Chapter 37: Breakfast

After sending Vigne downstairs, Kouya carried the paper box back to the apartment, handed the two kittens to the cat-loving old lady downstairs, and finally went back to rest. The moment he lay down, his mind relaxed completely, the faint sound of rain tapping against the windows soothing him into a calm, dreamless sleep.

The night passed quietly.

At dawn the next day, before the heavy darkness had lifted, the crisp sound of the doorbell rang. It was so sudden and sharp in the morning silence that it seemed to cut through the still air.

Kouya stirred under the blanket, blinking sleep from his eyes. The faint gray light of dawn crept in through the curtains, and the sound of early birds outside mixed faintly with the hum of the city far away. He reached for his phone, squinting at the screen—it was only six fifteen.

The first rays of sunlight were barely brushing the edges of the skyline. The city still slumbered in that hazy space between night and morning.

Kouya sighed softly, dragged himself up, and went to open the door.

As expected, standing outside was none other than Vigne.

However, since today was a day off, she had changed her clothes—not the usual crisp school uniform, but something far more casual and natural.

She wore a spotless short-sleeved white shirt that contrasted with her soft hair, paired with dark blue slim jeans that traced her legs neatly, and simple white canvas shoes. The clean, bright colors gave her a fresh, almost radiant air, as if she were part of the morning light itself.

But on her shoulder was a small pink witch backpack, decorated with tiny charms that jingled faintly as she moved, completely destroying the mature image she seemed to aim for.

Kouya’s lips twitched, and he couldn’t help laughing out loud.

“What’s so funny!”

Already feeling embarrassed about the backpack, Vigne’s face turned rosy as she glared at him. “It’s just a backpack!”

Then she muttered under her breath, “The one I use for school is too big, so I could only use this one… it’s still perfectly fine, buying another would be wasteful…”

The bag looked packed to the brim, bulging in odd shapes as if it contained both necessities and random trinkets.

Vigne blinked, her expression brightening as she asked eagerly, “Those two little meow-meows, they’re fine, right? Nothing happened to them?”

After Kouya reassured her, Vigne visibly relaxed, her shoulders dropping as she let out a long sigh of relief. “Then let’s go see them right away?”

“But it’s still too early. The old lady isn’t up yet.” Kouya spread his hands helplessly.

“Oh…” Vigne’s tone fell, her eyes dimming slightly. “Then… we’ll wait a while, I guess.”

“Right, this is the money from dinner yesterday.” Vigne reached into her small bear-shaped wallet, carefully counted thirty thousand yen, and handed it to Kouya. “Here.”

“Mm.” Kouya accepted it without hesitation. Money offered was money earned—there was no reason to refuse.

“When does the old lady usually wake up?” Vigne asked curiously.

“Usually around seven.”

“Oh.” She nodded thoughtfully. “Then I’ll go see if Gabi-chan’s awake.”

But after pressing the doorbell several times, the door remained stubbornly silent. A few seconds later, an irritated voice from the neighboring room bellowed:

“Stop pressing that! Do you even know what time it is?! Some people are trying to sleep!”

Vigne jumped, tongue poking out in embarrassment. “Maybe Gabi-chan went out already?”

“I’d say she stayed up all night again and is probably passed out,” Kouya said dryly, glancing up toward the ceiling.

“…”

“If you don’t mind, come inside and wait for a bit.” Kouya turned and walked in. “There should be slippers by the door. If you can’t find them, just come in with your shoes.”

Vigne looked around the misty, quiet courtyard for a second before stepping inside, lowering her voice. “Then… I’ll trouble you, Kouya-kun.”

It was her first time stepping into a boy’s apartment, and a faint tension coiled in her chest. Her eyes darted around instinctively, taking everything in. The place was ordinary—lived-in but tidy. No tissues scattered, no questionable magazines, nothing that made her feel awkward. Compared to Gabriel’s chaotic room next door, this was practically pristine.

