Chapter 77: Whatever Happens Next, Don't Mention My Name.
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"Kyah!!"
"Senpai, don't look over here—!!"
"Ugh...! Mana exhaustion... it hurts so much..."
Three girls in various states of wardrobe malfunction lay scattered across the training ground, faces burning, hands pressed desperately against the gaps in their tattered clothing in a valiant but ultimately optimistic attempt to preserve their dignity.
It was, objectively speaking, a scene that should have produced a very different reaction in any red-blooded young man.
Kihara looked at them with the eyes of a man watching the last straw descend toward a very tired camel.
"You know," he said, to no one in particular, "when I think about the fact that the four of you are going to be the Guardian squad I'm known for producing..." He paused. "I'm genuinely considering just supporting all of you financially for the rest of your lives. In exchange, you never become Guardians, and my professional reputation dies peacefully of old age rather than being publicly executed."
He reached into his dimensional pouch, pulled out three cloaks, and tossed one to each of them. Then he sat down cross-legged in the dirt and stared at the middle distance with the energy of a man who had temporarily run out of responses to the world.
He ran the inventory.
A tank who couldn't hold monster aggression. A healer who turned into a statue when anything above Slime tier appeared. A Black Mage whose attacks had a personal vendetta against the ground directly beside her target, and who had just demonstrated that the concept of friendly fire was not something she'd previously considered relevant. And a Warrior who hadn't shown her problem yet, but who absolutely had one — he could feel it.
Can this party actually clear the starter village? Is that a thing that can happen?
Tokishikko, under the combined weight of her two companions' silent and extremely eloquent stares, steeled herself and shuffled over to where Kihara was sitting. She patted his shoulder. When he looked up, a small sooty hand emerged from the cloak and extended a thumbs-up at close range.
"Boss. Don't sweat it. This is just what beginners look like."
Kihara looked at the thumbs-up for a moment.
"Starting the day after tomorrow," he said, "we're switching to dedicated training sessions here at the abandoned grounds. Every day. No exceptions. The day I say you've passed is the day you're allowed to set foot in Bud Forest. Not before."
"What about our actual Guardian quota?" Hanabata asked, brow creasing with genuine concern. "The guild has minimum requirements — we can't just leave them unmet."
"I'll cover it. I'm the Ace Guardian — ten new recruits' worth of monster subjugation quotas isn't a problem." He glanced at Hitamuki, who had folded herself into a small, apologetic huddle beside him and was gently headbutting his shoulder like a dejected puppy. "This isn't your fault."
"Awuu... Shishou... sorry for the trouble anyway..."
He gave her head a brief pat, then turned to fix Tokishikko with a look. "During training, area-of-effect magic is completely banned. Are we clear."
Her eyes slid sideways. "...Yeah. Got it."
He stood, brushed the grass off the back of his clothes. "I'll walk you back to the guild."
What greeted them upon returning to the Adventurers' Guild was slightly unexpected.
Two maids were waiting by the entrance, replacement clothing folded neatly over their arms, which they presented to the three disheveled girls with the practiced efficiency of staff who had clearly anticipated this outcome. Simultaneously, a butler materialized at Kihara's elbow and lowered his voice to a register designed for one set of ears only.
"Kihara-san. Regarding certain aspects of the young lady's Warrior skill set — we would recommend consulting Tokishikko Dana at your earliest convenience."
Called it. Kihara kept his expression neutral. "Noted. And next time you have people tailing us — keep them further back. I almost classified them as hostiles."
A flicker of something moved through the butler's eyes. The Nokinsu household's staff were not weak — mid-to-upper tier by most measures, experienced, disciplined.
Every single one of them had been knocked unconscious without getting a single warning signal out.
"With Bud Town's Ace Guardian watching over the young lady," the butler said smoothly, recovering his composure, "we have every confidence in her safety. This won't happen again."
"Good."
The butler withdrew. His people, Kihara noted, were already moving toward the training grounds to collect their unconscious colleagues.
A few minutes later the girls emerged from inside the guild, freshly changed, the atmosphere considerably improved.
