The French feast never happened. Instead, it became a special grade feast painstakingly prepared by Satoru Gojo.
In the bathroom's large mirror, through the hazy steam, Miwa Chisei could see her beautiful figure and the red plum blossoms blooming across her snow-white skin.
"Tch."
Miwa Chisei frowned in displeasure. What was she supposed to do if he kept behaving like this once the weather turned hot?
She might as well take a page out of Kento Nanami's book and pretend she had work out of town.
Overseas would be best. She could discuss it with Yuki when the time came.
Miwa Chisei had barely stepped out of the bathroom after washing up when a tall figure pulled her into his arms. The silver-haired man rubbed against the crook of her neck like an enormous cat.
"You changed your shower gel. This one smells really nice."
"Mei Mei recommended the brand. Keep your hands to yourself."
"It was the shower gel's doing. If you have to blame something, blame the shower gel."
He came up with all sorts of excuses: the yukata had done it, the body lotion had done it-whatever the case, the true culprit, Satoru Gojo, was perfectly innocent. He had merely fallen under their spell.
An impressive number of square wrappers lay scattered beside the bed, the result of a contest between two jujutsu sorcerers whose strength had both reached special grade.
It finally ended with Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer Miwa Chisei surrendering and begging for mercy.
"So, have you had your fill?"
Listening to the man's cheerful words, Miwa Chisei lay exhausted on the soft bed, her voice hoarse and tinged with resentment.
"Thank you for the meal."
Why did someone have to be so childish?
Early the next morning, the two of them were in noticeably