Finally Break.
Ryuji and Rinko sat together at a small ramen restaurant. The warm steam rose from their bowls, carrying the rich, savory scent of pork broth and soy sauce. Ryuji had ordered Tonkotsu Ramen while Rinko chose Shoyu Ramen. He couldn't help but notice she had picked the same ramen as Tatsurou during their time in Yomihara. A small detail, but one that lingered in his mind.
Ryuji slurped the rich broth, the heat spreading through his chest, and took a bite of the tender pork, savoring the texture.
Earlier, they had stopped at the Electronic Repair Store. It would take two hours, there was more damage than just the screen. So they decided to kill time at the ramen shop.
Ryuji enjoyed his noodles, but his thoughts drifted. His relationship with Sakura and Kirara weighed on him. He knew their feelings were low priority compared to the other problems he faced. Bounties, his father, the Incubus King. But still, he needed support. He needed confirmation that his choices were the right ones.
During his conversation with Gin early that morning, Ryuji had hoped the Commander would offer practical advice and maybe tell him to ignore the girls and focus on the mission. Instead, Gin had told him how handsome he and his father were, and then the conversation had turned uncomfortably personal.
And yet, Ryuji couldn't shake the anger. Did Gin think he was stupid? Of course he knew he had problems. He just needed time to sort them out. And now wasn't the right time, not with Shiranui missing. He wouldn't stop, wouldn't rest, until he brought her back to Yukikaze. He couldn't afford to be selfish. Saving Shiranui, helping the Taimanin, supporting the Militia. All of that mattered more than his own feelings.
Luckily, Rinko had said exactly what he needed to hear. It made him feel better. Ryuji felt a pang of guilt for teasing her earlier, but he would make it up to her. The question was how. He couldn't think of anything beyond training with her. Maybe asking to visit her dojo and discuss sword techniques together. That seemed like a good start. But was it the right choice? Rinko was still a girl. She might be interested in more girlish things.
"Ryuji, are you alright?" Rinko asked, her voice laced with concern. She had watched his expression shift—from anger to satisfaction to deep contemplation—and it unsettled her.
The question snapped Ryuji out of his thoughts. "Huh? Oh, I'm fine. Just thinking."
"Are you sure?" Rinko pressed gently. "I heard about the bounty on you. It's my first time seeing one like that. I mean, Taimanin do get bounties sometimes, but it's incredibly rare. Even Asagi doesn't have one."
"Ugh…" Ryuji groaned, rubbing his temple. "Please don't remind me of that."
"I'm sorry." Rinko quickly changed the subject. "About this Juryu, who is he?"
"Bleh." Ryuji made an annoyed face. "Let's talk about something else. How about your clan?"
"My clan?"
"Yeah." Ryuji sipped his ice-cold cola. "Each of the clans in this village must have their own culture, right? During my travels, when I was still learning magic, I met many different clans. They all had different philosophies, ways of thinking, and ways of fighting. So I'm curious, what kind of culture does this village have? Let's start with the Akiyama clan."
And another reason, he thought, is to learn more about Rinko and Tatsurou. One can learn a lot about people through the environment they grew up in.
The question caught Rinko completely off guard. She froze, her chopsticks hovering mid-air. She had never really thought about her clan. Not deeply, not like this. No one had ever asked her to explain it before. She knew the basics, of course, but the history, the traditions, the deeper meaning behind it all… she had never bothered to learn.
"Our founder created the Ittō style," she said, her voice carrying the only note of pride she could muster. "It became the foundation of the Taimanin common Sword Style. Many Taimanin use Ittō or its variations. Even the Almighty Taimanin uses the Ittō Style."
Ryuji nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, so your clan is the founder of that Sword Style. What about Ninja Art? Is there a special Ninja Art for each clan?"
"No, except the Fuuma clan and its family branches."
"Fuuma clan?"
"Yes. They have this thing called the Evil Eye, but to me, it's just another Ninja Art. Nothing special, except a rumor of a rare ability to steal Ninja Arts."
