Ryōsuke was still lost in his impressions of Tamayo, completely oblivious to the subtle shift in the atmosphere around him. He continued describing her purely by instinct.
"She's pretty gentle, has a good temper, very understanding. Her aura is… yeah, kind of special—like something that's settled over time. She's older than me, and as for her figure…"
He tried to recall the graceful outline beneath Tamayo's proper kimono, carefully choosing his words.
"…well-proportioned. Has substance. Quite nice."
Rika's brain short-circuited.
She instinctively lowered her head and glanced at her own still-developing figure—
Rika: Σ_(꒪ཀ꒪」∠)!
R–Ryōsuke-ge!
So that's your type?!
Waaahhh—!
No! From today onward, I'm drinking milk! Eating papaya!
My fate is mine to decide—not heaven's!!!
Unaware of the storm raging in Rika's heart, Jigoro beamed with delight, nodding again and again as he automatically filled in the image of a gentle, virtuous woman.
"Good, good! A gentle and considerate wife is a blessing! Older is fine—three years older is like holding a gold brick! She'll know how to dote on you. Come now, how old is she exactly?"
Ryōsuke, still thinking about Tamayo's four-hundred-years-deep composure, answered without thinking.
"Specifically? Umm… probably just a bit older than you, Grandpa…"
"PFFFT—!"
The water Shōta had just taken into his mouth shot out like a high-pressure jet. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
You went out demon hunting and came back with a sugar mommy?!
Rika snapped her head up. The color drained from her rosy cheeks, leaving behind only blank shock—as if she'd been struck by invisible lightning.
In that instant, her mind filled with countless horrifying images:
Ryōsuke affectionately holding the arm of a white-haired, deeply wrinkled old granny.
The granny trembling as she handed him a bowl of soup, Ryōsuke gently feeding her while holding her hand.
"Careful, granny dear~ It's hot…"
Her worldview—and her fragile glass heart—shattered quietly.
Jigoro's kind smile froze… then cracked inch by inch.
His grip on the cane trembled violently.
It felt as though the wrinkles on the old man's face deepened by dozens all at once.
Peach Mountain fell into a deathly silence. Even the incessant chirping of insects vanished.
Jigoro coughed dryly a few times, his tone heavy and earnest.
"R–Ryōsuke… ah…"
"I know demon slaying puts a lot of pressure on the mind. If—if you're feeling unwell in the head…"
His throat stuck. The corner of his mouth twitched uncontrollably.
"If you're troubled, you must talk to Grandpa, alright?! Don't—don't go doing anything wrong!"
This is heresy! Utter heresy!!!
Ryōsuke scratched his head, utterly baffled.
"Oh… okay?"
Jigoro staggered back toward the house, step by step.
Looks like Rika needs to spend much more time with Ryōsuke!
Good thing I asked today!
What in the world is going on—?!
Ryōsuke frowned. The moment he turned around, Rika rushed into her room with reddened eyes and slammed the door shut.
Silence fell again.
Ryōsuke looked at Shōta. Shōta let out a long, emotional sigh and patted his shoulder, full of admiration.
"Good brother. When you get rich, don't forget me."
"You sick or something?"
Ryōsuke rolled his eyes at him.
Shōta didn't mind at all and happily went back to his room.
To him, Ryōsuke was now a living legend.
As long as he wasn't wrecking his sister, who cared who he dated?
Ryōsuke sighed deeply, his head throbbing.
They clearly misunderstood something—but explaining it would only make it worse. Besides, his liver still hurt.
The next few days on Peach Mountain felt… strange.
Jigoro sighed more often than usual.
During training, the way he looked at Ryōsuke was painfully complicated, full of self-doubt like, Did I mess this kid up?
In the end, determined to nip Ryōsuke's terrifying "ideas" in the bud, Jigoro began deliberately assigning Ryōsuke to stay near Rika.
"Ryōsuke, help Rika turn over the herbs she's drying."
"Ryōsuke, this wooden post's crooked—fix it with Rika."
"Ryōsuke, the water jar—"
Unfortunately, it didn't help. If anything, it backfired.
Rika visibly wilted.
The lively, sun-like girl who used to chatter nonstop was gone.
She grew quiet, often spacing out during training, barely able to eat, her whole face screaming:
"I! Am! Not! Happy!"
Whenever Ryōsuke spoke to her, she either lowered her head and murmured a soft "Mm," or avoided his gaze altogether and hurried away with some excuse.
Even Shōta, dense as a roof beam, finally noticed something was wrong.
That evening, after training ended, Shōta seized the chance when Rika was spacing out under the corridor and sat down beside her.
"Rika! What's going on with you lately? You've got no energy at all."
He flashed his usual big grin, trying to chase away her gloom.
"Did someone bully you? Tell your brother—I'll beat him up!"
Rika slowly turned her head. Her big eyes were clouded with unshakable grievance and confusion.
She stared at Shōta for a long moment before softly asking,
"Big brother… am I… am I really ugly?"
Ugly? His sister—ugly?!
From childhood to now, Kirigaya Shōta could swear with his chest out—
On all of Peach Mountain—no, within a hundred li—his sister Rika was the cutest! The prettiest!
Every time he took her down the mountain, the boys from nearby villages sneaked glances their way!
"Who?! Who dared say you're ugly?!"
Shōta's fists clenched until they cracked. Veins bulged on his forehead.
"I'll gouge out his eyes and give them to you as marbles! Saying my sister's ugly?! He's got a death wish!"
Hearing that only made Rika feel worse.
She sniffled, gaze drifting toward the figure training in the field, her voice thick with confusion and grievance.
"Then… then why… why would Ryōsuke-ge like an old woman older than Grandpa?! I'm not bad either!"
So that's it?!
Shōta's teeth ground together as he shot a murderous glare at Ryōsuke, who was practicing Total Concentration: Constant.
So this is the root of it!
All because of that bastard! Talking about liking grandmas and making his precious sister cry!
At the same time, Jigoro also looked at Ryōsuke, worry written all over his face.
Three gazes—like three arrows—locked onto Ryōsuke at once.
Ryōsuke, who had just been thinking about where to hunt a few more "experience packs" to make up ten years of lifespan, suddenly felt a chill down his spine.
The next second, he met three pairs of eyes staring straight at him.
The courtyard fell completely silent, the air seeming to freeze.
Under this "three-man tribunal," Ryōsuke's scalp tingled.
He blinked in confusion, sounding utterly innocent.
"Uh… why are you all staring at me?"
He was genuinely lost.
He'd been training his breathing properly these past few days—he hadn't done anything!
Seeing Ryōsuke's innocent expression, Shōta felt like he was about to explode just from looking at him.
"You bastard—!"
Just as Ryōsuke stood there at a loss, a sharp cry tore through the air.
The deep-blue honeyeater landed on his shoulder, delivering its command.
"Urgent report! Urgent report! Yasui Ryōsuke! Kō-level directive! Gah!"
"Suspected demon activity in Yamagata Prefecture! Proceed immediately to investigate! Depart at once!"
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