"Hoo..."
Senjumaru Shutara leaned back in her chair, letting out a long, satisfied sigh. The plate in front of her had been cleared away, not a single grain of rice left—only a thin sheen of oil remained.
She was in a great mood.
The minor disagreement she'd had with her junior was long forgotten, and her impression of Masatsuki Aozaki had skyrocketed.
"Cooking is such a trivial matter, hardly a challenge for someone like me!" she declared smugly.
However, before she could finish boasting, Masatsuki Aozaki mercilessly interjected:
"Before you go spouting nonsense, at least wipe your mouth first, you shameless senior."
"Ugh..."
Senjumaru's face turned bright red, and she awkwardly glanced around in search of a tissue.
Toilet paper had existed since the last century. Clearly, despite the Soul King Palace floating high above the world, it hadn't fallen behind the times.
And at that moment, a bold thought suddenly crossed Masatsuki Aozaki's mind.
If he were to voice it aloud, it might even sound a bit excessive.
Senjumaru Shutara was, in every way, an impeccable beauty. Apart from her tendency to put on the airs of a serious senior—sometimes to a ridiculous extent—she was practically perfect.
Although, because she often acted so embarrassingly, Masatsuki sometimes overlooked her good qualities...
But looking at it from another angle—
Senjumaru had spied on him multiple times in Seireitei.
She had even used her overwhelming strength to force him into modeling for her, seeing him from every possible angle.
So why should he always be the one giving?
It wouldn't be too much to ask for some compensation—plus interest.
After all, his services didn't come cheap. Just ask the noble ladies.
Senjumaru hadn't paid him back in any way all this time, likely because she simply couldn't afford it.
Which meant she had only one way to settle this debt—herself.
In other words, Senjumaru Shutara now rightfully belonged to Masatsuki Aozaki.
(Senjumaru Shutara: Huh???)
"Hey, Senjumaru-senpai," Masatsuki called out.
"W-what is it, Masatsuki?"
Hearing her junior's voice, Senjumaru quickly straightened up, responding with an air of dignity.
Not that there was any trace of seniority left in her demeanor.
At that moment, Masatsuki leaned in closer, slipping a hand through Senjumaru's long, dark hair.
Feeling the familiar warmth of his breath, Senjumaru's heartbeat quickened.
What should she do?
She could sense that something was about to happen.
Masatsuki cupped the back of her head with one hand, staring at her for a brief moment.
Then, he kissed her.
His lips pressed against Senjumaru's soft, invitingly glossy ones.
"!!!"
The Zero Division member—an elite warrior—had been caught so off guard that she forgot to breathe. Her wide eyes stared at Masatsuki in utter disbelief.
The moment his lips touched hers, her mind went blank, her body frozen in place.
Her heart pounded with shock and confusion, unable to process this sudden development.
Meanwhile, Masatsuki simply indulged in the moment, taking in the warmth of her lips and the gentle rhythm of her breath.
Time seemed to stand still.
But faced with Senjumaru's lack of resistance, Masatsuki's advances did not stop.
He deepened the kiss, savoring the softness of her lips, brushing against her delicate teeth—then going even further.
Right now, Masatsuki was more amused than anything.
This woman, who had been single for a thousand years—her first kiss tasted like omelette rice.
What kind of memory would that leave her with?
Only when Masatsuki was fully satisfied did he finally let go.
Gazing at Senjumaru's completely dazed expression, he casually wiped his lips with a tissue.
"It tastes pretty good, Senpai."
"?!?!"
Senjumaru Shutara froze as if struck by lightning, her entire body trembling violently before she finally snapped out of it, as though waking from a dream.
But to Masatsuki Aozaki's surprise, she didn't react with the shouting or fury he had expected.
Instead, she swiftly stood up, her expression unnervingly calm.
Then, without hesitation, she lifted her skirt slightly with both hands—
And bolted.
Masatsuki watched in admiration as she fled with remarkable grace, expertly controlling her strength to avoid damaging the door on her way out.
Truly a reliable senior.
Senjumaru sprinted through the corridors at full speed.
Her figure flashed past every bend and corner like a streak of lightning, racing up and down several flights of stairs until she finally reached the safety of her own quarters.
As soon as she stepped inside, she slammed the door shut behind her with a loud thud.
Leaning against the wall, her body trembled slightly.
Then, her long, slender frame slowly slid down until she was sitting on the floor.
She pressed both hands tightly over her mouth, as if trying to stop the impossible words from escaping.
My lips... just now... Masatsuki-chan...
A chaotic flood of emotions surged through her mind like an unstoppable tide, drowning out all coherent thought.
At this moment, she couldn't care less about maintaining her image.
The ever-composed and dependable Senjumaru Shutara was now rolling on the floor like a distressed child, barely resisting the urge to smash her forehead against the walls and support beams.
And yet—
Despite everything—
Senjumaru realized something strange.
There was no anger. No resentment. No disgust toward Masatsuki Aozaki.
After all, he had given her plenty of time to escape.
And yet, she had stayed.
She had let it happen.
Even she was shocked by that.
A kiss had been stolen from her, her thousand-year solitude broken in an instant—
And yet, deep inside, there wasn't a shred of resistance.
The sensation was too bizarre. So bizarre that she had no idea how to process it.
Even when men had bared their hearts to her in the past, she had never felt like this.
But the reality was undeniable.
Her emotions were overwhelming. And yet—none of them were negative.
Even if she couldn't quite explain what this feeling was—
She knew, without a doubt, that it wasn't disgust. It wasn't rejection.
"What the hell is wrong with me?!"
Senjumaru clutched at her racing heart, her body burning as she replayed the memory over and over.
Then, suddenly, a horrifying realization struck her.
"No... No way."
"He's just a little good at cooking. Just has a slightly charming smile. He's only sometimes gentle and considerate. And okay, maybe he's occasionally a bit too captivating to look away from—"
She shook her head fiercely.
There was no way.
That little brat couldn't be her type.
Something had to be wrong.
It must have just caught her off guard!
Yes, that had to be it.
If it happened again—
If it happened again, she would definitely dodge.
At least, that's what Senjumaru Shutara told herself.