Fuuma clan. Ryuji already knew one, Fuuma Kotaro. He would explore that later. "Okay, is there anything else? How about philosophy?"
"Of course." Rinko straightened, her tone growing more confident. "To slay evil and protect the innocent. To continue to keep Japan in peace."
Ryuji tilted his head slightly. "Isn't that every Taimanin clan's philosophy?"
"Um…" Rinko's cheeks flushed, her confidence deflating. She didn't know what to say.
Ryuji's expression softened. "It's okay. I'm guessing you don't learn much about your clan's history except the bare minimum, huh?" He gave a small shrug. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Most high school students only learn the bare minimum to pass their history tests."
Rinko's shoulders slumped. Ryuji had compared her to a lazy student, and she didn't even try to deny it.
Ryuji coughed loudly, grabbing her attention. "What about the village? How did this village form?"
Rinko sighed, hoping to regain her pride and improve Ryuji's opinion of her. "The village started to form around the year 2065, through the help of the government and some Taimanin clans. Especially the Igawa clan. Though there was some opposition from the Fuuma clan."
Again, the Fuuma clan. Ryuji's curiosity deepened. Is it because Kotaro is the protagonist that his clan has so much depth? "What is the problem with the Fuuma clan?"
"Well, according to my grandfather, the formation of Gosha Village would threaten the monopoly the Fuuma clan had on the government. They were the most powerful clan, with their eight generals, so they got the most government contracts. That left the rest of the clans poorer, lacking income. Not only that, but the Fuuma clan would absorb these poorer clans into their own."
Ryuji nodded thoughtfully. "I'm guessing they don't have the best reputation."
"And their reputation soured further with the Fuuma Rebellion, their attempt to stop the formation of Gosha Village and preserve their influence over the government. It ended when Fuuma Danjo died, and the Fuuma clan became part of Gosha Village. One of their allies, the Shinganji clan, even left the Eight Generals."
"The Shinganji clan." Ryuji's mind drifted to Kurenai. Another opportunity to learn. "What caused it?"
"Apparently, before the Fuuma Rebellion, there was an attack on the Shinganji estate by Edward Black. The heir of the clan was kidnapped, and the Fuuma clan refused to help. And when the rebellion happened, the Fuuma clan pressured the Shinganji clan to join, despite the Shinganji head's refusal.”
‘Edward Black attacked the Shinganji clan and kidnapped the heir.’ Considering how rare hybrids were, Ryuji pieced it together quickly. "So the head of the Shinganji clan went to save her daughter without the help of the Fuuma clan."
"Yes, actually, how did you know?"
"Oh, I met a Shinganji clan member named Kurenai during the mission." Ryuji's tone was casual, almost dismissive. "She told me part of her story." The last sentence was a lie. He had no desire to further explain his deduction.
Rinko nodded, sipping her green tea. "That makes sense." She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "I wonder why Edward Black would do this? He even attacked the Koukawa clan as well."
"There's no point thinking about it, Rinko." Ryuji offered a small smile. "Thank you. It was very enlightening."
Rinko's cheeks flushed, and she fidgeted slightly under his gaze. "You're welcome. Since I told you about our history, maybe you could tell me about your clan?"
"My clan, huh?" Ryuji's gaze drifted, thoughtful.
"Or not." Rinko quickly backtracked. "You did say you were born after your clan massacre." She winced, realizing she had brought up a painful topic.
"No, it's okay." Ryuji shook his head, his tone gentle. "You went out of your way to share your people's history. You deserve to hear mine." He finished his ramen, setting the bowl aside. "I'll tell you the truth, despite the massacre, my clan wasn't entirely destroyed. There are clans under the Miyatake. Not branches, exactly, but more of an alliance. My clan never grew large enough to branch out, which is… odd, honestly."
He sipped his cola, his expression thoughtful. "My clan's history is strange, and honestly, it makes me doubt its authenticity. But I'll tell you anyway." He paused, his eyes growing distant. "The founder was not from mainland Japan."
Rinko's eyes widened with surprise.
Ryuji continued. "During a storm, the sea raged through the night. By dawn, a fisherman discovered a man stranded on the beach—half-buried in sand, his clothes torn and salt-crusted. He stood tall, taller than average, with long, silky brown hair. What stood out most were his round amber eyes, gleaming like the fading embers of a sunset. His features were different than the ordinary. Nose, lips, and sun-kissed brown skin. And when he spoke, strange gibberish spilled from his mouth."
Rinko leaned forward, captivated.
"His appearance was so different from ordinary people that the villagers assumed he was a yokai. They believed the storm was an omen of his arrival. Afraid, they attacked him, but he was untouchable. He used only his hands to easily dispatch the villagers and even an old veteran warrior. So they offered him food and women. He took the food but left the women untouched."
Ryuji's tone turned lazy, unhurried.
"Thus began his journey. He traveled across the land, slaying demons and tyrants. At the end, he settled on Hokkaido island, along with his companions and his lover. Those companions became clans subordinate to the Miyatake. The Shingetsu clan, who specialized in sorcery, and the Takeshiro clan, who served as swordsmen and bodyguards."
Ryuji leaned back, his voice carrying a lazy, almost casual tone. "Of course, that's the short version. If I told you all of it, it'd take over an hour. Anyway, there are more clans—around four more—that were created after the founder's death. They had to conduct rituals to make the clan official. Something about the Miyatake giving parts of their power to them, or maybe it's just symbolism." He gave a small shrug. "I hope that satisfied your curiosity."
"It very much did. Thank you, Ryuji."
"You're welcome." Ryuji paused, his gaze thoughtful. "My clan… if I could describe them, I'd say they were ambitious and compassionate. They aren't greedy or conservative like your usual clan. If anything, they're more of a progressive good. It's strange, they don't act like any other clan I've encountered, forcing members to follow rigid traditions and all."
"I can understand the compassionate part." Rinko's voice was quiet. "There are clans who lack that." Especially her father's treatment of Tatsurou.
"Yes, but what they did is what you might call extreme." Ryuji took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wasn't sure if Rinko would believe this part, or how she would react. "During World War II, my clan rebelled against Imperial Japan by assisting resistance efforts in Korea and Manchuria."
Rinko's eyes widened.
"They sent members to teach sorcery and magic to help fight against the Japanese Sorcery Company. They also protected precious artifacts that were culturally important to the sorcery of those people."
“It was kept secret. Until one day, they found out. The government froze the clan's assets. Banks, properties, everything. They even labeled some clan members as terrorists. But in the typical world of magic, the government is, as always, useless. They bypassed the restrictions easily enough, converting most of their currency into gold and creating new identities for those who got branded as terrorists. And you can't really regulate the supernatural world, so finding a job wasn't all that hard."
“And the funniest part?" Ryuji let out a low chuckle. "They still hired my clan to deal with criminal activities. Because there's a severe lack of sorcerer enforcers in the north."
Rinko took a moment to process everything. "Wait a minute. Your clan went that far just to help people? Even people who weren't from their own country?"
Ryuji shrugged again, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Well, not always. Only during World War II. But yes, they went that far. They did other stuff too, like founding the Miyatake Academy to teach sorcery and magic, especially to those who couldn't afford it." He paused, his gaze growing distant. "Or if we go even further back… they fought against a powerful Daimyo during the Edo period."
Rinko was surprised by the revelation, but something gnawed at the back of her mind. Why hadn't anyone heard of this clan? It was strange.
"Though not all of it was good." Ryuji's voice shifted, the lightness fading. “They kept doing what they did with confidence, despite how many enemies they made. Even though they're gone, the enemies didn't go away. And now I have to deal with the problems they caused." He slowly turned his hand into a fist, his knuckles whitening. "Fuck them." His voice dropped, simmering with barely contained rage. "My mom died because of them. And now I have to fight their enemies."
