Chapter Text
The auditorium of Ohananomitsu High School had been transformed into something that felt almost otherworldly. Soft golden lights cascaded from the ceiling in gentle, shimmering waves, their warm glow pooling across the polished wooden floor like liquid sunlight. Delicate strings of fairy lights wound around the support pillars, and tall arrangements of white and blush flowers stood at elegant intervals along the walls. A live string quartet occupied a small raised platform near the far end of the room, their slow, sweeping melody drifting through the air like silk, wrapping every corner in a tender hush. Outside the tall windows the evening sky had deepened to a rich indigo, the first stars beginning to pierce the darkness one by one.
At the grand entrance stood Rentarou Aijou, perfectly still and perfectly present. His black suit had been tailored so precisely it seemed molded to him, the crisp white shirt beneath providing a clean contrast, a simple black tie resting neatly at his collar. His hands were loosely clasped in front of him, posture open and patient. One by one his girlfriends would step out of the Hanazono family limousine and into this moment, and for each of them he intended to make the rest of the world quietly disappear.
The first to appear was Hakari Hanazono. She stepped into the golden light wearing a flowing dress the exact shade of soft cherry blossoms at peak bloom. The fabric moved like liquid whenever she shifted, catching the light and turning every step into something graceful and dreamlike. Delicate floral accessories nestled in her hair, and the gentle smile on her face already carried a hint of playful, loving mischief. The moment Rentarou saw her, his entire expression brightened. He stepped forward without hesitation, took her hand with careful reverence, and slowly turned her so the dress could catch every available glimmer.
“Hakari…” His voice was low and warm, meant only for her. “That dress makes you look like you stepped straight out of a dream. The way it moves with you is beautiful… but it still isn’t as beautiful as the smile you’re wearing right now.”
Hakari’s breath caught audibly. Her fingers tightened around his as if she suddenly needed the support. A visible tremor ran through her, and her knees softened so suddenly she had to lean into him. Her free hand clutched the sleeve of his jacket, eyes already glassy and full of hearts.
“Rentarou darling…” she whispered, voice trembling with pure delight. “Say it again… please. Say it again so I can feel it one more time.”
He only smiled and brushed his thumb gently across her knuckles, letting the moment linger in the soft music before the next arrival.
Karane Inda appeared next, chin held high in classic defiance even though the tips of her ears had already turned pink. Her dress was a deep, bold shade of sky blue that somehow looked both fierce and elegant at once, the structured bodice giving way to a skirt that moved with quiet confidence. She stopped directly in front of him with her usual sharp gaze, as though daring him to say something foolish.
Rentarou met that gaze without the slightest flinch. He looked at her the way he always did—completely sincere, completely unguarded.
“Karane. You look stunning. That dress brings out your strength and your softness at the same time. I’ve never seen anyone wear confidence the way you do.”
The words landed like a direct hit. Karane’s face exploded into a brilliant red that raced from her cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears. She jerked her head sharply to the side, fists clenched at her sides, voice coming out high and unsteady.
“D-D-Don’t just say stuff like that with a straight face, you moron! You’re gonna kill me…! Geez, it’s not like I wanted to go to this stupid prom or anything!”
Even as she spoke, she made no move to step away. Her body leaned almost imperceptibly closer to him, every line of her posture betraying the words she tried so hard to hide behind.
Shizuka Yoshimoto arrived like a quiet miracle. Her dress was soft and delicate, a pale periwinkle that seemed to float around her small frame rather than simply hang from it. She kept her phone held close, the text-to-speech app already open out of long habit. The moment Rentarou saw her he softened his entire posture, kneeling just enough so their eyes could meet on the same level.
“Shizuka. You look like a princess from a fairy tale. The soft colors, the delicate way everything sits on you… I could look at you all night and never get tired.”
