Chapter 175: Makomo's Sudden Cup-Sorrow
As it turned out, Kanae's mastery over Total Concentration Breathing was nothing short of spectacular. Her lung capacity easily rivaled Akira's own. When their lips finally parted after what felt like an eternity, a thin, glistening thread connected them for a fleeting second before snapping.
Kanae leaned her weight against his chest, her slender fingers curling into his uniform as she steadied her slightly ragged breathing. The faint, sweet scent of wisteria and medicinal herbs clung to her skin.
"Akira-kun," she murmured, her voice carrying a soft, breathy lilt. "You seem a little too practiced at this."
Reaching up, she lightly poked the center of his chest. Her lips pushed out into a delicate pout, perfectly mimicking the picture of a jealous lover. Yet, a quick glance into her pale violet eyes revealed no actual anger—only a glimmer of mischievous craftiness, veiled beneath a heavy, rosy flush that painted her cheeks.
Caught entirely off guard by the sudden accusation, Akira didn't quite dare to meet her gaze. He subconsciously shifted his eyes toward the nearby treeline, rubbing the back of his neck as he offered a halting response.
"Ahaha... well, I might have practiced with Makomo a few times in private before. And, a little while ago, Shinobu also..."
Hearing his flustered confession, Kanae's facade crumbled. A light, melodic giggle escaped her lips, her shoulders trembling with suppressed amusement. Akira snapped his head back around, the realization dawning on him a second too late. The girl before him was just pulling his leg.
For the usually serene, endlessly patient Kanae to pull such a prank? The first culprit that came to Akira's mind was her closest confidante.
He loosened his hold on her waist, taking a half-step back as he sighed with mock devastation. "I can't believe it. Makomo has actually corrupted my sweet, innocent Kanae."
"Hmm..." Kanae tapped her chin thoughtfully, her eyes curving into happy crescents. "While that specific phrasing does sound exactly like Makomo's style, the one who actually taught me to say that was Shinobu."
Without missing a beat, she sold out her younger sister on the spot.
"Selling out a teammate without hesitation—and your own flesh and blood, no less?" Akira stared at her, momentarily stunned by her cheerful bluntness. "Kanae, you really have been corrupted, haven't you?"
"Mm... is there a problem?" She tilted her head, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Besides, you tease Shinobu all the time anyway. Whether you have a valid reason or not, the outcome is exactly the same."
"Hiss—" Akira drew in a sharp breath. "I guess that's technically true." He felt like something in her logic was slightly skewed, but unable to pinpoint the exact flaw, he just nodded blankly.
"Wait a minute," he caught himself. "Shouldn't the main issue here be that you, the responsible older sister, just threw your little sister under the carriage?"
"Ara, let's just call it even for the head start Shinobu got earlier." Kanae's gaze flickered away for a fraction of a second, a fleeting shadow of genuine emotion crossing her features before she smoothed it over with a self-assured smile. "I did warn you, didn't I? I can be a very bad older sister who gets jealous of her own sibling."
She stepped closer, smoothing the lapels of his uniform. "Besides, I know you would never truly bully Shinobu. Playing around with you occasionally is exactly what she needs to relax."
Her tone softened, carrying a trace of sisterly concern. "On a daily basis, she is either buried in patient charts or locked away doing toxicological research. Bickering with you is one of her few genuine forms of entertainment."
Akira didn't reply immediately. He just stood there, staring intently down at the beautiful woman before him.
Kanae met his gaze with absolute calm, thoroughly convinced by her own reasoning. The woman standing here right now wasn't just the gentle, infallible, and endlessly reliable pillar of the Butterfly Mansion. She was a girl in love—still endlessly kind, but now possessing a vibrant spark of playfulness and selfish desire.
And Akira absolutely adored every single facet of her.
also, her assessment was entirely accurate. Shinobu had far too few recreational outlets. Akira was the only one stubborn enough to drag her away from her microscopes, completely ignoring her venomous verbal jabs until she finally took a break.
In truth, it wasn't just Shinobu. The other girls in his life were exactly the same. Every ounce of their energy was poured into grueling training or medical duties. Their only moments of respite came during brief meals or when they were bantering with him.
The root cause of this endless exhaustion was obvious. Kibutsuji Muzan and his vile brood of demons.
If not for that ancient monster, these wonderful girls wouldn't have to carry such heavy burdens. They wouldn't have to push themselves to the brink of collapse every single day.
His jaw tightened slightly. 'I need to accelerate my plans. Get stronger, hunt that bastard down, and drag Muzan out into the sun to bake.'
After lingering in the quiet shade for a while longer, stealing a few more soft kisses, the two of them finally turned back. Fingers intertwined, they walked hand-in-hand toward the bustling grounds of the Butterfly Mansion.
The moment they stepped through the gates, they were greeted by a familiar face. When Makomo caught wind of what Akira and Kanae had been up to over the past few days, a sly, knowing grin spread across her face.
"My, my," Makomo teased, crossing her arms. "And here I thought you two were off performing a certain specialized use of Total Concentration Breathing again."
Faced with the blatant provocation, Akira didn't say a single word.