He spoke as if holding himself back. But the anger bled through anyway. "And another thing. They forced me to become patriarch, even though I don't want to! Like, why me? I'm just a teenager. Couldn't they have picked anyone better and older to lead the Miyatake League?"
"Ryuji…" Rinko reached out and gently held his hand. "Please, calm down."
Ryuji blinked, the haze of his frustration clearing. He looked around, people were staring, their eyes fixed on him. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "S-sorry. I got a bit emotional there."
"It's okay." Rinko gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Let's pay, and I'll give you a tour of the village." She offered a warm smile, determined to do her best to lift his spirits.
.
.
.
Rinko took Ryuji around the village, guiding him through its winding streets and hidden corners. They visited well-known landmarks. The Community Centre, Ascetic Valley, Mikuruma Shrine, and Yoribuya, a bathhouse that Ryuji definitely etched into his memory for future reference.
After exploring most of the village's famous spots, they found themselves sitting by a nearby river, resting on a wooden bridge. The water murmured softly beneath them, catching the last golden light of the afternoon sun as it filtered through the trees.
Ryuji let out a soft chuckle. "It's been three hours exploring the village. I guess we got carried away."
"Yes, we did." Rinko smiled, her voice light. It had been unexpectedly fun—even though these sights were so familiar to her.
"I don't want this to end." The peacefulness was something he rarely had. It calmed his restless mind, and he wished it could continue a little longer.
"Don't want this to end…" Rinko's heart fluttered. She wondered if Ryuji enjoyed her company, if he wanted to stay with her longer. The thought made her cheeks warm. "Ryuji… if you ever have any problems, please don't hesitate to ask for help. We won't hesitate to help you."
"I will." Ryuji's voice was quiet. "But I'd prefer not to drag my friends into my problems."
They sat in comfortable silence, the river murmuring beneath them. But curiosity crept into Rinko's mind. "Ryuji… you said you were a patriarch for your clan?"
"Yeah. But only for a moment." His jaw tightened. "And those moments were the most intense, stressful parts of my life."
Rinko immediately regretted asking. His tone had shifted, the peacefulness draining away. Even becoming a patriarch hadn't given him joy. Now that she thought about it, had he ever talked about a happy part of his past?
"It was fine at first." Ryuji's voice went flat. "They showed me the ropes, advised me on what to do. Then they started tutoring me, which wasn't really bad. Then came the meeting with the Yakuza in Sapporo." His hands curled into fists. "That's where it all went to shit. I had to negotiate trade deals. Create proper herbal farms for potions by talking with a group of druids. Set up a proper monster hunter guild. Dealing with the tension between the Militia and the League."
His voice rose, cracking with frustration. "Argh! Work, work, and more work! I'm a teenager! Why do you put so much on me?!" He took a breath, barely containing himself. "The Militia treats me better because they know I'm a kid. And you wonder why I prefer working with 'commoners'?" The last word came out in a mocking tone, as if mimicking someone else's words.
"Ryuji…" Rinko wrapped her arms around his shoulder. "I'm sorry. Let's just enjoy this peacefulness."
Ryuji stiffened at the sudden embrace, then slowly relaxed. "It's okay. You were just curious."
"It's just…" Rinko hesitated, her voice growing quieter. "I want your opinion on something. The Akiyama clan heir was supposed to be Tatsurou. But he just didn't meet the expectations of the elders, and our father, the head of the clan. They stopped training him and focused more on me. Now they're even discussing making me the heir. It's just… unfair."
"Because they're comparing his progress to yours?" Ryuji's voice softened. "They're expecting more from Tatsurou."
"Yes." Rinko's gaze dropped. "And I can't help but feel like it's my fault."
"No." Ryuji shook his head firmly. "Don't blame yourself for being born talented. If you want to blame someone, blame your asshole dad." He winced. "Uh… ignore the asshole part."
