The Next Day.
Ren slowly woke from his deep sleep, stretching lazily as a long sigh escaped his lips, followed by the tightening and relaxing of his stiff muscles. A faint heaviness lingered in his head—leftover fragments of the thoughts that had swarmed him the night before. He quickly steadied himself and made his way to the bathroom for a shower, leaving behind the warmth of the bed and the cool silence that filled the room.
At first, he had intended to bring Amagi along—to keep her close and assist him—but after some thought, he decided to leave her with Akiko. He trusted her, and her ability to protect Saki. The weight pressing on his chest wasn't worry for himself, but for them. As for his own family, he felt no concern at all. With Isshin and Ichigo around, they were safe. Even Karin and Yuzu had begun learning how to control and wield the powers inherited from their parents, which gave him a deeper sense of reassurance.
Now, the only one he had to take care of was himself. Amagi's absence wasn't much of a problem—except for one simple but important matter: food. Ren had never been skilled at cooking; he didn't have the slightest talent in the kitchen. But fortune had smiled on him the previous night. Mahiru, the girl he had saved from being killed by Freed, had proven to be a talented cook. Dinner had been rich in flavor, warm—almost as if it had restored a bit of the homely comfort he hadn't felt in ages.
Ren rose from bed, absently rubbing his firm stomach before yawning lazily and heading toward the door. The moment he opened it, he was greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of food drifting from the kitchen—a warm, delicious scent that filled the air like a morning breeze laced with life's gentle joy. That scent alone was enough to banish the last remnants of sleep from his body and unconsciously hasten his steps toward the kitchen. He already knew this morning would begin with a completely different taste.
"Oh~ right, I gave her a spare key yesterday when we talked about breakfast…" Ren muttered to himself, pausing briefly before continuing forward—until Mahiru's figure came into view in the open kitchen.
Shiina Mahiru stood there quietly, her movements as fluid as flowing water. Silky blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders with natural grace, shimmering softly under the morning light seeping through the small window. She wore a simple light-colored apron over her clothes, giving her both a homely and elegant appearance.
Her delicate features seemed even more radiant in that moment, her fair skin glowing faintly under the touch of sunlight, as though painted by a careful hand. Her honey-colored eyes were focused on the pan before her—a calm blend of seriousness and serenity—as if she had poured her heart into every dish she made.
Her slender hands moved deftly, stirring the vegetables and adding spices in graceful, practiced motions that carried a gentle warmth. Steam rose from the pot before her, swirling around her body like a soft mist, making her look almost ethereal—like a small kitchen spirit born from morning light and warmth.
A faint smile played on her lips each time the rich scent of food filled the air. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead from the stove's heat, but instead of diminishing her beauty, they added to her natural glow—like the fire before her had kindled a quiet warmth within her expression.
In that moment, Mahiru wasn't just a girl cooking breakfast—she was a serene presence breathing life into the space, turning the kitchen into a small sanctuary of comfort and calm. Each dish she made seemed to carry a silent promise of warmth and safety.
"…" Ren stared at her for a moment, feeling the blood rush to his head. But he quickly regained control, not allowing his thoughts to wander where they shouldn't.
"Good morning!" Mahiru chimed cheerfully. Her bright, melodic voice echoed in his chest like a soft tune that awakened something dormant inside him.
Ren gave a faint half-smile, lifting a hand in casual greeting as his rough, sleep-heavy voice replied:
"Morning… smells amazing."
Mahiru turned toward him, her honey-colored eyes lighting up with a soft smile. She lifted the spoon playfully and said:
"Then sit tight and wait a bit. Breakfast is almost ready."
"No need to rush. I'll take a quick shower first," Ren said, walking toward the bathroom—he definitely needed to cool off, both his body and his thoughts.
Inside, the sound of rushing water filled the air as steam quickly enveloped the room. He stripped off his clothes without hesitation and stepped under the stream of hot water. It cascaded down his toned body, washing away not just the remnants of sleep, but the restless thoughts that had been brewing in his mind since seeing Mahiru in the kitchen.