Hitamuki was wearing a dress.
She walked like a duck — swaying left and right with each step, both hands clamped onto the hem with the white-knuckled grip of someone who had decided the wind was a personal enemy and she would not be giving it any opportunities today.
Tokishikko watched her with visible amusement. "Relax. This is what normal clothes look like. Your athletic gear, if I'm being honest, was a little... much."
"That's fair," Hitamuki said, without disagreeing.
"Senpai — are we training again today?"
"No. Go home and rest." He paused.
"Tokishikko."
She flinched behind Hitamuki, peering out from around her shoulder with the wariness of a small animal that had learned to associate its name with consequences.
"...You're not going to retaliate against me, are you, Boss?"
"Give me your contact information."
"Heh~ Asking for a girl's contact info on the first day — you're not as harmless as you look, are you~?"
Kihara had already taken out his phone.
"Quickly. I still need to debrief Miss Enome before I'm done today."
"Boring.~ Boys with no spontaneity never get popular, you know."
"Hanabata's too, while we're at it. If anyone can't make a training session, send me a message. Don't just not show up."
"Understood!" Hanabata produced her contact details with the prompt efficiency of someone who had been raised to respond to instructions.
The next day — the designated rest-and-get-to-know-each-other day — the girls arrived at the meeting point and immediately encountered the question of what to do with themselves.
Tokishikko surveyed the other three, who were all displaying varying degrees of I have no idea what's happening, and delivered her verdict: "When girls are getting to know each other, it should happen somewhere with dessert. Bud Town's best sweets shop. We eat, we talk, we become people."
"Yes."
"Hitamuki loves the cream waffles there~!"
"I prefer the strawberry parfait, personally."
While his four problem children were bonding over sugar, Kihara sat in the Adventurers' Guild main hall with a stack of reports and training plans, delivering his findings to Enome with the weary candor of a man filing an incident report he never expected to have to write.
"I asked Tokishikko yesterday. Apparently Hanabata's Berserk skill has a complication — something to do with her constitution. She has what's called a mana intoxication trait. When she activates Berserk, it hits her system the same way alcohol would. She fights drunk."
"Ahaha..." Enome produced a smile that was mostly helplessness. "I... see."
She genuinely hadn't anticipated that all four of them would turn out to be this particular. But watching him now — complaining steadily with his mouth while his hands moved with complete focus through the training schedules he was drafting for each of them individually, tailored, specific — she felt something warm tick upward in her chest.
Sharp tongue, soft core. It was always more trustworthy than the reverse.
In all her years behind this counter, she had seen plenty of senior Guardians greet new recruits. She had never seen one take this kind of care with people he'd known for less than a week. Not like this. Not for people who'd given him nothing but headaches.
And the reason he was doing it — she knew the reason.
Because she had asked him to.
Enome had raised Eshune alone. For a long time, being relied upon was the only mode she knew. The feeling moving through her now was different, quieter, and considerably more disorienting.
Being the one someone is doing this for.
She found herself watching the line of his back without entirely meaning to.
His phone rang.
He tapped the speaker and set it face-up on the table without breaking stride on his writing.
"Yeah?"
"Boss~! It's me, Tokishikko~!"
"I'm listening."
"Sooo... ahem." A pause, theatrical in its construction. "Hypothetically. Between the four of us — me, Hanabata, Hitamuki, Maidena — if you had to pick one to date, who would it be?"
"Miss Enome," Kihara said, without looking up from his paperwork.
He ended the call. Went back to writing.
Behind the front desk, Enome sat very still.
A faint, involuntary sound escaped her.
Then, by visible degrees, something in the vicinity of her ears began to produce what could only be described as steam — a soft, spreading warmth that climbed from her neck to her hairline, turning her cheeks the precise shade of pink that her golden hair was currently doing an inadequate job of concealing.
She lowered her head.
Pressed her hands flat against the desk.
And stared at the paperwork in front of her as though it contained the answers to questions she hadn't quite figured out how to ask yet.
....
Thank you for reading.