A soft giggle escaped Rinko's lips. She felt herself growing softer toward him. "I've never met anyone who called my father an asshole. Even Yukikaze wouldn't go that far."
Ryuji glanced at her. Her smile, her eyes. He couldn't help but notice her more. Her scent, faint and floral. The curve of her lips. He caught himself imagining, just for a moment, what it would be like to—
"..." His eyes went wide. ‘What the hell am I thinking?!’
"AAAAHHHH!" He launched himself straight into the river with a spectacular splash.
"Ryuji!" Rinko shot to her feet, alarmed by his sudden outburst.
Ryuji stood up in waist-deep water, soaked and dripping. Without hesitation, he punched himself in the face. "Begone! Worldly desires!"
Rinko stared, utterly confused, as he punched his right cheek.
"Begone! Worldly desires!"
Then he left.
"Begone! Worldly desires!"
He continued the mantra, each punch punctuated by the same desperate cry.
A full long minute passed. Finally, Ryuji stopped and waded out of the river, dripping wet. "Anyway." He wrung out his shirt. "Does Tatsurou actually want to be the clan head of the Akiyama?"
"W-Wha— huh?" Rinko blinked, startled by the sudden shift. "Um… yes, he does."
"Are you sure?" Ryuji squeezed water from his sleeve. "Don't you think he might just be doing it to make his dad proud, or something?"
"I… well, I haven't really thought about it."
Ryuji paused, his gaze thoughtful. "Well, I'm biased here. I don't have good experience being a clan leader. So, I'd suggest you become the next head."
"A-Are you sure?"
"I don't know." He shrugged, water still dripping from his hair. "It entirely depends on Tatsurou and your father. But to me, if you become clan head, Tatsurou wouldn't be burdened by that responsibility. With your talent, it would come easier to you. But for Tatsurou… he might always feel like he can't live up to people's expectations, even if he becomes the next clan head. Especially since they'll keep comparing him to you."
"To make it short, if you become the next clan head, you essentially free Tatsurou from that responsibility. Free from that burden."
"I see…" Rinko fell silent, contemplating his words. She supported her little brother's efforts, she always had. But some part of her wondered if it would be better for him to stop. To let her carry the weight instead.
But…
"I will continue to support Tatsurou." Rinko spoke with resolution. "Even if the entire clan is against him. I will keep doing it."
Ryuji simply smiled, a soft, knowing look in his eyes. "I see. Then I'll support him too. Even if it's foolish."
"Eh?"
Ryuji closed his eyes, and a wave of nostalgia washed over him. "A man who devotes everything to an impossible goal—even if he fails—at least he gets to live beautifully." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "And those who watch from the sidelines, giving nothing but mockery and ridicule?" A faint smirk crossed his face. "They're just part of life irritations. Like stepping in dogshit."
Ryuji…" Rinko had never met a man who spoke like that. Especially not one who would compare her father and the other clan elders to something as vulgar as dogshit. "Thank you. I can see clearly now." She met his gaze, her voice steady. "I'll do everything to make Tatsurou a great heir. And he will be, with your help."
"You're welcome." Ryuji gave her a warm smile, the kind that reached his eyes. "I'm glad I could help." He stretched, his tone light. "Well, I'm going home now. It was fun spending time with you. Just gotta dry my clothes first." He channeled his flame, a soft warmth spreading through his damp shirt, steam rising gently into the evening air.
Then something inside him snapped.
"Kuh!" His body seized. His limbs refused to obey. His vision sees the world as blurry images. Then Ryuji collapsed, gasping for air, his chest heaving.
"Ryuji!" Rinko dropped to her knees beside him, her hands pressing against his chest. His skin burned beneath her palms. "Is this a fever?"
She didn't know what had caused this. She wanted to believe it was just a fever, but his sudden collapse, the way his body had locked up… Rinko shook her head sharply, forcing herself to focus.
