Chapter 151 Lady, Fight!
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
After finishing the restaurant’s interior, Tatara headed toward the arena’s main attraction—the battle stage. Watching workers struggle to prepare the surrounding spectator seats, he couldn’t help thinking that, with only a few days left before the city festival, progress was painfully slow.
”T-Tatara-han, what’re ya starin’ at over there?” asked the Merchant Guild Master, his Kansai lilt easy and familiar.
”No, it’s just… things seem a little behind schedule,” Tatara admitted, scratching his cheek.
He worried it might sound rude, but the guild master only chuckled shyly. “Haah, figures you’d see it that way, Tatara-han.”
”Well, I do realize it’s unfair to compare it to when I built this whole arena in a day,” Tatara said, sheepishly.
”Fair enough. Still, truth be told, we’re way slower than we planned to be.”
Apparently, even the guild master was aware of the problem. With less than a quarter of the seats ready and the festival nearly upon them, they were badly off pace.
”Not enough seats, I take it?” Tatara asked.
”Right. We’ve been busy finishin’ the kitchen gear and café fixtures—nothin’s done on time.”
”Ah… sorry about that.”
Tatara winced. The delay was probably his fault; he’d left the restaurant design undecided until the last moment. Then again, building and operating a venue this big without a multi-year plan was absurd to begin with.
”Are you short on chairs themselves, or people to make them?”
”Both, honestly. We’re runnin’ outta crafters.”
”So, if we had, say, two hundred more crafters, that’d solve it?”
”Well sure, but there’s no way we can—Tatara-han?”
Mass deployment was his specialty. Without hesitation, Tatara opened his Inventory and summoned every golem he owned.
The guild master’s face stiffened as a small army of constructs materialized, crowding the field. “You got… more of ’em than before, huh?”
Standing in orderly ranks before him, the golems waited silently for their command. Tatara inhaled, straightened his back, and bellowed:
”Today marks your graduation! From this moment on, you are not mere golems—you are true crafters! How does that feel!?”
’Taー! Tarattaー!!’
The guild master and Tatara’s father-in-law exchanged bewildered looks.
”Tatara-han?”
”Tatara-dono?”
But Tatara ignored their confusion, his enthusiasm climbing.
”Today you face your trial! You’ll gain everything—or lose it all! Are you ready!?”
’Taー! Tarattaー!!’
’Lose it!?’
Their alarmed cries went unnoticed as Tatara roared again, “What’s your specialty!?”
’Taー! Taー! Taー!’
”What do you love to do!?”
’Taー! Taー! Taー!’
”Will you ever cut corners? Do you carry the soul of a true craftsman!?”
’Tattaー! Tattaー! Tattaー!’
”Then prepare for production!”
’Taaー!!’
By now, everyone in the arena had stopped working to stare. Mouths hung open, eyes wide. Tatara sighed inwardly—oh right, normal golems didn’t talk. No wonder they were shocked.
He turned back to the guild master. “That should handle the labor shortage.”
”Wait, hold on now, Tatara-han—”
”Each of these golems carries the [Crafting] skill,” Tatara continued, unbothered. “Two hundred and one in total. Please use them as needed.”
The guild master pressed a hand to his forehead. “My brain’s… tryin’ real hard to catch up.”
His father-in-law patted his shoulder kindly, a gesture of shared sympathy. Tatara couldn’t quite tell which of them looked more overwhelmed.
Out of fifteen hundred seats planned, the golems completed the remaining thousand-plus in under ten minutes. The staff barely kept up with materials as the constructs blurred through their tasks.
While they worked, Tatara focused on refining the battlefield area. No fences—he preferred an open space—but he wove a mithril net to catch any fighters thrown out of the ring. Then came camera placement: four enchanted poles at the corners, each marked with Spell Formula for [Telepathy]. He synchronized them with ceiling monitors for real-time display and tested them using his construct Gladiolus. The image came through perfectly, though he wasn’t satisfied yet.
He added eight more overhead cameras for wide angles, each with zoom and pan functions. Tracking spells would’ve made it easier, but fairness demanded manual control. The mounts could move, at least; now all they needed were cameramen with steady hands.
He called over his miniature assistant—Little Tatara—to visualize the camera choreography and direct the golems accordingly. Next came stage lighting: spotlights enchanted to follow performers, linked to the camera network for dynamic presentation.