Instead, he simply lowered his gaze, slowly and deliberately sweeping his eyes over Makomo's chest. Then, he turned his head and performed the exact same slow, evaluating sweep over Kanae's decidedly more generous curves. Finally, his eyes drifted back to Makomo, locking onto her flat chest with a look of deep, silent pity.
He said absolutely nothing. Yet, the devastating comparison echoed louder than a thunderclap.
Makomo froze. The smug grin slid right off her face. She looked down at her own uniform, then snapped her head up to stare at Kanae's impressive silhouette.
In a fraction of a second, her entire face—from her cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears—ignited into a violent, beet-red blush.
"A—KI—RA—!!!"
"Help!" Akira spun on his heel, immediately breaking into a sprint across the courtyard. "Murder! Domestic violence! My wife is trying to kill me!"
"Get back here and die!" Makomo shrieked, drawing her wooden training sword and chasing after him in a flurry of embarrassed rage.
Standing by the porch, Kanae, Shinobu, and the rest of the girls who had come out to greet them watched the chaotic game of tag with vastly different expressions.
Shinobu subtly averted her eyes. She stole a quick, downward glance at her own chest, then let out a very quiet, very private sigh of relief, lightly patting her uniform. 'Safe.'
Beside her, Mitsuri blinked her large, pale green eyes, utterly lost. She tilted her head, her thick pink-and-green braids swaying. She couldn't fathom why Akira's complete silence had provoked Makomo into a murderous, blushing frenzy.
Everyone else in the courtyard seemed to understand the silent insult perfectly, watching the chase with amused smiles and zero intention of intervening.
Unable to crack the mystery herself, Mitsuri leaned over, gently tugging on Shinobu's butterfly-patterned sleeve. She leaned in and whispered her question.
Shinobu covered her mouth, leaning back to whisper the explanation into the Love Hashira's ear.
A second later, it was as if a forbidden door to a new world had been kicked open in Mitsuri's mind. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers, and steam practically whistled out of her ears. Her face turned so red she looked like a ripe tomato. Her knees buckled from the sheer embarrassment of the topic, and if Shinobu hadn't quickly grabbed her arm to prop her up, the poor girl would have melted right onto the dirt path.
A few paces away, Kanao stood quietly, her lilac eyes tracking the commotion. She made a swift, pragmatic comparison in her own mind.
'Hmm. I am still young. There is plenty of time to grow.'
Having reached this logical conclusion, she dismissed the matter entirely, her unwavering gaze locking back onto Akira's retreating, laughing form.
Drawn by the loud shouts, the wounded slayers recovering in the Medical Department poked their bandaged heads out of the windows one by one, eager for some free drama.
Unaware of the actual context, the peanut gallery immediately assumed the worst. They thought Akira—the notoriously lucky bastard who dared to court multiple beautiful women—had finally crashed his boat. His harem was imploding!
Just as they were opening their mouths to cheer and shout that it served him right, the scene in the courtyard shifted abruptly.
The man and woman who had just been locked in a fierce life-or-death chase suddenly stopped. Akira turned around, proactively opening his arms wide. Makomo didn't even hesitate; she abandoned her wooden sword and dove straight into his embrace.
Her small fists lightly thumped against his chest in a rapid, rhythmic drumbeat. Rather than genuine anger, the gesture was entirely devoid of force. It looked exactly like a pouty girlfriend acting spoiled.
No, it didn't just look like it. She was absolutely, unequivocally acting spoiled.
The onlookers in the windows choked on their own spit. 'Wait, what the hell was with all that miserable screaming earlier?! Did you two seriously lure us out of our beds just to assassinate us with this sickening sweetness?!'
Completely ignoring the glaring, jealous lemons hanging out of the infirmary windows, Akira wrapped his arms around the petite girl, softly stroking her hair to comfort her.
Makomo buried her burning face deep into his chest. Her fingers clutched the fabric of his uniform as she spoke in a muffled, barely audible whisper.
"Um... Akira... do you... do you really care about..."
Her voice cracked, stuttering to a halt. Seeing the tips of her ears glowing red enough to bleed, Akira realized his silent joke had struck a little too close to her insecurities. His expression softened instantly, and he pulled her closer.
"I was just teasing you, Makomo. You don't need to take it to heart," he murmured gently, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Besides, it's you. I love you exactly the way you are. No matter what."
"Then..." Makomo tilted her head back just enough to peek up at him, her cyan eyes shimmering with a mix of embarrassment and accusation. "Then why did you... that day..."
She couldn't even finish the sentence. She shrank back down, hiding her face again. This time, even the small sliver of her exposed neck flushed a furious crimson.
Akira stiffened, a sudden, awkward cough escaping his lips as the memory of their private intimacy flashed through his mind.
"Ahem... well... actually..." He rubbed the back of his neck, his own cheeks warming slightly. "At that time, I just... severely underestimated the mechanical difficulty of the task... cough. Anyway! Makomo is perfect. Truly."
"Really?" she mumbled against his shirt.
"Really," he promised, his voice thick with obvious affection.
[Inorin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me!
Want to read ahead on our official home, or unlock 50 advanced chapters (plus an Ad-Free experience) to feed your addiction? Help keep this shameless translator alive here:
(P.S. Replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
🌐 Official Website: elysianreads[.]com
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters & Ad-Free): patreon[.]com/InorinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/InorinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]