Chapter 170: The Girl Who Eats Dirt

The night passed in utter stillness, the kind of quiet that made even the ticking clock sound loud. Faint moonlight slid over the floor before fading with dawn. As the alarm buzzed at seven, Kouya opened his eyes precisely on time, his routine unwavering.

He stretched lazily, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and sat up. Just then, from the balcony came the faint sound of bare feet—soft, light, almost musical. Menma appeared, hopping forward with both hands clasped behind her back. She leaned forward slightly, her big blue eyes shining like gemstones as she smiled brightly.

“Good morning, Kouya-sama!” she greeted with cheerful energy that didn’t belong to the dead.

Kouya blinked, still half asleep. “Mm,” he replied simply, standing and dressing without ceremony. His movements were practiced—wash face, brush teeth, comb hair. Even with a ghost girl now living in his home, nothing in his morning routine had changed.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Menma was standing shyly near the kitchen. Her pale fingers fidgeted before her chest, and her lips curved into an apologetic pout.

“Kouya-sama… I’m sorry. I can’t help with breakfast…” she said softly.

“It’s fine. I don’t eat breakfast anyway.”

Menma blinked in disbelief. “Eh? But—but good kids shouldn’t skip breakfast!”

Kouya’s mouth twitched. “Good kids, huh?”

That was a pretty simple moral compass—eat breakfast and you’re a good person? He wondered how many so-called ‘honor students’ she’d ever met who lived by that rule.

Suppressing a sigh, he opened the fridge and pulled out a piece of bread and a carton of milk. As he sat and began eating, the apartment filled with soft morning light filtering through the curtains.

He was halfway through his meal when he noticed her again—Menma had pulled up a chair beside him, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. Her gaze followed each of his bites like an eager cat watching a dangling string.

Kouya looked up, eyebrow raised. “What? You can’t eat, you know.”

“Ah! I forgot again!” Menma tapped her forehead and giggled sheepishly. “But watching you eat, it almost feels like I can taste it too. It looks so good!”

Kouya sighed through his nose. “…Sure.”

After finishing, he slung his school bag over his shoulder and headed toward the door.

Menma followed him on tiptoes, her translucent figure shimmering faintly in the morning light. “Come home soon, Kouya-sama!” she called with a bright wave.

He waved a hand without turning back. “Yeah, yeah.”

Outside, the sun had fully risen, flooding the streets with warmth. The sky stretched endlessly blue, dotted with slow-drifting clouds. The faint hum of the city mixed with the soft rustle of leaves.

As Kouya descended the steps, something made him glance upward.

There she was—Menma on the balcony, leaning over the railing with her chin resting on her arms. When their eyes met, her lips curved into a wide, radiant smile.

The morning breeze lifted her silver hair, strands catching the sunlight like threads of starlight. Her eyes narrowed into crescent moons, her whole expression glowing with the same gentle beauty as the small flower blooming quietly beside her.

…

At the apartment gate, there was no sign of Takanashi Rikka. She was probably still curled up in bed, recovering from her shift at the café the night before.

Instead, Kouya found two familiar figures on his way to school—Satania and Vigne, walking side by side.

“Good morning, Kouya,” Vigne greeted politely with her usual composed smile.

“Morning.”

Satania, on the other hand, had teary eyes and a sniffly nose. “Attendant! You’re late again!”

Kouya side-eyed her. “Let me guess—your melon bread got stolen again?”

Vigne pressed her lips together with a helpless look. “Yes. That’s the sixth one this week…”

Satania slammed a fist into her palm. “That stupid mutt! Next time, I’ll teach it who’s boss!”

Kouya sighed inwardly. In a week, losing six melon breads to the same dog wasn’t bad luck anymore—it was pure incompetence.

The trio arrived at the school gate. From another path came a girl with long, silky black hair—Machiko, walking quietly with her book bag pressed to her chest.

“Machiko! Come with us!” Vigne waved her over.

Machiko lifted her head. When her eyes met Kouya’s, she hesitated briefly but nodded, approaching with cautious steps. Ever since the café incident yesterday—where an unfortunate ‘outfit misunderstanding’ had been cleared up—she no longer looked like she’d faint just from seeing him. Her fear had simply been redirected—to Raphael.

Machiko glanced left and right as they walked, whispering, “Good… Raphael’s not here…”

And as if summoned by those exact words, a soft, teasing voice purred right beside her ear: “Ara~ Did Machiko-chan miss me already?”

Kouya groaned. “Yeah, called it.”

“Ehhh!? Ehhhhh!?” Machiko’s eyes widened as she flailed backward. Her foot caught the edge of a step, and she pitched forward with a startled cry.

Kouya stood beside her, motionless. Not because he wanted another glimpse under her skirt—especially since she’d clearly taken precautions today with safety shorts—but because someone else had already acted faster.

A flash of white. Raphael appeared, catching Machiko neatly before she hit the ground.

“Th-thank you!” Machiko mumbled, dazed. Then her relief turned into a startled squeak.

“Nyaa~!?”

She looked down—and saw Raphael’s hand casually resting against her chest.

Machiko’s entire body went red. Her thoughts froze, her brain crashed, and steam practically rose from her head.

Raphael only smiled sweetly, utterly shameless. Known among the group as the ‘Boob-Groping Demon,’ she had already teased Vigne, Gabriel, Satania, and even Rikka. Her mastery of the art was beyond question.

She clasped her hands together, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Hehe~ Thanks for the treat, Machiko-chan~”

Kouya palmed his face. “…Seriously?”

Thanks for the treat!? What kind of perverted line was that supposed to be!? What next—asking for seconds!?

Vigne quickly stepped in, grabbing a rolled-up paper from her bag and smacking Raphael lightly on the head. “Raphi! Enough already. Stop teasing her.”

Then she turned to Machiko, who was still red as a tomato. “Don’t be mad, class rep. She’s just kidding.”

Machiko stammered something incomprehensible, clutching her chest protectively as she bowed. “I-it’s fine! I just tripped! I have to go!” And she bolted away like a frightened rabbit fleeing a wolf.

Raphael chuckled behind her. “Aww~ She’s so cute when she’s embarrassed.”

Kouya muttered, “You really are an angel of chaos.”

…

By lunchtime, the classroom buzzed with chatter and the clatter of bento boxes. Kouya stretched, ready to head out for food, when Vigne approached his desk, her cheeks flushed and her fingers nervously twisting her skirt hem.

“Um… Kouya, there’s something I wanted to tell you…”

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated, glancing at the floor before murmuring, “Could I… maybe delay making your lunchbox until next week?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

That was rare. The dependable, punctual Vigne—the one who always kept her word—was actually backing out?

“Reason?” he asked.

Vigne’s blush deepened as she fiddled with her hair. “Because… I ran out of living expenses…” Her voice grew smaller with every word. “So I’ll have to wait until I get next month’s allowance… before I can make your bento again.”

Kouya sighed softly. That explained it.

After all, Gabriel had been dragging her everywhere lately—movies, hot springs, feeding Kanna, even buying snacks for those two fold-eared cats. Add the shared hotel bill from a few days ago, and it was no wonder she’d gone broke. The ‘responsible demon’ had officially become a ‘girl who eats dirt.’

He leaned back in his chair, giving her a slightly amused look. “You really let them drain your wallet, huh.”

Her shoulders drooped, and she looked even guiltier. “I-I didn’t mean to… It just kind of happened…”

He tapped a finger against the desk, thoughtful. “There’s still over a week until next month. What’s your plan until then?”

“D-don’t worry about it…” she muttered.

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