”Father-in-law, could you enter through that gate for a moment?” Tatara asked.
The older man nodded and strode in with dignified confidence. Tatara adjusted the lights and checked the feed. When the recording ended, he showed the playback.
”Hmm. Quite splendid, if I say so myself.”
”I’m sure Mother-in-law will fall for you all over again when she sees this,” Tatara teased.
”Hah! You flatterer,” the old man chuckled, elbowing him good-naturedly. The guild master looked utterly lost.
Tatara moved on to sound. He crafted speakers and microphones using Spell Formula for [Amplify] and [Telepathy], arranging them across the arena.
”Aaah, testing, testing—clear skies today, clear skies today. Red dragon, blue beetle, a-i-u-e-o…”
As he checked the mic, the idle golems gathered, curious. He handed out extras for fun—and instantly regretted it.
”Tararararara tarararara tarararara!”
”Ta-ta-tarattattattattaratta taaー!”
”Ta-rara ta-rara!”
”Tatara tatatatatatat!”
’Taa-taa-taa-ta-taa-tara-ta-ta-taraーtaraーtaraーtararararaー’
It was unmistakably the theme from that space-unicorn anime. Where on earth had they learned it?
”How… grand and mysterious a melody,” the father-in-law mused. “Is such music popular in your world?”
”Well, uh, it does fit the instruments we use here, so… not wrong,” Tatara hedged.
The guild master tilted his head, baffled but intrigued.
”So then, Tatara-han,” he asked slowly, “what exactly are ya plannin’ to do with these speakers?”
Ah, so neither the guild master nor my father-in-law had caught on. Best way to explain? Let them experience it.
”All right then,” Tatara said, lifting the mic. “Father-in-law, please use the same gate as before. Guild master, you’ll enter from the opposite one. Listen for my cue and enter on signal.”
Both men exchanged suspicious glances but obeyed, disappearing behind their respective gates.
He took a breath, pressed the mic close, and announced in a booming voice, “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome—and thank you for joining us at the Whirlwind Arena!”
His voice echoed through the hall. Confidence was key; stumble or hesitate and the illusion would shatter. He kept going, strong and theatrical.
”Today marks a first in history—a duel of [TelekinesisArmorAarem] units!”
That line caught everyone’s attention. Workers dropped tools, drifting closer. Even those outside the arena peeked in to see what the fuss was about.
Good. Draw them in, Tatara thought. Make them part of it.
”Now then, let’s welcome our first contender!”
He gestured toward the eastern gate with his free hand. A golem swung the spotlight in perfect sync.
”Entering from the east, hailing from the distant lands of [Hizuru]—the warrior of the East!”
Right on cue, the Acting Head of Family stepped through, posture regal and commanding. A few quick-witted staff members whooped and clapped; the rest followed, swept up by the mood.
”She is the ruler of the Torakuma domain, once feared as the Sword Demon, now revered as the Sword Saint—the one who brings the wind of steel, Lady [Torakuma Nobutsuna]!”
Applause rose as she strode to center stage, the light tracking her perfectly. Cameras caught every confident step, the image magnified across the arena’s monitors.
”And now… her Aarem—[Crimson Lotus]!”
She raised an arm in acknowledgment, and the cheers doubled. The crowd was hooked.
”Facing her, the stalwart guardian of Whirlwind itself!”
The opposite gate burst into light, revealing the Merchant Guild Master. His usually relaxed face sharpened with rare intensity.
”He who has safeguarded this city’s lifelines through famine and storm alike—its golden shield against hunger and ruin! Will he repel today’s challenger?”
The crowd roared as he stepped out. The golems handled camera and spotlight transitions seamlessly.
”Our champion—Guild Master of the Merchants! His Aarem: the [Genbu Model Armor]!”
He didn’t raise an arm like Lady Torakuma, but stood firm, arms crossed, an image of composed defiance. His guild employees erupted in wild cheers. Across from him, Lady Torakuma’s eyes gleamed—she was enjoying herself.
”Combatants, prepare your Aarems!”
Both obeyed instantly, summoning their armors from storage and setting them upon the field.
Tatara turned to the swelling audience. “Now then, everyone! Are you ready to witness history?”