"Ryuji, I'm going to teleport you to my estate. Please, just bear with me."
She held Ryuji's hand to reassure him, her Taima particles spreading around both of them. In a flash of light, they both vanished.
.
.
.
They were both in Rinko's bedroom. Ryuji lay on a futon, a fever patch pressed to his forehead, dressed in a borrowed komon. Rinko sat beside him, watching over him, wearing a komon of her own.
She had to sneak Ryuji into the estate. Her father didn't allow visitors unless they had his permission, one of the many reasons Rinko, Tatsurou, and Yukikaze preferred spending time at the Mizuki manor over the Akiyama estate.
Sneaking in had been easy, she simply teleported straight into her room. The hard part came after. Changing his clothes.
Rinko had slowly peeled away his damp shirt, her fingers brushing against the hard ridges of muscle and the rough, uneven lines of scars beneath. She paused, tracing one of them with her eyes. How many fights had he survived? How many close calls had left their marks on him?
Then came his pants.
And then, his underwear.
Her face burned. Why, of all days, had Ryuji jumped into the river? Had she done something wrong? In all honesty, she truly didn't know.
She squeezed her eyes shut, and in one quick, decisive motion, pulled away his underwear. Then, keeping her gaze carefully averted from his manhood, she dried his body with a towel as quickly as she could.
Once that was done, she dressed him in the komon and laid him gently on her futon.
Now, she simply watched over him. Then she noticed a twitch beneath his eyelids.
"R-Rinko?" Ryuji's eyes fluttered open, red-rimmed and struggling to focus. "W-where am I? What happened to me? My eyes… Why does it hurt so much?"
"You have a fever, Ryuji."
"A… fever…" He blinked, genuinely confused. "I haven't had a fever since I was six. I must've been poisoned or something." He tried to sit up, but his body protested. Muscles aching and limbs becoming unresponsive.
"Ryuji, I know a fever when I see one." Rinko gently pressed him back down. "You need rest."
"Fine." Ryuji relented, sinking into the futon. But something still felt wrong. "Rinko… why didn't you take me to the Mizuki manor? Or better yet, a hospital or clinic?"
Rinko froze. She hadn't even thought of it. Her mouth opened, but no words came.
"No." Ryuji's voice was hoarse, but gentle. "Don't answer. I understand." He coughed, his throat dry. "And I'm sorry for making you worry so much about me."
Rinko handed him a bottle of water. "Here."
"Thanks." Ryuji took it, twisted off the cap, and drank greedily.
"Ryuji, slow down. You're going to—"
Gh!" He choked, sputtering water everywhere. "Ah, damn it!" He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Is this what normal people feel like when they have a fever? It's horrible."
"It's surprising you haven't had a fever until you forgot what it feels like."
"Yeah, I've always found it weird too." Ryuji let out a weak chuckle. "Even people around me question why. But I don't think about it too much."
"Maybe it's the stress that finally got to you." Rinko offered her reasoning. "You were under so much pressure that your body just couldn't take it anymore."
"Oh." Ryuji blinked. "So I'm like an overworked employee at a black company, working until they drop dead?"
"Y-yes." A small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips. ‘Is this black company compared to Gosha HQ and Asagi?’ "Something like that."
"Okay, then. I guess I just have to sleep, right?"
"Yes. You need plenty of rest."
"How long does this take?"
"Until tomorrow."
"Ugh…" Ryuji groaned. "That's too long."
"That's just how it is."
"So how am I supposed to… fall… asleep…" His voice trailed off as his eyelids grew heavy. He tried to fight it, but his body had already surrendered. His eyes closed, and within moments, he was asleep.
Rinko let out a quiet sigh. Another one of Ryuji's strange antics. But this time… it was kind of cute. To pass the time, she pulled out her textbooks and began working on her homework, occasionally glancing over to make sure he was still breathing.
A knock at the door broke her focus.
