Living Room – Sixth Unit Headquarters.
Having just returned from the First Unit's headquarters, Naoki stepped inside with a body that still ached from being thrown around by Riu all day. The sweat had dried, but the exhaustion clung to every fiber of his muscles.
His gaze immediately fell on the main sofa.
There, Yachiho lay stretched out with an air of ease, leafing through a poetry book. Her posture was entirely relaxed—a sharp contrast to her usual graceful and calculated bearing.
She was wearing a light cream hoodie with a slightly loose cut, draped over a simple white t-shirt underneath. The hoodie's sleeves were pushed up to mid-forearm in a casually disheveled way.
But what caught Naoki's eye most was what she had on below.
Yachiho was wearing only hotpants in a shade matching her hoodie. The combination left her long, fair legs fully on display, stretched out barefoot across the soft sofa surface. Her smooth thighs contrasted against the dark upholstery, while her slender calves rested casually off the edge.
Her blue-green hair, tied in its characteristic twintails, lay slightly tousled against the pillow. Her eyes were focused on the poetry book in her hands, her lips occasionally moving in silence as she read lines of verse.
To Naoki's eyes, the sight felt almost too "open" for an indoor setting.
"Oh, Naoki. You're back."
Yachiho shifted her gaze from the book to Naoki and greeted him without ceremony.
"I'm back." Naoki answered briefly, his eyes drifting to the coffee table in front of the sofa. Several blank sheets of paper and a pen lay there. "Are you writing poetry?"
"Yes. You could say that." Yachiho lifted her poetry book slightly, showing its classic cover. "Looking for inspiration. Writing takes... the right mood."
"I see. Do your best."
Naoki wasn't particularly drawn to poetry. He'd learned that Yachiho's hobby was writing it after living with the Sixth Unit for a few days. But he couldn't quite see where the appeal lay. To him, poetry was just a string of beautiful words he could never fully understand.
He turned, intending to head for the bathroom. His skin was sticky, he smelled, and what he wanted most right now was warm water running over his head.
"Wait, Naoki!"
Yachiho's voice stopped him just as his hand touched the door handle.
Naoki turned. "What?"
Yachiho had already gotten off the sofa. The poetry book was set on the table, and now the girl stood with her hands on her hips. Her twintails swayed as she stepped closer.
She looked Naoki over from head to toe—the rumpled shirt, slightly disheveled hair, dark circles under his eyes. Her expression shifted into one of amusement.
"You look exhausted." Yachiho said—not a question, but a statement. "Let me give you a massage."
Naoki raised an eyebrow.
Yachiho gave her signature smile, a touch arrogant but undeniably charming. "You should consider yourself lucky to receive the Azuma family's secret technique for free. Usually, people pay dearly for this."
Naoki was already accustomed to that tone of hers. Over the days they had spent together, he had learned that beneath the confident, slightly haughty exterior, Yachiho was actually a kind girl—just a little... unique in how she expressed it.
"In that case, I'll take you up on that." Naoki nodded.
After all, his body genuinely needed recovery. A free massage from an expert? Why not.
Yachiho smiled with satisfaction. "Wait here. I'll get the supplies."
She darted off to her room, leaving Naoki standing in the middle of the living room. A moment later she returned, carrying a rolled mat and a small bottle of clear liquid.
"Lie down on the floor." Yachiho instructed as she spread the thin mat across the living room floor. Her movements were practiced—the mat was smoothly laid out within seconds.
Naoki complied. He stretched himself out on the mat, face down. It was soft yet not overly thick—just enough to cushion him from the hard wooden floor.
Yachiho knelt beside him. She opened the aromatherapy oil bottle, and immediately the gentle scent of lily filled Naoki's senses. The fragrance was calming, in stark contrast to the ache still present throughout his body.
"Don't tense up like that, or your muscles will lock when I press on them." Yachiho said in an instructive tone. Her fingers were already busy applying the oil to her palms, rubbing them together until it spread evenly.
Naoki adjusted his position slightly, attempting to relax his muscles. His face rested against the mat, turned to one side so he could breathe comfortably.
From where he lay, he could feel Yachiho's presence as she knelt directly beside his waist. The lily scent grew stronger, blending with the faint trace of her characteristic perfume.
"This technique has been passed down through the Azuma family for generations." Yachiho said in a tone of quiet authority. "Specifically designed to restore extreme physical and mental exhaustion."
She paused briefly, making sure Naoki was listening.
"This massage improves the flow of energy in the body, disperses lactic acid and muscle tension in a short time, and delivers a healing effect that leaves the body feeling completely renewed."
Naoki raised one eyebrow. "Seriously? A mere massage has that many benefits? Yachiho, you sound like a fraudulent salesperson."
"Hmph! You'll find out soon enough whether it's real or not."
Without warning, Yachiho placed both palms on Naoki's lower back. Then, with pressure that was surprising for someone her size, she pushed upward—from the lower back all the way to the shoulder blades.
"O-oi, Yachiho..."
Naoki winced. A sharp pain stabbed through the areas being pressed. His stiff muscles were being forcefully stretched.
"Isn't this too hard?" He groaned, his face pressing deeper into the mat.
Yachiho gave a small laugh. She didn't ease the pressure—if anything, she increased the intensity.
"Quiet. That pain is just a sign your body is full of 'waste'—accumulated lactic acid and tension. If you can't handle this, you'll never be able to keep up with me."
