The wedding night passed in a whirlwind of sharing secrets and adapting to a strange environment.
Thus, the second night was essentially the real first night.
Mitsuri, neatly dressed in a yukata, sat properly on the futon waiting for Akira. Her face was flushed red with the tension and excitement of facing their first night as husband and wife, instead of her usual cheerfulness.
When Akira finished his work and entered the room, Mitsuri looked up at him as if having made a resolution.
"Um, Akira-san. Tonight... we become a real couple, right?"
Akira paused at her direct question. He slowly approached and sat facing her.
"Mitsuri. As I said yesterday, I am an oni. I'm different from ordinary people. Are you truly okay with accepting me?"
Akira reminded her of his identity once more. His body was different from a human's.
"Yes! I'm fine! I don't care if Akira-san is an oni or a demon king. Because I love Akira-san!"
Mitsuri's eyes were unwavering. At her pure and intense love confession, Akira felt a corner of his heart warm.
But simultaneously, another dilemma tormented him. He thought he should calm this situation, even if it meant shattering some of her illusions.
"Actually, what I'm worried about isn't just that."
Akira hesitated as he spoke.
"I... am not as young as you think. My body stopped in my late teens, but my actual age is nearing forty. Much older than you."
Akira tried to dampen her enthusiasm using his age as an excuse.
A twenty-plus year age gap. By any measure, it was a disadvantage for her.
But Mitsuri's eyes went wide, then she burst into a bright smile.
"Huh? Really? Wow! Amazing! Akira-san, you have an incredible baby face!"
"A baby face, that's not the problem..."
"It's fine! What does age matter in love? I like Akira-san whether you're ten or a hundred! Actually, being older makes you more reliable and cooler!"
Mitsuri clung to Akira's arm and acted cute. Akira sighed. Normal excuses didn't work on this carefree new bride. He brought out his last resort.
"And one more thing. I'm not as clean a man as you think. As you know, my relationships with women... are quite promiscuous. As your first experience partner, isn't that..."
A confession any ordinary woman would detest. But Mitsuri clapped her hands as if even happier.
"It's fine! Actually, that's even better!"
"...Huh?"
"Because Akira-san has lots of experience, you'll guide me more gently and skillfully, right? I might be clumsy since it's my first time... but I'll trust only Akira-san!"
Akira was at a loss for words. Her positive way of thinking was unparalleled.
Akira finally asked, worried about her body.
"Then are you really okay, Mitsuri? Being your first time is something very important for a woman, and can also be frightening. It might hurt or be scary."
But Mitsuri puffed out her chest and answered confidently.
"I'm fine! I learned really~ well from my mother!"
"...Learned? What do you mean?"
"That, that! The techniques as a woman to please your husband!"
Mitsuri covered her cheeks with both hands as if embarrassed, yet her eyes burned with a strange sense of mission.
"My marriage talks kept coming in and getting canceled repeatedly, right? So my mother told me. 'Mitsuri, you're strong and have unusual hair color, so to be loved by your husband, you must try twice as hard as others and serve him well at night'! So my studies are perfect!"
The moment Akira heard that, he held his forehead. A similar woman came to mind.
'The same case as Kiyohime.'
A girl from the Heian era who, despite being only twelve, learned all sorts of techniques under the guise of bride training for her future husband and attempted a nighttime visit.
'Back then it was the Heian era, so fine... but now is the civilized Meiji era... Why does this strange tradition continue without disappearing?'
Akira felt dizzy at the fact that women's passion to devour (?) men remained unchanged even as eras changed.
As Akira continued making difficult expressions and fumbling to show refusal, Mitsuri's expression rapidly darkened.
Like a fully bloomed cherry blossom withering, her shoulders slumped.
"So, you do dislike it?"
"Huh?"
"Because my hair color is weird, and I eat a lot. I have no charm, so you're making excuses, right? Actually, you don't want to hold a woman like me, right?"
Tears welled up in Mitsuri's eyes. Her self-esteem was lower than one might think due to the contempt she'd endured for years.
She interpreted Akira's considerate refusal as being due to her own lack of charm.
Flustered, Akira waved his hands.
"No! Absolutely not, Mitsuri!"
He hastily grabbed her hands and spoke sincerely.
"You're not lacking charm, you have too much overflowing. You are beautiful, pure, and more lovable than anyone. I just hesitated because you're too precious, worried I might hurt you. Because you deserve to treasure your body a bit more."
Akira's words were sincere. But that sincerity unexpectedly fanned the flames in an unintended direction.
"...!"
Mitsuri's tears vanished. Instead, her pupils emitted such an intense light one might mistakenly think they'd turned heart-shaped.
'Akira-san treasures me, finds me so lovable...!'
Her mental circuits began racing in a positive direction.
"So, you're not holding back because you dislike me, but because you like me too much?"
"Huh? No, well, you could see it that way but..."
"Then don't hold back! I like Akira-san too! Treasure my body? My body exists for Akira-san!"
"Wait, Miss Mitsuri? Calm down──"
Slurp~ Mitsuri's yukata shoulder strap slid powerlessly down. The curves of her white shoulders and ample chest were starkly revealed under the moonlight.
While Akira panicked about where to look, Mitsuri pounced on him.
Thump!
"Mitsuri! Wait! Calm down!"
Akira reflexively raised his arms to push her away.
Being an oni, he possessed physical abilities surpassing humans. Currently, his physical strength was at a level similar to or around that of Daki, the weakest Upper Moon.
While controlling his strength so Mitsuri wouldn't get hurt, he tried to detach her firmly.
'First, subdue her with strength to calm her down. Ugh?!'
But Akira's arms didn't budge her. No, they didn't move at all.
"Ehehe, Akira-san. Don't be shy."
Mitsuri, not even realizing Akira was pushing with all his might, smiled brightly and rubbed her face against his chest.
'Wh, what is this...?!'
Akira was astonished. His muscular strength was top-tier even among oni. Yet he was being overpowered in strength by a human girl, however unusual her physique, a mere human.
Her muscle density was eight times that of an ordinary person.
She would later become the Love Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps, awaken a Demon Slayer Mark, gain an advantage over Upper Moon Four, and possess monstrous strength enough to tear apart Muzan's tentacles with her bare hands.
Even without having learned Breathing, her innate physicality alone already placed her beyond human level.
Even so, it shouldn't compare to an Upper Moon's strength. It was abnormal.
Akira strained his arms and resisted, but Mitsuri hummed and pressed closer. A common saying drifting around passed through Akira's mind.
A person being pounced on can exert three times their usual strength due to crisis, but the person pouncing exerts seven times their strength due to desire.
'This is... an act of God.'
As Akira froze, unable to move, Mitsuri's eyes wavered. As if suddenly coming to her senses, she released Akira's shoulders she was holding and hastily sat up. Y1pKRDY3WUhYeXVKQmZZeTNSUXY4T0N6bnNETm4rNkNnVHFqb1RLblE2NUlTNUhPeklzd2ZzeXBtM05sdWhQMg
"Ah...! S, sorry! I was too selfish, right?"
Mitsuri hung her head with a tearful expression.
"Even though Akira-san dislikes it, I forced... sorry. If you really dislike it, I'll stop. I don't want to be hated..."
Her voice trembled thinly. That appearance, as if about to burst into tears any moment, was so fragile and pure it was hard to believe she was the same person who had overpowered him with tremendous monstrous strength just moments before.
Akira looked up at her blankly.
Refusing further would inflict an indelible wound on this pure girl. And he had to admit it. That he, too, didn't want to push away this girl sending him this blind love.
Akira quietly sighed, then sat up and wiped Mitsuri's moist eyes.
"No, Mitsuri. It's not that I dislike it."
"Really?"
"Yes. You said it. That your body exists for me. I surrender."
Akira cupped her cheek and smiled softly.
"Tonight, let's officially become husband and wife."
At those words, Mitsuri's face blossomed brightly. A smile as clear and beautiful as the sky after rain.
"Yes! Darling!"
Mitsuri smiled shyly and untied her yukata cords.
Then, her bare skin was revealed, and without shame, she showed him everything she had.
The night was long. No, it was far too long. With muscle density eight times that of an ordinary person, her stamina was also beyond imagination.
The girl lovely as a cherry blossom was like an inexhaustible beast on the bed. It was only because Akira also possessed an oni's stamina; an ordinary human man might have fainted before dawn.
If one thought her fragrance would be sweet and soft like flowers, that was a mistake. Mitsuri's love was a storm. Wherever her lips and hands touched, scorching heat rose as if getting burned.
"Haa, Akira-san... I love it, it's so hot♡!"
As Mitsuri's breathing grew rougher, the room's temperature rose rapidly.
Even as his mind grew hazy, Akira felt a strange sense of danger. Because her heartbeat was pounding so fast in his ears.
'Heart rate 200... no, above that?'
Her body temperature already exceeded 38 degrees. A state where an ordinary person would faint. But Mitsuri, using that heat as fuel, burned even more fiercely.
Each time her whole body muscles repeated contraction and relaxation, Akira felt as if he'd entered a giant millstone or press.
An embrace that would crush a human's bones. Friction that felt like skin would peel. Yet unceasing, no, unstoppable movements like a runaway locomotive.
If Akira were a human without regeneration ability, he might have suffered injuries requiring eight weeks to heal on this first night.
But fortunately, and unfortunately, he was an oni. His body that regenerated when broken, recovered when exhausted, was nothing less than the most durable toy for Mitsuri.
"Darling, one more time is okay, right?"
"Mitsuri, this is already the fifth..."
"Hehe, Akira-san is strong! I love you!"
Akira's pleading mixed protests were dismissed by Mitsuri's positive interpretation.
The night was long, and Mitsuri's stamina was tremendous. Showing no signs of fatigue, rather becoming more energetic as time passed, she explored him.
The moonlight was obscured by clouds and reappeared numerous times.
The room was filled with the two's rough breathing, the sound of flesh colliding, and the creaking screams of the bed.
Just before the dawn rooster crowed, a silent scream burst from his mouth. It was the final death throes just before the cherry blossom-colored typhoon completely passed and tranquility arrived.
Dawn breaking. The fierce consummation ended around the time birds began chirping. Mitsuri was in deep sleep with a satisfied expression, using Akira's arm as a pillow.
Akira carefully extracted his arm, straightened his disheveled clothes, and left the room. Emerging into the living room, the cold dawn air entering through the open door cooled his heated body.
"Heya, Master. Look at you, had a real hot night, didn't ya?"
In the living room, Shuten sat with a sake bottle, sticking out her tongue. Tamamo and Nobu had also awoken and were looking at him with fascinated expressions.
"...You peeked."
"Could hear it, couldn't we? That lass has good lungs too, huh? Hahaha!"
Shuten Douji emptied her cup and asked mischievously.
"So? Didn't ya think you wouldn't fall for a human woman or somethin', just live moderately? Looked like you were dying and couldn't die, huh?"
Akira sat on the veranda and smiled bitterly.
"Yeah, I thought so. I thought it was just a formal marriage. But..."
Akira looked at the garden trees for a moment and spoke.
"More than I thought... she's my type."
"Haa? Type? That monstrous strength girl who eats that much rice?"
"She saw me as human."
Akira's gaze sank seriously.
"The sober Kocho sisters recognize me as an oni. Even though we became close, the distance between human and non-human couldn't be erased."
He looked down at his palm.
"But Mitsuri was different. Even when I revealed I was an oni, showed my horns, she didn't fear or guard against me. She just saw me as the being I am. She genuinely worried for me, cried for me. This kind of experience... is a first too. Felt pretty embarrassing."
Akira scratched the back of his head and flushed. Lines like from a pure-hearted man coming from the mouth of a man who casually embraces numerous Servants.
Shuten, watching this, opened her mouth blankly as if dumbfounded. Then immediately let out a deep sigh as if the ground had fallen away.
"Haa..."
"What's wrong?"
"Nah, didn't know our Master was such a pushover."
"...What?"
Shuten Douji shook her head side to side and poured the sake bottle into her mouth.
"Falling for just that, what an easy man. Tch, boring."
Akira lightly ignored Shuten's harsh words and deliberately put on a serious expression, propping his chin.
"But... last night was really dangerous. If Mitsuri knew how to use Breathing, she might have manifested a Demon Slayer Mark."
"...Huh? What nonsense is that?"