Rinko shot to her feet, but before she could reach it, the door swung open. Her mother stood in the doorway.
"Rinko? You've been in your room for a long time. You haven't been to the dojo or out with your friends. Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing, Mother." Rinko's voice was tight. "I just returned from spending time with a friend. Now, I’m resting."
Her mother's eyes narrowed. "Are you hiding something?"
"N-no…" Rinko's voice wavered.
"I see. Very well, then." The mother turned to leave. "Sorry to disturb you."
Then a groan cut through the silence.
"Ughhhh… What is that noise?" Ryuji's voice was thick with sleep, his eyes still half-lidded. He tried to focus, his vision still blurry. "Rinko… Is that your sister?"
"R-Ryuji—!" Rinko's voice shot up.
"S-sister?" The mother's stern expression cracked. A faint blush crept across her cheeks. "Oh, I'm not that young… Wait a minute." Her eyes snapped to Rinko, sharp and accusing. "Rinko, who is that man?!"
"M-mother, he is…" Rinko gulped and decided to be honest. "A friend I was spending time with this morning. He's suffering terribly from a fever, and I'm taking care of him."
"Rinko, you know how your father feels about people entering this estate without permission." Her mother's voice was firm, laced with worry.
"I know…"
"But…" A warm smile softened her mother's features. "I understand. I'll keep quiet about this."
"Really?"
"Really. And if you need help, just ask your mother." She paused at the door, glancing back with a knowing look. "Lock the door next time, alright?"
"I will, Mother." Rinko can’t help but feel thankful that her mother is understanding. She closed the door properly locked and continued her duty.
.
.
.
The sun was beginning to set, casting long golden shadows across the room. Rinko sat beside Ryuji, a bowl of warm porridge in her hands, trying to coax him into eating. It had proven… difficult.
"I'm not hungry." Ryuji puffed out his cheeks and spoke in a childish whine. "I want McDonald's! They make good porridge, with chicken and other stuff. And I want chicken nuggets."
The fever had worsened, turning his brain to mush. While a fever could make anyone act drunk or loopy, this was something else entirely.
"Ryuji, come on. Eat the porridge. If you want to get better, you need to eat."
"I'm fine!" With surprising speed, he pulled the blanket over his head and disappeared from view.
Rinko stared at the lump of blankets, completely at a loss. "W-what do you want, then? Some candy? Toys?" She had officially given up treating him like an adult. She was now negotiating with a child.
"What I want…" His head poked out from under the blanket. "I want a kiss."
Rinko sighed, then leaned in and pressed a quick peck to his cheek.
"Hehe…" Ryuji giggled, a goofy smile spreading across his face. He sat upright, suddenly obedient.
"Alright, here. Open your mouth." Rinko hovered the spoonful of porridge in front of him.
"Aaahh…" Ryuji opened wide, and she gently slipped the spoon into his mouth.
It was strange. Ryuji in this state was just… cute. Really cute. ‘Is this what people call gap moe?’
Once all the porridge was finished, Rinko gently settled Ryuji back into sleep. Then she pulled out her phone, intending to check on Yukikaze and Tatsurou. She decided a video call would be nice.
She dialed and hit the video call button. The screen flickered, then lit up with Tatsurou's face.
"Hey, sis. How's it going?"
Then Yukikaze appeared beside him, pressing in close. "Hello, Rinko-senpai. I hope Ryuji hasn't given you any trouble."
"Doing fine." Rinko let out a tired sigh. "Although, a bit tiresome."
"What's wrong?" Tatsurou's brow furrowed.
"It's just… Ryuji is suffering from a terrible fever, and I'm taking care of him."
"Oh, are you at my house?" Yukikaze asked.
"No. I'm at the Akiyama estate."
Tatsurou blinked. "Sis, how did you get Father's permission?"
"I didn't. I had to sneak him in." Rinko sighed, rubbing her temples. "Taking care of him is much tougher than I thought it would be."
