Chapter 195: A Bit Hasty
After Kanae handed her newly forged Nichirin Blade over to Kanamori with a polite bow, she immediately turned her steps toward Hotaru Haganezuka's residence. A faint crease formed between her brows. Knowing Akira's track record, she had a sinking suspicion that her lover was already being ruthlessly hunted down by the temperamental swordsmith.
As expected, reality did not disappoint.
Before she even reached the perimeter of the property, a violent gust of wind nearly blew her butterfly hairpin loose. Two blurs sprinted past her in quick succession. Akira was in the lead, kicking up a heavy trail of dust, while a furious Haganezuka chased right on his heels, brandishing a blade with absolute murderous intent.
Accompanied by the rushing wind, fragmented shouts reached Kanae's ears.
"I was doing it to contribute to the greater cause of slaying demons!" Akira's voice echoed back, laced with breathless exasperation.
"You have to believe me! I really didn't mean to use the Nichirin Blade to chop down trees!" He ducked fluidly under a wild, decapitating swing. "Besides, this thing isn't even as good as a woodcutter's axe for chopping wood..."
Even though Akira had lowered his voice for that last muttered complaint, the relentlessly pursuing swordsmith still caught it.
"You dare say my masterpiece is unfit for use?!" Haganezuka roared, the veins on his neck bulging against his mask. "That is an unforgivable sin! Go to hell!"
Kanae let out a soft, helpless sigh. She watched Akira expertly maintain a consistent distance—just enough to keep the enraged swordsmith baited without actually getting skewered. Turning on her heel, she approached a nearby villager to borrow their kitchen.
According to Akira, if Haganezuka ever went completely berserk, there was only one thing that could pull him back from the brink of murder: mitarashi dango, a traditional snack with a rich, sweet and savory flavor. Akira had only discovered this crucial piece of intel the last time he was hunted through the village. As he had dryly noted to Kanae afterward: When death approaches, the revolving lantern of your life really does flash before your eyes—your brain frantically flipping through every memory just to find a way to survive.
The recipe was simple, and Kanae was already well-versed in making it.
Back at the Butterfly Mansion, she didn't usually need to handle the daily cooking, but she cherished the moments when she could prepare meals for her family. To her, the act of cooking and sharing a meal was the true essence of a home. Of course, with the mansion's growing numbers—and two particular household members possessing bottomless, black-hole appetites—she couldn't handle every meal alone. Under her influence, Makomo and the other girls often pitched in, and even Akira would occasionally roll up his sleeves to help.
When Akira had sprinted past her moments ago, he had flashed a subtle hand signal. It was their unspoken code for Plan B.
After finding a willing homeowner and a well-stocked kitchen, Kanae tied back her hair and got to work. She kneaded the glutinous rice flour with warm water, forming a smooth, non-sticky dough. She rolled them into perfectly round, medium-sized dumplings, dropped them into boiling water for exactly two minutes, and then immediately plunged them into an ice-cold bath. The sudden temperature drop prevented them from sticking and gave them a delightfully springy texture. Finally, she drizzled a thick, glossy glaze made from sugar and light soy sauce over the top.
There was no time to pan-fry or lightly grill them for that extra smoky aroma. Akira had already led the enraged swordsmith in two massive laps around the village perimeter, buying her time. Thanking the homeowner, Kanae hurried out with two freshly made skewers.
Akira, whose sharp eyes had been tracking her location the entire time, immediately pivoted and steered his pursuer in her direction. As he closed the distance, he snatched the skewers from Kanae's outstretched hand, slammed his heels into the dirt to brake, and spun around. He thrust the sweet-smelling dango directly into Haganezuka's face, forcing the masked man into a screeching emergency stop.
Haganezuka's chest heaved. He had chased Akira purely to vent his explosive rage, but his rationality was rapidly returning, hijacked by the irresistible aroma of his favorite food.
"Freshly made mitarashi dango, still warm," Akira said, his tone perfectly casual as he waved the skewers slightly. "Won't Haganezuka-san have a taste while it's hot?"
"Hmph! I'll let you off this time." Haganezuka snatched the skewers, stomped over to a nearby stone step, and sat down to eat.
The chase had exhausted him, and with his rationality restored, he realized Akira had been effortlessly baiting him the entire time anyway. Continuing the hunt would be pointless.
"Mmm..." Haganezuka chewed, his masked face tilting up in bliss. "The texture is springy and smooth without sticking to the teeth. The sweet and savory balance is absolute perfection, without the flavors clashing at all. A masterful dango!"
Akira twitched his lips. Even though he was the one who caused the mess, watching another man thoroughly enjoy snacks lovingly handmade by Kanae rubbed him the wrong way. Listen to this guy rhyming his food critiques, Akira muttered internally. What is he, a culinary scholar?
"Akira-kun, I prepared a portion for you too."
Kanae stepped up beside him, handing over a third skewer. Her warm, violet eyes crinkled with a doting smile. Sometimes, her fiercely protective lover could be as petty as a child. She had anticipated his jealousy and planned accordingly.
"I knew it. Kanae is the absolute best." For a brief second, Akira's mind conjured the imaginary, pouting stares of the other girls back home, prompting him to mentally add: You are all the best.
The lingering irritation vanished from his chest. Taking the skewer, he leaned in and caught Kanae completely off guard, pressing a firm, affectionate kiss to her cheek.
Kanae gasped softly, a brilliant flush spreading across her face. Highly satisfied, Akira took a bite of his snack. The unique fragrance of the glutinous rice bloomed on his tongue, perfectly complemented by the rich glaze. It was soft, springy, and utterly delicious—far superior to the batches he had requested from the Butterfly Mansion's kitchen in the past. Now he understood why Haganezuka was so obsessed.
Smiling, Akira held his half-eaten dango up to Kanae's lips. Her cheeks, already burning red, darkened by several shades.
The commotion had drawn quite a crowd. The villagers of the Swordsmith Village were entirely used to Haganezuka's violent outbursts, which meant they treated it as prime local entertainment. Dozens of eyes peeked out from windows and alleyways, eager for the drama. Kanae could feel their stares. She wasn't a stranger to intimacy, but public displays still made her terribly shy.
Still, she couldn't resist Akira's gentle, expectant gaze. Leaning forward, she took a small, dainty bite of the dango. As someone who loved to cook, tasting her own successful dish was a joy in itself—but sharing it like this with the man she loved made it infinitely sweeter. Besides, back at the Butterfly Mansion, she had grown somewhat accustomed to the intensely sour, envious stares of the recovering Medical Department patients whenever Akira doted on her.
Meanwhile, Haganezuka had silently turned around on his stone step. He continued chewing his dango with his back firmly presented to the lovey-dovey couple.
Suddenly, the perfect sweet-and-savory snack tasted a little like sawdust.
Dammit, the perpetually single swordsmith grumbled internally. I didn't sign up to watch this.
Akira merely smirked around his next bite.
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