Chapter Six: A Gentle Trap

The sunsets in Kivotos always possess a melancholic beauty. The last rays of the setting sun stream through the office windows, casting long, orange streaks of light onto the wooden floor. Fine dust motes float in the air, swirling slowly in the beams of light, as if time itself has slowed its pace here.

The teacher sat behind his desk, the last document of the day spread out before him—a revised plan for security patrols in the area surrounding Trinity College. His fingers swiped across the tablet screen, but his gaze was somewhat unfocused. Three days had passed.

Three days ago, there was that conflict in the dormitory. The man in black, wearing Nagisa's human skin, was brutally assaulted by him, and then he left. Since then, everything seemed to have returned to calm. There were no new reports of attacks, no eyewitness accounts of suspicious persons, and even Seiya didn't come to him again to talk about those "unusual auras."

But the teacher knew this calm was merely a facade. The man in black wouldn't give up so easily. That man—if he could still be called a man—had a clear purpose and plan. He was waiting, observing, preparing for his next move.

And the teacher is also waiting.

He needed more information, to understand the limits of Black Suit's abilities, and to find the whereabouts of the girls who had been turned into human skin. Nagisa, Mika…where are they now? In what state are they existing? Is there any hope for them?

These questions entwined his mind like vines, leaving him feeling more exhausted than ever before. It wasn't just physical exhaustion, but also a heavy burden on his soul. As a teacher, as the head of SCHALE, and as the students' support, he was supposed to protect them. But now, he didn't even know where they were.

A knock sounded on the door, soft and rhythmic.

The teacher looked up and said, "Please come in."

The door opened.

Long, grey-gold hair first caught the eye, followed by her familiar tea party attire—a cream-colored midi skirt with gold buttons shimmering warmly in the setting sun, long, slender legs encased in dark grey pantyhose, and white high heels clicking crisply on the floor. Angel wings were slightly folded behind her, and a red halo hovered above her head, radiating a soft red glow.

Nagisa Kirifuji.

Or rather, wearing black clothes made of Zhuren skin.

But he looks completely different today.

His expression was calm and gentle; his blue eyes held no malice or mockery, only a deep, understanding light. He walked lightly and gracefully to the desk, clasped his hands in front of him, and bowed slightly.

"Good evening, teacher," he said, his voice gentle and elegant, without any distortion or deliberate effort. "Have I disturbed your work?"

The teacher looked at him without saying a word. His hand had already quietly moved to the drawer under the desk—where his service pistol lay. Although he knew the gun might be useless against someone in black, it at least gave him some sense of security.

“Teacher, don’t be nervous.” Nagisa—in black—said softly, a gentle smile playing on her lips. “I’m not here to threaten you, nor to tempt you. I just…wanted to see you.”

He sat down in the chair opposite the teacher, his legs together and slightly crossed, a posture Nagisa was used to. His dark gray pantyhose shimmered subtly in the setting sun, the fabric at the thighs slightly taut from his posture, outlining smooth curves.

“I heard that you’ve been working very hard these past few days, teacher,” he continued, his voice soft and gentle. “Saintya told me that you’ve been in the office until very late almost every day. And… you look very tired.”

The teacher remained silent, simply watching him, trying to find a clue in his expression. But she found nothing. Today, his black attire perfectly embodied Nagisa—the gentle, considerate, and always thoughtful tea party chairperson.

“Teacher,” Nagisa leaned forward, placing her hands on the table with her fingers gently interlaced, “I know what you’re thinking. You’re worried about Nagisa, worried about Mika, worried about all the students who might be harmed. You’re blaming yourself, feeling like you haven’t protected them well enough.”

His eyes were sincere and gentle, as if he could truly see into the teacher's heart.

“But teacher, you don’t need to blame yourself like this,” he said softly. “Some things are beyond your control. Some forces are beyond our comprehension. You have done everything you could.”

The teacher finally spoke, her voice a little hoarse: "Do you know where they are?"

Nagisa—in black—was silent for a few seconds, then slowly shook her head: “I don’t know. That person…in black, he didn’t tell me. He just…dressed like me, and moved around in Kivotos. And I…I could only watch, and couldn’t do anything.”

His voice trembled slightly; it was Nagisa's voice, Nagisa's tone, Nagisa's way of expressing emotions. It was heartbreakingly perfect.

“Sometimes I think,” he continued, his fingers unconsciously tracing the hem of his skirt, “that if I had been stronger, if I had been more vigilant, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe I could have protected Weihua, and the other students.”

The setting sun cast its golden rays upon his face, giving his profile a golden glow. In that moment, he looked so real, so ****, so…like Nagisa.

