The afternoon sun, warm and gentle, casts long shadows across the bustling shopping district. Kaoruko Waguri, her dark, almost blackish-purple hair catching the light, walks beside her boyfriend, a soft smile gracing her lips. She looks particularly elegant today: a crisp white blouse with a delicate ribbon tied at the collar, a pleated dress skirt that sways gently with her steps, and her legs encased in sleek latex stockings that lead down to slender high heels. It is their usual Saturday date, a cherished ritual for the 18-year-old student of Kikyo Private Academy and her boyfriend from the neighboring boys' school.

They have spent a pleasant hour browsing a bookstore, Kaoruko delighting in a new recipe book that features many stew dishes – one of her favorites. Now, they are in a trendy clothing store, her boyfriend trying on a new jacket. Kaoruko, ever the patient and thoughtful companion, offers quiet, encouraging words and honest opinions.

"It looks nice on you," she says, her voice soft and sweet, the very essence of her gentle nature. "It suits your style."

Her boyfriend grins, pleased. Just as he turns to examine another display, Kaoruko feels a sudden, urgent need. "Excuse me," she begins, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. "I just need to... find a comfort room. I'll be right back."

Her boyfriend replies, still momentarily engrossed in a rack of shirts. With a polite nod, Kaoruko slips out of the store, her heels making a delicate click on the pavement. She scans the street, spotting a sign for public restrooms further down, across the main road. Taking a deep breath, she begins to cross, her mind already on returning swiftly to her date.

She is halfway across when a shadow falls over her. Her gentle stroll falters as a group of figures emerges from the alleyway opposite, blocking her path. There are three of them, all burly and with a distinctly unpleasant air. Her heart gives a sudden lurch. Their faces, hardened and sneering, are vaguely familiar. Too familiar.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" one of them, the largest, sneers, stepping closer. His eyes, cold and assessing, rake over her from her elegant blouse to her high heels. "Fancy girl, aren't you?"

Kaoruko instinctively takes a step back, her modesty and gentle nature making her acutely uncomfortable with their lewd stares and aggressive demeanor. "Excuse me," she manages, her voice barely a whisper, trying to sidle past them. "I need to go."

But another one, a wiry man with a scar above his eyebrow, is quicker. He reaches out, his rough hand closing around her wrist, surprisingly tight. "Not so fast, princess," he snarls, pulling her closer. "You wouldn't happen to be with him, would you? The one from the neighboring school?"

Kaoruko's eyes widen in alarm. They know her boyfriend. These are the thugs, the former enemies he had spoken of, the ones who had caused trouble back in their high school days. A wave of fear washes over her, chilling her to the bone. They were harassing her simply because she was associated with him.

"Let go of me!" she pleads, trying to pull her hand free, but his grip is like iron. Her gentle nature usually keeps her composed, but this physical intimidation, this raw malice, is something she is utterly unprepared for. Her soft skin feels bruised where his fingers dig into her, and the shame of being so exposed on the public street burns in her cheeks.

"Oh, she is with him!" the first one chuckles, a cruel sound. "Perfect. We've been looking for him. Where is he, little bird? Is he hiding? Or did he send his pretty girlfriend out as bait?"

The two others close in, effectively cornering her against the building wall. Their voices are harsh, their laughter derisive. Kaoruko's mind races, her heart pounding against her ribs. Back in the store, a growing sense of unease settles over her boyfriend. It has been longer than a few minutes. Kaoruko is usually so quick. He shrugs off the jacket he was trying on, a frown creasing his brow as he calls out, but only the sounds of the store answer him. He walks to the entrance, peering out.

His eyes scan the street, searching for her familiar silhouette. And then he sees it. Across the road. A knot of three figures, menacing and familiar even from a distance, pressing against a smaller, elegant figure dressed in white and black. His blood runs cold. The white blouse. The black skirt. The distinctive hair. It is Kaoruko. And she is caught in the clutches of his old enemies.

A cold rage, unlike anything he has felt in years, surges through him. Without a second thought, he bursts out of the store, his previous leisurely walk replaced by a furious sprint across the road.