Journey to Godhood Begins in Frieren

"My husband—what are you making?"

"Breakfast."

"I've never seen it before."

"You've never even seen dumpling?" Shichen looked at Mukuro in surprise.

It was breakfast time, and Shichen hadn't expected Mukuro to be the first one up.

But considering how clingy she'd been yesterday, it made sense.

Ever since he brought Mukuro down to Earth, she'd been completely different from her earlier coldness—extra affectionate, practically unwilling to let him out of her sight.

With her emotions freshly restored, she'd basically taken Shichen's declaration as a confession, accepted it on the spot, and in her mind they were already as good as an engaged couple.

She was clingy to an extreme, which naturally made Tohka and the others unhappy—but at the same time, they also wanted to take care of the newcomer and help her fit in.

"Dumplings… so this is it? I've heard of it." Mukuro stepped up beside him and studied the buns he'd wrapped.

Lately, Shichen had been into making buns. Real ingredients, handmade, cooked with sacred flame—there was no way they could taste bad.

And his fillings were downright extravagant: shrimp, crab, beef… the works.

Steamed with sacred flame, the buns came out soft and springy, with juicy filling that made it hard to stop at just one.

Even Tohka couldn't resist—and even though she tried to act composed, the others weren't much better.

(Shichen had learned the hard way that whenever he made buns, someone would inevitably end up with a happily rounded belly.)

"Then you can look forward to it," Shichen said with a smile. "It's really good."

Mukuro was wearing a pale-yellow nightdress. Even with the loose fabric, you could still tell her silhouette was… hard to miss.

More striking than anything, though, was her dazzling golden hair—so long it nearly brushed the floor—plus the two bun-like knots she still had tied up, like she'd gone to sleep without bothering to undo her hair.

"Since my husband made them by hand, I'm looking forward to it," Mukuro said, naturally hooking onto his arm.

Shichen raised an eyebrow.

Even after yesterday, that kind of closeness still caught him off guard.

Mukuro's "youthful face, mature figure" vibe was practically her signature.

"You're holding on too tight," Shichen warned. "I can't wrap buns like this."

"What does it matter? This is proof of our love," Mukuro said, completely unbothered.

"…Then do you still want dumplings or not?"

"…That…"

"There's plenty of time," Shichen said gently, looking at her. "We'll be together for a long time. You don't have to rush everything."

"A long time… is that truly what you mean?" Mukuro asked quietly.

"I'm not lying." Shichen nodded, smiling.

"I understand." Mukuro smiled softly and finally let him go.

No more clingy pressure—meaning he could actually work again, which was a win.

Shichen went back to wrapping buns.

Mukuro didn't leave. She just stood beside him, watching him work.

Since it felt too quiet, Shichen started a conversation while his hands kept moving. "Mukuro, you seemed really hung up on the 'always together' part just now. Did something come back to you?"

"…No. But my heart feels… strange." Mukuro pressed a hand to her chest and shook her head.

"Yeah?" Shichen soothed, keeping his tone light. "Don't worry about it. Even if you don't remember things yet, that's fine. We can make new memories from scratch."

Mukuro had sealed away her past, so she didn't even know why she'd locked her feelings and drifted alone in space in the first place.

Shichen did know, but he didn't want to push her into it too fast—forcing those memories back could destabilize her.

Better to let her settle into daily life first.

"My husband… you won't let me unseal my memories right away?" Mukuro asked, puzzled.

"Not yet." Shichen smiled. "We finally got close. I don't want outside reasons messing with that. Let's spend more time together first."

"So my husband is selfish~" Mukuro laughed—not accusing him, just genuinely amused and happy.

"If my husband likes me that much, then I'll stay with you more."

As she spoke, she hugged his arm again—this time even tighter.

"…You're hugging again?"

"This is my reply to your love," Mukuro said with a bright, teasing smile.

"I seriously can't wrap buns now."

"Then like this~" Mukuro let go, moved behind him, and wrapped both arms around his waist instead.

That was… even more distracting.

Shichen let out a helpless laugh. "Fine. Do what you want."

Weirdly, even with Mukuro "interfering," Shichen's pace got faster. He finished wrapping everything, got the steamer going, and soon the aroma spread through the kitchen and drifted into the living room.

"My husband… it smells wonderful." Mukuro hugged him from behind and breathed in deeply.

"Right? When they're done, eat as much as you want."

"I'm not a foodie," Mukuro huffed, pretending to be offended.

"Oooh, that smells amazing!" A lively voice bounced into the kitchen, and a purple-haired figure ran in.

"Tohka, morning."

"Morning, Shichen! It smells so good!"

"You wake up and immediately think about eating, huh?" Shichen sighed.

"Hehe—because your food smells too good… Morning, Mukuro."

"Hm. Good morning." Mukuro nodded.

"…Why are you hugging Shichen first thing in the morning?" Tohka frowned the moment she saw them.

"Is there an issue? My husband and I are deeply in love. This is simply normal bonding," Mukuro said calmly.

"Yeah, but you can't just—" Tohka started, then got stuck.

Nia had warned them: Mukuro got jealous easily and had a strong possessive streak—don't provoke her too hard.

Tohka didn't like it at all, but she also wanted Mukuro to fit in smoothly, so she tried to swallow it.

"Is something wrong, Tohka?" Mukuro tilted her head.

"N-No…"

"No?"

"I can't take it!" Tohka blurted—and lunged forward, hugging Shichen from the front.

Now Shichen was sandwiched between them.

A warm, sweet scent. Two different kinds of closeness. Two people tugging on him from both sides…

He wasn't suffering in the slightest.

"No guy is going to complain about this," Shichen thought, very wisely keeping his mouth shut.

"What are you doing? Don't hug my husband!" Mukuro tightened her hold around Shichen's waist and pulled back.

"Shichen isn't yours!" Tohka hugged tighter and pulled the other way.

Their strength was weirdly even. Shichen didn't budge—he just stood there, caught in a stalemate.

"My husband is my husband!"

"No, he isn't!"

"He is!"

"He isn't!"

Shichen quietly swayed in place and didn't stop them.

It was, objectively, an extremely blessed problem.

And in the middle of all that arguing, the noise finally woke the others.

"Doing what, exactly, this early in the morning?" Sawa stumbled out of Shichen's room, white hair loose, yawning.

Right behind her came Origami, also sleepy-eyed—but with cheeks that were suspiciously pink.

Last night, those two had been with Shichen.

How, exactly, they'd "kept him company" didn't need to be spelled out. The only honest summary was: they'd had a very… intense night.

Shichen hadn't actually slept—he'd gone straight from that to making breakfast.

And somehow, despite staying up all night, he still looked completely fine.

"Shichen…" Origami's eyes sharpened the moment she fully processed the situation, and she walked over to claim one of his arms.

Not quite the same "presence" as Mukuro, but definitely not small enough to be ignored either—Shichen wasn't picky.

"Origami? You too?" Tohka shot her a glare.

"You can, so why can't I?" Origami replied evenly.

"This is between me and Mukuro!"

"Correct. Please do not disturb my husband and me," Mukuro added.

"No. Shichen is also mine," Origami said, refusing to yield.

"Shichen isn't—wait." Tohka sniffed, then narrowed her eyes at Origami. "Why does your breath smell… weird? Like seafood. Like squid."

"…" Origami immediately went silent.

Sawa, hearing that, breathed into her hand and smelled her own breath too, then sighed.

Yeah. That was obvious.

"…Alright," Sawa muttered. "I'm not watching this. I'm brushing my teeth."