After Kisaki left, Kyousuke made a few more phone calls before finally breathing a sigh of relief and putting his phone away.
"That lunatic…"
As the metal blinds in the living room slowly rose, he couldn't help but curse under his breath.
Though he had appeared calm and composed in front of Kisaki, dealing with this sort of thing—while not exactly difficult for him—was still a hassle.
And who actually likes dealing with trouble?
Especially someone as naturally lazy as him.
If it hadn't been for this mess, he would've been in the kitchen already, happily making breakfast for his girls.
Just the thought of standing next to Shouko in the kitchen, the scent of sizzling oil in the air as they quietly enjoy each other's presence… that alone was enough to brighten his entire day.
So what if he ran a multimedia empire?
So what if his family's company was a long-time Olympic sponsor?
If it were up to him, Kisaki wouldn't have been standing at his front door last night—he would've been six feet under.
Still, he had to admit—Kosaka Akane was an absolute force to be reckoned with.
The woman had effortlessly tracked down every single candidate in a matter of hours, all without a single word of warning during the day.
She timed her move perfectly, striking the night before the interviews were to begin, leaving him with no chance to respond.
Swift and ruthless. Sharp as a blade that could split a strand of hair with a breeze. Just like Kisaki's report said—a terrifyingly competent woman.
Kyousuke understood: this was her way of flexing her power, of letting him know she wasn't someone to underestimate.
But Kosaka Akane—did she really think she could draw anything from him other than irritation?
Shock? Fear? Hesitation?
Was this the arrogance and confidence of a queen perched high above, looking down from her cloud-covered throne?
If so… had she forgotten who he was?
Did she not know that his name was Hojou Kyousuke?
For the first time in a while, a genuine thrill stirred in his chest.
Compared to someone like Kosaka Akane, Ishida Hidenori was nothing more than a clown.
A fake villain with a repulsive face, terrible fashion sense, and a habit of making dramatic entrances when he was no real threat—serving no purpose but to highlight the protagonist's superiority.
But a true villainess? She had long legs in black stockings, eyes that could kill, and a presence so dangerous that dying at her hands might feel like a blessing.
She wielded overwhelming information and struck before anyone could even react—relentless, powerful, and efficient, never wasting a single word.
In this regard, Kyousuke was rather pleased with his own response.
Right now, Kosaka Akane probably still thought he was panicking, buried in chaos.
She might even be wondering why he hadn't called to scream at her yet.
Maybe, she was smugly satisfied with her attack.
But just like he told Kisaki earlier—even if someone's holding a gun to your head at the edge of a cliff, you should still smile.
Even if you're hit in a vital spot, act like it's a blank round.
If you stay calm enough, they might even start to doubt whether they fired at all.
That, too, was a kind of information gap—a weapon forged in absolute adversity that could turn the tables at the last moment.
Kosaka Akane had used one to strike. And now, Kyousuke had his own.
As the blinds opened fully, he saw her.
A petite figure stood sweetly at the entrance of the living room, wearing soft pink loungewear and holding a crescent-shaped wooden comb in her hand.
Her eyes curved with a warm smile that instantly made him forget all his troubles.
"Good morning, Shouko," he greeted her as he slowly walked over, his face softening with a tenderness even he didn't notice.
"Good morning, Kyousuke-kun."
Bathed in the rising sun, Shouko's round cheeks lit up with a childlike joy.
"You could've slept in a bit longer," he said, brushing a stray eyelash off her forehead.
"I wanted to be the first one to see you," she replied with a quiet smile, eyes gently closing as she leaned into his touch.
She had planned this since last night—wanting to greet him first, maybe even cook together.
She wasn't like Eriri—if she wanted something, she would just tell Kyousuke directly~
He chuckled. "But I already ran into Kisaki, a few of the kitchen staff, and two of our neighbors this morning."
Shouko shook her head, puffing her cheeks. "They don't count!"
"Hahaha, you're right."
Looking at her messy hair and the comb in her hand, Kyousuke couldn't help but smile.
Shouko must've really rushed to be the first to greet him.
But then he noticed a glass of water, still full, sitting untouched on the kitchen counter.
His expression shifted slightly.
This idiot…
"How long have you been standing here?" he asked softly, crouching down to take the comb from her hand.
"Hehe, not too long," Shouko giggled, clearly not trying to hide her concern for him.
"It was some trouble from the animation studio. A bit messy, but I've taken care of it. Nothing you need to worry about," Kyousuke said, gently pulling her into the living room.
Shouko obediently sat down on the rug in the center of the room.
As he began to brush her hair, Kyousuke explained everything to her in his usual roundabout but reassuring way.
Through subtle clues, he'd pieced together just how long this silly girl had been standing here while he was on the phone, worried and silent.
If he didn't clear things up now, she would probably keep worrying for hours.
"I'm still not good enough to be a voice actress, but I can help you in other ways, Kyousuke-kun! I can clean, or buy lunch, or whatever you need!"
With his warm voice behind her and his hand running through her hair, the wooden comb gently grazing her scalp, Shouko closed her eyes in peace.
Her heart, which had been anxious just moments before, slowly calmed.
Though her lips still pouted slightly, her mind fumed quietly at Kosaka Akane—who had bullied her way into Kyousuke's company—and her fingers itched to help.
Kyousuke laughed softly.
"Shouko, just seeing you smile like that is more help than you know. No matter how tough things get, when I see your happy face, I feel like I can handle anything."
With practiced ease, he smoothed out the rebellious tufts of her hair, his hands gentle and sure.
The comb was one he had carved himself—not from any rare wood, just plain peachwood, but shaped with care.
The room fell into a tranquil silence, broken only by the soft rasp of the wooden teeth sliding through her hair.
Outside, the sun rose higher, its warmth slowly spreading.
Mist rose in the garden, refracting the light.
The sunlight, filtered through that thin haze, took on a visible form—streaming through the living room, falling across the rug and the two nestled figures, illuminating every detail of their peaceful morning.
The sunlight changed shape, becoming the quiet rhythm of everyday life.
After returning home from the dinner party the night before, most of the girls—egged on by Kyousuke's overly energetic mom—had stayed up far too late playing games.
So for now, the house was still quiet. And this peaceful, ordinary morning belonged only to the two of them.
It wasn't until Kyousuke finished brushing Shouko's hair—gently smoothing the sunlit strands that now gleamed with a soft pink hue down her back—that a door upstairs finally creaked open.
A mane of golden hair, wild like a lion's, cascaded behind the small figure that appeared.
Her usually clear, ocean-blue eyes were now half-lidded slits, groggy and unfocused.
With her left hand lazily scratching her head, her right hand slipped under her loose white T-shirt—either to scratch an itch or soothe a growling stomach.
Barefoot and half-asleep, the little blonde girl slowly tottered down the stairs, yawning one after another. It took her nearly two whole minutes to descend.
As if completely oblivious to the two people seated on the living room carpet, she made a beeline for the fridge, opened the upper-left door with her eyes still closed, and yawned again.
Shouko blinked in surprise—she almost thought she was seeing a ghost.
Eriri?
No way.
There's no way she'd be up at this hour.
Only Kyousuke understood what was going on the moment he saw her.
The second he laid eyes on that sleepy little figure, he smiled knowingly.
She must've been looking forward to today for a long time.
That's the only reason she'd manage to resist smashing her alarm clock and drag herself out of bed this early.
It was exactly this sentiment that fueled Kyousuke's earlier fury—and woke up his long-dormant fighting spirit.
Anyone trying to ruin these precious memories between him and the girls? They were all sentenced to death.
As for why she didn't notice him or Shouko?
Well… she was nearsighted.
Judging by her messy hair and pajamas, she clearly hadn't put in her contact lenses.
She probably wasn't even fully awake, teetering on that thin line between sleep and consciousness—the perfect state of mind for causing chaos and having no memory of it afterward.
This kind of situation only appeared in Kashiwagi Eiri-sensei's manga.
But right now, Kyousuke was only concerned with one thing:
"Drinking soda right after waking up will give you a stomachache."
"—Eh? KYAAAH!!"
The blonde girl let out a sharp yelp, her whole body jolting as if electrocuted.
The bottle of cola in her hand slipped and clattered to the floor.
"AHH!! My perfect, flawless, snow-white, adorable little foot—! That hurt!!"
Eriri shrieked with a voice half-choked in tears, immediately crouching down to clutch her injured foot and whimpering—not quietly, but dramatically and loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
"P-Perfect… fl-flawless…"
Shouko stammered, trying to repeat the phrase, but with her gentle nature, there was no way she could utter something so shameless.
Kyousuke could only shake his head, exasperated.