Nobunaga, listening nearby, asked as if it was absurd. Akira began explaining with a very academic attitude.
"From the information I know, a Demon Slayer Mark is said to appear on swordsmen who endure and survive an extreme state of heart rate over 200 and body temperature over 38 degrees. Numbers that could kill an ordinary human."
Akira recalled last night's fierce battle.
"Mitsuri's condition was exactly like that yesterday. That tremendous excitement and exercise. Her heart rate easily exceeded 200, her whole body was hot like a fireball. Yet she didn't tire and pressed me. Probably possible because of her superhuman physique, but if she had learned Breathing, she might have awakened a Mark in the bedroom."
Akira was analyzing very seriously just how ridiculously hot and intense last night was.
The Servants hearing this were speechless, dumbfounded. Analyzing bedroom affairs like measuring combat power.
"Ha! I'm so shocked I'm speechless."
Nobunaga crossed her arms and sneered.
"Then isn't that no different from turning Super Saiyan while having sex?"
"Um, that's true."
A Demon Slayer Mark is a transformation-type awakening. Meaning, it's like an awakening ability in manga.
Awakening during intercourse.
"Well, you know those things? Union in Bliss. Isn't becoming a Buddha also a kind of awakening? Union in Bliss is attaining enlightenment through sexual intercourse and becoming a Buddha. Surprisingly, it's a traditional awakening method. Like magical energy supply."
"Master, even so, it looks a bit disgraceful."
"I heard Ganesha is also Union in Bliss."
"Ugh, I don't even want to imagine Jinako-san doing that."
Tamamo was horrified by Akira's example, showing great dislike.
"I see~ So what she'll awaken in the future isn't that 'this world' thingy..."
Nobunaga glanced toward the bedroom door and giggled.
"It'll be my 'Bitch is the Sekai,' huh. Why not awaken everyone through sex, Master?"
"Pfft!"
Shuten spat out the sake she was drinking. And Ushiwakamaru, who seemed to have heard the conversation from afar, walked over with an awkward expression.
"Ahem. More importantly, my Lord. We found her."
Ushiwakamaru approached, clearing her throat.
"Found what?"
"That girl named Tsuyuri Kanao. The child sold into slavery, we found her and secured her through the trading company."
"Ooh, finally."
Another talent they'd been searching for. Tsuyuri Kanao, the good news that they'd secured her.
Meanwhile, the Kocho sisters Kanae and Shinobu, passing through the corridor to help with breakfast preparations, overheard that conversation and froze on the spot.
'My type.'
'Tremendous excitement and exercise... heart rate 200...'
'Awakening in the bedroom...'
'My Bitch is the Sekai...'
Fragmentary words gouged the sisters' eardrums, no, their hearts. The tips of Shinobu's fingers holding the tray trembled so much they turned white.
"...Big sister."
Shinobu's voice, instead of its usual clarity, was a low, chilly tone as if crawling from the depths of hell. Vitality disappeared from her fine face, and the highlights in her eyes were gone.
"Hear that? My type, he says. Heart rate 200, he says."
"...Yes, Shinobu. I heard very well."
Kanae also wore a smile on her lips, but a thick vein bulged on her forehead. The fan she held began cracking with a creaking sound.
"He definitely... told us, right? That it was just a formal marriage. That unlike Tsubaki-sensei, he wouldn't lay hands on her, that they'd live as a fake couple."
Shinobu muttered while biting her lip.
"But, with a girl he fake married just two days ago... actually had relations? Treating us like kids, but with Miss Mitsuri who's two years younger than big sister and one year older than me, like that?"
For some reason, she felt betrayed. Yes, for some reason.
"Indeed, Shinobu."
Kanae glared at the closed door with eyes cooled to ice.
"...Ha."
A hollow laugh burst from Shinobu's mouth.
"They say men are wolves, or was Miss Mitsuri's type his preference after all?"
A dark red aura rose from the two sisters' bodies. It was unmistakable jealousy.
Jealousy directed at that innocent pink-haired girl.
"Let's go, Shinobu."
Kanae turned around and spoke coldly.
"We need to change the breakfast menu."
"Right, big sister. Red bean rice, of all things..."
The two sisters felt something crack somewhere in their chests.