Chapter 168: Machiko’s Little Boat

Machiko knew perfectly well that secretly following people on a date wasn’t something a good girl should do—but human curiosity, or more accurately, that irresistible hunger for gossip, was a force far beyond moral restraint. No matter how much she scolded herself, the impulse always won.

So…

Machiko was tailing them again today—with renewed determination and an energy level that would’ve impressed any professional stalker.

She crouched behind telephone poles, darted between vending machines, peeked around corners, and flattened herself against walls with the exaggerated stealth of a spy in a low-budget drama. Each time she caught a glimpse of Kouya and his companions through the café window, her heart skipped a beat. Then she’d duck back behind cover like a nervous squirrel.

To her, it was a game of patience and precision. To everyone else… it looked absolutely ridiculous.

This time, she carefully poked her head out again, her long black hair swaying slightly as she peered toward the café across the street.

“Eh? Where did they go?” she whispered.

She blinked. They were gone. Completely gone. Vanished like ninjas.

“Did they leave already? No way—they were just there!”

Before she could make sense of it, a lilting, teasing voice sounded from right behind her. “Machiko-chan~? Gotcha.”

“Eh?! Eh, eh, eh?!”

She froze. The air itself seemed to tighten around her as she turned her head slowly—only to find Kouya and Raphiel standing less than a meter away. One with his usual cold, unreadable stare. The other with a bright, knowing smile that somehow radiated both kindness and danger.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, it was Raphiel’s smile that terrified her most.

“Eek!” Machiko squeaked, stumbling backward in blind panic. Her heel caught the curb, and she went down with a soft thud. Her bag flew open, scattering a few pens and a pink notebook onto the pavement.

Before she could even gasp, a cool evening breeze swept past, and she felt an unmistakable chill beneath her skirt.

Raphiel’s sing-song voice floated down. “Oh my~ blue-and-white stripes. Classic choice.”

“…”

Machiko’s mind went blank. She froze completely, face blazing red, as she clamped both hands over her skirt and let out a strangled noise that was neither human nor coherent.

H-he saw…! He actually saw them?!

Why does this always happen to me?!

“Careful, the ground’s cold,” Raphiel said lightly, crouching down and offering a graceful hand.

Machiko blinked, snapping back into reality. “I-I’m fine!” she blurted, scrambling up like a startled rabbit, brushing her skirt and bowing repeatedly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t doing anything suspicious—really!”

Raphiel only smiled, her silver hair glinting softly in the sunlight as she folded her hands behind her back. “Now then, Machiko-chan… mind telling us why you were following us?”

“Talk,” Kouya said curtly from beside her, his tone brooking no argument.

Machiko froze again. “I-I wasn’t following anyone! You’re imagining things!” she stammered.

Unfortunately, she was a horrible liar. Her darting eyes, trembling voice, and bright red cheeks betrayed her immediately.

“Is that so?” Raphiel mused, raising one finger. “Then perhaps Machiko-chan wouldn’t mind coming with us for a little chat?”

“Eh?! N-no! Don’t take me to the gym storage room—or the dark room!” she cried out, her imagination running wild. Her hair trembled as if alive, and tears welled up in her eyes.

What are you even thinking?! We’re not that kind of people!

Raphiel tilted her head, a little surprised by how fast Machiko jumped to horror scenarios. “Oh my, I didn’t mean it that way,” she said with a playful giggle. “But you know, spying on others isn’t exactly polite. Don’t you think you should offer some kind of… compensation?”

“C-compensation?” Machiko blinked, misunderstanding immediately. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her wallet with shaking hands, and held it out like an offering to a mob boss. “I-I only have this much cash! Please let me go!”

“…”

Do you think we’re collecting protection money now?!

At least offer your pride—actually, no, scratch that!

Raphiel sighed and shook her head with mock exasperation. “No need for that. The café’s short on staff today. How about helping out as a part-time waitress? Kouya-kun and the others are already working inside.”