”Yes!” came the hesitant chorus.
”I can’t hear you! Are you ready!?”
”YES!!” the crowd thundered.
”Good!”
The air itself vibrated with anticipation. Tatara could feel the heat of their excitement building toward the breaking point.
”All right, everyone together—count with me! Three!”
He raised three fingers high. The crowd followed his lead, shouting as one.
”THREE!!”
Voices boomed like thunder.
”TWO!!”
The restraints on the Aarems released.
”ONE!!”
Their eyes flared with light. A single breath of silence followed.
”FIGHT!!”
The two Aarems lunged forward—and the explosion of sound that followed could have shaken the heavens. Both operators shouted battle cries as their constructs clashed, metal ringing and the audience exploding in cheers.
And then Tatara’s calm voice cut through it all: “—And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we built the sound system. Thank you for participating in this little test.”
”Ehh!?” both combatants cried at once.
Caught off guard, they fumbled their controls, sending both Aarems toppling in glorious synchronization. They slid across the field, gouging lines into the polished surface like avant-garde art.
”Tatara-dono!?”
”T-Tatara-han, you stoppin’ us now!?”
”Well,” Tatara said, rubbing the back of his neck, “it was just a demonstration of how to use the speakers.”
”But still—!”
He sighed. “I’d love to let you fight for real, but, uh… we’re still mid-setup.”
”Oh.” The realization spread across both faces—and through the crowd as well. Workers suddenly remembered the half-finished scaffolding, the loose tools in their hands. Everyone deflated in unison.
”I’m glad it hyped everyone up,” Tatara added, “but a proper match needs some planning. I’m not exactly a professional announcer, after all.”
”Wait, that wasn’t scripted?” someone blurted.
”Completely improvised,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “Let’s get an actual director to polish it later.”
One of the small golems toddled up and handed the recording crystal to the guild master, who stared at it as if it might explode.
”Now then,” Tatara said cheerfully, “let’s have you two join me for a quick debrief. Everyone else—thanks for playing along! Back to work, please.”
A ripple of disappointed sighs passed through the workers as they returned to their tasks. Tatara grimaced—maybe he’d gotten them too invested.
”Well, that’s that,” he murmured. “Let’s fix the floor.”
He called out, “Please recover your Aarems; I’ll start repairs.”
”Yes…” both replied glumly.
Their armors trudged back toward the hangar. Tatara used [Appraisal] to assess the damage—no fragments, fortunately—and invoked [Creation Magic] to smooth and refill the gouged flooring. Once the field gleamed again, he took the two Aarems for light maintenance. Sure enough, several parts had bent or warped in the fall.
He repaired them with deft hands, the metal reforming under the warmth of his [Crafting] skill, then returned the restored Aarems with a smile. “All right,” he said. “Now, let’s talk.”
”So,” Tatara began, clapping his hands together, “let’s talk about the big day.”
”Leave it to me,” said the guild master cheerfully. “First thing, we gotta find someone who can do that announcin’ voice like you did earlier, Tatara-han.”
”Indeed,” added Lady Torakuma, nodding thoughtfully. “Though for the day itself, Tatara-dono could take that role again… still, nurturing successors is wise.”
Tatara pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s… not what I meant.”
They had gone completely off track.
”What I’m talking about,” he said, forcing a smile, “is the Aarem showcase that doubles as the declaration of diplomatic ties with Hizuru. You remember, Lady Torakuma—you were going to make a dramatic entrance?”
”Ah.” The realization dawned on both of them.
They’d completely forgotten.
”Both of you?” Tatara said dryly.
”It—it couldn’t be helped!” Lady Torakuma protested. “That performance of yours scattered all rational thought!”
”Aye, that’s right!” the guild master agreed. “You hyped us up too much!”
”Don’t make excuses like children.”
”Yes, ma’am…” they mumbled in unison.
Tatara sighed. “Good grief. All right, focus.”
He composed himself again. “Now, on the day itself, I’m thinking we center the three Aarems—yours, Guild Master, plus the Head of Judiciary’s and his son’s—in the middle of the field under a main spotlight. Thoughts?”
He signaled three mini-golems via [Telepathy]. They took formation back-to-back in the field’s center. Lights flared one by one until the trio gleamed under perfect focus. Monitors mirrored the scene.