The teacher removed his hand from the drawer. He didn't know whether he should believe it or not, but deep down, he longed to believe. He longed to believe that Nagisa was still alive, he longed to believe that there was still a chance to salvage the situation.

“Teacher,” Nagisa stood up and walked to her teacher’s side, her movements gentle and natural, “You are too tired. You need to rest.”

His hand rested gently on the teacher's shoulder, not as a seductive touch, but as a caring reassurance. Through the fabric of his shirt, one could feel the tension in the muscles beneath his fingers.

“Let me help you relax,” he said softly, his voice as gentle as a feather. “Just like before. Do you remember? Whenever you worked late, I would make you tea and chat with you until you relaxed.”

The teacher remembered. Those nights, Nagisa would indeed come to his office. She'd bring freshly brewed black tea and homemade snacks. They'd sit on the sofa, talking about work, students, and the future of Kivotos. Sometimes they wouldn't talk about anything, just sit quietly, enjoying the tranquility.

That was one of the warmest moments in the teacher's memory.

“I brought tea today too,” Nagisa—in black—said, taking out a thermos and two delicate porcelain cups from his small bag. He poured two cups of tea, and the aroma of black tea immediately filled the office.

He placed a cup of tea in front of the teacher, then took another cup for himself and sat down in the chair next to the teacher.

“It’s your favorite Earl Grey tea,” he said with a slight smile. “With half a spoonful of honey, just like you like.”

The teacher looked at the cup of tea, its steam rising gently, forming wisps of vapor in the beams of the setting sun. He picked up the cup and took a sip. The temperature was perfect, the sweetness just right—everything was exactly as he remembered.

"Thank you," the teacher said, her voice softer than before.

"You're welcome," Nagisa said softly, picking up his own teacup and taking a small sip. His movements were elegant and composed, perfectly replicating Nagisa's habits in every detail.

The two sat quietly, sipping tea and watching the sunset slowly sink below the horizon. The office was quiet, save for the occasional soft clinking of teacups against saucers.

“Teacher,” Nagisa finally spoke after a long silence, her voice very soft, “Do you know? Actually, I’ve always… admired you a lot.”

The teacher turned her head and looked at him.

"What do you envy about me?"

“I envy your freedom,” Nagisa said, her eyes somewhat unfocused. “You come from outside Kivotos, unbound by the rules here. You can do what you want, love whoever you want. Unlike me… as the president of the tea party, as the leader of Holy Trinity, I have to abide by so many rules, I have to maintain so many pretenses.”

His fingers gently caressed the rim of the teacup.

"Sometimes, I think... what if I weren't Kirito Nagisa, what if I were just an ordinary student? What if I could... freely express my feelings, freely pursue what I want?"

The last rays of the setting sun shone on his face, making his expression look exceptionally gentle, exceptionally...real.

“Teacher,” he turned to look at her, a complex light flickering in his blue eyes, “Do you know? Actually, I… have always liked you. Not the respect a student has for a teacher, not the affection between friends. It’s… a deeper feeling.”

His voice was soft but clear, each word like a pebble thrown into the teacher's heart, creating ripples.

“But I know this is not allowed,” he continued, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “A teacher is a teacher, and a student is a student. In Kivotos, such a relationship… is considered taboo. Even if Trinity is relatively open, even if the members of the tea party won’t say anything, I know it will affect your reputation and SCHALE’s position.”

He put down his teacup, placed his hands folded on his knees, and his fingers trembled slightly.

"So I kept suppressing it. I kept telling myself that this is fine. As long as I can stay by your side, as long as I can see you occasionally, as long as I can make tea for you and chat with you... this is fine."

His voice was choked with emotion; it was Nagisa's voice, Nagisa's emotions, Nagisa's repression and pain. It was so perfect it was heartbreaking.

The teacher looked at him, at this man who perfectly portrayed Nagisa, his heart filled with conflict. He knew this might be a trap, another plan by the Black Organization. But the words, the emotions, the details… they all felt too real.

“Nagisa…” the teacher began, but didn’t know what to say next.

“Teacher, you don’t need to say anything.” Nagisa—in black—said softly, stood up, walked to the teacher, and then…knelt down.

It wasn't a seductive kneeling posture, but a gentle, submissive one. He knelt at his teacher's feet, raised his head, and his blue eyes were filled with understanding and acceptance.

“Teacher, you’re so tired,” he said softly. “Let me… do something for you.”

He gently pushed the teacher's chair back so the teacher could sit more comfortably. Then, he patted his thigh.

