"Welcome!"
Pushing aside the noren curtain that displayed the shop's name, Miyamizu Mitsuha was the first to step into the small izakaya called Nishirou.
As their group entered, the already-cramped space became even more crowded.
The hostess quickly greeted them and led them to their seats.
They gathered around the cooking counter, where they had two options: order from the menu or choose one of the day's special dishes written on small paper squares behind the chef.
Mitsuha held the menu in her hands, but her eyes were darting around the walls, scanning the specials.
Just as Makki Hojou had said, this place was famous for its monjayaki.
They had all sorts—classic octopus monjayaki, mentaiko (spicy cod roe) monjayaki, and even some stranger combinations. Basically, like tempura, it seemed like anything could be turned into monjayaki.
"If you're not sure what to get, I recommend the creamy sauce monjayaki. It's the chef's specialty," Makki suggested.
Creamy sauce?!
Mitsuha's heart practically leaped with joy. She immediately placed an order—not just for one, but for four servings. Octopus, scallops, mentaiko—she wanted them all.
Since this izakaya specialized in monjayaki, the counter had a built-in iron griddle.
The chef would cook the dish before transferring it to the cooler side of the griddle in front of the customers, letting them control the level of crispiness to their liking.
Despite its odd name, monjayaki was actually pretty simple:
Shredded cabbage mixed with octopus pieces, scallops, or other ingredients, stir-fried in butter, then combined with a thin batter. It was chopped and mixed together like stir-fried ice cream.
Then came the crucial step—letting it firm up and develop a golden, crispy crust. That was what made it truly delicious.
Compared to Osaka-style okonomiyaki, which was thick and solid, monjayaki in its early stages looked… well, kind of questionable.
Before long, Mitsuha's extra-large monjayaki was ready. The iron griddle at the counter wasn't completely heated, so the area closest to the customers was cooler, making it safer to handle.
Because her batter had a creamy sauce mixed in, her monjayaki had a rich, milky-white appearance.
As it cooked, small bubbles began to rise, and the edges turned golden brown, forming little craters.
Mitsuha quickly grabbed a small spatula and carefully lifted the crispy edge, folding it over itself. Now that both sides were golden brown, it suddenly looked way more appetizing.
She swallowed hard.
As much as she wanted to take a bite right away, she knew that anything hot enough to cook the batter would be far too hot for Kyousuke's lips to handle.
She didn't want to make things difficult for him, so she blew on it as hard as she could.
Fortunately, Kyousuke had great lung capacity, and with one strong breath, she cooled it down to a temperature she could handle.
'Delicious! The rich, creamy flavor blended perfectly with the sweetness of the cabbage, and the thick chunks of octopus tentacle made every bite incredibly satisfying!'
Mitsuha's eyes lit up as she eagerly scooped up a few more pieces, setting them aside to cool.
———————————————————————
Saturday
Tokyo, Sendagi, Bachelor Apartment
Kyousuke woke up and shook his head. It still felt like the nightmare hadn't faded away.
At first, he'd complained about the system blocking his memories during body swaps.
But now that those memories were coming back in vivid detail, he almost wished he could return to blissful ignorance.
What he had expected to be a relaxing countryside vacation had turned into an endless cycle of tutoring sessions and life consultations.
He still couldn't recall why it had all happened, but the image of that long line of people, him dozing off while sitting up, only to be shaken awake again—it was all painfully clear.
This couldn't go on. There was no way he'd be stuck working for Mitsuha while she enjoyed a carefree life in Tokyo, eating and drinking to her heart's content!
His finances were stable for now, but he still needed to stick to his part-time job plan. Something with flexible hours—where he could come and go as he pleased—would be ideal.
Every night before bed, he wrote a reminder in his memo:———————————————————————
"Work tomorrow. Make your own pocket money."
———————————————————————
After all, she was the one spending all the money in the end!
With that thought, Kyousuke opened his memo app.
And then, a notification popped up:
———————————————————————
"Tomorrow: Nezu Shrine, Azalea Festival."
———————————————————————
The moment he saw those words, his groggy brain snapped into full alert mode. He suddenly had the overwhelming urge to swap back and take Mitsuha's place at work.
He had made plans to go to the Azalea Festival at Nezu Shrine with Sakura, Shouko, and Naoka.
Just imagining the three girls together in one place sent a cold chill down his spine.
Nope. Change of plans. Mitsuha was going to the festival instead.
If they didn't swap bodies tomorrow… he was uninstalling this damn system.