"How hard can it be to take care of someone with a fever?" Yukikaze asked, genuinely puzzled.
Before Rinko could answer, a hand shot out and snatched the phone from her grip.
"Hello~ guys…" Ryuji's voice was slurred, his eyes half-lidded. "How's your dateeeee?"
"Ryuji-senpai?" Tatsurou blinked, starting to understand what his sister had meant. "Are you alright?"
"Me? Yeah, I'm alright." Ryuji grinned, swaying slightly. "Thanks to your sister."
“Are you sure?" Yukikaze leaned closer to the screen, her eyes narrowing. "Your face and eyes are really red."
"Ooh, thanks for worrying, but I'm fine." Ryuji waved a dismissive hand. "Your date's about to end, right? Tatsurou, you don't mind staying at the Mizuki manor with Yukikaze?"
"W-what?!" Tatsurou's face turned crimson.
"Stupid idiot, go back to sleep already!" Yukikaze's voice was sharp, but her cheeks were equally red.
"But Yuki…" Ryuji's tone softened, almost doting. "I'm worried about you. It's going to be lonely living alone in that manor, since I won't be there."
"Don't call me Yuki!" Yukikaze snapped back. "And I'm… fine living alone…" She hesitated, her voice faltering. Part of her really wanted Tatsurou to stay.
Tatsurou noticed. He decided to push. "Are you sure? I don't mind keeping you company. Just for one night."
"Well… if you insist." Yukikaze tried to sound smug, but excitement leaked through her words. "Sure."
"Good." Ryuji grinned, his fever-bright eyes glinting. "That's good. Don't forget to have sex."
"Eh?" The three of them froze.
"Both of you, have sex. And if you don't…" Ryuji wrapped an arm around Rinko's shoulder, pulling her close. "I'll bang Rinko."
"Eeeehhhh?!"
"R-Ryuji!" Rinko's face burned.
"Senpai! I-I don't understand?!" Tatsurou sputtered.
"Isn't it obvious?" Ryuji's voice dropped, suddenly serious. "I'm taking your sister's purity hostage. So if both of you don't fuck—"
Rinko's palm connected with the back of his skull. He fell unconscious on the floor.
"I'll call you later."
"Y-yeah, goodbye, sis." Tatsurou waved.
"Goodbye, Rinko-senpai." Yukikaze did the same.
The call ended. Rinko let out a long breath, then carefully adjusted Ryuji on the futon, tucking the blanket around him properly. She sighed, but a small smile appeared on her lips. Despite the chaos, she was thankful. He had pushed Tatsurou and Yukikaze's relationship even further.
.
.
.
Night fell, and Rinko had set up a futon of her own, placing it at a careful distance to avoid catching whatever Ryuji had. She shut off the light and settled in to sleep.
"Rinko… are you there?"
His voice was different. More clearer and normal. She turned toward him in the darkness. "I'm here."
"I'm weak, aren't I?"
"Weak?"
"I couldn't handle this fever." His voice cracked. "I couldn't handle the aphrodisiac. I couldn't handle the alcohol. And I couldn't handle the girls' feelings." A long, shuddering breath. "I'm weak."
"Ryuji, you're not weak."
"Yes, I am." Tears slipped down his cheeks. "I'm just pretending to be strong. All of this—" His voice broke. "All of it is just an act. An act… Just an act." He wiped at his face, but the tears kept coming. "I'm afraid. I want to go home."
Rinko reached out and gently held his hand. It was the only comfort she could offer. "You will."
"No." His voice was small, hollow. "I'm not from this world, or this time."
Rinko's eyes went wide, the words sinking in like stones.
"That's why… it would be impossible to go back home." His eyelids slowly closed. "Probably forever…"
Slowly, he drifted into sleep, leaving Rinko alone with the weight of his confession. She sat there in the silence, his hand still warm in hers. Not knowing what to make of it, she told herself it was just another of his fevered moments. But a possibility—that what he said could be true—lingered in her mind.