"Maki-kun, dinner's ready—can you go call Mashiro-nee?"
Just after he'd confirmed tomorrow's meeting with Senpai, the angelic voice of Mahiru drifted in from the doorway.
"Got it—one sec, I'll fetch her."
He headed to the next room—didn't bother knocking, just pushed the door open. As her "keeper," that was his prerogative. Who knocks before entering a pet's room?
The moment he stepped in, he saw Mashiro instinctively hide something behind her back. A smudge of Baumkuchen clung to the corner of her lips.
"Mashiro, sneaking more Baumkuchen? Come on—we're about to have dinner and you're still packing in sweets."
Since she'd been caught, she pulled the freshly opened cake from behind her back and argued, "Hayashi Maki said so."
"You said when Mashiro gets hungry drawing, she can eat Baumkuchen."
He winced. He had said that—but it was supposed to be after dinner. If she stuffed herself with cakes now, she wouldn't eat a proper meal later.
Pinching her cheek, he couldn't help giving the lecture: "I did say that, but the premise is you've already eaten dinner."
"Mashiro only needs Baumkuchen. Dinner—Hayashi Maki can eat for me."
"I can't keep eating for you. Sweets alone ramp up stomach acid—bad for your health. Look at you, so slender. Don't you want to be as gorgeous as Mahiru, with that figure?"
He tried dangling Mahiru's knockout proportions as bait.
Mashiro nodded. "I do."
Hook, line, sinker. If she looked more like Mahiru, her keeper would surely dote on her even more.
"In that case, come eat with me. Even a little is good. Just don't skip it."
"Hayashi Maki is so naggy!" She puffed her cheeks, clearly not wanting dinner, flipping it back on him.
"I nag because I care. Would any stranger bother?" he retorted, taking her hand and leading her out. She didn't resist—let herself be seated obediently.
Dinner was a balanced three-dishes-and-a-soup, colorful and appetizing under Mahiru's touch.
"Thanks for the meal!"
Hayashi Maki tucked into Mahiru's home cooking with relish. Seeing him eat so happily, Mahiru's mood lifted—there's no better encouragement for a girl who loves homemaking.
Mashiro took a few bites, then stared at Mahiru.
"What is it, Mashiro-nee?"
"I can't eat anymore."
A vein popped on Mahiru's forehead. "Oh? My cooking doesn't suit your taste? Then tell me—what do you eat in the UK? I'll try to make what you like next time."
Mashiro, sensing danger, gave a tiny shiver. Her pet instincts and survival drive kicked in: "Mahiru's cooking is delicious. It's just… I ate Baumkuchen earlier. I'm not very hungry."
"Maki-kun!" Mahiru shot him a look—she'd guessed he'd bought the cakes.
He gave a sheepish smile. Don't look at me like that—if you had picked her up and seen those puppy-dog eyes at the cake shelf, you'd have bought some too.
Mahiru sighed. "We don't waste food. Since it's your fault Mashiro-nee can't finish, you can take responsibility and eat what's left."
She hadn't given up on the "fatten up Maki-kun" plan. With Mashiro here, maybe it would finally work. As far as she knew, apart from being a demon, he wasn't much different from a human—he got hungry, and had human needs. As her demonic familiar she was superhumanly durable and could heal, but in daily life she was the same as before.
At her words, Mashiro slid her bowl toward him with big pleading eyes. Hayashi Maki rolled his. "Don't tell me you planned to make me eat your leftovers."
"No. I just can't finish," she said matter-of-factly, then added, "Mahiru said no wasting food."
He didn't argue—dumped her rice into his own bowl and kept going.
And whose fault was it there might have been waste? Mashiro showed no signs of reflection…
After dinner, house-proud Mahiru tied on an apron and headed for the sink. When Hayashi Maki tried to help, she shooed him out of the kitchen. Spoiled like this, he felt a little like a pet himself—just like Mashiro.
He watched her fondly for a moment, then went back to his room to "play." If the angel wouldn't let him help, he'd obey.
He ran a few dungeons with "Ako-wife," then dove into the latest event with Gabriel. So… one day of part-time work and she'd earned enough for food? He didn't know she'd stocked up on instant noodles. They fill the belly but offer little nutrition—but as an angel she wouldn't starve, just slide deeper into sloth.
For a top Angel Academy graduate, this was… something. Meanwhile the white-haired, busty Raphiel—per Satania—was rooming with her now. That black-bellied angel moves fast, he thought. No big deal; Raphiel liked to tease Satania, but she wasn't bad—just a spectator who loved chaos.
Done gaming, Hayashi Maki shut the laptop. He wasn't writing the magical-girl LN for Ojou-sama Nagi tonight. Games really did sap the will.
Sighing about being a natural couch potato, he heard the door swing open. In the doorway stood Mashiro—damp golden hair clinging to snow-white skin.
His eyes went wide. "Mashiro—w-why are you naked?"
It was as if "holy light" had been applied—but obviously not. As a demon, his eyesight was excellent; he could see the fine down on Mahiru's skin—so the dewy sheen of Mashiro's was even more startling.
Mashiro, indeed, was Mashiro.
~~~
For Every 100 Powerstone = 1 Bonus Chapter! Please Vote for more Chapters! Thank you! You can read more on my Patreon Page!
Patreon(.)com/Bleam
— Currently You can Read 220+ Chapters Ahead of Others!