"My husband—what are you making?"
"Breakfast."
"I've never seen it before."
"You've never even seen dumpling?" Shichen looked at Mukuro in surprise.
It was breakfast ti, and Shichen hadn't expected Mukuro to be the first one up.
But considering how clingy she'd been yesterday, it made sense.
Ever since he brought Mukuro down to Earth, she'd been completely different from her earlier coldness—extra affectionate, practically unwilling to let him out of her sight.
With her emotions freshly restored, she'd basically taken Shichen's declaration as a confession, accepted it on the spot, and in her mind they were already as good as an engaged couple.
She was clingy to an extre, which naturally made Tohka and the others unhappy—but at the sa ti, they also wanted to take care of the newcor and help her fit in.
"Dumplings… so this is it? I've heard of it." Mukuro stepped up beside him and studied the buns he'd wrapped.
Lately, Shichen had been into making buns. Real ingredients, handmade, cooked with sacred fla—there was no way they could taste bad.
And his fillings were downright extravagant: shrimp, crab, beef… the works.
Stead with sacred fla, the buns ca out soft and springy, with juicy filling that made it hard to stop at just one.
Even Tohka couldn't resist—and even though she tried to act composed, the others weren't much better.
(Shichen had learned the hard way that whenever he made buns, soone would inevitably end up with a happily rounded belly.)
"Then you can look forward to it," Shichen said with a smile. "It's really good."
Mukuro was wearing a pale-yellow nightdress. Even with the loose fabric, you could still tell her silhouette was… hard to miss.
More striking than anything, though, was her dazzling golden hair—so long it nearly brushed the floor—plus the two bun-like knots she still had tied up, like she'd gone to sleep without bothering to undo her hair.
"Since my husband made them by hand, I'm looking forward to it," Mukuro said, naturally hooking onto his arm.
Shichen raised an eyebrow.
Even after yesterday, that kind of closeness still caught him off guard.
Mukuro's "youthful face, mature figure" vibe was practically her signature.
"You're holding on too tight," Shichen warned. "I can't wrap buns like this."
"What does it matter? This is proof of our love," Mukuro said, completely unbothered.
"…Then do you still want dumplings or not?"
"…That…"
"There's plenty of ti," Shichen said gently, looking at her. "We'll be together for a long ti. You don't have to rush everything."
"A long ti… is that truly what you an?" Mukuro asked quietly.
"I'm not lying." Shichen nodded, smiling.
"I understand." Mukuro smiled softly and finally let him go.
No more clingy pressure—aning he could actually work again, which was a win.
Shichen went back to wrapping buns.
Mukuro didn't leave. She just stood beside him, watching him work.
Since it felt too quiet, Shichen started a conversation while his hands kept moving. "Mukuro, you seed really hung up on the 'always together' part just now. Did sothing co back to you?"
"…No. But my heart feels… strange." Mukuro pressed a hand to her chest and shook her head.
"Yeah?" Shichen soothed, keeping his tone light. "Don't worry about it. Even if you don't rember things yet, that's fine. We can make new mories from scratch."
Mukuro had sealed away her past, so she didn't even know why she'd locked her feelings and drifted alone in space in the first place.
Shichen did know, but he didn't want to push her into it too fast—forcing those mories back could destabilize her.
Better to let her settle into daily life first.
"My husband… you won't let unseal my mories right away?" Mukuro asked, puzzled.
"Not yet." Shichen smiled. "We finally got close. I don't want outside reasons ssing with that. Let's spend more ti together first."
"So my husband is selfish~" Mukuro laughed—not accusing him, just genuinely amused and happy.
"If my husband likes that much, then I'll stay with you more."
As she spoke, she hugged his arm again—this ti even tighter.
"…You're hugging again?"
"This is my reply to your love," Mukuro said with a bright, teasing smile.
"I seriously can't wrap buns now."
"Then like this~" Mukuro let go, moved behind him, and wrapped both arms around his waist instead.
That was… even more distracting.
Shichen let out a helpless laugh. "Fine. Do what you want."
Weirdly, even with Mukuro "interfering," Shichen's pace got faster. He finished wrapping everything, got the stear going, and soon the aroma spread through the kitchen and drifted into the living room.
"My husband… it slls wonderful." Mukuro hugged him from behind and breathed in deeply.
"Right? When they're done, eat as much as you want."
"I'm not a foodie," Mukuro huffed, pretending to be offended.
"Oooh, that slls amazing!" A lively voice bounced into the kitchen, and a purple-haired figure ran in.
"Tohka, morning."
"Morning, Shichen! It slls so good!"
"You wake up and imdiately think about eating, huh?" Shichen sighed.
"Hehe—because your food slls too good… Morning, Mukuro."
"Hm. Good morning." Mukuro nodded.
"…Why are you hugging Shichen first thing in the morning?" Tohka frowned the mont she saw them.
"Is there an issue? My husband and I are deeply in love. This is simply normal bonding," Mukuro said calmly.
"Yeah, but you can't just—" Tohka started, then got stuck.
Nia had warned them: Mukuro got jealous easily and had a strong possessive streak—don't provoke her too hard.
Tohka didn't like it at all, but she also wanted Mukuro to fit in smoothly, so she tried to swallow it.
"Is sothing wrong, Tohka?" Mukuro tilted her head.
"N-No…"
"No?"
"I can't take it!" Tohka blurted—and lunged forward, hugging Shichen from the front.
Now Shichen was sandwiched between them.
A warm, sweet scent. Two different kinds of closeness. Two people tugging on him from both sides…
He wasn't suffering in the slightest.
"No guy is going to complain about this," Shichen thought, very wisely keeping his mouth shut.
"What are you doing? Don't hug my husband!" Mukuro tightened her hold around Shichen's waist and pulled back.
"Shichen isn't yours!" Tohka hugged tighter and pulled the other way.
Their strength was weirdly even. Shichen didn't budge—he just stood there, caught in a stalemate.
"My husband is my husband!"
"No, he isn't!"
"He is!"
"He isn't!"
Shichen quietly swayed in place and didn't stop them.
It was, objectively, an extrely blessed problem.
And in the middle of all that arguing, the noise finally woke the others.
"Doing what, exactly, this early in the morning?" Sawa stumbled out of Shichen's room, white hair loose, yawning.
Right behind her ca Origami, also sleepy-eyed—but with cheeks that were suspiciously pink.
Last night, those two had been with Shichen.
How, exactly, they'd "kept him company" didn't need to be spelled out. The only honest summary was: they'd had a very… intense night.
Shichen hadn't actually slept—he'd gone straight from that to making breakfast.
And sohow, despite staying up all night, he still looked completely fine.
"Shichen…" Origami's eyes sharpened the mont she fully processed the situation, and she walked over to claim one of his arms.
Not quite the sa "presence" as Mukuro, but definitely not small enough to be ignored either—Shichen wasn't picky.
"Origami? You too?" Tohka shot her a glare.
"You can, so why can't I?" Origami replied evenly.
"This is between and Mukuro!"
"Correct. Please do not disturb my husband and ," Mukuro added.
"No. Shichen is also mine," Origami said, refusing to yield.
"Shichen isn't—wait." Tohka sniffed, then narrowed her eyes at Origami. "Why does your breath sll… weird? Like seafood. Like squid."
"…" Origami imdiately went silent.
Sawa, hearing that, breathed into her hand and slled her own breath too, then sighed.
Yeah. That was obvious.
"…Alright," Sawa muttered. "I'm not watching this. I'm brushing my teeth."
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