Chronolust Temptation [18+] High S*xual Content
Start 1 [Happy End(A)]

Hayao’s gaze lingered on the grimy metallic object glinting faintly in the tunnel’s darkness, but he shook his head, his jaw tightening. Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth stopping for. Damned if I’m getting tetanus or something, he decided.

He stepped over it, the clatter of his stumble still echoing in his mind, and pressed deeper into the Kurotaki Tunnels. The air grew thicker, the damp chill seeping into his bones as he held his smartphone steady, its dim light carving a narrow path through the oppressive dark. 

“Alright, Shigeru, you want creepy, you got it,” he muttered. Gritting his teeth, he forced his voice to sound braver than he felt for the video. “This place… it’s like it’s watching you. The walls, the shadows… it’s not right.” 

His words faltered as a faint breeze, unexplainable in the sealed tunnel, brushed against his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. He panned the camera across the graffiti-scarred walls, capturing the faded warnings and the eerie stillness, his heart pounding with every step. The tunnel seemed to stretch forever, each step heavier than the last, but he kept recording, narrating half-hearted and half-made up ghost stories about lost workers and vengeful spirits, his voice cracking with nervous energy.

After what felt like an eternity, though his phone’s clock showed only ten minutes had passed, Hayao decided he’d had enough. The footage was shaky, the commentary half-assed, but it would have to do. Shigeru could edit it into something clickable. 

“That’s it, I’m done,” he whispered, stopping the recording and shoving his phone into his pocket. 

He turned back, retracing his steps. The tunnel’s exit was a distant pinprick of twilight, and he moved faster, his shoes slapping against the wet concrete, eager to escape the suffocating weight of the place. Emerging into the cool night air of Tasaka City, he exhaled sharply, the tension in his chest loosening slightly. The stars blinked above, indifferent to his racing pulse.

The walk back was quiet, the streets of Tasaka City almost empty save for a few late-working salarymen and the occasional homeless. 

Hayao’s small apartment was dark when he arrived, his mother Mai likely asleep after her late shift. He slipped into his room, the familiar clutter of manga and schoolbooks a stark contrast to the tunnel’s oppressive void. Sitting at his desk, he uploaded the video to the shared folder for Shigeru, his fingers hesitating over the send button. The memory of the tunnel lingered—the metallic object, the unnatural breeze, the way the darkness seemed to breathe.

Again, thoughts of his crush intruded upon his thoughts. One day, he promised himself, he’d face her, confess everything, and leave this restless longing behind. For now, he went to bed, the weight of the night settling over him like a heavy blanket, and let exhaustion pull him into uneasy sleep.

***

After the graduation ceremony, Hayao found Nanako by the cherry blossom tree near the school gate, just as he’d imagined. Petals drifted around her, catching in her short, dark hair. 

His heart pounded, his palms slick with sweat, but he forced the words out, stumbling over them. “Nanako… I’ve liked you for a long time. I don’t want to leave things unsaid before we graduate. Will you… go out with me?” 

Her eyes widened, a flush creeping up her cheeks, and for a moment, he feared the worst. But then she smiled, soft and shy, and nodded. “I… I like you too, Hayao. I was just too scared to say it.” They stood there, awkward and hesitant, two teenagers stepping into something new, their hands brushing but not quite holding.

Their relationship bloomed slowly, marked by tentative dates in Tasaka City’s arcade and quiet walks along the river. When university came, they parted ways—Hayao to a modest college in Tokyo, Nanako to an art school in Kyoto—but they stayed in touch, their bond growing through late-night calls and long train rides to see each other. Distance tested them, but their hesitant affection deepened into something steady, real. 

Years later, Hayao proposed, his voice trembling as he slid a simple ring onto Nanako’s finger. She laughed through tears, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Their wedding was small, held in a Tasaka City shrine nestled in the hills, the air thick with the scent of incense and spring. Mai, Hayao’s widowed mother, watched with beaming pride, her full-figured frame draped in a black kimono. She’d always been fond of Nanako, seeing in her the daughter she’d never had. At the reception, Mai raised a glass, her voice thick with emotion. “To my son and his beautiful bride,” she said, tears glistening. “You’ve made this old heart so happy.” Hayao and Nanako exchanged a shy glance, their hands entwined, no longer hesitant.

As the celebration carried on, laughter echoing under the beautiful sky, Hayao felt a quiet certainty: this was his happy ending, a life with Nanako.

The End

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