“Lie down, teacher,” he said, his voice as gentle as a lullaby. “Just like before. Let me give you… a lap pillow.”

The teacher remembered. There was indeed such a time when he worked so late that he fell asleep on the sofa in his office. When he woke up, he found Nagisa sitting next to him, his head resting on her lap, and she remained in that position until he woke up.

That was one of the most reassuring moments in the teacher's memory.

After hesitating for a few seconds, the teacher finally lay down slowly, resting her head on Nagisa's lap.

The dark gray pantyhose felt soft and warm to the touch. She could feel the softness and elasticity of the skin on her thighs beneath, and sense her body heat seeping through the stockings. Nagisa gently placed her hand on her teacher's forehead, her fingers softly massaging his temples.

“Close your eyes, teacher,” he said softly. “Relax. Don’t think about anything.”

The teacher closed his eyes. Nagisa's fingers gently massaged his temples with just the right amount of pressure. Her other hand gently combed his hair, her movements tender and rhythmic.

The office was quiet, with only the soft breathing of the two people. The sun had completely set, and night was beginning to fall. The lights were off, only the moonlight streaming in from the window cast blurry patches of light on the floor.

Nagisa—in black—continued her massage, moving from her temples to her forehead, and then to her scalp. Every movement was gentle and professional, as if she were genuinely trying to help her teacher relax.

"Does the teacher know?" he said softly, his voice sounding particularly gentle in the darkness, "Actually, being able to do something for you like this... is a kind of happiness for me."

His fingers slid down to the teacher's neck, gently massaging the muscles there.

"Even if I can't express it, even if I have to suppress it, as long as I can be by your side, as long as I can see you relaxed... I'm satisfied."

His voice was soft and gentle, like a night breeze brushing past the teacher's ear.

The teacher didn't speak, just lay quietly, feeling the gentleness and care. Exhaustion washed over her like a tide, and the tension, anxiety, anger, and helplessness of the past three days... all these emotions slowly dissipated in that gentle massage.

His breathing gradually became steady and deep.

Nagisa—in black—continued her massage, moving from her neck to her shoulders and then to her arms. Every movement was gentle and attentive.

"Sleep well, teacher," he whispered, his voice like a lullaby. "Get some rest. Tomorrow... everything will be alright."

The teacher's consciousness began to blur. He was so tired, so incredibly tired. Three days of mental tension, three days of waiting and anxiety, all found release in that gentle lap pillow and massage.

His breathing became more even and deeper.

Finally, he fell asleep.

They fell into a deep, complete sleep.

The office was silent. Only the teacher's steady breathing and the occasional sound of the night wind outside the window could be heard.

Nagisa—in black—stopped moving. But he didn't move, remaining in that position, with the teacher's head resting on his lap.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating his face.

That beautiful and gentle face that belonged to Nagisa was now slowly raising a smile.

It wasn't Nagisa's gentle, reserved smile, nor Mika's cheerful, bright smile, but rather... a cold, smug, and calculating smile.

The curve of his lips slowly widened, his eyes narrowed slightly, and a dangerous glint flashed in his blue eyes.

Everything is going according to plan.

He gently stroked the teacher's hair, his movements still tender, but his eyes had completely changed.

"Sleep well, teacher," he said softly, his voice no longer the gentle and elegant tone of Nagisa, but a deep, magnetic voice belonging to the man in black. "Sleep well. When you wake up... everything will be different."

His fingers ran through the teacher's hair, the movements as gentle as if he were handling a precious treasure, but the malice in his eyes was as cold as a venomous snake.

“You think this is tenderness?” he said softly, his voice full of sarcasm. “No, it’s a trap. The sweetest trap.”

He lowered his head, his lips almost touching the teacher's ear.

“I will let you gradually get used to this gentleness, this care, this… feeling of being understood. Then, when you completely let your guard down, when you start to rely on me, when you start to believe that I really am Nagisa…”

He laughed, a soft laugh that sounded particularly jarring in the quiet office.

"At that time, I will close the net and make you completely... mine."

The moonlight shone on his face, making his twisted smile look particularly terrifying. But he quickly composed himself and reverted to his gentle and considerate self.

He continued to gently massage the teacher's temples, his movements still gentle and professional.

Everything is going according to plan.

All you need is patience.

All it takes is time.

Outside the window, the night was deep. The hourly chimes of the Holy Trinity Bell Tower echoed through the night sky before gradually fading away.

In the office, the teacher was fast asleep, her head resting on "Zhu's" lap, her breathing steady and deep.

Meanwhile, "Zhu" sat quietly, smiling, waiting.

Waiting for the next stage of the plan.

HE (Happy Ending) route: