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447 – A Moonless Night, When Dogs Don’t Bark and People Don’t Wake
🕑 Added 2025-08-13 15:00:17 +0000 UTCIn the courtyard, Kyousuke stood before a cherry blossom tree, holding a black handsaw, his expression blank as he mulled things over.
It was this very tree that had turned his last conversation with Sakura so heavy and awkward.
Damn it.
Then again, if he really wanted to trace the blame, the real culprit was the moon for shining light on it… or, if he dug deeper, the ultimate mastermind: the sun.
After all, the moon doesn’t produce its own light so that star was the true offender.
With Kyousuke’s intellect, it wouldn’t have been hard to figure out that the reason he even noticed the tree at all was because he’d been admiring a beauty under the moonlight.
But as the saying goes, anger is punishing yourself for someone else’s mistake—so if you get angry over your own mistake, wouldn’t that just kill you on the spot?
Better to pin it on someone else.
Kyousuke had never been the type to wallow in self-loathing.
The sky was cloudless, the moon motionless, watching the standoff between man and tree.
The stars twinkled as if curious how this would end—whether Kyousuke would actually cut down the cherry blossom tree he had painstakingly brought back from Kyoto.
“Hooo—"
After a long moment, Kyousuke sighed and let the saw drop to his side.
As I thought… I’m just not the heartless type.
Look at me—today I didn’t take out my frustration on someone else over my own mistake.
That’s huge progress.
He stepped forward, placing his hand on the rough bark.
In the entire courtyard, this tree held more significance than even the maple tree he’d planted as a training tool. It was the only tree with a name.
“Not Bad, That’s Me.”
Yes, that was its actual name—“Not Bad, That’s Me.” And anyone could guess who named it.
Not Kyousuke.
Sure, he was always aware of his own handsomeness, but normally he wouldn’t expose his narcissism so blatantly.
Not Eriri either—she was never shy about her dazzling self-confidence, but if she named a tree that, Kasumigaoka Utaha would mock her every single day.
Eriri wasn’t the type to hand over ammunition like that.
“Perfect score in math—Not Bad, That’s Me!”
“Even knew this kind of thing—Not Bad, That’s Me!”
“Ate three pancakes—Not Bad, That’s Me!”
“…And so on.”
“Hey, hey, Hojou, doesn’t ‘Not Bad, That’s Me’ sound kinda like the name of a flower?”
That was what Yamauchi Sakura had said before casually bestowing the name on this Edo Higan cherry blossom.
According to the dorm rules, something like naming a tree should be voted on, but Sakura wasn’t the kind of girl who needed anyone’s approval.
Just like how Yukinoshita had always resisted Sakura calling her “Yukino-chan,” but Sakura would simply cover her ears and keep doing it until Yukinoshita eventually gave in.
She called things the way she liked.
Whether anyone else liked it wasn’t her problem.
“‘Truly Not Bad, That’s Me,’ why can’t you bloom all year round? Don’t you feel ashamed for being so useless?”
Kyousuke shook his head with a sigh.
At his feet, a fluffy white creature that had been lying quietly suddenly stood up, trotted over to the base of the tree, and—lifting its hind leg—unleashed a steady stream.
“Woof~”
Exactly! Your name’s even longer than mine, yet you’re this useless!
Momotarou barked his complaint, as if venting the frustration of not being able to rush over to his “big bro” earlier.
Sure, the one he truly wanted to chew out was that good-for-nothing big sis, but being mad was one thing—having the guts to actually do it was another.
So he settled for bullying “Not Bad, That’s Me,” a stationary idiot of a tree, just to feel a bit better.
“Hahaha, you little rascal.”
Kyousuke chuckled.
Momotarou was a good dog—next time they went back to the countryside, he could bring it hunting.
It probably couldn’t catch a rabbit, but fetching one? That, it could do.
If their lives were ever on the line and they had to pick an opponent for rock-paper-scissors, both Kyousuke and Sakura would unhesitatingly choose Doraemon—or a Baltan alien.
That was their philosophy.
They say pets resemble their owners.
Kyousuke didn’t deny it—if a pet didn’t match its owner’s tastes, was it really worth keeping?