Still, there were traces of daily life—shirts casually draped on the chair, books half-stacked on the table, a faint scent of laundry detergent mixed with the smell of morning air.

“If you want to watch TV, go ahead.” Kouya said as he walked into the bathroom.

For the Demon King, sleep wasn’t essential. And with someone else in the house, he wasn’t planning on going back to bed anyway.

“Thank you,” Vigne said politely, then sat down and turned on the TV. But her attention didn’t stay there for long—her gaze wandered around restlessly. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt as she looked at the slightly messy books and clothes, fighting the urge to clean.

When Kouya came out, the apartment had transformed. The clothes from yesterday were already tumbling in the washing machine, the table was spotless, and his books and manga were neatly arranged by size on the shelf.

He blinked in mild disbelief. “…”

Vigne’s face flushed. “Um… it just felt uncomfortable seeing things out of order, so I… cleaned up a bit.”

Kouya shrugged. Having someone clean his place was a rare blessing. “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Eh?” Vigne blinked in surprise. “Kouya-kun can cook?”

“Why not?”

“But… everyone says guys our age can’t even fry an egg!”

“What kind of outdated nonsense is that?” Kouya muttered. “These days it’s the guys who are getting good at cooking. We’re in a golden age of househusbands, you know.”

He grumbled good-naturedly as he opened the fridge, pulled out eggs, noodles, and a few condiments, and began working. His movements were careful but awkward, like someone used to managing magic rather than a kitchen knife.

Watching him, Vigne shifted anxiously. “Um… how about I take over? As thanks for helping the kittens yesterday?”

“Sure.” Kouya didn’t argue.

Vigne tied on the apron, her expression determined. “Don’t help! You sit and watch TV!”

Kouya lifted an eyebrow, amused, but obeyed.

Soon, the scent of boiling noodles and soy broth filled the small kitchen. Steam fogged the window as Vigne hummed softly while cooking. When she brought the bowls to the table, the noodles looked perfect—pale, glossy strands with green onions sprinkled like confetti.

“Because there wasn’t much left in the fridge, I just made two bowls of chilled soba noodles…”

Soba, one of Japan’s three great noodle dishes, could be served hot or cold. The cold version—simple, refreshing—was a perfect match for early summer mornings.

Kouya picked up his chopsticks and took a bite. The noodles were cool and springy, smooth on the tongue, carrying the faint saltiness of soy and the aroma of dashi.

“Tastes good,” he said, honestly impressed.

Vigne smiled faintly, her eyes bright with quiet pride, and began eating too. For a while, only the sound of chopsticks and the faint murmur of the TV filled the room.

After breakfast, they stayed on the couch, flipping through channels. The sun climbed higher, flooding the room with warm light.

By the time the clock neared eight, Vigne was growing restless again. Finally, outside the window, the familiar figure of the cat-loving old lady appeared, shuffling across the courtyard with her feline entourage.

“Let’s go!” Vigne sprang up, grabbing her bag and heading for the stairs.

The residential complex stretched quietly under the clear sky—square buildings framed by trees, patches of grass still damp with dew, and winding stone paths between them.

Most residents were still indoors, either working or sleeping in, leaving the courtyard peaceful.

The old lady was strolling with several cats, all on colorful leashes. The cats meowed lazily, tails swaying like soft plumes.

“Good morning, Grandma!”

The old lady turned, initially frowning from being interrupted, but her face softened instantly upon seeing Kouya behind Vigne. “Oh, young man, you’re here.”

Kouya offered a small, polite smile and gestured toward Vigne. “She’s the classmate I mentioned yesterday.”

“Ah, I see!” the old lady said warmly. “Good kids who love cats can’t possibly be bad!”

“…”

Kouya sighed inwardly. Cats really were magical creatures. Besides catching mice, they could charm people into forgiveness, star in endless master-servant dramas, and even become gods in ancient Egypt. Who knows—maybe one day, if aliens ever invaded Earth, cats might just end up being our ultimate secret weapon.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep