Chapter 125: Majimabakunai
Kouya walked alone into the backyard, his footsteps echoing faintly against the stone path.
The night had deepened without him realizing. The last traces of daylight were long gone, swallowed by the serene glow of a full moon that hung like a pale lantern in the sky. Moonlight spilled across the stone steps in soft waves, outlining the shapes of trees and stones with silver edges.
A gentle fog rose from the hot spring, coiling and drifting lazily into the cool night air. The surface shimmered faintly, ripples forming where droplets of condensed mist fell from the bamboo leaves above.
The spring wasn't large—about the size of a small pool—but the setting was exquisite. Smooth pebbles lined the edge, and carved stone lanterns in the corners emitted a dim, flickering glow, like fireflies caught in eternal dance. The faint sound of running water mingled with the rustle of leaves, creating a soothing, natural rhythm.
A breeze whispered through the bamboo grove, carrying the scent of grass, wet stone, and faint traces of floral sweetness. A few fragile blossoms trembled gently, scattering petals onto the surface of the spring, where they floated like fragments of moonlight.
It was a sight that somehow outshone even the beauty of daylight.
After rinsing off nearby, Kouya slowly sank into the water. The warmth spread across his skin instantly, loosening every tense muscle. The combination of steam, moonlight, and solitude wrapped around him like a dream.
He closed his eyes, exhaling softly, and let his mind drift. For the first time that day, the world felt still.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed when the peace was broken by the faint sound of footsteps—pata, pata—quick, light, and oddly rhythmic.
The sound carried sharply in the night air.
Kouya opened his eyes, the mist swirling slightly as he looked toward the source.
Strange. He'd already told everyone where he was going. Who would come out here at this hour?
A small silhouette appeared through the haze, her pace steady and her face calm. As she stepped closer, the mist parted, revealing a petite girl with soft blue eyes and an unreadable expression.
The blue-eyed dragon girl—Kanna.
Kouya blinked. Of all people… "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and resignation.
Even if Tohru had completely warped her sense of what was proper, shouldn't Kanna at least know the basic difference between men and women?
She just stared. "Stare—"
"Hey! How long are you going to keep looking?" Kouya protested, shifting slightly under the water.
Sure, her eyesight could pierce fog and shadow like a dragon's—but still, a little modesty wouldn't hurt! And what was with that expression? Was that disgust on her face?
Seriously, this wasn't how the story was supposed to go! Anyone else walking in, fine—but her?
Kanna blinked once. "Tohru-sama told me to call her at this time."
Kouya froze for a second, then remembered.
Right… Tohru had mentioned it at the subway station that morning. But with how busy things had been, even Vigne must've forgotten to remind him.
"Got it," he sighed. "Wait here. I'll grab my phone."
Kanna nodded obediently, stepping aside with her usual blank calm.
Kouya got up, dried off, threw on a shirt, and returned with his phone. He dialed, handed it to her, and leaned against the wall while she spoke.
"Tohru-sama."
"Ah, Kanna!" Tohru's voice burst through the speaker—bright, energetic, unmistakably cheerful. Kouya could practically see her wagging her tail. "Did you have fun today?"
"Fun," Kanna replied simply. "Ate a lot of good food. Met a new girl. And then…"
Tohru paused, quickly catching the hesitation. "Hmm… someone said something weird, and you didn't know how to respond politely, right?"
Kanna nodded, even though the dragon maid couldn't see her. "Mm."
"I see, I see." Tohru's voice turned thoughtful. "You know, when I came home this afternoon, I saw a guy talking to his friend on the phone. No matter what the other person said, he just kept saying 'Majimabakunai!'—and they were both laughing so much!"
She said it like she was revealing ancient wisdom.
"So, Kanna! When you don't know what to say, just say 'Majimabakunai!' The conversation will stay smooth no matter what!"
Kouya nearly choked. Shut up!
How socially awkward do you have to be to think 'That's amazing' fixes every silence?!
How far gone is your sense of common sense?!
Kanna nodded seriously. "Majimabakunai."
...
When they returned to the villa, the faint glow from the kitchen spilled across the hallway.
Little Chiba Hinata ran over, holding a small plate. "Kanna-chan, look! I made apple pudding myself!"
Kanna blinked, her face as blank as ever. She cupped her cheeks and said softly, "Oh. Majimabakunai."
"Eh? Thanks for the compliment!" Hinata beamed, thrilled by the response. She ran to the living room and came back with two plush toys. "Kanna-chan, these are Meruru dolls I caught earlier! One's for you!"
Kanna: "Majimabakunai."
Kouya twitched, half in amusement and half in despair. That phrase was starting to sound like some kind of verbal spell. Every time she said it, the air around her seemed to shift.
Shaking his head, he walked into the kitchen.
