Chapter 206: The Shrine Maiden’s Bath Photo

Steady, deliberate footsteps echoed through the empty street.

Under the silvery light of the moon, a tall man emerged from the shadows—his posture straight, his face expressionless, and his eyes cold as glass. The faint wind tugged at his long coat, carrying a chill that seemed to seep into the air itself.

“I don’t know you,” the man said at last, his voice deep and steady, carrying a weight that made the silence seem heavier.

Then, without another word, he raised his hand toward Kouya. His palm opened with casual confidence as he spoke flatly:

“Give me that cat demon.”

To any ordinary human, a yokai was little more than superstition. But to an onmyouji, even a small, untrained one was a potential treasure—a living tool that could be molded, bound, and used as a servant. Especially when it was young and pliant, before its will had fully formed.

The little cat demon perched on Kouya’s shoulder immediately froze at the sound of the man’s voice. Its fur bristled as it pressed closer against Kouya’s neck, trembling. Its two tiny claws gripped the boy’s uniform tightly, and it let out a weak, frightened mewl, its golden eyes shimmering with fear. It wanted to run, but instead, it buried its face against Kouya’s collar as if the boy’s scent could protect it.

Kouya’s gaze flicked down at the trembling creature, his expression unreadable. After a brief pause, he said quietly, “I promised someone I’d take care of it for now. I’m not handing it over.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, his tone flattening even more. “Then there’s nothing left to discuss.”

He inhaled once, deeply. The wind stirred.

A faint vortex began to spin around his feet—swirling air filled with the sharp hiss of moving sand. The grains of dust danced upward, glowing faintly yellow under the moonlight. Then, with a single, sharp motion of his arm, they compressed and hardened into a weapon.

A spear—long, glimmering, and made entirely of swirling sand.

“The Sand Spear,” Kouya murmured under his breath, recognizing the technique.

The man’s stance shifted slightly, and the weapon lunged forward. The air rippled from the force of the throw, each ring of distortion spinning outward with a hiss. The spear cut through the space between them like lightning, its point trailing a bright streak.

No warning. No hesitation. He had decided to kill.

“Meow!” The cat demon screamed, its small body trembling so violently that its tail puffed up like a brush. It clawed desperately at Kouya’s clothes, eyes wide with horror. Yet Kouya didn’t move to dodge.

He simply raised his right hand into the air.

A soft sound—almost too light to be real—echoed. The spear disintegrated instantly, scattering back into harmless dust that glowed briefly before fading into the night.

Ishida Ryuji’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected his strike to be nullified so easily. Surprise turned into sharp alertness. His spine straightened, and he gave a stiff bow.

“Ishida Ryuji of the Ishida Clan,” he said, his voice full of forced composure. “Please, allow me to test your strength.”

“Not interested,” Kouya replied, shaking his head.

Ryuji’s frown deepened. The sand around his feet began to churn again, rising in thick spirals that encased his limbs. They hardened into armor—gritty, stone-colored plates that clung to his body like a second skin. A blade formed in his right hand, its edge jagged and humming with the energy of compressed sand.

With one stomp, the ground cracked beneath his feet.

He launched forward like an arrow, the air splitting around him. The blade flashed downward, blazing with such heat that the night air itself distorted, and sparks flared where it passed.

“Pathetic,” Kouya muttered softly. There was no emotion in his tone—just quiet boredom.

The man’s attack might have looked impressive, but to Kouya, it was little more than a child’s tantrum. Compared to the beings he had encountered, this was nothing. Even Tohru or Kanna could end him in an instant, perhaps without even noticing.

The fight wasn’t worth the effort. It was already past eight o’clock, and honestly, he’d rather be home playing games.

Kouya exhaled. The faint air of laziness around him dissipated like smoke.

“First Seal—open.”

The words came out calm and quiet—but the world changed in an instant.

A pulse of invisible force burst outward from him. The ground shuddered. The air grew heavy, so thick that even breathing seemed impossible.

Ryuji froze mid-charge. His blade faltered. His body stiffened as if he’d been thrown into an ocean of ice. His mind screamed for him to move, but every instinct told him that moving meant death.

A single bead of cold sweat rolled down his temple and splashed against the ground.

Now, finally, he understood the terror that woman had felt earlier.

Kouya took one step forward—and in the blink of an eye, he was gone from his previous spot, reappearing directly in front of Ryuji.

A calm gaze. A slight movement.

Then, a punch.

No aura. No heat. No sound.

Just a simple strike.

But the impact made Ryuji’s vision white out. The world blurred as the pain crashed through his body like a shockwave.

“I’m taking the cat,” Kouya said, his tone level as if he were commenting on the weather. He turned away and walked off, the cat still quietly perched on his shoulder.

Ryuji didn’t move. He stood there, frozen, even as Kouya’s figure disappeared into the moonlit street. Then, the armor of sand that covered his body cracked.

A sharp sound echoed—like glass breaking—and the fragments of sand fell away, scattering across the ground. From somewhere, an eerie shriek rose and faded—the dying cry of a shikigami severed from its master.

“Unbelievable…” Ryuji whispered hoarsely, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes burned with disbelief and awe. “That power… who is he really…?”

…

Kouya didn’t look back once.

To him, the fight was already forgotten. Whether Ryuji nursed his wounds or gathered allies was irrelevant. As long as they didn’t cross his boundaries, they could live. If they did… well, a simple gesture would erase them.

The city was silent as he walked, the faint hum of streetlights mixing with the sound of his footsteps. The cat demon shifted on his shoulder, curling up nervously but peeking at him from the corner of its eyes. It still trembled faintly, though Kouya’s steady breathing seemed to calm it little by little.

He sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket. The glow of the screen briefly lit his face as he dialed.

The call connected with a soft click.

“Hello? Kou-nii?” A cheerful, bright voice answered, high and melodic.

“Hm? Hinata?” Kouya raised a brow.

“Yup! It’s me!” The mischievous little girl’s voice was full of excitement. “Onee-sama’s in the bath right now, and her phone’s charging! I saw it was you calling, so I picked up! I wanted to talk to you anyway!”

Her tone was sugary and carefree, the kind of voice that made it impossible to stay annoyed.

“Oh, and guess what? I’m going to my friend’s house this weekend! And maybe—just maybe—I’ll get to meet Eromanga-sensei!” she said proudly, her words tumbling over each other in breathless joy.

Then her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “By the way, Kou-nii… wanna see a picture?”

“A picture?” Kouya blinked. “What picture?”

Her voice dropped lower, full of mischief. “It’s of Onee-sama… taking a bath.”

Kouya nearly dropped his phone. “Pfft—what?!”

“She looks so pretty, you know!” Hinata said with a giggle. “I’ll send it to you! Just bring me some cookies next time you visit, okay?”

Kouya rubbed his temple, exhaling sharply. So cookies were the real motive all along.

Still, now that she’d said it… his curiosity betrayed him for a moment.

Before he could object, the line went dead.

A moment later, his phone buzzed.

An unread message appeared on his screen. No subject. Just one name—Hinata.

He stared at it in silence. The cat on his shoulder tilted its head curiously as if sensing his hesitation.

Inside… could it really be that kind of photo?

If the shrine maiden was in the bath, she obviously wouldn’t be wearing anything. The thought made his pulse quicken against his will.

Should he open it… or not?

After a few seconds, he sighed, surrendering to temptation. His finger hovered over the message.

And right then, his phone rang again.

He answered automatically.

“Kouya-kun?” A calm, serene voice came through the line—the shrine maiden’s herself.

“Y-yeah, it’s me.” Kouya coughed lightly, feeling an odd wave of guilt.

“Hinata was being mischievous again,” she said softly, though her voice held a trace of flustered irritation. “I’ve already dealt with her.”

Kouya wisely kept quiet, not daring to add fuel to that fire.

“You don’t usually call me like this, Kouya-kun. Was there something you wanted?” she continued after a pause, her tone gentler now—almost teasing. “After all, this is the first time you’ve ever called me first.”

Something about her tone made Kouya’s chest tighten slightly. There was warmth there—subtle but unmistakable.

He hesitated for a moment, remembering something he’d once read online about reading between the lines when talking to girls. When a girl says she’s cold, it doesn’t mean she wants you to tell her to put on a jacket. When she says she’s lonely, it’s not for you to agree—it’s for you to stay.

After a short pause, he murmured, “Then maybe… I should call you more often?”

Her laughter was soft and clear. “That would be lovely,” she said. “By the way, Kouya-kun… what was it you wanted to tell me just now?”

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