He's… not mad?
He's not mad at me?
"You mean, he's really... not mad at me?"
Eh—wait, what??
Kobeni Higashiyama stared blankly, thinking she must've misheard.
"The ground's cold," Hoshino said. "You're not gonna get up?"
The words hit her like a spell. Her nose stung, and she quickly looked up—
"Ah—ah-choo! Ah-choo!"
After sneezing twice, she turned her head away and awkwardly pushed herself to her feet.
Hoshino dropped his hand and started thinking ahead.
He'd wanted to find Himeno mostly to avoid the classic horror movie scenario where everyone splits up and gets picked off one by one. But if they couldn't find her soon, they'd have to move on. Once his three days were up, he'd be the ghost.
"Let's go." He crouched down, massive muscle-arms sprouting from his back again.
But she didn't climb on.
When he looked up, Kobeni stood sideways, arms folded, her expression screaming I'm mad.
"What now?"
"Say you're sorry," she demanded.
Hoshino gave her a look.
Really? Gonna play that game with me?
"You're serious? I'm the one who should apologize?"
"Of course!" she snapped. "You—you said such awful things! Totally unforgivable!"
"You didn't?"
"You started it!"
"Huh. Who was it that apologized one second, then stabbed me the next? Twice now, actually." His tone turned sharp. "Say you're sorry."
"…."
Kobeni froze, then sputtered, "You—you still did XXXXXXX to me! I can't forgive that!"
"Say you're sorry."
"Speak like a human being!"
Hoshino's eyes dropped to the oversized jacket she was wearing—his jacket.
"Say sorry."
"…" Kobeni bent at a full ninety degrees. "V-very, very sorry for being unreasonable!"
Hoshino nodded, pulled an onigiri from his pack, and stuffed it into her hands.
She was clearly starving—she bit into it immediately.
"There's an old saying: 'Milk makes a mother,'" Hoshino said, patting her shoulder. "It means knowing which side to pick so you can survive—and hold on tight to what'll keep you alive."
"You've got a lot to learn."
He crouched again. "Hop on."
"No." She stepped back.
No matter how much he coaxed, she wouldn't get on his back this time.
An hour later, they reached the edge of the village at the foot of the mountain.
The snow had gotten thicker and thicker, easily over five meters now.
According to their mission file, this was the second-largest settlement in Okura Village—the hot spring district. About a hundred and fifty households. They were on the eastern side; the nearest inn was on the plaza's edge, a place called Yukimi-sou Onsen Ryokan.
They needed to lay low, so Hoshino planned to find somewhere discreet before suppressing his Devil powers.
"Uuugh—ugh—"
He glanced to his right. "Still puking?"
Kobeni was leaning over one of his giant arms, retching her soul out. She was way too dizzy to answer.
It hadn't bothered her going up the mountain, but the descent had turned her stomach inside out. Riding on Hoshino's back meant she got hit with both his bouncing and the swing of the extra arms.
When there was nothing left in her stomach, she dry-heaved a few more times before finally stopping.
Hoshino handed her a pack of tissues and a bottle of water. "C'mon."
The sky was turning red—they needed a place to stay before sunset.
But as he turned, he heard soft thuds.
Kobeni was smacking one of his giant arms.
"What?"
She bit her lip, saying nothing.
"You sick?" He touched her forehead. "No fever."
"Back."
"Huh?" He tilted his head.
"Carry me," she murmured, voice small and pitiful.
Her face was red, eyes tired. She looked ready to cry.
And she was… cute.
Hoshino thought this version of Kobeni could almost compete with Makima.
"Alright," he said with a grin. "But only if you say, 'Prince, please carry me.'"
Ever since making the Contract with the Muscle Devil, his shamelessness had leveled up exponentially.
"Uuh…"
Her cherry-pink lips opened and closed several times, but every attempt died in a puff of embarrassment.
Still, she didn't give up.
"Hoshino-kun, please…" she whispered weakly. "Please carry me."
He couldn't help smiling. "Fine, fine. I'll let you off this time."
Once she was back on his shoulders, he could feel her shallow breaths against his neck.
After all the chaos, even a Contractor's body was nearing its limit.
"Let's just stay at the ryokan tonight," Hoshino suggested.
"…No money."
"My treat."
"…Really?"
"Body payment."
"…" She was too tired to argue.
They followed the snow-covered road, passing a few wooden houses and a roaring snowblower pushing mounds of snow taller than a person.
In the plaza, orange machines hummed as villagers shoveled their doorsteps. Kids rolled snowballs, squealing "ganbatte!" in tiny voices.
Finally, they stopped before a two-story wooden building.
The sign read Yukimi-sou Onsen Ryokan.
Hoshino had traveled plenty in his past life—but this would be his first time soaking in an actual hot spring.
The sliding door opened with a soft shhh, and a wave of warmth hit them, carrying the scent of sulfur and barley.
"Welcome!" a bright voice called before they even stepped in.
The entryway floor was lined with faded tatami. Three pairs of snow-dusted geta sat neatly on a bamboo rack.
"I'm supposed to take my shoes off here, right?" Hoshino asked, a bit awkward.
"…Yeah," Kobeni mumbled—also her first time in a place like this.
Thankfully, the staff here clearly came from a long line of innkeepers.
From somewhere behind the counter, a woman's voice called instructions to the movers about where to carry the new mirrors, while simultaneously managing check-outs and new guests.
She even had the awareness to call out to the entrance.
The "Welcome" came from her mouth. Hoshino hadn't even seen her yet.
"Mai, front desk," said another firm, older woman's voice.
"Ugh, nooo," came the reply—definitely a teenager's. "Mom, you promised I could write my contest novel at six!"
"Mai. Asakura. Now."
"…Fineee."
A girl peeked out from behind the counter—red obi, short apron, glasses. A sakura-shaped pin gleamed at her navy sailor uniform collar.
She hurried over, wooden clogs tapping crisply on the tatami. "Welcome! Do you have a reservation?"
"No." Hoshino shook his head.
Mai Asakura nodded briskly. "Please put your shoes on the second rack. Indoor slippers are on top."
They followed instructions and stepped inside.
Mai tapped her pen against the reservation book. "We only have two rooms left—north side, no bath, six thousand yen per night; or east side, with a view, ten thousand per night."
Before either could answer, she tore off two forms. "North room heating runs till 2 a.m. East room has an open-air terrace. Dinner's in the public dining hall. Yukata in the closet. Outdoor bath closes at ten. Private bath's open anytime."
She spoke fast but clear—smooth as water.
No wonder Kobeni could only make it as a Devil Hunter, Hoshino thought.
Sensing his mocking gaze, Kobeni turned away, pouting.
"East room," Hoshino said.
His sleeve was tugged immediately. No need to look who it was.
"I'm not… not paying with my body," Kobeni muttered weakly.
He ignored her.
The scene didn't escape Mai Asakura's sharp eyes.
As she counted the total, her mind was already spinning.
The boy's younger than me. The girl looks about my age. Cute couple, but trouble written all over them.
He's handsome, she's adorable—but his vibe screams "sleazebag rich kid."
Takes a girl to a hot spring with a private bath? Love hotels must've gotten boring.
That look in his eyes—cold, dismissive. Total jerk.
Diagnosis: silver-tier scumbag.
The girl, though—pale, weak, totally submissive type. But for someone like her to say "body payment"? Hah…
Diagnosis: absolute must-write character.
In that instant, inspiration struck like lightning.
Perfect! My next novel!
She could barely stop herself from running to her room to write.
"…Are you done calculating yet?" the "scumbag" asked.
Mai snapped back to reality. "Apologies. East-view room for two—total with tax and service, twenty-five thousand yen. Cash or card?"
"Cash." Hoshino handed over a neat stack of bills.
"Thank you. Please wait just a moment." She hurried off.
As soon as she was gone, Kobeni spoke again.
"I don't want body payment. I'll stay in the north room by myself."
She wobbled toward the counter—Hoshino grabbed her by the hood.
"Body payment, my ass. I was joking. You seriously can't tell?" He sighed. "Ever watch horror movies here? The ones where people split up always die first. Staying together's safer."
"No. You're scarier than any ghost."
"Don't be ridiculous! If I wanted to do something, I'd have done it back in the cave, not now."
He paused. "Besides, after tonight, I've only got three days left to live. Last thing I need is to piss you off when I still need you as Devil bait."
"What?! Three days?!"
"Shh!"
"…Fine," she said after a moment. "I'll let you off."
"Thanks, Kobeni-san. Please pay your tuition next time."
She bowed slightly. "Thank you for treating me tonight."
Hoshino waved it off.
Twenty-five thousand yen wasn't cheap—but as a Public Safety Devil Hunter in Tokyo, his post-tax salary was around 5.5 million yen a year. He could afford it.
Money wasn't the issue.
He just wanted to survive long enough to make it to April 8—the university entrance ceremony. Maybe even his graduation on March 18.
Assuming Makima let him live that long.
"Welcome."
A new voice came from the door. A couple had entered—the woman heavily pregnant, the man steadying her by the arm.
Mai returned just then, holding the receipt and a wooden key engraved with the words Starfall Room.
"Please sign here, sir."
Hoshino hesitated, then wrote simply: "Hoshino."
Rip—
"All set, Mr. Hoshino. Here's your key and receipt. The Starfall Room's on the second floor, right-hand side, second door. Enjoy your stay—with your girlfriend."
"Sure, sure," Hoshino said lazily. Kobeni was too tired to correct her.
The pregnant woman smiled brightly. "Mai-chan! It's been forever!"
"Eh—really?" Mai pressed a finger to her lips, then grinned. "Misaki-san! Masao-san! Wow—it's been, what, three months?"
"Ahh~ Mai-chan's gotten even cuter!"
Misaki Suzuki looked barely in her late thirties, her single ponytail draped over one shoulder. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Still working this hard? Coming back from Tokyo just to help the family—whoever marries you's one lucky guy."
"Don't say that," the older woman behind the counter sighed.
"Heehee~" Mai blushed.
Misaki leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, "So, how about our Ichiro, huh? He got into your school this year—you two were childhood friends!"
"Misaki!"
Two voices snapped at once.
One was her husband, Masao Yamada—a scholarly-looking man with glasses and a weary but gentle smile.
The other came from the inn's manager, who emerged from the back, clapping a hand on the counter.
"Yamada Misaki! What kind of talk is that to someone else's underage daughter?"
Then she paused mid-scold, squinting toward the stairs.
"Wait a minute… you—"
But by then, Hoshino had already turned the corner and disappeared upstairs.