As for the risk of being exposed in front of three girls who knew him best? Well, if it happened, it happened. Some things in life were just inevitable.
After washing up and completing his daily kendo practice, Kyousuke headed out.
He had plans to meet Eriri at her place to discuss manga. Breakfast was included.
Bringing only his phone, wallet, and keys, he left the apartment.
Previously, he had asked if he needed to bring any drawing materials, but over the phone, Eriri had shot him down immediately:
———————————————————————
"Do you even know what kind of pens are used for sketching? Or shading?"
"Uh… 2B pencil?"
"Hah?! Just bring yourself, idiot!"
———————————————————————
And that was how Kyousuke with empty stomach made his way to Eriri's place.
She had mentioned that her mother would be cooking today, so he was somewhat looking forward to it.
Since it was the weekend and not rush hour, he arrived at Eriri's grand mansion before his stomach could start complaining.
Even though it wasn't his first time seeing it, riding his motorcycle through that traditional Japanese courtyard still left him in awe. The sight only strengthened his resolve—he needed to make more money.
If someone as rich as Eriri was still working hard on doujinshi, then what excuse did he have not to?
After parking his bike and making his way to the main house, Sayuri greeted him at the entrance.
"Good morning, Sayuri-san."
"Lily is still in her room, drawing. You can go straight up. I'll call you both when breakfast is ready."
Before he could even ask to greet Eriri dad, her mother cheerfully ushered him upstairs.
Clearly, formalities weren't a big deal in this household.
Climbing the open staircase, his feet sinking into the thick carpet, Kyousuke found Eriri's room with practiced ease.
'Knock, knock.'
No response.
He knocked again.
Still nothing.
Since Sayuri had sent him up directly, Eriri probably knew he was coming, right?
Turning the doorknob, he let himself in.
Eriri was so absorbed in her drawing that she didn't even notice him at first. But the moment she heard the door open, she spun around and blurted out—
"Mom, I told you to call me when Hojou gets here— I, I…"
The words died in her throat.
Her movements froze like a malfunctioning machine, and then—panic.
In a flurry, she snatched her drawing board and shoved it behind her.
"Hojou! Why did you just walk in?!"
Her voice was sharp, high-pitched, a mix of panic and embarrassment. Her hands flailed wildly like the wings of a hummingbird.
"I knocked. Twice." Kyousuke stepped inside, unbothered.
"More importantly, what are you drawing?"
Even with just a fleeting glance, he had caught sight of something—exposed muscles, broad and defined. Yeah, that definitely didn't look like a normal sketch.
"It's just a regular draft!" Eriri's eyes darted around, desperate for an excuse.
"Don't come any closer!"
As Kyousuke advanced toward her, eyes locked on the drawing board behind her back, Eriri panicked.
She stood up, but realizing that moving would expose the drawing, she made a last-ditch effort.
"Ow! My foot! I think my old injury's acting up again! Hojou, can you get me some ice?"
With perfect execution, the blonde beauty slipped into her refined-lady act, her voice soft and delicate. Those shimmering blue eyes practically begged for sympathy.
…Unfortunately for her, Kyousuke knew her too well.
Unfazed, he kept walking. If this room weren't so big, he would have reached her already.
Realizing her usual tricks wouldn't work, Eriri's face twisted in desperation.
No choice.
She grabbed the entire drawing board, yanked it off the stand, and bolted.
Her plan? A full retreat to the far side of the room.
Her mistake? She pushed off too hard.
As her left foot took off, her right foot slipped on the plush carpet beneath her.
First came the forehead impact.
Then—darkness.
The next thing she knew, she was falling into the one domain she feared most.
Kyousuke would first be stunned, then overjoyed.
Next, he would glance toward the door to check if my mother was there. If not, he'd shut it quickly and turn to me with a predatory grin.
Then, he'd reach for me—his long fingers brushing my golden hair aside, trailing over my cheek… slowly unzipping my tracksuit…
Wait, wait, wait! His strength was way too high! How was I supposed to handle that?!
No, no, no! But… I was unconscious right now. If he tried anything, I wouldn't be able to stop him…
"Eriri? Eriri?"
Kyousuke's voice called out softly.
She felt weightless—he was holding her in his arms.
The position was… questionable.
Because she had fallen face-first, he had caught her in a rather awkward way.
Not that he particularly felt anything.
Actually, the fact that he didn't feel anything was what made it worse.
Still no response from Eriri.
"Yeah… she definitely just panicked herself unconscious."
Kyousuke sighed.
For someone so fierce, Eriri really had no idea how to handle things when she was backed into a corner.