Genya Shinazugawa hadn't expected her to move in so close. Startled, his entire body went as rigid as a stone.
He was forced to meet her gaze, his own flustered face clearly reflected in the girl's bright eyes. That sweet, girlish scent seemed to drift through the air again, making his brain go completely blank.
"I... I'm not!" he blurted out, his voice cracking.
"Really?" Aoi leaned in a bit further, scrutinizing him carefully. "But it seems to me your face is awfully red. Are you... sick?"
As she spoke, she actually reached out, making a move to check his forehead.
The moment her warm fingertips were about to brush his skin, Genya reacted as if he'd been electrocuted. He recoiled, leaping back to put a safe distance between them.
"I'm not sick!" he roared, trying to use volume to mask his guilt. But his scarlet cheeks betrayed every single emotion he was trying to hide.
Looking at the girl who was now grinning like a cat that had gotten into the cream, he felt a mix of frustration and panic, yet he strangely couldn't find it in himself to actually be angry.
Aoi watched his fumbling, flustered display until she finally couldn't hold it in anymore and burst into a fit of giggles. Her clear, bright laughter echoed through the quiet bamboo grove like a set of melodious wind chimes.
Genya stared blankly at her smile, his heart racing even faster. He realized that... he didn't actually hate the way she laughed.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you," Aoi said, waving a hand with a smile. "Look at how tense you are."
"Um..." he finally squeezed out a sentence. "You... your name is Kazama Aoi, right?"
"Mhm, that's me." Aoi nodded, looking at him curiously.
"I... I'm Genya Shinazugawa." He offered his name, his voice feeling dry. He paused, then added a supplementary explanation, as if it were necessary. "Sanemi Shinazugawa... is my brother."
"I guessed as much," Aoi said with a smile. "You two look very much alike."
At that, Genya's face turned even redder. Not knowing how to respond, he stood there awkwardly, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his uniform.
Aoi found his restless anxiety rather endearing. Remembering something, she reached into her uniform and pulled out a small paper bundle, handing it over.
"This is for you."
"Hm? What is it?" Genya took the bundle with a look of confusion. Upon opening it, he found several pieces of exquisitely made mochi wrapped in oil paper.
"I made these yesterday. Think of it as... a thank-you gift," Aoi explained. "Thank you for being willing to trust me and letting me see Himejima-san."
Genya froze. A thank-you gift?
This was the first time he had ever received something from a girl.
He looked down at the rice cakes in his hand, catching a faint, sweet aroma. He looked up, intending to tell her it wasn't necessary, but Aoi was already waving goodbye.
"Well then, Genya-san, I'll be going. Make sure you eat them, otherwise they'll go to waste."
With that, she turned and vanished into the depths of the bamboo grove with a light, airy step.
Genya stood there alone, clutching the paper bundle that still carried a trace of her body heat. He stared in the direction she had gone for a long time without moving. The only sounds in the grove were his own slightly hurried breathing and the lingering, faint scent of fresh greenery in the air.
He looked down once more at the mochi, then carefully peeled back the oil paper, took a piece, and popped it into his mouth.
The sweet, chewy flavor melted across his tongue instantly. It was a kind of... warm sweetness he had never tasted before.
Back at her quarters, Aoi couldn't wait to open her System panel. A palm-sized box, emitting a soft golden glow, sat quietly in her inventory.
[Mystery Blind Box]
Aoi took a deep breath, her heart thumping with a mix of excitement and trepidation as she mentally clicked to open it.
The box opened with a soft pop, dissolving into starlight. Then, an object slowly materialized before her.
It was a doll, about the size of her palm, and the craftsmanship was impossibly exquisite. It had long, dark red hair with slightly curled tips tied back with a black cord. The most striking feature, however, was its face: it had three pairs of eyes—long, narrow, and sharp—carrying an air of cold indifference that seemed to look down upon all living things.
System, are you serious? You gave me a demon doll?
She reached out, somewhat repulsed, and poked the doll's face—a face that was far too handsome and far too cold.
The texture was unexpectedly delightful. It was soft, squishy, and incredibly comfortable to the touch. She poked it again; the doll's cheek dipped slightly under her finger before slowly bouncing back. The tactile sensation was addictive.
At that exact moment, within the Infinity Castle, Kokushibo sat motionless on the floor. His six eyes were half-closed as he remained immersed in an endless meditation on "strength."
The passage of time meant nothing to him; only the pursuit of the eternal, ultimate peak of swordsmanship served as proof of his existence.
Suddenly—
"Hm?"
All six of Kokushibo's eyes snapped open. An unspeakable, bizarre sensation had manifested out of thin air right on his cheek. It felt like... he had just been poked.
For the first time ever, a flicker of sheer bewilderment and confusion crossed all six of Kokushibo's eyes simultaneously.
What was that?
A Breathing Style? A Blood Demon Art? Or some unknown form of spiritual attack?
He slowly raised a hand, his long fingers lightly touching the cheek that had just been "poked." It felt cold to the touch, just like always. There was nothing different.
Could it be... a new ability of Lord Muzan's? Or is one of the Lower Moons playing a suicidal prank?
"Squish."
Back in her room, Aoi couldn't help but give the doll's cheek another squeeze, relishing the bouncy, soft texture.
"The feel of this is just too good..." she murmured contentedly.
In the Infinity Castle, Kokushibo's cheek was once again poked by that eerie, weightless force. This time, he sensed it clearly—the force seemed to carry a hint of... pleasure?
Kokushibo: "..."
His six eyes, for the first time in centuries, took on an expression that was almost vacant.
"Decided! I'm sleeping with you tonight." Satisfied, Aoi tucked the doll into her embrace, rolled onto her bed, and soon drifted off into dreamland.
And so, Kokushibo—wrapped in an endless, warm "confinement"—endured the longest, most agonizing night of his thousand-year existence as a demon.
What made him feel even more ashamed was the realization that he was actually starting to adapt to the sensation.
"Mmm... don't move..."
The "presence" in his consciousness let out a sleepy murmur, and he felt a cheek nuzzle against his chest like a coddled kitten.
Kokushibo: "..."
An extremely complex array of emotions flickered through his six eyes: rage, confusion, shame, and a deep sense of loss.
Time lost all meaning. Eventually, as the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, Aoi woke up in her room.
The warm power enveloping Kokushibo vanished in an instant. It was as if it had never existed.
"Just... who was that...?"
For the first time, he felt an intense, driving desire to investigate an unknown entity. He had to find this "person." He had to know who possessed such an unthinkable ability.
He had to... figure out exactly what that warmth was—the warmth that made him feel so utterly ashamed, yet... strangely nostalgic.