Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious

Chapter 164: Chapter 29

The streets leading toward the Kageyama household were filled with the lively, discordant sounds of Seijirou’s inner circle making their way to the mansion.

Despite the looming threat of exams, the “study session” was rapidly devolving into a weekend excursion of diverse interests and petty rivalries.

“Urgh, why should I be the one to hold your parasol?” Rei grumbled, her face flushed from the humidity as she walked a half-step behind Erina. “Don’t you have your servants usually doing this?”

Erina didn’t even look back, her posture perfectly straight and her pace leisurely, as if she were a Victorian duchess taking a stroll in a private garden.

“Unfortunately, I sneak out, so I am alone.” She offered a faint, elegant smile. “But, Tachibana Rei-san, you know I am incredibly frail. My constitution is delicate, like a hothouse flower. Would you rather see me collapse from a heatstroke and be rushed to the hospital than hold a simple parasol for me?”

“Tsk. Honestly? I think a hospital gown would suit you best,” Rei retorted.

But despite her venomous words, Rei made no movement to close the lace-trimmed canopy.

She adjusted her grip, ensuring that every inch of Erina was shaded, even as she herself took the full brunt of the sun’s glare on her own shoulders.

Furthermore, Rei was practically a pack mule as she was carrying both of their bags that are filled with clothes and books.

Even when Erina had offered—insisted, even—to carry her own weight earlier, Rei had simply snapped, “You’d probably snap in half under the weight of a pencil,” to hide her stubborn concern for the “frail” girl.

“My, I think I look good no matter what I wear.” Erina chuckled.

“You’d look good with black eye too, wanna try?” Rei raised her fist.

Erina wisely chose to shut her mouth.

*

Meanwhile, on another block behind them, the atmosphere was significantly less tense.

Renji and Sakai walked side by side, their minds far removed from the rigors of algebra.

“Fufu, this time I brought some games I haven’t played yet,” Renji said, patting his pockets with a conspiratorial wink. “A new RPG and a fighting game that just dropped. Let’s fire them up later.”

“I wanted to bring my console too, but my mother got mad and made me bring this instead,” Sakai said, holding up a meticulously packaged cake with the care one might give a newborn child. “She said it’s her new recipe and she wanted the Boss to have the first taste.”

“Oh! Auntie’s new recipe!” Renji’s eyes widened, his stomach letting out a treacherous growl. “Can I have a piece?! It’s been ages since I’ve eaten anything she made!”

“Hm, later,” Sakai said, pulling the box closer to his chest. “My mom would murder me if she found out I let you taste it before the Boss. You want to see me dead? Because that’s how I die.”

As for the actual “study session” they were supposed to be attending? Neither of them seemed to remember what the word meant.

*

Meanwhile, on another block, Yukina was staring at Emi in a state of pure, unadulterated shock.

“No, Emi… why did you bring an entire manga collection?” Yukina asked, gesturing to the heavy stacks Emi was balancing in her arms, not to mention the backpack that looked like it was about to burst at the seams.

“I want to read them with Seijirou later,” Emi stated simply, her voice as flat as a dial tone. “Why? You want to borrow some? I mean, it’s okay, just promise me a signed copy of your sister’s new manga.”

“No, we’re here to study! Study, Emi! Why are you bringing a manga full of fantasy and romance?” Yukina asked, feeling her blood pressure rise.

“But you can learn a lot from reading manga.”

“Yeah, like how you seriously need to study to not fail!”

Emi stopped walking and turned toward her friend as she adopted a look of supreme, stoic smugness, though her facial muscles barely moved. “Did you know babies have about 300 bones, while adults have around 206?”

Yukina blinked, thrown off by the sudden trivia. “I… didn’t. Why?”

Emi snorted twice—a sign of her great intellectual victory. “See? I learned that from a manga where a villain was using babies as experiments for his magic research. So you see, Yukina, you can learn many things from manga. It is an educational medium.”

“But those are completely irrelevant to our lessons!” Yukina exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

“Irrelevant? Theen, let me ask you, are we not learning biology in science class?” Emi countered, her logic as cold as steel. “We are. Having this knowledge could be useful. You never know, maybe our science teacher would one day call out to me and ask me how many bones a baby has. And I will have some extra points for answering correctly.”

“Yeah, that’s never going to happen!”

“And that’s why you wouldn’t be able to answer, and I can,” Emi replied, turning back to continue her march. “Hmph. You should thank me for telling it to you. You are now smarter than you were five minutes ago.”

“Goddammit!” Yukina shouted to the sky, trailing after the silent manga enthusiast.

