the sea; on the contrary, it gave the initiator an even stronger sensory stimulation.

Fujiwara Kyoko gently stroked the head of the person who had somehow knelt down on the ground, satisfied. Suddenly, the person jerked their head back, their slightly parted red lips forced back the last half-word they uttered. They grabbed Yamano Yuta's hair with both hands, only to find themselves pulling even harder.

"Hoo—" Fujiwara Kyoko wiped the sweat from her forehead, leaned down and whispered in Yamano Yuta's ear, "I'll wait for you in the bathroom!"

As Fujiwara Kyoko got up and stepped over Yamano Yuta, her departure once again caught the attention of Murasaki Natsuha.

"Huh? Yuta, why are you sitting on the ground?"

"My phone fell on the ground, I'm looking for it." He took a light breath, the cool, damp air unable to cool down the heat on Yamano Yuta's face.

"Sister Xia Ye, I found it. I need to go to the restroom first."

"okay."

After Yuta Yamano left, Natsumi Murasaki tilted her head in confusion, "Yuta, you're acting really strange today!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Not long after Yuta Yamano left, Natsume Murasaki felt a surge of energy, like water gathering into a vast ocean, ready to surge forth. She went to the restroom, only to find a long queue already formed.

Unwilling to wait, Natsume Murasaki went down several floors and came to a less crowded restroom.

Sitting on the toilet, Natsumi Murasaki recalled the commotion caused by Yuuta Yamano earlier, and the more she thought about it, the stranger it seemed. 'And that green-haired delinquent girl, where have I seen her before? She looks so familiar…'

"Gurgle gurgle—" A strange watery sound came from the next stall. At first, Shinomiya Natsume didn't pay attention. Everyone who comes to the toilet is there to relieve their physiological needs, but this physiological need is not that physiological need.

Accompanied by a series of rustling and tangling sounds, the noise from next door grew louder and louder.

Fujiwara Kyoko was like an ancient queen traveling, sitting down and getting into her carriage, while Yamano Yuta, the servant, was bowing and scraping, serving the queen as she rode.

"Master, this is too intense... We'll be discovered if we do this!" Yamano Yuta managed to say with difficulty.

"What's there to be afraid of? You'll get used to it." Fujiwara Kyoko smiled dismissively; she'd done even more extravagant things before.

'How dare you, in a public place...' Natsume Murasaki's face turned red, and she remained quiet, not daring to make the slightest sound.

As the male and female symphony sang in response to each other, Murasaki no Miyako's breathing gradually quickened, her eyes became somewhat glazed, and she unconsciously thought of Ito Koshitomo.

'Stop...' Feelings welled up in her heart, gradually clouding Natsumi Murasaki's reason. It was as if she and Ito Kozue had become the protagonists next door, and her tall figure could only be helplessly suppressed in front of the burly Ito Kozue.

As everyone knows, girls have an extra step when using the toilet compared to boys: they have to wipe with sanitary napkins. However, Natsume Murasaki forgot to bring any, so she had to use her hands...

Startled, Natsumi Murasaki snapped back to reality, her fair face flushed a delicate blush. 'Oh dear, why did I think of Tomo-kun… I'm so embarrassed!'

The woman in the next restroom seemed to think they were the only two people in the bathroom, and, oblivious to everyone else, started shouting and yelling. Until…

"Phew—that feels so good!" Fujiwara Kyoko wiped the sweat from her forehead, looking at the disheveled Yamano Yuta, who was covered in red marks.

"Let's go see your childhood sweetheart. She's bound to be suspicious after being away for so long."

"Sister Xia Ye? It doesn't matter anymore!"

"Hehe~ Did you experience the thrill of revenge?" Fujiwara Kyoko chuckled wickedly.

"I don't know, it's just..." Yamano Yuta paused, panting, "It seems like I don't feel any emotion when I mention Natsume-nee anymore..."

Natsumi Murasaki was taken aback by the conversation. "Yuta?"

Then, as if remembering something, she picked up her phone, scrolled through her chat history with Ito Koshino, found the photo, and examined it carefully.

"It really is Yuuta!"

Natsumi Murasaki felt a mix of emotions, both complex and relieved. Complex because the once well-behaved Yuta Yamano had gone astray, dating a delinquent and engaging in such promiscuous behavior. Relieved because she could finally confess to Yuta Yamano without guilt that she loved Koshito Ito!