Machiko blinked in disbelief. “W-wait… you came here to work?!”

“What else did you think we were doing?” Kouya deadpanned.

“…”

Before she could react, Raphiel had already grabbed her wrist with surprising strength and led her toward the café entrance.

The bell chimed as they entered, and the air was filled with the rich aroma of coffee and sweet cream. Inside, Satania and Rikka had just stepped out of the back room, freshly dressed in maid uniforms. The black-and-white outfits hugged their forms perfectly—one lively and bold, the other petite and dreamlike.

Alice clapped her hands. “Alright! You two are on shift now!”

“Eh?! Why?!” Satania exclaimed, her red eyes wide.

“You’re wearing work uniforms,” Alice said as if it were obvious. “Besides, you’ve got free time, right? And maids get paid hourly. Think of how much melon bread you could buy!”

So young, yet already so deviously manipulative… she’s learning from Raphiel way too fast.

Satania’s expression softened almost instantly. “Well… when you put it that way, I guess it’s not so bad!”

Rikka, meanwhile, spotted Kouya and gasped with delight. She skipped over, holding her skirt and twirling. “Hero, hero! Look!” she said brightly, spinning twice in front of him. Her skirt fanned out, white lace flashing beneath, and her ahoge bounced like it was alive.

Kouya blinked, caught off guard by how unexpectedly cute it was.

Unfortunately, Rikka’s sense of balance—compromised by her eyepatch—betrayed her. After two spins, she stumbled, nearly falling into him. Kouya caught her just in time.

“Stop spinning. You’ll fall,” he scolded lightly.

“Hehe, but the hero will always catch me anyway~.”

He flicked her forehead. “Call me by my name.”

“Oww~ Kouya-kun is mean!” she pouted, rubbing her head.

Meanwhile, Raphiel had already dragged a dazed Machiko into the dressing room.

Ten minutes later, the door opened again, and Raphiel clapped her hands together with satisfaction. “Machiko-chan looks amazing!”

Kouya turned—and froze in place.

Machiko stood there in full maid attire. The crisp white frills, the soft black fabric, the neatly tied ribbon around her collar—all framed her tall figure beautifully. Her long black hair shimmered like silk, and between the hem of her skirt and the edge of her white stockings lay a strip of perfect, glowing skin—the so-called absolute territory that made men forget how to breathe.

Her face burned crimson. One trembling hand clutched her skirt hem, while her wide eyes darted helplessly between Kouya and Raphiel. That mix of shame, confusion, and innocence was almost too much to handle.

“Wait… I was supposed to be investigating Kouya-kun! Why am I in a maid outfit now?!” she exclaimed, her voice breaking.

“Oh, don’t worry about such tiny details,” Raphiel said sweetly.

“How can I not worry?!” Machiko cried, her voice trembling with mortification. “This is huge!”

“Well, you’ve already changed,” Raphiel said with mock seriousness. “Might as well stay and help out a bit. You’ll even get paid.”

“N-no! I’m going home right now!”

“Too late,” Raphiel sang, pressing a finger to her lips. “You’re already aboard the pirate ship, Machiko-chan~.”

“S-so scary!!”

…

Hours passed. The café grew quiet as evening turned to night. Customers dwindled, lights dimmed, and laughter softened to murmurs. When Kouya finally walked Rikka home, the streets were painted in the orange glow of streetlights and neon signs.

On his way back, his mind replayed the chaotic day: Alice’s smug grin, Satania’s stubborn pride, Raphiel’s teasing, and Machiko’s flustered embarrassment. He almost smiled.

But as he reached his doorstep, the faint tranquility of the night shattered.

There, sitting quietly in the corner near the wall, was a girl in a white dress. Her hair drifted lightly in the wind, her knees drawn up, her expression distant but gentle.

Menma.

The ghostly girl looked up at him, her soft eyes reflecting the moonlight, her lips curling into a faint, sorrowful smile—as if she had been waiting for him all along, never once leaving the place she had quietly chosen to haunt.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep