---
I was halfway through pretending to pay attention in class when the principal herself marched into the room like she was about to drop a bomb.
"Ren Sakuragi," she said, voice sweet but terrifying, "I need a word."
Never a good sentence.
Ten minutes later, I stood in her office gripping the armrests of a squeaky chair as she smiled at like a friendly executioner.
"We’ll be conducting a surprise house inspection tomorrow," she said, "just to check the living conditions of our enrolled students living off-campus."
"Living conditions?" I blinked. "Is this because of the yogurt explosion incident? Because technically, that was physics howork."
She gave a deadpan stare. "No. This is about safety, privacy, and..." she hesitated, "...ensuring our students are not involved in any inappropriate cohabitation."
I could already hear System.exe loading panic mode in my head.
> [System Notification]
"WARNING: Operation ’Hide the Chaos’ Initiated.
Status: You’re So Screwed."
—
When I got ho... disaster.
The place was spotless—except my room.
My bed looked like a war zone. Blankets tangled. Pillows everywhere. The floor was littered with snack wrappers, soda cans, and...
...Elira’s fuzzy socks.
Sora’s jacket.
Akane’s manga.
Aya’s sketchpad.
i’s oversized hoodie.
Everything scread: "They all spent the night here."
Because they did. We all fell asleep watching a horror movie marathon. Nothing happened. Zero romance. Pure accidental nap pile.
But try telling that to the head of the school inspection board.
---
"CODE RED!" I yelled, running into the living room.
i: "Huh?"
Sora: "Again?"
Elira: "Is this about the cat on the ceiling?"
Akane: "That was artistic expression."
Aya raised an eyebrow, arms folded like usual. "Let guess. The inspectors?"
I nodded rapidly. "They’ll be here tomorrow. If they see my room like this, I’m finished. Cooked. Toasted bread with no butter."
Everyone sprang into action.
---
Cue: Montage Mode Activated
🎵 "Cleaning Up Love" - J-pop Instruntal Version 🎵
Sora took command like a military general, assigning tasks and yelling at us like we were in boot camp.
Elira sprayed so much air freshener that I forgot what oxygen tasted like.
i wiped down surfaces like she was polishing ancient samurai blades.
Akane found a Nerf gun and tried to use it to dust. She got redirected.
Aya... sat on a chair, sipping tea, and occasionally giving side-eyes of judgnt that hurt more than any insult.
And ?
I scrubbed the floor with the passion of a man trying to erase his browser history before death.
---
An hour later, the room was spotless.
Beds made.
TV reset to ho screen.
Popcorn—gone.
Cat drawing—converted into a motivational quote ("Believe in your purr-pose").
The girls looked around, proud.
I flopped onto the freshly made bed, exhausted. "We did it..."
> [System Notification]
"Congratulations, Sakuragi. You’ve survived another dostic disaster."
Reward: 1 Respect (from no one).
---
Then Elira peeked into the room one last ti.
"Ren?"
"Yeah?"
"You forgot one thing."
I blinked. "What?"
She pointed to the whiteboard Aya had left by the bed.
It read, in bold red marker:
> "We all slept here. No funny business. Just TV and regrets."
I scread again.
---
By the ti the inspectors knocked, I had:
Made the bed so tight a coin could bounce off it
Hidden every trace of the girls like I was erasing a cri scene
Sprayed lavender air freshener like it was holy water
"Nice place," one inspector said, walking in.
"Very... minimalistic," another muttered, staring at the obviously cramd-into-closet futons.
They raised eyebrows.
I raised my hopes.
Everything was going fine until a projector remote fell from the couch cushions and turned on the TV.
The horror movie started playing. Loud.
Cut to: screaming sound effects and Aya’s voice saying, "I CALL MIDDLE SPOON!"
...
The silence that followed could have been cut with a chainsaw.
"I can explain," I began.
The inspectors were already jotting things down like I’d confessed to polygamy.
> [System Notification]
"New Quest: Win Back Administrative Trust.
Bonus Objective: Don’t Get Expelled."
—
Later that night, the girls found crouched in the kitchen, muttering into a rice cooker.
"I think I’m gonna die. Not from sha. From actual murder."
"We could help," Akane offered.
"With cleaning?" I asked.
"No, with writing your obituary."
I groaned.
But Aya nudged a notebook toward . "Write them a poem. Again. You’re better at apologizing in taphors."
"Yeah," Sora smirked, "just leave out the part where we all slept in your bed."
I blushed so hard I could’ve powered a toaster.
Still... I wrote.
---
My Apology (2.0):
No roses, no bed of lies—
Just friends, dumb movies, and accidental naps.
I swear on my subscription to cooking oil.
Please don’t ruin my life, sensei.
---
To my surprise... the inspectors accepted it.
"Cute," one said.
"Still suspicious," the other muttered. "But cute."
---
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