*

*

*

While the rest of the gang was still trekking through the neighborhood—Rei playing pack mule and Emi defending the educational value of baby-bone trivia—the atmosphere inside the Kageyama household was a whirlwind of domestic energy.

In the spacious, modern kitchen, the air was thick with the savory aroma of dashi and the sharp, clean scent of chopped ginger.

Yuko presided over the stove like a conductor, but she wasn’t alone.

Rindou and Suzune who were the first to arrive, alongside Haruka had formed a somewhat chaotic but efficient assembly line around the center island.

“Rindou-san, the carrots need to be in uniform julienne strips, not matchsticks for a fireplace,” Yuko teased gently, glancing over at the Student Council President.

Rindou, who was focusing on a carrot with the same intensity she usually reserved for a life-or-death duel, didn’t look up.

Her ki was practically buzzing inside her with the effort of precision as she replied, “Order must be maintained in all things, Yuko-san. If the vegetables are uneven, the cooking time will fluctuate. A disorganized stew is the first step toward a disorganized life.”

“She’s been at that one carrot for three minutes,” Suzune whispered loudly to Haruka, while she herself was vigorously shaking a jar of homemade dressing. “At this rate, we’ll be eating dinner by the time the stew is done. Hey, Rindou-chan, try using your ki on the carrot. It’ll save time.”

“I refuse to use supernatural powers for cutting carrots, Suzune,” Rindou retorted, though a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Haruka, standing perfectly still as she measured out spices with a scale that looked like it belonged in a laboratory, spoke up without looking away from her work.

“Statistically, the probability of Rindou-san finishing the vegetables before the meat reaches its optimal searing temperature is currently 14%.” She then tured towards Suzune, “and I suggest Suzune-san to stop vibrating the dressing and assists with the peeling. Your kinetic energy is causing the table to oscillate.”

“Oscillate? The heck does that even mean? Stop making up words please.” Suzune laughed, leaning over to bump her shoulder against Haruka’s. “You really look like an android. Come on, Haruka-chan, give us a smile. We’re cooking for Seiji! Isn’t that supposed to be a ’high-affection event’ in your logic?”

Haruka’s hand paused for a micro-second over the cumin.

“Cooking is a survival necessity and a communal bonding ritual. Affection is a secondary chemical byproduct. However…” She glanced toward the living room, where the muffled sound of an action movie’s explosion echoed. “The data suggests that Seijirou-sama’s dopamine levels increase by 22% when he eats my mother’s cooking. It is… acceptable.”

“Only acceptable?” Yuko laughed, leaning over to pinch her daughter’s cheek. “You once stayed up until 3:00 AM perfecting the spice ratio for the curry when you found out Seijirou-sama liked it. My daughter is a ’tsundere’ for her own cooking, isn’t she?”

“Mother, please desist,” Haruka said, her ears turning a faint pink. “The ’tsundere’ archetype is inefficient and lacks emotional clarity. I am simply ensuring quality control.”

“Sure, sure,” Suzune teased, grabbing a finished carrot strip and popping it into her mouth. “Quality control for the man of the house. Hey, Yuko-san, I heard from Haruka that Seiji help you with the shopping? Can that be considered a date?”

Yuko’s expression softened into something sweet and slightly mischievous. “Maybe. And he was a perfect gentleman. He even let the neighborhood grandmothers believe we were a honeymooning couple. He’s quite bold when he wants to be.”

Rindou’s knife slipped, making a slightly louder thud against the cutting board. “A honeymooning… couple? Date?”

She haven’t gone into a date with Seijirou yet!

“Oh? Is the President jealous?” Suzune crowed, waving her whisk like a wand. “Don’t worry, Rindou-chan. You can have a date after me, after all, I think I’ll consider you as a second wife, and Haruka might be the third.”

As for Yukina and Emi…hmm, they can come later. It’s her little revenge for sleeping with Seijirou before her.

And as for whether their marriage would be accepted, well, Seijirou is Christian, the god they believed in, Haedeus, was said to have several wives, so for them, polygamy was accepted and is pretty common.

“I have not agreed to be a ’Third Wife,’” Haruka interjected tonelessly. “In a polyamorous hierarchy, my intelligence would naturally place me in a strategic advisory role, regardless of numerical ranking.”

“See? She’s already planning the marriage! Rindou, you’re okay being second right?” Suzune laughed, ducking as Rindou playfully swiped at her with a wooden spoon.

While the kitchen was filled with harmonious atmosphere, in the sofa in the living room, Seijirou lay with his head back, watching a car chase on the screen.

He could hear the peals of laughter, the sharp clink of knives, and the constant bickering coming from the kitchen as a small, satisfied smirk played on his lips.

He didn’t need to be in the room to know they were getting along; the “Order” of his house was exactly where it needed to be.