He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling deeply—but his thoughts didn't quiet down. They drifted back to her: the curve of her waist as she moved between the stove and counter, the way her golden hair brushed her shoulders, and the gentle tone of her voice when she greeted him. The memory burned in his mind, igniting a familiar, undeniable spark.
Ren chuckled softly, running a hand over his face as warm water poured over him.
"… Damn, I'm so weak against beauty."
There was no regret in his tone, nor any hint of restraint. He wasn't the kind of man who chained himself with false morals. Desire, to him, wasn't sin—it was simply a truth of life, one he met with calm acceptance. Yet, he wasn't the kind to force a woman's hand either. His pleasure came from choice—from the thrill of being wanted in return.
The water continued to flow over his shoulders and chest as he thought of Mahiru again. How would her face look if he teased her a little more? If he closed the distance between them? Would she fluster? Step back? Or would she let herself be drawn in?
A quiet laugh escaped his lips as he opened his eyes and ran his fingers through his wet hair.
"At least… this morning won't be boring."
He finished his shower and dressed in his simple uniform—black trousers, a white undershirt, and a neat black jacket. The faint scent of soap clung to his skin as droplets of water slid down from his still-damp hair. Each step toward the kitchen was measured, calm. He'd already decided—he wouldn't deny what he felt, but he wouldn't rush it either. Desire, after all, was a fire he knew how to keep burning without letting it consume him.
Mahiru had already set the small table in the living room, arranging elegant dishes and glasses filled with fresh juice. Everything was neatly placed with surprising precision—as if this wasn't just breakfast, but a quiet ritual marking the true beginning of the day.
She looked up at him with a bright smile. There was a faint trace of fatigue in her expression from the kitchen work, but it only added to her gentle warmth.
"Welcome back. Sit down before it gets cold," she said lightly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
Ren sat down silently at first, his eyes wandering over the dishes before him. Something within him stirred—a quiet realization that he'd always eaten alone, in haste, without warmth or meaning. But today felt different. And that difference alone left a mark.
"… Thank you, Mahiru," he said softly, his voice low but genuine, as he reached for the plate.
Mahiru smiled again, that same warm smile that had brought life to the kitchen earlier.
"No need to thank me. Just seeing you eat comfortably is enough."
Ren watched her for a moment as she moved gracefully, placing the last piece of bread in the basket. Her golden hair swayed gently with each motion, the morning light making her seem almost luminous.
A faint smirk curved his lips. His gaze wasn't one of passing admiration—it carried weight. The kind of look from a man who viewed beauty as something to savor, not to worship. He wasn't one to hide his interest behind innocence, nor did he see any reason to.
Lifting his glass, he took a slow sip of juice before speaking in a tone laced with quiet amusement.
"Looks like I'm luckier than I thought… A beautiful girl in my kitchen, making me breakfast like we're… a small family."
Mahiru's cheeks flushed slightly. She lifted her gaze at him, startled, but quickly regained her composure, forcing a small smile.
"You're exaggerating… I just wanted to return the favor."
Ren chuckled softly, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand, his eyes never leaving her.
"Return the favor, huh? If this is your way of saying thanks… I can't help but wonder what you'd do if you wanted to go a little further."
Mahiru froze for a heartbeat, her hand pausing midair as she reached for a spoon. Then, she tried to regain her calm, speaking quietly:
"You really… don't know how to joke properly."
Ren only smiled wider, taking a bite of bread without another word. There was no insistence in his tone, no pressure in his demeanor—just the natural ease of a man whose mere presence set the rhythm of the room.
To him, Mahiru was simply a new page in a long book of encounters—but even so, he wasn't the kind to take the next step unless she was the one who allowed it.
...
To get more chapters please visit my p@treon :
[email protected]/Akasaki_Ryujin
For support :
https://ko-fi.com/akasaki_ryujin