Hiro tightened the arm wrapped around Rize and lightly rubbed his chin against the soft crown of her head. The faint fragrance in her hair lingered at his nose.
"Tomorrow," he said, his voice slightly husky after relaxing, "we will adjust the schedule a bit.
We will go to Aogiri Tree first. After finishing things there, we will swing by the furniture mall to pick a coffee table. How does that sound?"
Rize was staring at the exaggerated variety show on TV. Hearing this, she tilted her head slightly. Her long, dense lashes blinked, and a trace of genuine confusion flickered in her violet eyes.
"Aogiri Tree? What are we going there for?"
Her impression of that organization was far from positive.
Hiro lowered his gaze to her and dropped a bombshell in a calm tone.
"Your foster father is at Aogiri Tree now. I will take you to see him, and while we are there... we will also have a look around."
"Oh?" Rize's brow lifted slightly. She did not show much resistance or excitement, only giving a soft, neutral response. "Mm."
She turned her eyes back to the TV, appearing focused, but her thoughts had already drifted far away.
Aogiri Tree. It had originally been one of the organizations scheming to capture her.
Fragments of unpleasant memories flashed through her mind.
However, ever since she had stayed by Hiro's side, the harassment and covetous attention from Aogiri Tree had mysteriously stopped.
Now that she was going there of her own accord, she wondered what kind of amusing expressions those people would show when they saw her appear openly in their headquarters.
At that thought, the corner of Rize's lips curved in an almost imperceptible arc tinged with mischief, and a faint, subtle anticipation arose in her heart.
With the itinerary decided, Hiro did not delay. He took out his phone, found the contact labeled "Annoying Author," and quickly typed a line.
[Send someone to pick us up tomorrow. Prepare a car.]
He tapped send.
Seeing the "sent" prompt appear, he tossed the phone aside casually and returned his attention to the warm softness in his arms and the noisy TV show, as if he had just done something trivial.
...
At the same time, in an Aogiri Tree base.
Yoshimura Eto, or rather the author Takatsuki Sen, was curled up in her chaotic yet luxurious room piled with books and manuscripts.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard. Just as inspiration surged, a sudden message notification cut it off.
She clicked her tongue in annoyance and grabbed the phone, intending to mute it outright, but paused when she saw the sender's name.
"Amano Hiro..." She opened the message. The content was short and direct.
After reading it, the eyes that usually held playful irreverence and weariness instantly lit with interest.
"So you are finally coming..." she murmured. The corners of her lips curled upward uncontrollably into a pleased, calculating smile.
As long as he came, once he stepped onto Aogiri Tree's territory, she would have plenty of opportunities and methods to "entertain" him properly. She might even be able to coax him into her plans.
Thinking of that, Eto's mood brightened. Even the irritation from being interrupted vanished.
She hummed tunelessly in a cheerful mood and typed a rapid reply with her thumb.
[OK~ I'll send someone first thing tomorrow morning. Guaranteed top-tier luxury sedan. Grand enough? (*￣︶￣)]
...
Hiro heard his phone vibrate again and glanced at the screen.
Seeing Eto's reply with the emoticon, he nodded in satisfaction.
He set the phone down, rested his chin on Rize's head again, and refocused on the TV.
The warmth and peace indoors temporarily shut out the deepening night outside and the coming turmoil of tomorrow.
Morning light crept through the curtain gap and climbed onto Hiro's eyelids.
He frowned irritably and instinctively reached to pull the soft warmth in his arms closer, only to grasp empty air.
Groggily opening his eyes, he realized the sun was already high.
He steadied himself and grabbed the phone from the bedside. The moment the screen unlocked, a string of unread notifications and missed-call icons flooded the display like an explosion, the buzzing vibration seeming to echo in his ears.
Hiro raised a brow and opened the messages.
The earliest one was from 8:00 a.m.
[The person I sent has arrived downstairs.]
Hiro glanced at the wall clock pointing to eleven.
Deep inside, a faint, brief flicker of guilt surfaced for about one second like a bubble on water, then popped and vanished.
His face unchanged, he replied:
[Coming down now.]
He then turned to look at Kamishiro Rize still sleeping soundly beside him.
Her long violet hair spread across the pillow, her sleeping face serene, breathing even. She was clearly still immersed in deep dreams.
The recent "night training" intensity had indeed been high. She must be tired.
A hint of a smile passed through Hiro's eyes. He reached out and gently pinched her small nose.
"Mmm..." With her breathing obstructed, Rize let out a dissatisfied murmur. Her long lashes trembled before she reluctantly opened her hazy crimson-violet eyes, full of sleepy confusion and accusation.
Seeing her adorable, slightly aggrieved expression, Hiro's heart softened. He leaned down and lightly pecked her soft lips.
"Time to get up, sleepyhead." His voice carried morning huskiness. "The person here to pick us up... has been waiting downstairs all morning."
Rize still seemed not fully booted up. She only instinctively burrowed closer into his arms and gave a soft nasal reply. "Mm..."
By the time the two actually left the bed and finished washing, dressing, and the rest of the routine, time had slipped mercilessly to noon.
...
At the same time, downstairs outside the apartment.
Beside a black luxury sedan leaned a figure. A black-haired boy whose face was still somewhat youthful, yet now covered in gloom, his eyes fierce as if they wanted to devour someone.
It was Kirishima Ayato.
He kept muttering curses under his breath. "Damn it... bastard Hiro... messing with me? Making me wait this long..."
He raked his already messy black hair in frustration. He had been standing here since eight in the morning. His legs were numb.
During this time he had called Eto countless times, only to get increasingly impatient replies of "wait."
His irritable and strange demeanor naturally drew looks from passersby.
Several grocery-shopping aunties pointed and whispered about him.
"What are you looking at!" Ayato suddenly snapped his head up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, baring his teeth as he shouted, "Scram!"
The vicious glare and blunt hostility startled the pedestrians, who hurried away. But faint words like "lunatic" and "no manners" still pricked his ears like needles.
Crack. Ayato's fists clenched white, veins throbbing at his temples. He felt his sanity teetering on the edge of snapping.
A powerful urge surged up. He wanted to release his kagune right now and shoot those noisy idiots and the dawdling shameless couple upstairs into a honeycomb.
But he could not. Eto's order was "escort," not "exterminate."
So he could only continue pacing in place, mentally hurling ever more vicious curses at the two upstairs.
Every minute and second of waiting deepened his "hatred" for that shameless couple another layer.