I Transmigrated and Still Have to Take a Test?

"What did you say to Aoi just now? She complained to me about it for quite a while, you know?"

Smiling, Shinobu Kocho pointed at the bottle in Kiyohiko's hand, her tone suggesting she already knew the answer.

"I... I didn't say much. I was going to share some candy with her, but she didn't look like she liked candy, so I didn't give her any."

With that, Kiyohiko slipped the bottle into his pocket.

Shinobu Kocho narrowed her eyes, the corners of her mouth curling a little higher.

"Is that so?"

"Of course!"

"Anyway, what did you come looking for me again for? Surely you're not here to take back the candy you gave me?"

Kiyohiko turned his head away from Shinobu Kocho, trying to change the subject.

Watching him guard his food, Shinobu Kocho's eyes flickered with a trace of amusement, barely perceptible before it vanished beneath her habitual mask.

You were so serious and proper on the roof earlier, and now you're back to being that infuriating guy. Which one is the real you, Kiyohiko? Or... are you embarrassed?

"Of course not. I wouldn't take back something I've given away. It's just..."

She leaned forward slightly, and the scent that made Kiyohiko's scalp tingle instantly drew closer.

"I came to see if eating my candy had made you a little better behaved. After all, it would be troubling for me if you caused any trouble at the Butterfly Mansion. If that happens, you might not be eating candy, but a whole feast of wisteria poison instead."

Her voice was as gentle as water, but her words were all knives.

Kiyohiko felt the hairs on his back stand on end. He gave a couple of awkward laughs and stiffly leaned backward.

"Ha ha... ha, that joke isn't funny at all. How could someone as kind, upright, and above vulgar tastes as me cause trouble? I'm a pacifist! Um... could you sit a little farther away? That smell is really getting to my head."

Shinobu Kocho's gaze grew even gentler as she watched him stubbornly refuse to back down. Instead of moving away, she reached out and unexpectedly rested her cool fingertips on his wrist.

"Hey, men and women shouldn't touch like that."

Kiyohiko grumbled and tried to pull his hand back, only to find that although Shinobu Kocho's fingers seemed gentle, they gripped his pulse point like an iron clamp.

"Don't move."

Shinobu Kocho's voice dropped for a moment, and her smile faded a little, revealing a physician's seriousness.

"Your regeneration is powerful, but it takes a lot out of you too, doesn't it?"

Kiyohiko froze for a moment, then pursed his lips and stopped struggling, letting her examine him.

Shinobu Kocho examined Kiyohiko meticulously, only letting out a breath of relief once she had confirmed there was nothing wrong. "Your temperature is still a little low, but I suppose that's because you're a demon. It seems you really weren't lying to me. You use food as a substitute for your instincts..."

"You really aren't like a demon, Kiyohiko."

"Tch, I told you, I'm human, just a little deficient. Kidney deficiency, you know? A man's pain."

"What nonsense."

Shinobu Kocho released his hand and stood up, looking down at him with her perfect smile back in place.

"Since you have enough energy to talk back to me, it seems you've recovered well. In that case, as a 'tenant,' shouldn't you cooperate with your landlord's little request?"

"What request? Let me make this clear first: I'll sell my skills, not my body!"

Kiyohiko folded his arms across his chest, looking wary.

"Don't worry, nobody wants your body."

Shinobu Kocho stepped outside, and when she reappeared, she was holding a thick stack of papers, which she gently set on the table.

"This is a questionnaire about your physical condition, three hundred questions in total. Please finish it before lunch. I'd like to collect some data. Since you insist you're human, prove it the human way."

With that, she turned and walked toward the door.

"Write neatly, Kiyohiko. If your handwriting is too ugly, today's lunch might be wisteria mixed rice."

"Three... three hundred questions?! Are you a devil?!"

Kiyohiko looked at the stack of papers and let out a despairing wail.

What's going on? I've transmigrated and I still have to take a test?!

Shinobu Kocho paused at the door and looked back, giving him an exceptionally radiant smile.

"Do your best."

The door closed.

Kiyohiko collapsed onto the tatami and stared at the ceiling, the scent of wisteria he both loved and hated still lingering in his nose.

"That woman's heart is definitely black."

When Kiyohiko took a proper look at the questions in the stack of questionnaires as thick as a brick before him, the corners of his mouth twitched almost as fast as the notes on the Sound Hashira's score.

First page, question one: [Please describe in detail your physiological reaction when you smell human blood (at least 50 characters).]

"Physiological reaction? Ha! And at least 50 characters?"

Kiyohiko snatched up the writing brush as though he were gripping a dagger. Indignantly, he dipped it in ink and scrawled across the paper, his handwriting as wild as a drunken cursive master's.

Answer: It's like seeing freshly cooked spicy crayfish, grilled pork belly sizzling with oil, ice-cold happy water... Basically, I crave it, really crave it, crave it so much I drool.

But that's the same as seeing delicious food! Understand? It's respect for good food! Don't you drool when you see braised pork knuckle? Surely you do, right?

When he finished, he nodded with satisfaction, feeling that his logic deserved full marks.

Question two: [What physical symptoms do you experience when you see wisteria?]

Answer: Dizziness, blurred vision, nausea, the urge to vomit, loss of appetite, lethargy, and the urge to immediately drag over whoever planted the flowers (specifically, a certain lady in a butterfly haori) and give her a spanking. I suggest the Butterfly Mansion immediately uproot all its wisteria.

Answering the questions gradually turned into a one-man spree. The more Kiyohiko wrote, the easier it became and the more excited he got, until he completely let himself go.

Question 50: [Please describe your ideal partner.]

Answer: Big breasts, a slim waist, gentle and considerate, and most importantly-absolutely no hiding a knife behind a smile, absolutely no liking to play with poison, and absolutely no dressing like a gaudy butterfly!

Question 100: [Please draw the Demon Slayer Corps' Hashira-level members as you see them.]

Kiyohiko looked at the question and smiled wickedly. With a sweeping stroke of his brush, he drew a huge, crooked turtle on the paper. He wrote a large "insect" on its shell and drew a bow on its head, its mouth open and tongue sticking out.

Time flew by amid the pleasure of his prank. After an unknown amount of time, Kiyohiko finally put down his brush.

Looking at the questionnaire, now unrecognizable and covered in doodles, ink spots, and strange remarks, he let out a long breath, feeling as though his whole being had ascended.

If you asked Kiyohiko whether he had answered the questions seriously,

Kiyohiko would say, "Well... how is that not answering seriously?"

If you asked Kiyohiko whether he knew the consequences of doing this, such as being sliced up by a certain butterfly lady and fed to the fish,

Of course he did, but somehow, whenever he thought of Shinobu Kocho's smile, he couldn't stop himself from courting death. Even her angry face was easier to look at than that fake mask.

Just then, soft footsteps sounded outside the door.

"Kiyohiko, it's lunchtime. Have you finished the questionnaire?"