”Ooh, flashy,” the guild master said, impressed.
”Hmm. It commands attention. A sound approach,” Lady Torakuma added.
So far, so good—classic, maybe even cliché, but it worked.
”Then,” Tatara continued, “after the main explanation, Lady Torakuma, you’ll make your surprise entrance.”
”What’s the issue?” she asked.
”The how,” Tatara said, rubbing his chin. “Your method of crashing the stage.”
Several options came to mind, none decisive. He decided to let her choose.
”For example,” he began, “we could have your Aarem, Crimson Lotus, cloaked in tattered fabric—hidden from view.”
”Hm. Concealed, you say…” She didn’t sound thrilled.
Okay, maybe not a fan of subtlety.
”From there, you burst through the gate and dash onto the field,” he explained. “Your entrance reads as a mysterious intruder.”
”Ah! A shadowed foe’s arrival—intriguing,” she mused.
”The three Aarems on the field ready their weapons, your Crimson Lotus draws its katana—”
”Ah, that one you mentioned before, yes?”
Her eyes began to sparkle. Tatara recognized that look—the battle-maniac gleam.
”The clash begins. Three against one, but Crimson Lotus doesn’t falter. If anything, she parries with ease, dancing between blades.”
”Indeed! Torakuma-han’s skill would make our teamwork look clumsy by comparison!” the guild master said.
”She’s only pretending to be calm,” Lady Torakuma countered dramatically. “Inside, she’s sweating bullets!”
Wait. Did they just start writing their own version of the drama?
”As the exchange continues,” Tatara said, trying to reclaim the flow, “the cloak starts to tear, hindering Crimson Lotus’s movements…”
”The tide turns,” Lady Torakuma said gravely.
”But our attacks only shred the cloak,” the guild master added, swept along.
Tatara blinked. “Uh, you do realize this is just an idea, right?”
They didn’t hear him.
”Then, Crimson Lotus drives them back,” he continued anyway. “She grips the torn cloak and throws it aside, revealing—”
”An unblemished form of gleaming armor!” Lady Torakuma cried.
”Untouched by battle!” added the guild master.
”Wow,” Tatara muttered. “You two are really into this.”
”And once more, she raises her blade,” Lady Torakuma declared.
”Their swords clash!” shouted the guild master.
”Sparks fly!”
”Steel sings!”
Tatara couldn’t help but smile despite himself. “You two get along almost too well.”
Eventually, he raised his hands. “Anyway, that’s one idea. Keeps the reveal strong.”
”Yes,” Lady Torakuma agreed firmly. “The concealment will heighten anticipation!”
Tatara chuckled. “You’re having way too much fun.”
”So the surprise-entry plan’s settled, right?” the guild master said.
”Actually, I’ve got another idea,” Tatara said cautiously.
”Oh? I liked this one, but go on,” Lady Torakuma said, leaning forward.
”We could… airlift the Aarem.”
”…Airlift?” they both echoed blankly.
Right, not exactly a familiar term here.
”I’ll just demonstrate,” Tatara said. “Give me a moment to prep. I’ll have Cipher help.”
He activated [Telepathy], summoning his bird-shaped golem. The large construct arrived within minutes, wings gleaming—a bit of overkill, honestly.
”Since the real Aarem might get scratched, I’ll use a substitute.” He gestured, and one of the small golems climbed onto Cipher’s back. The golem clutched its passenger and rose gracefully above the arena, near the hanging lights.
”From here, it would stay out of sight,” Tatara explained. “Then, after your colleagues’ demonstration, it swoops in. The sound device I’m designing will give a unique hum—Cipher’s silent, but the real one won’t be.”
He directed a spotlight upward as Cipher circled, then descended slowly toward the center, carrying its small cargo in a majestic glide.
”At this point,” Tatara said, “we can either drop it dramatically or let it descend gently.”
Cipher obligingly performed both. First, a swift release ending in a solid landing. Then, a careful, slow descent.
”Alternatively,” Tatara added, “we could lower the Aarem along with its hangar structure, but since you prefer dynamic entrances, we can skip that—”
”Wait, what!?” Lady Torakuma grabbed his shoulder, eyes wide. “You never mentioned this!”
”I did. Just now,” he said evenly.