"Yuta," Natsumi Murasaki suddenly called out, startling Yuta Yamano, who was resting next door. But his only thought at that moment was, 'I've been discovered! How exciting!'

"Yuta, you did it willingly, didn't you? She didn't force you, did she..."

"..."

“Yes,” Yuta Yamano was silent for a moment, then looked at Kyoko Fujiwara and smiled blankly, “It was all my own choice…”

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The night was still. Natsume Murasaki walked out of the movie theater, but Yuta Yamano was nowhere to be seen. The evening breeze, like a cold blade, severed their connection…

Interlude: Yuta Yamano's Final Act

In the height of summer in July, the sky was a clear blue, and the sun, like a roaring fireball, hung in the boundless firmament, mercilessly showering its scorching rays upon every corner of the world.

The air was thick with heat, and you could almost see the distorted heat rising from the ground, forming faint phantoms.

At this time, the summer vacation has arrived, a time for students to have fun.

"A-Zhi, over here!" Under the dense trees, a figure was waving vigorously at Ito Kozue, who had just gotten off the bus.

Pulling his suitcase, Ito Koshitoshi arrived under the tree and reached out to catch the green-eyed Natsumi who was lunging at him.

"Xia Ye, are you hot?"

Murasaki Natsumi gave Ito Kozue a light hug and left, as the July heat was simply too unbearable.

"Hmph," Natsumi Shinomiya snorted, crossed her arms and turned her head away, feigning ignorance.

Her long, flowing purple hair was tied up high, with only a long ponytail hanging down her back and swaying. Her delicate face was flushed red from the blazing sun, and a purple hair clip gently moved her sideburns aside, revealing her slender eyebrows and slightly trembling, alluring wine-red eyes.

Murasaki Natsume stood with her arms crossed, her fair and smooth body clad in a tank top, the two slender straps stretched to their limit by her full breasts.

Beneath her JK skirt were full, rounded thighs, straight as pillars carved from white jade, or like freshly peeled bamboo shoots, fair and translucent, brimming with youthful vitality. Sunlight shone on her skin, revealing a thin sheen, as clear and lustrous as pearls.

"Hehe," Ito Koshito kissed Murasaki Natsume's cheek and said with a flattering smile, "Don't be angry, Natsume, let's go, it's too hot here!"

Walking along the narrow cement road in the countryside, the rice paddies on both sides seemed unable to withstand the intense sun; the golden grains drooped low on the green leaves, swaying weakly in the hot wind, rustling softly…

"A-Zhi, do you have a place to stay? Do you want to come to my house?" Shinomiya Natsume held an umbrella in one hand and held Ito Kozue's large hand in the other. She really wanted to be intimate with her boyfriend right now, but the sweltering heat wave forced her to give up the idea.

To suppress her burgeoning inner turmoil, Natsumi Murasaki had to divert her attention to chatting with Ito Koshitomo. 'If you came to my house, hmph… I'd definitely drain you dry, humiliate you, devour you, and see how much energy you'd have left for your womanizing!'

"Yes!" Seeing the way Natsumi Murasaki looked on with longing, Ito Kozue knew exactly what she was thinking and said with a smile.

"Huh?" Natsume Murasaki's lips twitched. "You're not lying to me, are you?!"

"No, an older sister who took good care of me married into this family. Her name is Natsuki Kaishiri. Do you know Natsuyo?"

"It's Natsuki-neechan! She happens to live near my house!"

(I'll leave this as a foreshadowing; I don't know if I'll write about the ocean tide later.)

"Then you can come visit my house anytime you want!" Natsume Murasaki's eyes lit up; the exploitation plan could continue.

"Yes, yes, just don't beg for mercy later!"

"..."

The chirping of cicadas in the treetops gradually rose along with the two people's laughter.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

That night, right after Ito Koshichi had dinner, Murasaki Natsuha couldn't wait to come find Ito Koshichi.

"Ah Zhi, come for a walk with me. It's been so long since I've been to the countryside. I wonder what changes have occurred."

Walking under the dense shade of the trees, Murasaki Natsumi intimately linked arms with Ito Kozue. The cool night breeze, carrying a trace of water vapor from the river, brushed against Murasaki Natsumi, refreshing and cool, but it could not dispel the growing heat in her body.

"Zhi-kun, come with me to the shrine, it's quieter there." His wine-red eyes were like a glass of intoxicating wine, moist with a moist, nectar-like liquid.