Chapter 45: 045. About the Visitor Who Kicked Me Out of My House Early in the Morning
Natsukawa Kanade had a dream.
In the dream, he and an angel—yes, an actual angel—were playing together in a shimmering pool under the radiant summer sun. The angel wore a pure white swimsuit, her ethereal presence blending with the dazzling light. The water rippled as they laughed and splashed each other. Then, in a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, he leaned closer, their gazes locking.
"Is it okay?" he asked, his voice low but tinged with anticipation.
The angel's cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She didn't respond, her golden eyes darting away shyly. Taking this as silent permission, he reached out, pulling her into a warm embrace...
And then he woke up.
Kanade blinked groggily at the ceiling, the remnants of the dream dissipating like morning mist.
"Seriously?!"
The vividness of the dream left his heart racing, and he groaned, rubbing his face. Due to a lack of "code support"—or perhaps a blessing from some divine prankster—the dream had conveniently ended before reaching its true climax. Still, the memory of it lingered, teasing him with its impossibility.
"…Unbelievable."
Resigning himself to reality, Kanade slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to cool both his heated thoughts and his cheeks.
Dreams are strange things, he mused. In the real world, human desires are kept in check by reason and restraint. But in dreams, those same desires run free, unshackled by logic or morality.
"Thank goodness I live alone," Kanade muttered, glancing at his reflection. At least he didn't have to worry about anyone witnessing his post-dream embarrassment.
It was Saturday, which meant no school and plenty of time to recover from this mortifying start to the day. Still, guilt gnawed at him. We agreed to just be friends… so why am I dreaming about her like this?
But then again, was it really his fault? After all, Shiina Mahiru—the angel—was undeniably charming. Too charming, if he were honest. She had been so defenseless yesterday, dozing off on his sofa while clutching her stuffed toy, her serene expression enough to make anyone's heart skip a beat.
She wasn't always like this. When they first met, Mahiru kept her distance, her guarded demeanor practically daring anyone to approach her. But over time, she had softened, revealing a gentle, almost vulnerable side that made Kanade's head spin. Her allure was impossible to ignore—no matter how hard he tried.
Kanade sighed. He didn't understand girls at all.
Shiina was a mystery, but she wasn't the only one. There was Yukinoshita, with her icy façade hiding a razor-sharp mind. Then there was Shinomiya, whose elegance masked a stubborn streak that could rival anyone's. Even Kato, whom he considered the most down-to-earth of them all, had a quiet complexity that left him second-guessing her every move.
And Fujiwara? Forget it. That girl was pure chaos incarnate.
Oddly enough, the only girl Kanade felt he could read was Eriri, whose tsundere tendencies practically broadcasted her feelings like a neon sign. But even she had been acting strangely sentimental lately.
"Maybe it's just easier hanging out with the guys," Kanade muttered to himself. Hachiman, Shirogane, Ishigami—they were all straightforward. With them, there was no need to navigate emotional minefields or decode hidden meanings. Conversations were simple, unfiltered, and refreshingly honest.
"Beep, beep, beep."
A sharp knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Huh? Who could it be this early?"
Still half-dazed, Kanade rinsed his mouth, ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and shuffled toward the door.
When he opened it, he froze.
"Shiina?"
Standing in the doorway was none other than the angel herself, Shiina Mahiru. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled with a warmth that immediately dispelled the lingering haze of his dream.
For a moment, Kanade's brain short-circuited. Was this still a dream? Had he somehow summoned her from his imagination into reality?
"Good morning," she said softly, her voice as light as a summer breeze.
"P-please, come in!" Kanade stammered, stepping aside to let her in.
"Excuse me." Mahiru nodded politely, slipping off her shoes and changing into her usual indoor slippers.
As she moved past him, Kanade couldn't help but notice how conservative her outfit was—a simple spring ensemble that contrasted with the warmer weather. A pang of disappointment flickered through his thoughts. It would've been nice to see her in summer clothes… especially a skirt…
Realizing where his mind was wandering, Kanade shook his head violently.
"Y-you can sit down," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I-I'll go wash my face!"
Mahiru tilted her head, puzzled but unfazed by his odd behavior. "Alright."
Her calm demeanor only made him feel more flustered.
Kanade retreated to the bathroom, splashing his face again in a desperate attempt to banish the inappropriate thoughts creeping into his mind. What's wrong with me today?
Meanwhile, Mahiru settled onto the sofa, her movements unhurried and natural. She glanced around the familiar living room, her expression softening.