”Tatara-han, ain’t that spoilin’ her too much?” the guild master asked, half-grinning.
”Well, we want something memorable,” Tatara replied. “Big entrances leave big impressions.”
”Yeah, and what about our Aarems? We’ll look like background props!”
Fair point. The airlift would steal the show.
”All right,” Tatara conceded, “we’ll drop the airlift plan.”
”Now hold on!” Lady Torakuma protested. “Let’s discuss this like civilized people!”
She was practically vibrating with anticipation. Tatara couldn’t blame her; he’d want a flashy entrance too.
”On a different note,” he said, shifting gears, “about the diplomatic declaration…”
”Hmm? The one you proposed?” she asked.
”Right. Are we even allowed to make that announcement without the Foreign Affairs Chief’s approval?”
”Ah,” the guild master said, paling slightly.
Apparently, he’d forgotten too.
”Diplomatic matters, huh?” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “Yeah, we’ll need the Foreign Affairs Chief involved for sure.”
Tatara exhaled. “Right. Guess we’re calling another meeting.”
They all looked skyward, collectively realizing they’d just created a mountain of paperwork.
As Tatara mulled things over, the merchant guild master turned to him.
”Tatara-han, can you come by again tomorrow?”
”Sure. If I know now, I’ll keep my schedule open.”
Lady Torakuma sighed, rubbing her temples. “We truly let ourselves get carried away.”
They all nodded solemnly in mutual regret. Though, Tatara thought, wasn’t the real person they needed to consult the City Mayor?
He’d been sending her letters now and then, but she always insisted: report only when the project’s finished.
Timing was… tricky. Maybe he’d send a brief notice anyway.
With that, his duties with Lady Torakuma were done for the day.
”Sorry,” Tatara said as they started to leave. “I feel like I wasn’t much help today.”
”Eh?” Lady Torakuma and the guild master both gave him incredulous stares.
”What did you even do today, Tatara-dono?” she asked.
”Well, let’s see… interior work for the restaurant, helped with seating arrangements—sort of. Adjusted the cameras and speakers. Tuned up the battlefield area. That’s about it?”
”Boy, that’s plenty!” the guild master said.
Tatara frowned. “Maybe, but I’m the next Chief Crafter. I should be working harder.”
”Tatara-han,” the guild master said gravely, “that title don’t mean overworked lunatic, y’know.”
Tatara blinked. “Could’ve fooled me.”
By early afternoon, he and Lady Torakuma headed home together.
They wandered through the festival stalls, buying skewers and pastries, eating as they walked. It wasn’t elegant, but both of them enjoyed the break from formality.
”By now,” Lady Torakuma mused, “Mitsuha may be cooking lunch at the estate.”
”Oh, right. She’s learning housework, isn’t she?”
”She began as ‘bridal training,’ but the goal reversed somewhere along the way. Now she’s training for the household chores, not marriage.”
”That… sounds exhausting.”
”With her status, it’s difficult to find a partner,” Lady Torakuma admitted. “At this rate, I may need to petition His Majesty himself.”
Rare for him to complain about family matters, Tatara thought. Yohira had an older brother, so succession wasn’t a problem—but hadn’t Mother-in-law grumbled about him too?
”How about letting her move out and start a housekeeping business?” Tatara joked.
”Ah, such professions exist here as well?” the noble mused.
The two of them laughed, talking about cleaning magic tools until they reached Tatara’s home—Whirlwind.
”We’re back,” he called as they stepped inside.
Together they crossed the entryway… only to freeze.
”Welcome home, Father, Tatara-sama,” Mitsuha said, kneeling neatly with three fingers touching the floor. “I’ve decided to become a daughter of this household.”
”…What?”
Tatara’s brain blanked. He rebooted after a full second of stunned silence.
”WHAT are you talking about!?”
”Indeed, what possesses you, Mitsuha!?” Lady Torakuma barked.
”What do you mean?” Mitsuha asked, tilting her head.
”I mean, why would you—” Tatara began.
”Please don’t skip to the conclusion!” Lady Torakuma added. “Explain yourself! I won’t be angry!”
But it was hopeless. The tempo was all wrong. Mitsuha pondered their confusion, nodded once, and said calmly:
”I don’t mind offering my body as rent.”
”THAT’S NOT WHAT WE MEANT!” both men shouted in perfect sync.
