Chapter 204: Your Mom’s Calling You Home for Dinner

“Penguins really are adorable,” Vigne said, her eyes sparkling with genuine delight as she clasped her hands together.

“Penguins, huh?” Kouya muttered, taking a long sip of cola. His face twisted slightly, more out of confusion than agreement.

Those clumsy creatures that couldn’t walk without waddling side to side like drunks, practically tipping over with each step? Cute? They were ridiculous. He could still remember the documentary he’d watched years ago—half of them slipped on ice and faceplanted every few seconds. Adorable? Maybe to people who liked chaos.

Why was it that every girl thought of penguins and went, “So cute!”—while the first image that popped into his head was that blue-eyed dragon hatchling he’d seen before, gleefully chomping one down in a single bite? That tiny beast had drooled all over the place before swallowing it whole.

‘Yeah, that seemed more realistic. In that dragon’s logic, cute equaled snack.’

He could almost hear it now—“Ahh, fresh from the pole, crunchy and cold.”

Satania slammed her hands on the table, pointing dramatically at Gabriel. “Gabriel! When summer break comes, I challenge you to a duel at the beach! We’ll decide who reigns supreme in the sea of destiny!”

Gabriel, in contrast, didn’t even raise her head. “No thanks,” she replied lazily, chewing her bento without enthusiasm. “I’d rather stay home. There’ll be too many people. Sunburn, crowds, noise. Pass.”

Satania gasped as if struck by lightning. “W-What!? You coward! You’re scared of losing to me, aren’t you!?”

A rumble of imaginary thunder rolled overhead, or maybe it was just in Satania’s mind. Either way, she froze dramatically, eyes wide and lifeless.

Vigne pressed a palm to her forehead and sighed. “Let’s… save the duels for another time, okay?” she said gently, already regretting ever suggesting a trip.

—

Time slipped by quickly, and before long, the bell rang to mark the end of the day. Students flooded out of classrooms, laughter and chatter filling the hallways.

Because Rikka was still feeling weak, Vigne, Gabriel, and Satania decided to escort her home together. Kouya stayed behind, watching them disappear down the street through the classroom window. He didn’t follow. Something else was bothering him.

Machiko.

That faint, unsettling trace of youkai energy still lingered in his memory. He needed to know what it meant. If it was harmless, fine. But if it wasn’t… then he couldn’t ignore it.

He knew Vigne would be furious if something happened to Machiko while he’d noticed the signs and done nothing.

After class, Machiko gathered her things and left for her clubroom. She belonged to a small cooking club—just a handful of students who spent their afternoons experimenting with recipes, laughing, and sharing snacks. The smell of sugar and spices drifted through the air as they worked. At around five o’clock, Machiko waved goodbye to her friends and headed out.

From a distance, Kouya followed quietly, hands in his pockets. The sun was low, painting the sky orange and gold. He noticed her house wasn’t far—just a few streets from the school. So the other day, when she’d taken the train, it must’ve been to shop somewhere else. He smirked faintly. Probably to pick up some questionable games from one of those stores she thought no one knew about.

Instead of going home, Machiko turned toward a convenience store and clocked in for her part-time shift. Kouya waited outside, leaning against a lamppost, watching customers come and go. The neon sign flickered faintly as the sky darkened.

When she finally stepped out, it was past seven. The streets were quieter now, painted in silver moonlight. She had changed into a casual blouse and skirt, her hair tied back loosely. In one hand, she carried a small bag of groceries; in the other, her phone.

A cool breeze drifted through the night, carrying the faint smell of rain. Her long black hair fluttered behind her as she walked toward home. But halfway there, she stopped, glancing toward a small park. Without hesitation, she turned and walked in.

Kouya frowned, keeping a safe distance. The park was dim, lit only by a single flickering streetlamp. Crickets sang somewhere in the grass. He followed her quietly.

Machiko crouched near a patch of bushes, carefully smoothing her skirt as she knelt. She tucked her hair behind her ear and called softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Meow-meow? Where are you? Come out, little one.”

Kouya blinked, caught off guard by how gentle she sounded. This was the same composed, serious girl from class? The one who raised her hand precisely when called on and never forgot her homework? Now she looked like a child, eyes soft, voice warm.

A tiny sound answered her. “Meow~.”

From the shadows emerged a kitten no bigger than her palm, fur shimmering silver under the moonlight. It blinked up at her, tilted its head, and gave another small cry.

“There you are,” Machiko whispered, smiling as she opened the bag. “You must be hungry again. I bought milk and cookies just for you.”

The kitten’s tail flicked as it crept forward, sniffing curiously.

Kouya’s gaze sharpened. To anyone else, it would look like an ordinary stray—but to him, the faint, shimmering mist clinging to its fur told another story. Youkai energy. Weak, but unmistakable.

‘So that’s it. She’s been feeding a cat spirit.’

He exhaled softly. The shrine maiden had mentioned strange energies near the city. Now he understood why. These low-level spirits were harmless most of the time—but they knew how to charm humans. Just a few pitiful meows, a brush against your leg, and suddenly you were working overtime to buy them treats.

No curses. No hypnotic powers. Just irresistible manipulation.

The feline apocalypse was coming, one soft paw at a time.

Kouya shook his head, pulling out his phone. “Guess I’ll have to call the shrine maiden—”

But then he froze.

Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, echoing from the far end of the path.

Cold dread rippled through the air.

The kitten hissed sharply, its fur standing on end. It backed up behind Machiko, trembling.

Machiko turned, startled, and saw a tall man emerging from the darkness. He wore a long black coat, his steps precise and unhurried. His eyes—sharp, metallic, emotionless—fixed on her and the small creature she held.

“Give it to me,” he said, voice like stone.

Machiko blinked, clutching the kitten tighter. “E-Excuse me? Are you… adopting it?”

He paused, expression unreadable. “No. I’m here to eliminate it.”

“Eliminate…?” she repeated softly, confusion turning to dread.

“Kill it,” he said simply.

Machiko gasped. “W-What!? N-No! You can’t!” she cried, stumbling backward and cradling the kitten protectively. “It’s just a baby!”

The man advanced slowly, eyes unblinking. The kitten whimpered, pressing itself against her chest, shaking violently.

The air thickened. The pressure was suffocating. Machiko wanted to run, scream, do anything—but her legs refused to move. It was as if her body had frozen solid.

“Stop! I-I’ll call the police!” she shouted, fumbling for her phone.

A soft, mocking laugh cut through the night.

“Calling the police won’t save you, girl.”

A woman stepped into view, tall and strikingly beautiful, her presence radiating cold menace. Her lips curled into a smile as she glanced at the man. “Ishida Ryuuji. It’s been a while.”

Machiko’s eyes darted between them. “You… you know each other?”

The woman’s expression hardened, eyes flashing. “Oh, we know each other, all right. He humiliated me. Stole my shikigami right in front of my clan. I’ve dreamed of revenge ever since.”

Her voice grew sharper with every word, fury seeping into each syllable. “And tonight, I’ll have it. You’ll die here, Ryuuji—and this girl can bear witness.”

A wave of killing intent rolled across the park. Even the wind seemed to stop. The shadows thickened; the air trembled.

Machiko’s heart raced. “S-Shikigami? W-What are they even talking about? This has to be some kind of show, right? Like… hidden cameras?” Her voice cracked. “R-Right?”

But deep down, she already knew the answer.

The kitten in her arms whimpered again, its small body pressing closer.

Tension coiled like a spring. The world held its breath.

And then, from somewhere behind the trees, a calm, almost casual voice spoke:

“Machiko,” it said lightly. “Your mom sent me to tell you—it’s time to go home for dinner.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep