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Originally, considering this was her first time, Bokue had planned to show some restraint—figuring an hour was more than enough.
Unfortunately, since Senpai's thinking had clearly gone off track, he had no choice but to put in some extra effort to set her straight.
Add in the enhancement from his magnetic field power—constantly repairing any damage to Saeko's body while continuously replenishing her stamina—Bokue no longer held back at all, going full throttle without any reservations.
And so, two hours passed.
In the hotel room's bedroom, now once again returned to silence, the swordswoman who'd been agonizing and declaring she'd take responsibility alone just two hours ago now lay completely prostrate on the bed, unmoving. Her lips parted slightly, eyes vacant, allowing Bokue to casually hold her from behind as occasional strange sounds escaped her throat.
"Ngh... guh..."
She'd clearly lost all capacity for thought.
As for the bedroom that had served as the main battlefield, it was now an absolute disaster zone.
Even with the hotel's air conditioning running at full blast, the room's humidity remained abnormally high, the air saturated with the scent of hawthorn flowers.
As for the bed at the core combat zone—that went without saying.
Like a battlefield after a Gatling gun had fired ten thousand rounds, the soft bed had formed a small pool around the depression where they lay—an ocean of spent "ammunition" practically submerging them.
Over the past two hours, what Bokue had done to Saeko Busujima was exactly like how he normally washed drinking glasses.
To rinse out residual dish soap foam, you had to fill the cup with tap water, pour it out, fill it again, pour it out again... and repeat.
For Saeko, it was the same.
Simply put, she'd spent the past two hours completely transformed into Bokue's cup.
She'd continuously cycled between those two states, back and forth, until finally her brain went completely blank.
Insecurity, guilt, all those teachings about propriety and shame her father had drilled into her since childhood... none of that mattered anymore.
Only one thing remained.
She had completely become Kouhai's personal possession.
"Senpai?"
After two solid hours of intensive development, once he'd stopped, Bokue hadn't heard a peep from the swordswoman. He tentatively poked at Saeko in his arms.
"Mmm..."
Only an incoherent murmur answered him.
No good—she'd completely lost consciousness.
Maybe going full throttle for two straight hours really was too harsh...
Bokue thought to himself.
Though thinking about it carefully, this level of heavy firepower would leave even Kuroka dizzy—she'd need to spend the entire next day recovering. Let alone Busujima-senpai.
No matter how you sliced it, a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer was ultimately just a slightly stronger ordinary human. If even Kuroka—who could casually crush Demon King-class opponents—couldn't handle it, a mere Jujutsu Sorcerer didn't stand a chance.
But right now Yura was still waiting for him at home. Yet he obviously couldn't just leave Busujima-senpai here like this.
Hmmmm...
Fine, might as well bring her back.
After brief consideration, Bokue ultimately decided to bring Saeko directly back to the Keikain estate.
After all, he currently lived in the family head's residence. Under normal circumstances, no one would ever come by, and his room wasn't even the same as Yura's.
No big deal!
With that thought, Bokue sat up directly from the bed, scooping up the still-dazed Saeko from the bed full of "ammunition" in a princess carry.
Then his toes lightly touched the floor. Golden magnetic field radiance immediately spread outward in a circle from where he stood, purifying all filth in its path.
In the blink of an eye, the suite that had been saturated with hawthorn scent and covered in battle scars was suddenly spotless—as if nothing had happened, even looking like it had just been meticulously cleaned by hotel staff.
Next, Bokue's toes touched the floor once more, and he vanished from the room along with the swordswoman in his arms.
❁❁❁❁
Scene shift—
Inside the Keikain family head's residence.
Without a single ripple of power, Bokue appeared out of thin air in his own bedroom.
The classic Japanese-style room was pitch black, with only faint moonlight filtering through the window onto the tatami mats.
Worth mentioning: despite not having returned to stay here for a full month, the entire bedroom still carried the faint, clean fragrance of tatami. Even the futon laid out in the center of the room was arranged neatly.
Clearly, throughout this past month Yura had been regularly tidying his room—cleaning it spotlessly every day, always ready for his return.
What a shame that for Bokue, even when he did come back to stay, it was only temporary. If nothing unexpected happened, once this whole Hagoromo-Gitsune situation was wrapped up, he'd be heading back to Itogami Island.
While thinking this, Bokue carried Saeko over to the futon and first tucked the swordswoman into the covers. After confirming she was properly covered, he turned and carefully opened the door to leave the room.
Out in the corridor, at the same time, bright light filtered through the paper-covered sliding door of another bedroom across the hallway.
That was Yura's room.
At this hour, with Yura's room still lit, she was clearly waiting specifically for his return.
This was a bit awkward.
After all, he'd only said he was "taking Busujima-senpai back to her hotel," yet now over three hours had passed—going from not even 8 PM to nearly 11 PM.
With no other option, Bokue could only stride across the corridor to the girl's door. He lightly knocked on the wooden frame before sliding the door open and poking his head inside.
Inside the bedroom, Yura—already finished washing up and changed into pajamas—sat at the table with her head lowered, reading a book. Hearing the commotion at the door, she turned her head with an indifferent look.
"..."
"..."
The two looked at each other wordlessly.
Bokue could only bite the bullet and break the silence first.
"You're still up, Yura..."
"Didn't you say you were just taking Busujima-senpai back to her hotel?" The young Onmyōji girl asked.
"You left before eight o'clock, but it's already past eleven now."
Not giving Bokue a chance to speak, Yura continued.
"Even if you and Senpai walked back and it took half an hour, then you walked from her place back to the Keikain estate—another half hour—that's only one hour total."
"Even if Busujima-senpai was incredibly grateful you escorted her home and insisted you come upstairs for tea to express her thanks repeatedly, that's at most another half hour."
"But it's already been three hours. Excluding that necessary hour and a half, where did the other hour and a half go?"
The young Onmyōji girl—who normally seemed somewhat airheaded—now had pure black eyes gleaming with keen intelligence.
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