Nope. Conversation officially off the rails.
”In your mind, this is already decided, huh?” Tatara asked, rubbing his forehead. “Fine, then—how did we get here?”
”And tell me,” Lady Torakuma added, “what am I supposed to do when my daughter greets me with talk of renouncing her family the moment I return home!?”
Mitsuha blinked again, as if realizing she might have missed a beat. Then she clasped her hands. “Perhaps we should sit down and talk properly. To the living room, please.”
They followed, dazed.
In minutes, Mitsuha had the tea brewed, cups arranged, the table set—efficiency bordering on supernatural.
”…You’re already mastering the kitchen, huh,” Tatara said.
”That’s because Tatara-sama’s design is so wonderfully practical,” she replied sweetly.
True—it was a one-of-a-kind enchanted kitchen his late mother had helped him design—but still, adapting that fast? Impressive.
”I mean, even here in Whirlwind, that’s not an easy setup to learn,” he said.
”Oh, nonsense,” Mitsuha smiled. “Anyone used to household work could manage it in half an hour. Ichika-sama certainly did.”
”…She did?” Tatara muttered. “Didn’t even notice.”
Lady Torakuma frowned. “Wait—so… you’re saying you want to live here because of the kitchen?”
”But of course, Father. You’re as sharp as ever.”
That was the reason.
Tatara and Lady Torakuma exchanged equally exhausted looks.
”What if I install the same system in your home?” Tatara offered.
”Tempting,” Mitsuha said thoughtfully. “But altering the family estate’s kitchen would be selfish, wouldn’t it?”
”Pretty sure moving in uninvited is also selfish,” Tatara muttered.
Her smile didn’t waver. Lady Torakuma just sighed heavily, shoulders sinking.
Then Mitsuha’s eyes sparkled again. “Ah, but if I’ll be Yohira’s sister-in-law someday, we’re not exactly strangers, are we?”
”…Wait, what?” Tatara said.
”Admittedly,” Lady Torakuma said stiffly, “that would be a familial distance… but still—”
Her tone shifted, dropping from flustered parent to authoritative noble in an instant. “Mitsuha. Who told you this?”
”No one,” Mitsuha replied calmly. “Tatara-sama’s behavior made it clear he was keeping it secret. Your manner and Mother’s confirmed it. I simply put the pieces together.”
Lady Torakuma exhaled sharply. “To think a mere hunch could expose our hidden arrangements…”
Mitsuha only smiled serenely, unbothered by the weight in the air.
Tatara sighed inwardly. His house, his sanity, his kitchen—none were safe anymore.
”Ibara doesn’t know, does she?” asked Lady Torakuma, voice tight.
”Oh no,” Mitsuha said serenely. “If my elder sister learned her younger sibling was marrying first, this house would be reduced to rubble.”
”…What?”
Tatara froze mid-breath.
Reduced to rubble? That level of sibling competitiveness should be a public hazard.
Then Mitsuha smiled faintly. “So perhaps all of us sisters should just marry you, Tatara-sama. Would that not be simpler?”
Tatara almost spat his tea.
”Please—please limit your political marriages to one royal child at a time!”
He bowed at the table, forehead nearly touching the wood.
Lady Torakuma groaned, rubbing her temples. “You see what I live with.”
Unbothered, Mitsuha continued, “What a pity. For a kitchen that produces perfect rice and adjustable-temperature water, my body would be a fair price.”
”I’ll build you a kitchen,” Tatara said desperately. “A whole house, even! Just—please—no offering of bodies.”
Even Lady Torakuma pressed a hand over her face. “Mitsuha…”
”Do you dislike me so much?” Mitsuha asked softly, tilting her head.
Tatara blinked. “What? No, it’s not that—”
”I mean,” she said, lifting her chest just enough to make him choke, “I do pride myself on a more… captivating physique than Yohira’s.”
”Wh—why is this happening!?”
Lady Torakuma’s glare could have turned mountains to dust.
Tatara coughed into his sleeve. “For the record—physically speaking—you’re entirely within my type.”
That earned him a double glare.
He raised both hands in surrender. “But! I don’t just accept anyone because of looks or titles. I barely know you. And I’m not… careless.”
”Oh?” Mitsuha said. “You trusted us with your house rather quickly.”