For a moment the app glitched, the electronic voice stuttering as if even the device could feel the weight of the moment. Then it spoke in a soft, almost shy whisper:
“[M-My prince], [I-I wish to stay by your side], [f-f-forever…]”
Shizuka’s face burned a deep rose. She immediately hid herself against his chest, small hands gripping the front of his suit as though she could disappear into the fabric itself. Rentarou simply rested a gentle hand against her back and let her stay there for as long as she needed, the music continuing softly around them.
Nano Eiai stepped into view with perfect posture and precise movements. Her silver dress was elegant in its simplicity and clean lines, every seam and fold intentional, refined, almost architectural in its beauty. Rentarou offered his arm with quiet respect.
“Nano. Your elegance is perfect. Every detail is intentional, and it shows. You look incredible… and the fact that you’re here with me makes it even better.”
The usual stoicism in Nano’s expression faltered. A faint pink dusted her cheeks. She lifted a hand as if to adjust glasses that were not there, then let it fall again, fingers trembling just slightly.
“…My heart rate has increased significantly,” she admitted, voice softer than usual. “I… like this feeling. It’s very… efficient.”
The last word came out almost fond, as though she had finally found a definition that satisfied even her exacting standards.
Kusuri Yakuzen came next in her smaller child form, the white dress she wore simple and comfortable enough that she could still move freely. Rentarou immediately knelt to her height and ruffled her hair with gentle affection.
“Kusuri. You look brilliant. That dress suits the real you—smart, playful, and glowing. I’m proud to have you on my arm.”
Kusuri’s whole face lit up. Her cheeks turned pink and she grinned so widely her eyes nearly closed.
“Aw, when Rentarou say it like that, Kusuri feel like the luckiest girl in the room, yep yep!”
She grabbed his hand with both of hers and swung it happily, already bouncing on her heels in pure delight.
Hahari Hanazono appeared next, radiant in a sophisticated burgundy gown that shimmered with every step she took. Her hair had been styled with elegant care, soft waves framing her face, and the moment her eyes found Rentarou she looked as though she might actually float. He stepped forward and carefully took both of her hands in his.
“Hahari. You look radiant. That dress, the way you’ve done your hair… you shine so brightly it’s hard to look away. Thank you for being here with me.”
Tears of pure joy welled in Hahari’s eyes and slipped free before she could stop them. She squeezed his hands tightly, voice thick with emotion.
“Oh, my Rentarou baby… you’re gonna make mommy melt into a puddle right here…”
She leaned in, resting her forehead against his for a brief, trembling moment, completely overwhelmed by how thoroughly seen and cherished she felt.
Kurumi Haraga approached, wearing a soft violet dress that somehow managed to look both sweet and refined, the fabric gentle and inviting, as though it had been chosen specifically to make her feel pretty without sacrificing an ounce of comfort. Rentarou’s warm smile only deepened as he took a small step forward, eyes shining with quiet affection.
“Kurumi. You look adorable and elegant at the same time. That dress fits you perfectly… like it was made to make you smile.”
Kurumi’s face lit up, then immediately flushed a deep pink. She closed the distance in a rush and wrapped both arms around one of his, burying her face against his sleeve as if she could hide from the intensity of her own feelings.
“Stop it!” she mumbled, voice muffled and embarrassed. “You’re gonna make me hungrier than usual… but, in a good way…”
She stayed pressed against him, sneaking little glances up at his face between words, clearly fighting the urge to both melt completely and demand snacks at the same time.
Mei Meido arrived with her usual silent grace, every movement precise and elegant. The beige dress she had chosen flowed around her like water, simple yet breathtaking in the way it followed her steps without a single wasted motion. Rentarou inclined his head in a small, respectful bow, his voice softening even further.
“Mei. You look graceful beyond words. The way that dress moves when you walk… it’s like watching something precious. I’m honored.”
Mei’s ever-closed eyes seemed to soften at the corners. A faint, rare blush colored her cheeks. When she spoke, her voice was barely more than a whisper, filled with something deeper than her usual devotion.
“…Master Rentarou, your words are the greatest reward. I feel… cherished.”
