Don't You Think We Look Like a Married Couple?

"The Insect Hashira... is going to cook personally?!"

A Kakushi member clapped a hand over their mouth in horror, as though they had stumbled upon some extraordinary state secret.

"N-no, don't jump to conclusions! She's just supervising..."

Aoi Kanzaki's voice gradually faded as she spoke.

She shook her head sharply, then, to hide her fluster, put on a stern face and shouted at the two Kakushi members,

"Now that the patient is out of danger, what are you standing around for?! Clean this place up! The smell of blood is so strong-how is the patient supposed to rest?! Get moving!"

"Y-yes! We're very sorry!"

The shout made the two Kakushi members jump, and they hurriedly began gathering up the bloodstained sheets and instruments.

The kitchen at the Butterfly Mansion was spacious, and on most days it was filled with the bustling figures of Aoi Kanzaki and the "bean-eyed girls" she directed. Today, though, it was unusually quiet, with only the rush of water from the tap and the occasional crisp sound of chopping.

"Since this is a special meal, I can't just throw something together."

Standing at the sink, Shinobu Kocho deftly tightened her signature updo a little, then took the white apron hanging on the wall. She turned around and reached behind her to tie the straps, the apron making her slender waist look small enough to encircle with both hands.

Kiyohiko sat on a tall stool by the dining table, propping his chin in his hands, his long legs awkwardly in the way.

His gaze drifted involuntarily to Shinobu's back.

He had to admit, as long as this wicked woman kept her mouth shut and wasn't holding a syringe or poison, she really was... pretty.

That homely, wifely air was a stark contrast to the way she usually looked in her haori, wielding a Nichirin Blade. It was like a feather lightly tickling his heart.

"Um... hey..."

Kiyohiko finally couldn't resist breaking the quiet that was making his heart race.

He hopped off the stool and rubbed his hands together awkwardly. "Let me help too. After all, what I'm going to eat... ahem, the portion might be a little large. I wouldn't feel right letting you do all the work alone."

Because of the Blood Demon Art he had just used, he was absolutely starving now. But as a demon with an "bottomless pit" for an appetite, asking a girl who weighed only thirty-seven kilograms to make him a mountain of food felt a little like child labor.

Shinobu Kocho turned around, holding a freshly washed daikon radish, a meaningful smile curling her lips:

"Oh? Can you cook too, Mr. Kiyohiko? What a surprise. I thought all you knew how to do was shout and fuss over medicine you didn't like, just like a picky little child."

"Quit it! I can at least wash and chop vegetables!"

Kiyohiko rolled his eyes and strode over to the sink. Rolling up his sleeves, he grabbed a handful of greens from the basket. "Don't underestimate me. I'm... perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Kiyohiko wasn't lying about that. When he had been a hospital intern in his previous life, every day had been a struggle to survive, and the videos he watched most were about how to make three hearty meals a day for ten yuan.

If he hadn't been able to take care of himself, he would have transmigrated to another world back then.

And so, another figure joined the bustle in the kitchen.

Though Kiyohiko had a sharp tongue, his hands moved deftly. Cold water washed over the vegetables, carrying away the smell of dirt. He focused on picking through and washing the greens, doing his best not to look at Shinobu as she cut meat nearby.

"They're washed. Where do I put them?"

Kiyohiko asked, turning around with a basin of drained greens in his hands.

"Pass them to me."

Shinobu Kocho didn't turn around. She merely shifted slightly to the side and held out a hand. Kiyohiko walked over and passed her the basin. Their fingers brushed lightly as it changed hands.

Damp and slightly cool.

Kiyohiko glanced at Shinobu Kocho as if by reflex. Only when he saw no reaction from her did he breathe a sigh of relief and walk aside, intending to drink some water to calm his racing heart.

Shinobu Kocho took the greens, deftly tipped them into the pot, and gently stirred them with a ladle. Steam rose, blurring her profile and making her expression look indistinct.

Suddenly, as if she had remembered something amusing, she chuckled softly.

"Say, Mr. Kiyohiko."

Her voice carried through the drifting steam, soft and slightly languid. "Don't you think... the way we are now, we look just like a newlywed couple?"

"Cough, cough, cough-!!"

Kiyohiko, who was drinking water to soothe his throat, immediately choked and erupted into a fit of violent coughing. Steam rose from his head, and his entire face reddened at a visible speed, half from choking and half from...

All right, it was entirely from choking. There was absolutely no other reason.

Kiyohiko hurriedly put down his glass, nearly knocking over the soy sauce bottle beside it.

"Y-you... what the hell are you talking about?!"

Shinobu Kocho turned around and leaned back against the counter, folding her arms as she calmly admired Kiyohiko's flustered state. A sly light flickered in her purple eyes, like a cat that had caught a mouse by the tail.

"Oh? Such a strong reaction?"

She tilted her head and blinked in feigned surprise,

"I was only saying. After all, the husband comes home from a hard day's work, the wife prepares the meal at home, and the two of them busy themselves together in the kitchen... Isn't that a common scene in novels?"

"Didn't you say that if you weren't a demon, you'd definitely be an outstanding novelist in the Taisho era? Why are you getting so nervous over such a classic scene?"

She paused, the smile on her lips deepening.

"Or... have you secretly imagined a scene like this yourself, Mr. Kiyohiko? Are you so embarrassed because I guessed right?"

"Who... who's embarrassed?! This is anger! I'm angry at you for making such irresponsible remarks!"

Kiyohiko retorted, craning his neck, but his bright red ears gave him away completely. "Besides, I'm a demon! Even if I don't admit it, that's what everyone calls me. A demon and a Hashira... how could there be a melodramatic plot like that?! You should read fewer of those weird novels!"

He turned around in a fluster and pretended to tidy the seasoning bottles on the kitchen counter, though they weren't out of place, trying to hide his embarrassment by keeping busy.

Calm down, Kiyohiko. This is that woman's sugar-coated attack. If you dare show even a hint of happiness, she might smile and cut you down with her Nichirin Blade the very next second.

Shinobu Kocho watched his back, stiff as a board, and the amusement in her eyes gradually softened.

What a cute reaction. He's blushing like a boiled shrimp.

Shinobu Kocho thought this to herself. She didn't know why she wanted to tease Kiyohiko, even with this kind of... romantic joke.

Maybe it's because this idiot demon is surprisingly innocent about such things. As for whether I like him...

Shinobu Kocho shook her head and cast those thoughts aside.

Ever since my older sister left me, the word "love" seems destined to have nothing to do with me.

Shinobu Kocho composed herself and played along with Kiyohiko. "Yes, yes. Mr. Kiyohiko is a tough guy determined to 'never give in to wicked women.'"

She chuckled and turned around, lifting the lid off the pot. A rich aroma instantly filled the kitchen.

"But, Mr. Tough Guy, the noodles are ready. If you don't eat them soon, they'll get soggy."

"Oh, coming."

Kiyohiko obediently walked over.