”Because your father guaranteed your conduct! Otherwise, I’d have kept Ichika on standby!”
A flicker—almost a smile—touched her lips. “I begin to see why Yohira loves you.”
Tatara grimaced. “That obvious, huh?”
”She and I share taste,” Mitsuha replied sweetly.
That landed like a thunderclap. Lady Torakuma audibly groaned into both hands.
Perfect, Tatara thought. I’m going to die before this tea cools.
He exhaled. “Let’s… change topics. Mitsuha-san—”
”‘Sister-in-law’ will do.”
”…Mitsuha-san,” he corrected firmly. “I’d rather not have Ibara turn this place into a crater.”
Her laughter tinkled, delicate and merciless.
”Do you actually want to move out of your family estate?” he asked.
”Yes,” she said. “Though it pains me to say so before Father, I wish to be independent.”
Lady Torakuma’s brow furrowed. “You need not rush, daughter.”
”Oh, Father, I’m already eighty.”
”Youkai years, child. That’s barely adulthood.”
Right. Tatara had completely forgotten the longevity issue.
He leaned forward. “If independence is your goal, how about a trial run here in Whirlwind?”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh?”
”You mentioned service work. That requires references and connections. Instead, I could help you establish something like… housework outsourcing. Cleaning, cooking, errands—for hire.”
”‘Housework… outsourcing?’ Do explain.”
He did. Patiently, step by step, describing his world’s “housekeeping agencies.” Mitsuha listened in fascination, occasionally interrupted by Lady Torakuma’s pragmatic worries about safety.
”I am a youkai,” Mitsuha said with a laugh. “Hardly fragile.”
”Still a woman,” Tatara said. “Consider the risk of stalkers.”
”A dark, gloomy woman like me would not attract—”
”Forgive me, but you’re stunning. Please develop self-awareness.”
That silenced her. Lady Torakuma nodded gravely. “Behold, Mitsuha—this is Tatara-dono. Dangerous when sincere.”
”…I wish you’d warned me sooner, Father,” Mitsuha muttered, flushing faintly.
Tatara sighed. “If you’re serious about living alone, I’ll build you a house.”
”Truly?”
”Tatara-dono once built two homes in under two hours,” Lady Torakuma said flatly. “For him, it’s a hobby.”
Mitsuha blinked. “Ah… so that’s what they mean by ‘Tatara-ing.’”
”…Excuse me?” Tatara asked.
”Oh, one of your friends told me: ‘If Tatara does something incomprehensible, don’t worry, he’s just Tatara-ing.’”
”That—THAT TRAITOR—!”
He buried his face in his hands. Even Lady Torakuma chuckled.
After much laughter and reluctant debate, Lady Torakuma finally sighed. “A daughter living alone is no small thing. But if it is near Whirlwind, and secure…”
”I can reinforce it like this house,” Tatara said. “Install a mana reactor if needed. Costly, but manageable with a loan.”
She nodded, defeated. “So be it.”
Mitsuha smiled, serene as ever. “Then I shall accept. I will prove my independence.”
And just like that, it was settled: Mitsuha would begin her new life under Tatara’s watch—technically a tenant, unofficially his greatest source of headaches.
As Lady Torakuma muttered something about grandchildren and diplomacy, Tatara stared at his teacup.
Maybe, he thought, the next catastrophe could wait until after the festival.
Notes:
• Cipher – Tatara’s familiar, sent to guard Tatia.
• Mitsuha – Second daughter of the Torakuma family (Yohira’s sister). She is quiet, awkward, surprisingly deadpan, and possesses a gentle, nurturing side (shown with Cornremu). Hair so long it trailed across the floor like Tomie Kawakami (Junji Ito), face half-hidden by hair, single dark horn (above brow), loose violet robes.
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name. Oni warrior.
• Ichika – The fox girl. Kunoichi. Virgincest⚠️, becomes pregnant immediately.
• Ibara – Eldest daughter of the Torakuma family (Yohira’s sister). She is sharp, formal, and possesses a predatory confidence and dry humor. Relative of the Narrator’s ex-companion (Yohira) and a new house guest/guard. Short black hair (neatly at the shoulder), crimson horn (from forehead), eyes of molten gold, red and black kimono like Shuten-dōji (Fate).
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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