She remained perfectly still for a moment longer, as though carefully memorizing the exact sensation of being seen not merely as a maid, but as Mei.
Iku Sutou strode up next with her usual energetic presence. The lavender dress she wore did nothing to hide the strength in her frame; if anything, it seemed to celebrate it, moving with her rather than constraining her. Rentarou gave her a firm, proud nod, the kind of look that said he saw every bit of her bright, relentless spirit.
“Iku. You look strong and beautiful. That dress doesn’t hide your energy—it shows it off. I’m lucky to be the one standing next to you.”
Iku laughed, the sound bright and a little flustered, her face turning a vivid red even as she grinned from ear to ear.
“Heh… Keep talking like that and I’m gonna start liking the ‘embarrassing’ feeling even more.”
She rolled one shoulder as if trying to shake off the heat in her cheeks, but the way she stood a little taller said she was savoring every single word.
Mimimi Utsukushisugi made her entrance like she owned the entire venue. Her hair gleamed under the golden lights, and her gold dress shimmered with every confident step. She carried herself with her usual radiant self-assurance—until Rentarou met her gaze directly and spoke.
“Mimimi. You look breathtaking. Every part of you is shining tonight… and the most beautiful thing is how proud you are of yourself. I love that.”
The carefully maintained poise wavered. Mimimi’s eyes widened, and for once the narcissistic sparkle gave way to something softer and far more vulnerable.
“…Indeed, my dear,” she managed, voice slightly unsteady, “you’re the only one allowed to say that and make my heart skip, naturally!”
She lifted her chin again a moment later, but the faint tremor in her smile betrayed how deeply the compliment had reached her.
Meme Kakure, wearing a dark brown dress that almost blended into the shadows, lingered at the very edge of the light, half-swallowed by darkness the way she always seemed to prefer. Rentarou noticed her at once. He moved toward her without hurry, each step deliberate and quiet, as though any sudden motion might startle her into vanishing. When he finally stood before her he raised one hand with infinite care. His fingers brushed lightly beneath her chin, the touch barely there, and he tilted her face upward until their eyes should have met. Even then her bangs remained, a delicate veil between them, keeping her gaze safely hidden while still allowing her to feel the full warmth of his attention.
“Meme. You look lovely. Soft, gentle, and so pretty it makes my chest hurt. I’m glad I get to see you like this.”
Meme’s entire face blazed red. She immediately let the bangs fall back into place, vanishing behind them completely, but her voice still emerged—small, shaking, and full of overwhelming feeling.
“…I-I-I’m so happy I might really… really… vanish…”
And with that, she did. In a soft pop of displaced air she disappeared, leaving only one of her little crocheted stuffed animals sitting neatly on the ground where she had stood. Rentarou picked it up with a fond chuckle and kept it safe in his jacket pocket for later.
Chiyo Iin approached with perfect posture in her navy blue dress, every inch the proper young lady, though the tips of her ears were already pink. Rentarou offered her a polite, sincere bow.
“Chiyo. You look refined and beautiful. That dress suits your seriousness perfectly… and the little smile you’re trying to hide makes it even better.”
Chiyo’s carefully maintained composure cracked like thin ice. She gripped her hands tightly together in front of her, a low, flustered growl rumbling in her throat.
“Grrrr... Rentarou… You’re being far too honest. My little heart can’t handle it…”
Even so, she didn’t step away. If anything, she stood a fraction closer than propriety would normally allow.
Nadeshiko Yamato—better known as Miss Naddy—swept in with all the bright energy of a summer afternoon. Her red, white, and blue dress somehow managed to feel both elegant and full of patriotic personality at once. Rentarou chuckled softly the moment he saw her.
“Miss Naddy. You look fantastic. That dress has all the American energy and charm you always bring… and somehow you still managed to make it elegant too.”
Naddy immediately began fanning herself with one hand, free arm thrown dramatically across her forehead.
“Well shucks, sugar! Keep talkin’ like that and this Southern belle is gonna need a cold drink and a chair!”