Even half-asleep, this girl was still this full of herself?
What, was she dreaming of herself in a fiery red dress, barefoot, begging him to wipe her feet dry? If so… well, those might've been his lines.
"But the bottle fell like… twenty centimeters away from your foot."
He sighed and handed the comb back to Shouko, who accepted it with a soft, knowing smile.
"Shut up!! It hurts! And you scared me and her too!"
Eriri huffed, glaring up at Kyousuke as he walked toward her.
Her watery eyes sparkled with dry tears—though there were probably more tears at the corners of her mouth than her eyes.
"What, am I going to evolve from 'The Handless Demon to the 'Terrified-Toes Devil' now?" Kyousuke joked, approaching with exaggerated seriousness.
"Pffft—hahaha! Shut it! You're still making jokes at a time like this? Keep it up and I'll order you to drop dead!"
Despite her scowl, Eriri couldn't hold back her grin.
Her sharp little canines peeked out again as she wrinkled her delicate nose and barked, "Well?! Help me up already!"
Lies.
The girl never intended to actually take his hand to get up.
She was planning to yank it and scare the hell out of him.
But then she glanced between the tight space between the fridge and the sofa, back to her delicate and flawless body… and wisely gave up on the plan.
Instead, her gaze drifted down to Kyousuke's bare feet.
Specifically… his big toe.
Decision made.
As soon as he got close enough, she'd lunge forward and chomp down.
That would teach him to underestimate the great Eriri!
Wait, wait—Eriri, are you still half-asleep? What kind of maniacal nonsense is this?!
Biting toes?! What happened to class and dignity?
She should be pulling Kyousuke down, forcing him to cradle her precious, flawless, snow-white foot, make him kiss it in apology for scaring her so badly!
Her mind spun with deranged scenarios, and just as she finalized her plan (and decided exactly which toes to stuff in Kyousuke's mouth first)… she suddenly found herself wrapped up in a familiar embrace.
"Good night~."
That calming voice came from just above her head.
Eriri looked up to see his chiseled jawline, those familiar brows and lips… and—without thinking—she let out a massive yawn.
"Good ni—wait, what the hell are you saying?! Put me on the sofa already! As compensation, I'll grant you the great honor of brushing Eriri-sama's glorious hair~"
She quickly snapped out of her daze, wrapped her pale arms naturally around Kyousuke's neck, and buried her sleepy face into his broad, solid chest.
Was her tone proud or just playful? Who could tell—but hearing such a crisp, lively voice from a girl first thing in the morning was enough to power anyone through the day.
"Yes ma'am." Kyousuke replied with a chuckle.
"Hmph!"
A sleepy grumble rumbled from within his chest.
Even as her butt touched the sofa, Eriri didn't open her eyes.
She simply nestled into the cushion, floating somewhere between sleep and consciousness, soaking in the comforting illusion of fantasy and reality merging into one.
In her mind, this was exactly how her mornings should begin: with her personal butler brushing her hair in reverent silence.
"Shouko, can I borrow that comb for a second?"
Wait, what?!
Shouko?!
Eriri's eyes snapped open, and she squinted—trying to glare, but mostly just aiming blindly toward the fuzzy silhouette in front of the sofa.
"Sh-Shouko?! Since when were you here?! Why are you up so early?! Don't you usually sleep in?! And when did you learn that invisibility trick from Megumi?!"
A flurry of panicked questions tumbled from her lips.
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no!
Shouko heard everything!
Dammit! It's all Kyousuke's fault!
Now Shouko probably thinks I'm some delusional otaku who can't tell reality from anime!
[TL Note – Too late -_-]
Why didn't he say she was here?!
Why did he yell and scare me like that?!
He deserves death! Triple death!!
And to think… she had woken up early, specifically because she wanted to ask him if there was anything she could help with today...
Shouko tilted her head slightly and offered a peaceful, knowing smile.
"I've been here the whole time, Eriri…"
"…Is that so…"
To be fair, Eriri had already resigned herself to the fact that Shouko probably knew all about this side of her.
So she recovered quickly, shrugging off her public embarrassment like a pro.
Well, I am the head of miscellaneous tasks in this household.
And as their fearless supervisor, I can't let Kyousuke out-shameless me. That would be… bad for morale.
I'm such a considerate boss!
Now… the only thing Eriri was struggling with was—
Should she still let that idiot brush her hair or not?
Shouko was sitting nearby.