He stroked his chin in thought, then returned the saw to the tool shed.
Instead of heading to bed, he took out his phone and lowered all the metal blinds in the living room.
Unlike most Japanese who had faith in the country’s safety, Kyousuke wasn’t so careless—those “blinds” were actually reinforced shutters, sturdy enough to provide serious protection and even electrify when needed.
With the dorm’s excellent soundproofing, he wasn’t about to turn it into his own coffin.
Walking toward the gate, he noticed Momotarou trotting faithfully behind him.
Kyousuke stopped, and so did the fluffball.
Looking down into those shiny black-bean eyes, he hesitated for two seconds before scooping the dog up.
“This time, no leash. Don’t run off or bark, got it?”
“Ooof~”
Momotarou gave a soft reply, his fluffy triangular ears twitching.
The cuteness lifted Kyousuke’s mood considerably.
The gate closed automatically with a creak.
That wasn’t due to poor maintenance—someone had added the sound effect on purpose, insisting a gate should sound like a gate.
He glanced left and right.
Every house was deep in slumber; only the streetlight at the corner bathed the asphalt in a warm yellow glow.
Tonight felt exactly like night.
The asphalt shone a perfect dark blue-black under the moonlight, making it a pleasure to walk on.
Thin clouds only revealed themselves when drifting past the moon, promising good weather tomorrow.
The quiet was so deep that not even a dog barked—let alone a drunk stumbling home.
Naturally, any dog that barked at night wouldn’t last long in a place as high-class as this.
In that respect, Momotarou was exemplary.
All in all, it was the perfect night—the kind of night that made you wonder what fantastical event might happen next.
Maybe you’d spot a cat in a tuxedo walking upright, or a little girl in a red hood flying on a broomstick.
On a night infused with such strange magic, anything from a suicide to a secret ritual would surely succeed.
Even a confession of love might gain a supernatural boost—provided you didn’t get yelled at first for waking someone up at this hour.
But if the person didn’t get angry even after being woken at three in the morning, then the confession would almost certainly be accepted.
And if you actually dated someone like that, your relationship would be bliss—because any boyfriend who could tolerate you going crazy at night had to have a heart of gold.
And so, on this night, though just an ordinary man, Kyousuke, too, had a bit of magic he wanted to make real.
Kyousuke pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number.
It was picked up in less than two seconds.
“Kisaki? Get Hirata and come pick me up. Yeah—Ruyi Dorm.”
“It’s not urgent, but drive safe.”
With that short reminder, he hung up.
Judging by the time, Kisaki Tetta had probably just gone to bed not long ago.
After all, he’d been busy wrapping things up in Gunma and arranging for Rocket 33 to be sent back to Tokyo—that would take a while.
Even so, Kyousuke couldn’t hear a hint of sleepiness in his voice.
The moment the call connected, Kisaki sounded completely awake.
If you went by Kyousuke’s own theory, anyone who gets woken in the middle of the night, shows zero irritation, and promises to arrive within ten minutes… must be doing it out of love—pure, unconditional love.
Unfortunately, the person on the other end was a man.
Which meant this had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with something much more brutal: an unscrupulous boss squeezing his loyal underling 24/7.
It was enough to make anyone cry—sweatshops didn’t even go this far.
Leaning against the courtyard wall, Kyousuke felt a sudden urge for a cigarette.
Too bad he didn’t smoke.
All he found in his pocket was a mint candy Shouko had given him at lunch.
He peeled the thin wrapper, popped the forget-me-not blue candy into his mouth, and stared absently at the shiny paper.
Not long after, a warm yellow beam cut through the darkness—two black vehicles rolled up silently to a stop in front of him.
One was a sedan, the other a van.
The passenger door swung open, and Kisaki Tetta jumped out, scanning the surroundings warily before signaling to the van behind him.
His expression was grim.
Kyousuke hadn’t said much over the phone, but if he was calling this late, it had to be something big.
Kyousuke hated being woken from sleep, and by the same principle, he never woke others unless it was truly urgent.
At school, he’d even stopped a teacher from waking Sakura when she was napping in class.
