"I'm home."
Upon entering the house, Kenmyo Isayama habitually called out to the empty room. A decade-old habit isn't easily broken overnight, but the person who used to respond with a gentle "Welcome back" to his tired self was no longer there.
Staring into the pitch-black foyer, a wave of exhaustion washed over Kenmyo, and he couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh.
"I haven't even sorted out dinner yet. Forget it, I'll just grab a snack."
Busy since school let out, Kenmyo's first sip of water tonight had been in the medical tent. Even with nearly five million yen in his bank account, he couldn't exactly manifest a feast out of thin air.
As if hearing his internal monologue, a gentle female voice drifted out from the kitchen.
"You're back, Ken."
"Dinner's almost ready, just wait a bit."
"???"
The voice was so tender that Kenmyo almost thought the seal in the basement had broken and "Sakura Isayama" had escaped to eat him. But when he felt his Psionic lock remained untouched, he realized he was being paranoid.
Am I having a breakdown? Sakura Isayama had jumpscared him twice now, so his mind jumped straight to his sister. However, the person calling him to eat was undeniably human—and a stunning beauty in his memory.
"Why aren't the lights on, Yomi-nee?"
Kenmyo swapped his shoes and flipped the switches. One by one, the lights flickered to life, the warm tones driving away the chill and adding a touch of humanity to the hollow house. Since the kitchen was located near the back door, if only the kitchen light was on, it wouldn't be visible from the front entrance.
Though Kenmyo's tone carried a hint of a complaint, his words held an obvious intimacy with the woman he called Yomi.
"And you scared the life out of me."
He walked into the kitchen and spoke to the busy figure inside.
"Hehe, I just wanted to do a surprise inspection to see if you were eating properly."
The girl—who had tied her long, silky raven hair into a ponytail for convenience—was holding a tasting dish. She wore a black JK (school) uniform beneath a white apron she'd put on to protect her clothes. Below her short skirt, her legs showed signs of athletic training; they were pale but strong. At a glance, she exuded high "feminine power," yet her features held a distinct, heroic sharpness.
Her name was Yomi Isayama. She was the adopted daughter of Naraku Isayama, Kenmyo's maternal uncle. Years ago, Kenmyo and Sakura could have been adopted by their uncle as well, but the siblings knew the Isayama clan was struggling and chose to be sensible.
"But you weren't home, so I had to let myself in."
Yomi huffed as she closed the pot lid and turned toward Kenmyo.
"Listen here, Ken. I agreed to let you live alone on the condition that you'd take care of yourself! But your fridge is so empty there's nothing left but the milk I bought you last time. I can't believe it!"
"Sorry, sorry. I've been busy lately."
In order to scrape together the 100,000 points for his first D-rank simulation, Kenmyo really had been pushing himself to the brink—his dismal attendance record at school was proof of that. When his sister was alive, she handled the meals; since her passing, he hadn't even set foot in a supermarket, settling for whatever he could grab at a convenience store. His fridge was currently so barren it would make a mouse weep.
Kenmyo gave an awkward smile and quickly changed the subject. "Yomi-nee, are the dishes ready? Let me help you bring them out."
"Wait, Ken."
Only then did Yomi notice the startling reddish-brown stains on Kenmyo's clothes. Accustomed to such sights, she identified them instantly. Those were dried bloodstains.
"What's that on your clothes?"
Crap. Kenmyo's heart sank. He'd forgotten about that.
However, his expression didn't flicker. His "poker face" had been forged through countless times he'd come home battered from fighting spirits and had to lie to his sister.
"Ah, the blood on my shirt? Don't worry, Yomi-nee. I accidentally got some on me while helping treat the wounded during my shift."
"You know me—if I see a Cursed Spirit, I run before it even notices me. Mr. Akutagawa would never let me do anything dangerous."
It was actually Yomi who had introduced Kenmyo to the cushy job of following Akutagawa. Since the "Scavengers" were experienced former Grade 1 Sorcerers, the safety factor was high, and the pay was enough to cover the living expenses for Kenmyo and Sakura back then.
"Is that so? Well, that's good."
Yomi appeared to accept the answer, but the moment Kenmyo relaxed, she reached out and yanked his shirt open.
"Whoa! Yomi-nee, what are you doing?!"
Kenmyo felt a sudden chill on his torso. His "elder sister" didn't trust a word coming out of his mouth; she preferred to trust her own eyes.
"Okay, you pass this time."
Yomi let out a sigh of relief. There were no visible wounds; the blood really must have belonged to someone else. After her inspection, Yomi resumed her "big sister" persona, leaving Kenmyo no room to protest the fact that he'd just been manhandled.
"You're filthy. Don't just stand there 'helping.' Go." Yomi huffed and gave him a firm but gentle shove on the back. "Go take a shower, right now."
"I get it, I'm going."
Kenmyo sighed and slunk off to the bathroom. Why are all the women in this family so domineering?
Once her "stinky little brother" disappeared from sight, the previously dominant Yomi immediately crouched onto the floor like a shy schoolgirl. Her ears and face flushed a deep crimson as she let out a soft, embarrassed whine.
"Calm down, Yomi... calm down."
Outside, under the streetlamp, the terrifying Twelve-Eyed Lion sensed Yomi's inner turmoil and let out a disdainful snort. It seemed to be saying:
"Hmph. Women."