She didn't feel like a guest here. No, this place had become as familiar to her as her own home. And the thought of being here, in this space shared with Kanade, brought a quiet comfort that words couldn't capture.
Her gaze drifted to the kitchen, and a thought took root in her mind. From Kanade's disheveled appearance and hesitant demeanor, it was obvious he had just woken up. That likely meant he hadn't eaten yet.
Maybe I should make him breakfast, she thought, a small smile tugging at her lips.
The idea wasn't unusual—after all, she'd helped him with dinner countless times before, under the guise of ensuring he didn't fall victim to his questionable eating habits. But making breakfast for him first thing in the morning? That felt… different.
Like a newlywed wife!
Mahiru's cheeks flushed a delicate pink at the thought, but she quickly shook her head. It wasn't like that at all! Or… was it?
Either way, she didn't mind if Kanade misunderstood her intentions. After all, she'd long since stopped caring about what others might think of their peculiar relationship. With a determined nod, she made her way toward the kitchen.
Sliding open the refrigerator, she peeked inside, only to be met with a barren wasteland of empty shelves and lonely condiment bottles. Not even an egg or a carton of milk could be found.
"Unbelievable," she murmured, her brows knitting together.
Undeterred, she checked the cabinets, but they were equally desolate. It was as though Kanade had declared war on groceries and emerged victorious.
"Does he even think about eating breakfast?" she muttered, exasperated. "This is no way to live. It's completely unhealthy!"
A surge of resolve coursed through her. Someone had to step in, and clearly, that someone was her. She would make sure Kanade didn't neglect himself like this ever again.
Mahiru grabbed an apron hanging nearby and tied it around her waist. The action was so natural it felt as though she truly belonged here. She was mid-way through surveying the counter space when Kanade shuffled into the living room.
"Shiina?"
His voice broke through her focus, and she turned to find him staring at her, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.
Kanade blinked. Seeing Mahiru in his kitchen, donned in an apron like she was about to film a cooking show, was almost too much for his still-groggy brain to process.
"Wait," he said slowly, his gaze darting from her to the empty fridge. "Are you… planning to cook something?"
Mahiru tilted her head, her golden hair cascading over one shoulder. "Of course. What else would I be doing?"
Kanade scratched the back of his neck. Her answer was straightforward, but the situation wasn't. Showing up at a guy's house first thing in the morning, apron in hand, to cook breakfast? It wasn't exactly normal.
Sure, Mahiru had always enjoyed "taking care of a loser," as he half-jokingly thought of it. She seemed to derive an almost motherly satisfaction from scolding him for his bad habits and forcing him to eat balanced meals. But this? This felt like an evolution—or worse, an escalation.
"Shiina," he said cautiously, "this is starting to feel like… I don't know, like I'm being kept by a beautiful girl."
Mahiru paused, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she smiled faintly. "Is that such a bad thing?"
Kanade's brain short-circuited.
Before he could respond, Mahiru crossed her arms, her expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. "Anyway, Kanade, how can you live like this? Skipping breakfast every day is terrible for your health. You'll ruin your stomach at this rate!"
She began tidying up as she spoke, her voice a melodic blend of concern and exasperation. "And look at this kitchen! I've only been gone a few days, and it's already a disaster. The same goes for the living room. How many times do I have to tell you not to leave clothes on the sofa? If you wear them, wash them. And for goodness' sake, at least try to keep things clean!"
Kanade stood frozen, unable to refute her rapid-fire complaints. She wasn't wrong—he had let things slide recently. Between sleepless nights and a packed schedule, cleaning and eating properly had fallen by the wayside.
"Are you even listening?" Mahiru's voice snapped him out of his daze.
"Y-yes! I'm listening!" he stammered, nodding furiously.
Mahiru sighed, clearly unconvinced. "Good. Then start cleaning up. I'll go buy some ingredients so we can make breakfast properly."
"Wait, no!" Kanade protested, stepping forward. "I can't let you do that. I'll go buy the ingredients. You're already doing enough as it is."
Mahiru blinked, her lips pressing into a thoughtful line. "Alright," she relented after a moment. "But you'd better not dawdle. I'll stay here and clean up while you're gone."
Kanade hesitated, sensing he'd walked into yet another trap. Still, arguing with Mahiru was futile at the best of times.
"Fine," he muttered. "I'll be quick."
"Be careful on the way," she called after him, her tone softening.