But now—half past three in the morning—he had called. That meant the situation had to be dire.
What could it be? Maybe those Gunma losers had come to Tokyo for revenge?
No—that couldn’t be.
Kisaki had handled that cleanly, and reliable sources confirmed that none of them had the power to threaten the “Rampaging Angel.”
The strongest of that bunch had been the short-shorts “BMW girl” Kyousuke himself had taken away—her family was a police dynasty, with a relative holding the rank of Superintendent.
Honestly, when Kisaki had learned that, his admiration for Kyousuke had skyrocketed.
Not only had his boss charmed the girl, he’d quietly removed the biggest obstacle to the organization’s expansion.
No—given Kyousuke’s skill with women, “removed an obstacle” wasn’t even the right phrase.
He’d gained a powerful ally.
The perfect blend of strength and charisma.
With that possibility crossed off, Kisaki moved on to the next.
Mejirodai was still in Bunkyō ward, Kyousuke’s turf, but it was close to Ikebukuro.
According to intel from the Kaiju branch, things had been unstable in Ikebukuro lately—a gang called the “Colorless” had popped up.
Basically, a bunch of bored punks wearing yellow or blue accessories, running around in groups causing trouble.
Could they have been dumb enough to bother Kyousuke?
No—he’d already ruled that out on the way here.
Ikebukuro was partying tonight over Dullahan’s return, but they had no plans to mess with other districts.
By the time Kisaki finished running through possibilities in his head, he’d already called not just Hirata the driver, but also the logistics and operations teams.
Whatever was going down, best to gather the troops first.
Worst case, he’d claim Kyousuke was in a good mood and treating everyone to a midnight snack—call it company bonding.
None of these guys were the type to actually sleep peacefully at night anyway.
The black van was already packed with men, and more were on standby at home, ready to move.
Then, a sudden thought struck him.
The last time Kyousuke had called for people like this was when he’d taken them all to Itomori in Gifu.
They’d gone to see a meteor crater—and Kisaki had ended up with a new sister-in-law, a shrine maiden who’d led the townsfolk to safety during the meteor strike.
He still didn’t understand all the details, but his sharp mind and instincts told him that trip hadn’t just been about sightseeing.
Thinking further back, he remembered when he and Kyousuke had witnessed the arrival of the Tiamat Comet—the very day Kyousuke had single-handedly crushed the Toman gang at its peak.
The memory still made Kisaki’s blood boil with excitement… and his mouth ache a little.
He’d lost two teeth that day.
Sure, the replacements worked fine, but nothing beat the originals.
Which meant… mystery solved!
Tonight, Kyousuke must be planning to avenge him by taking out the bastard who’d knocked his teeth out—and then seizing Shibuya, marking the start of his campaign to dominate Tokyo.
Ah, what a beautiful night. No wonder the moon looked so good.
But… no. Kisaki knew better.
There was only one thing in the world that could get the smartest man alive to leave his bed in the middle of the night.
Women.
No, wait—Kyousuke had said before that if you wanted a proper romance, you shouldn’t be so crude.
Love. The only thing that could cloud the mind of someone as sharp as Kyousuke was love.
Which meant… case closed again—he was about to gain another sister-in-law.
Still, that was scary to think about.
Wasn’t Celty and those two girls from Gunma enough for tonight? And now a new one?
Could Kyousuke’s body even handle that? The efficiency was terrifying.
It really felt like ever since high school started, Kyousuke hadn’t just gotten stronger—his romantic prospects had gone into overdrive.
No—wait. If Miyamizu-san came to mind, the first person to think about should be her father, the one with a position in the Tokyo Fire Department.
Could it be that, after seeing Kyousuke’s flirtatious ways at dinner last time, the man had decided to break them up?
And so, Kyousuke had called him and the others to go kidnap Miyamizu-san’s father, to make him understand: any woman Kyousuke set his sights on… would never escape.
“Boss, your orders!”
Kisaki, immaculate in his suit, stood before Kyousuke and bowed.
Behind him, the black van was crammed with muscle.
Whatever Kyousuke commanded—rescue a girl kidnapped by a cat, abduct her father—they wouldn’t refuse.