Her pressure shifted. Her thumbs pressed into specific points along Naoki's spine, while her other fingers worked the surrounding muscles. Her movements were precise, like someone who genuinely knew what they were doing.
Then, without warning, Yachiho changed her position. Her knees rose to straddle the back of Naoki's thighs—pinning him in place. Before Naoki could react, Yachiho reached for both his arms and pulled them back.
*CRACK!*
The extreme stretch made Naoki's shoulder joints pop loudly. A sharp pain radiated from his shoulders to his fingertips. He bit back a groan, his face briefly draining of color.
But in the midst of that sharp pain, something strange happened.
A wave of warmth swept through every nerve—a sense of euphoria that was difficult to describe. The pain shifted, melting into a warmth that spread throughout his body. The muscles that had felt like tangled cables suddenly relaxed, flowed, became pliable.
Naoki's breath escaped in a long exhale.
Yachiho smiled with satisfaction. She noticed beads of sweat beginning to drip from her forehead, falling onto Naoki's half-bare back. This close, Naoki could feel Yachiho's quickening breath near his neck.
"See? Your body is starting to relax." Yachiho whispered close to Naoki's ear, full of triumph.
She released her grip on his arms and moved to the shoulder area. With circular motions, her elbows pressed into specific points around his shoulder blades. The pressure was deep, breaking down the last remnants of muscle tension with merciless yet highly precise force.
Naoki was at a loss for words. The mixture of pain and relief left him capable of nothing but surrender.
Yachiho kept working her palms across Naoki's back—up, down, rotating, pressing. The rhythm of her movements gradually slowed, becoming gentler and more measured. From the hard, crushing pressure, it shifted into smoother, more soothing strokes.
In the silence of the room, filled only with the sound of their breathing—Yachiho's slightly labored, Naoki's growing steadier—Yachiho gave a small, quiet clearing of her throat.
"Hey, Naoki." Her tone shifted slightly. The usual confidence dimmed, replaced by something tentative.
"Mm?" Naoki responded without changing position. His face was still half-buried in the mat.
"What kind of person do you think I am?"
The question hung in the air.
Naoki didn't answer immediately. He felt the pressure of Yachiho's fingers on his back change slightly—not as deep, as though the girl were waiting for his answer with quiet anxiety.
Naoki answered without hesitation. "You're asking that now? Well, honestly... you're remarkable, Yachiho."
Yachiho's fingers paused for a moment, then resumed with slower movements.
"It's not just about your strength—though that's part of it—but you're also beautiful and elegant. Every movement you make carries a naturally aristocratic aura. Even when you were lounging on the sofa just now, there was something... captivating."
Naoki continued, oblivious—or perhaps not—to the effect his words were having.
"And that confidence of yours... that's what draws attention most. You know what you want and you're not afraid to show it. Not many people can do that. To me, you're a fascinating woman."
Silence.
Yachiho's hands stilled completely on Naoki's shoulders.
Had Naoki been able to turn around at that moment, he would have seen a sight that was rarely—if ever—witnessed.
Yachiho's face, which normally wore a confident, slightly arrogant smile, was now deeply flushed. The red spread intensely from her cheeks, down her neck, all the way to the tips of her small ears.
She bit her lower lip, doing her best to hold back the sudden pounding of her heart that had taken on a life of its own. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing—which had been settling—once again coming in short bursts.
"I-Idiot..." She whispered, barely audible. "What on earth are you saying."
Yachiho tried to resume the massage, but her hands felt awkward.
A few moments passed in stilted silence. Yachiho attempted to compose herself—drawing a deep breath, releasing it slowly. But her cheeks were still red, and her heart still refused to cooperate.
At last, she leaned forward slightly. Her blue-green hair fell in front of her, brushing against Naoki's bare back. The strands felt soft, lightly tickling his skin.
"There's something you should know, Naoki." Her tone shifted abruptly to something serious. "My grandmother... Tobera Azuma... she already knows of your existence. She gave me specific instructions. She said I should 'get close to you' more than anyone else."
On the mat, Naoki listened to those words calmly, without any trace of surprise.
In the original timeline, Yuuki had been a rare anomaly. Although he was a man who was ordinarily useless in Mato, his body possessed extraordinary compatibility with the power of the Anti-Demon Corps women through Kyouka's Peach Blossom Blessing—«Eternal Chains». Tobera had seen him as a biological asset that could produce offspring with power potential unlike anything seen before.
The Azuma family was known as a noble clan that placed enormous value on the hierarchy of strength. Tobera felt her family's standing was beginning to dim compared to other units. By marrying members of her clan—such as Himari or Yachiho—to Yuuki, she hoped the children born would inherit Yuuki's physical resilience and the Azuma clan's supernatural strength.
That was a long-term plan. A plan to maintain or even elevate the Azuma family's dominance in the next generation.
And now, Naoki was here. Many times more remarkable than the original protagonist.
The first man with a Peach Blossom Blessing, capable of holding his own against Yamashiro Ren in a one-on-one fight.
It was no wonder Tobera had turned her gaze toward him rather than Yuuki.
As the family's very elderly head—though her appearance was youthful due to her Peach Blossom Blessing—Tobera was thinking far ahead about the sustained dominance of her family within the Anti-Demon Corps. To her, Naoki was the "key" to giving birth to a golden new generation for the Azuma family.
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