He had even prepared breakfast—and it was Masatsuki Aozaki’s favorite.
When people don’t know soone else’s preferences, they subconsciously assu their own favorites are the best and offer them instead.
Senjumaru Shutara understood this well.
A sudden wave of gratitude and delight washed over her as she carefully sat down.
They didn’t actually need to eat, given their circumstances.
But cravings had nothing to do with necessity.
The fact that Masatsuki Aozaki had thought of this from the very beginning was truly touching.
He might look a little mischievous, but deep down, he was an incredibly considerate and gentle man.
Senjumaru Shutara’s impression of Masatsuki Aozaki rose even further.
Then, as she parted her lips and bit into the glistening, roasted sausage—
"...It’s delicious!"
A familiar taste.
Even after so many years apart, even though she had never eaten this particular dish before, she could tell—Masatsuki Aozaki’s cooking skills hadn’t declined in the slightest.
Just as she was happily eating, she glanced up absentmindedly—
And at that mont, she spotted Masatsuki Aozaki walking over from Kirio Hikifune’s bedroom, scratching his head.
There was a hint of exhaustion and drowsiness on his face.
"Masatsuki! You must be exhausted after working all night. You look so tired," she asked with concern.
Masatsuki Aozaki shook his head. "Ah... I spent all night refining my control over my Reiatsu. It took a lot of energy, but I wouldn’t say I’m tired."
"My efforts weren’t in vain, right? Oh, what ti is it now?"
Hearing his question, Senjumaru Shutara imdiately turned to the large clock on the wall.
The hour hand pointed to eight.
"It’s still early, Masatsuki! Why don’t you go rest in your room for a while?" she suggested.
But Masatsuki Aozaki didn’t respond. Instead, he simply stared at her.
Then, without warning, he reached out and brushed his fingers against her cheek, tracing along her skin until he reached the corner of her mouth.
"Masatsuki—!"
Senjumaru Shutara let out a startled cry, as if struck by electricity.
The warmth of his fingertips sent a shiver down her spine, making her tremble involuntarily.
For a mont, her mind went blank—she didn’t even think to dodge.
Masatsuki Aozaki slowly parted his lips, and in response, the normally composed Senjumaru instinctively shut her eyes...
"You’ve got oil all over your face. Was it really that good? Senjumaru-senpai."
Masatsuki Aozaki smirked playfully, gently pinching her cheek.
"Y-You little brat! What do you think you’re doing?!"
Senjumaru Shutara’s face flushed scarlet.
Her head shook furiously, like a rattle drum, as she tried to escape his grasp.
Like a startled schoolgirl backing away from a shady old man on a train, she recoiled and frantically patted her own cheeks.
Her sleek, dark hair swayed wildly beside her face.
Masatsuki Aozaki blinked, confused, his brows furrowing slightly.
Logically speaking...
I was just wiping her face. Was that really worth such an overreaction?
I touched the corner of her mouth last night too, and she didn’t say anything.
Could it be that her brain runs on a single-core processor, and she was just too embarrassed to react at the ti?
Having long since discarded any notion of sha, Masatsuki Aozaki saw nothing wrong with his actions.
In fact, he found himself silently analyzing the reason behind her drastically different reactions.
He blinked.
Paused.
Then, after a brief mont of thought—
Suddenly, realization struck.
With an exaggerated motion, he smacked his palm against his own forehead.
It seed he had figured sothing important out.
Then, with an apologetic tone, he said,
"Ah, my bad—I forgot."
Masatsuki Aozaki nodded with an unusually serious expression, his gaze locking onto Senjumaru Shutara with a sincerity she had never seen before.
His eyes were filled with warmth and understanding, as if he had already seen through everything. Then, in a soft voice, he said—
"Sorry... I forgot. You haven’t had such close contact with a man in over a thousand years. I shouldn’t have touched you so casually."
The mont those words reached her ears, Senjumaru’s body trembled slightly, and her eyes instantly lost their light.
She froze.
A dark aura seed to radiate from her entire being.
Ti ticked by, second after second, stretching endlessly as if an entire century had passed.
Slowly, the color drained from her face. The sparkle in her eyes dimd, fading into an empty abyss of darkness.
There was no longer any trace of life in those eyes, as if her very soul had been sucked away.
Then, in an eerily slow motion—like a scene straight out of a horror movie—she lifted her head.
Her head tilted slightly to the side, her hand resting on Masatsuki Aozaki’s shoulder, as an icy breath escaped from her lips.
"Masatsuki-chan~~"
...
"Damn, it’s freezing... Wearing only an apron like this in such an ’honest’ state is definitely a first for ."
"Your thod of attack is pretty unique, I’ll give you that. Who would’ve thought you could make feel such an inexplicable sense of sha?"
"So, Kirio, I’m begging you—just bring so clothes already."
Masatsuki Aozaki turned to look at the gloating, purple-haired woman.
"...I-I already apologized! And besides, this is absolutely Masatsuki’s fault! Even if I’m the one apologizing, it’s still completely your fault!"
Senjumaru Shutara clung tightly to a sofa cushion, curling up in Kirio Hikifune’s embrace like a wounded little animal.
Tears clung to the corners of her eyes as her body trembled slightly. Every so often, she let out a soft sob, as if the whole world had been reduced to nothing but the sound of her crying.
And yet, despite all of this, she still forced herself to apologize properly, struggling to keep her emotions in check.
This level of utter humiliation—there probably wasn’t another soul in existence who could match her.
Masatsuki Aozaki sighed and shrugged before turning back to the stove, continuing his work without missing a beat.
At the mont, he was preparing lunch in the kitchen, his movents smooth and practiced.
He never would have imagined that, as a man, he’d one day be standing here, wearing nothing but an apron, playing the role of a ’holy husband.’
Usually, this kind of scene—wearing nothing but an apron—was sothing you’d expect from soone like Rangiku Matsumoto.
Maybe this was what they called the strange fate between a husband and wife.
Masatsuki Aozaki couldn’t help but ponder the thought.
...
After suffering an unprecedented ntal shock, Senjumaru Shutara was drowning in humiliation.
At this point, she had given up entirely on maintaining her dignity, no longer caring about her image.
Her tear-filled, red-rimd peach blossom eyes peeked cautiously from behind the cushion, observing the expressions of Masatsuki Aozaki and Kirio Hikifune.
It felt as if she had lost so of her authority as a senior... No, actually, it had completely crumbled away.
The realization hit her hard, filling her with an overwhelming sense of despair—
And yet, strangely, she also felt a bit relieved.
It wasn’t that she had never interacted with n before. It was just that she had never experienced such direct, intimate physical contact.
Maybe... her reaction earlier had been a little over the top.
But still!
For him to say sothing like that so bluntly to a senior—wasn’t that a little too much?!
Is this really the sa junior who used to respect ? (Masatsuki Aozaki: Sorry, never happened.)
Senjumaru Shutara puffed up her cheeks in frustration.
But seriously! Who in their right mind would just say that to soone’s face?!
And what was with that pitying expression just now?!
I am a strong, independent woman—I don’t need a man! It’s not like I can’t find soone I like!
Just what the hell did Retsu and Kirio even see in this guy...?
He’s nothing but a rude, boundary-less brute.
So damn infuriating!
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / PinkSnake
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