The kitchen was lively. Steam filled the air, and the smell of cooking drifted through every corner. Everyone was busy with something—washing vegetables, chopping meat, stirring pots. Knives clacked rhythmically on cutting boards, blending with laughter and the faint crackle of oil.
Satania suddenly raised her hand, her twin tails bouncing. "Vigne, I'm making omelet rice!"
Vigne, wearing an adorable bear-pattern apron, didn't even glance up as she sliced vegetables with calm precision. "That's fine, but wait until the rest of the food's done."
"Eh? Why?!"
Gabriel yawned, leaning against the counter. "Because no one wants to spend the night in the hospital after eating your omelet rice."
Satania puffed her cheeks. "Rude!"
The smell of food grew richer by the minute. Steak sizzled on the grill, ginger pork simmered beside a pot of mushroom stew, and salmon sashimi glistened under soft light. Grilled saury, shrimp takoyaki, sea urchin rice bowls, kelp tofu soup—the table was becoming a feast.
"Oh, and I learned a new dish recently—spicy shredded potatoes," Vigne said proudly. "It's delicious."
To keep picky eaters like Rikka healthy, she'd been practicing new recipes nonstop. From stir-fried pepper pork to this new spicy dish, her dedication was impressive.
After all, a good meal balanced flavors and nutrition—meat alone made you sluggish, and only vegetables left you weak.
She moved quickly, slicing potatoes into perfect thin strips, soaking them in water before tossing them into hot oil. The sizzle was sharp and satisfying. Chopped scallions and dried chilies followed, releasing a wave of fragrance that filled the room. A sprinkle of salt, a touch of pepper, a drizzle of vinegar—and within minutes, the dish gleamed golden in the wok.
Rikka leaned forward, sniffing cautiously. "It smells... amazing. And looks nice. But... isn't that too much chili? Are you sure humans can eat it?"
Vigne grinned. "You'll find out soon."
Meanwhile, the shrine maiden worked on Japanese-style mapo tofu, a dish beloved in Japan for its soft texture and mild spice. Instead of soybean tofu, she used silky egg tofu, carefully simmering it so it wouldn't fall apart. The fragrance was gentle yet mouthwatering.
By the time the miso soup was ready, nearly an hour had passed. The kitchen table looked like something from a restaurant magazine.
As for Gabriel and Satania's dark cuisine contest… that could wait until tomorrow.
"So much food!" Hinata exclaimed.
Kanna rested her chin on her hands, eyes glimmering. "Majimabakunai."
The room fell silent for half a second.
That phrase had become so contagious it was terrifying. Everyone froze, trying not to laugh.
After washing up, they all gathered around the dining table.
"Itadakimasu!" they said together.
There were too many people to use small dishes, so they opted for shared plates with communal chopsticks.
Raphiel took a bite of grilled saury and smiled. "Delicious!"
Vigne beamed. "A drop of lemon makes all the difference. Little tricks like that matter."
Satania grabbed a piece next, chewing thoughtfully. "Weird..."
"What's wrong? Not good?" Vigne asked.
"No, it's good! It just reminded me of a fish joke I read recently."
Everyone froze. Satania grinned. "So a bull and a cow get married, but they divorce after a year. Then the cow marries an elephant, divorces again, and remarries the bull. The next day, the bull smokes on the porch, singing, 'I'm like a fish in your lotus pond.'"
Satania pouted. "See? What's that got to do with fish?!"
Silence. Deafening silence.
Then, like a lightning strike, Kanna raised her hand. "Majimabakunai."
Everyone: "..."
Shut up!
That's basically a dirty joke!
Why would you say that with a straight face?!
"Satania, please stop," Vigne groaned, face red. "We're eating!"
"What? I'm just saying!" Satania protested, waving her chopsticks. "Marriage is supposed to be happy! Why sing something so weird afterward?"
"Tch. Idiot," Gabriel muttered.
"You know why then?" Satania challenged.
Gabriel froze. There was no way she'd explain that meaning.
She looked away. "Eat before it gets cold."
...
After dinner came dessert.
Thankfully, the villa had a dessert fridge stocked with sweets. No one had to lift a finger.
Gabriel and Raphiel nibbled on éclairs while the shrine maiden brewed fragrant tea for Kouya and Hinata. The soft clinking of cups filled the quiet air.
It was peaceful. Cozy. The kind of silence that made the heart feel full.
Then Raphiel smirked. "Hey, it's still early. Why don't we play something?"
Satania immediately perked up. "What game?!"
"Truth or Dare, maybe?"
Vigne paled instantly. "No way. Absolutely not."
That game was a minefield—panty colors, cup sizes, crushes. No chance.
"Cards, then?" Raphiel tried. "Daifugō?"
Gabriel huffed. "Boring. Pass."
"Hmm…" Raphiel's smile turned sly as she reached behind her back and pulled out a small wooden box.
Her eyes gleamed mischievously. "Then there's only one choice left… the King's Game~"