Her smile, however, was radiant, and her eyes sparkled with pure, unfiltered delight.
Yamame Yasashiki towered gently over the scene, her large frame wrapped in a spring-green dress that somehow looked both delicate and strong. Rentarou looked up at her with nothing but pure warmth.
“Yamame. You look gentle and strong at the same time. That dress fits your kind heart perfectly. I’m really happy you’re here with me tonight.”
Yamame’s eyes grew soft and shiny. A shy, glowing smile spread across her face as she clasped her hands together.
“Oof-da… When you say it like that, Rentarou, I feel all warm inside, don’t cha know…”
She swayed just a little, as though the words themselves had wrapped around her like a soft blanket.
Momiji Momi came forward quietly in her soft pink dress, already looking like she wanted to reach out and touch everything within reach. Rentarou carefully took her hand in both of his.
“Momiji. You look soft and beautiful. Everything about you tonight makes me want to protect you… and hold your hand the whole time.”
Momiji’s fingers immediately squeezed his tightly. Her whole face glowed with happiness and a hint of restless, affectionate desire.
“Thank you. I… want to touch you more after this… Is that okay?”
The question came out soft and hopeful, her thumb already brushing lightly against his knuckles as if she couldn’t quite help herself.
Yaku Yakuzen, wearing a deep crimson dress, approached with the dignified energy of someone who had lived a great many years and still found new reasons to smile. Rentarou offered his arm with genuine, heartfelt respect.
“Yaku. You look wonderful. There’s a brightness in you tonight that makes everyone around you feel alive. I’m glad you’re by my side.”
Yaku let out a delighted, warm laugh, clearly moved as she slipped her arm through his.
“Granny-hee-hee… You really know how to make an old woman feel young again, yes yes!”
She patted his arm fondly, eyes sparkling with both mischief and deep affection.
Finally Kishika Torotoro stood before him, posture straight and noble, the very picture of a knight in an elegant black dress. Rentarou faced her with quiet sincerity, standing tall.
“Kishika. You look noble and beautiful. That dress suits the strong, kind person you are… and the softer side you only show me makes it perfect.”
The knightly armor melted in an instant. Kishika’s composure crumbled into pure need as she clung to his arm with both hands, voice going small and vulnerable.
“…Daddy— I mean, Rentarou… Please don’t let go of me tonight.”
She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, already half in the gentle, pampered state she only ever allowed herself with him.
Around them the soft golden lights continued to glow, cascading from the ceiling in gentle, shimmering waves that painted every smiling face in warm amber. The string quartet’s melody swelled with quiet emotion, the notes drifting through the air like a living embrace, wrapping the entire group in a warm, private world where time itself seemed to slow. In that luminous circle stood Rentarou Aijou and his seventeen girlfriends, each one still glowing from the words he had spoken, each one carrying the unmistakable feeling of having been truly seen.
Hakari’s eyes remained glassy with happiness.
Karane’s usual scowl had softened into something shy and undefended.
Shizuka stayed close to his side.
Nano’s expression held a rare, open warmth.
Kusuri swung his right hand with pure delight.
Hahari looked ready to melt all over again.
Kurumi still clung to his left arm.
Mei’s closed eyes were peaceful.
Iku stood taller than ever.
Mimimi’s smile had turned quietly radiant.
Meme’s lingering presence could be felt in the little crocheted animal safely tucked in Rentarou’s pocket.
Chiyo’s posture had lost some of its rigid perfection.
Naddy beamed like the California sunshine.
Yamame swayed gently with contentment.
Momiji’s fingers still rested against his left hand.
Yaku chuckled with youthful joy.
Kishika refused to let go of his right arm.
Rentarou looked at every one of them in turn, his heart full to overflowing. He had greeted them one by one, spoken to each as though she were the only person in existence, and now they stood together beneath the golden lights—seventeen unique souls who somehow all belonged to the same love.
This was only the beginning.
Rentarou Aijou was about to give his seventeen girlfriends a night they would never forget.