If she saw this, she'd definitely think Eriri had gotten up early just so Kyousuke could brush her hair—and that would only puff up that guy's ego.
They were going to the company today, after all.
She was the supervisor, and he was the assistant.
She had to establish the proper hierarchy right from the start!
…But then again, wasn't that exactly why she came down so early in the first place?
She had planned to wake herself up with a sip of cola, then march over and bang on his door while yelling, "Lazy pig, get up!"
Just imagining it made her happy.
If Kyousuke still didn't get up, she'd jump on him and bounce on his stomach until he did.
But she'd have to move fast—if Aunt Mikiko or the others woke up, things could get awkward.
"I'll go prep the ingredients," Shouko said with a small smile, clearly amused by the range of expressions flashing across Eriri's face.
She handed the comb to Kyousuke with a knowing look before walking off to the kitchen.
Phew—
Watching the blurry figure disappear, Eriri let out a long sigh of relief.
Her mom was right: God reward those who push themselves beyond their limits.
Waking up before breakfast was practically a miracle for her—it had to be why luck was smiling on her.
The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Kyousuke.
That had to be fate.
"Hurry up, will you?" she whispered.
She thought she'd gotten up early, but not only was Shouko awake, even this sloth Kyousuke had already risen.
At this rate, the others would be getting up any moment now.
Kyousuke gave the comb a little squeeze.
He hadn't expected his entire morning to be spent brushing through people's tangles—literal and figurative.
Gathering up her golden hair in both hands, he pulled it over the back of the sofa and began to comb gently.
With each stroke, the girl curled up on the couch let out soft little moans of pleasure.
But soon realizing how embarrassing they sounded, she clamped her lips shut—only to start whimpering again a few seconds later.
"Sawamura-san," came a familiar voice, teasing and sharp, "why do you look so flushed and breathless in Kyousuke's arms when it's not even sunset yet?
Don't tell me that sobering soup you made him last night was actually a special concoction that keeps the body active but knocks out the mind? And then you sneaked into his room while he was—"
"STOP! Just stop right there! Don't start spewing your pervy delusions first thing in the morning! You're the only one I know who thinks like this, Kasumigaoka Utaha!"
"Oh? Is that so?" Utaha replied with a sly smile. "Then I guess you've never heard of the doujin author named Eri Kashiwagi.
Everything I just said was inspired by her stories. Honestly, she's a dangerous woman—besides spiked soup, her characters also use hypnosis and—"
"NO—NO MORE!!"
Eriri screamed, turning to bury her blushing face into the couch, her round little butt sticking up in protest.
Yes.
"Everyone."
By the time Kyousuke had started brushing her hair, the others—Kasumigaoka Utaha, Miyamizu Mitsuha, Ueno Naoka, Yukino Yukari, and Okudera Miki—had already woken up.
Only the two aunts, the little kids, and Yamauchi Sakura were still asleep.
No one knew how long they had all been standing there, quietly watching Eriri's embarrassing display.
Without a word, Kyousuke handed the comb to Mitsuha, asking her to take over, then greeted everyone and headed into the kitchen.
"Seriously, what are you even doing up this early? This isn't your natural habitat, you nocturnal creature!" Eriri's voice came muffled from the depths of the couch, like she'd been swallowed by it.
But when no one answered, she suddenly shot upright—so fast she nearly toppled over.
Mitsuha had to catch her.
"Ohhh—I get it now!" Eriri exclaimed dramatically. "You evil seductress! You're just trying to make a good impression 'cause Kyousuke's mom is visiting! Playing the role of a proper young lady who gets up early and follows all the rules, huh?"
She grinned smugly, not even needing to see Utaha's face to continue her attack.
"Too bad it won't work! Your jet-black hair, your vampire-like eyes—you reek of the night! Mikiko-san will see right through you in a second! Look, you're still yawning like a kid!"
"…You know," Utaha said with a raised eyebrow, "as much as I hate to admit it, I'm feeling kind of bad for Naoka here. Mistaking our very different figures must've been quite insulting—for both of us."
"Hey!" Ueno Naoka rolled her eyes. "Eriri's been roasting me nonstop and now you're taking shots too?"
"Sorry, Naoka!" Eriri quickly apologized. "This woman's just too cunning. But don't worry, if you keep eating properly, you'll keep growing. Just look at me!"
"Sigh… Eriri, maybe you should just stop talking and go back to your usual bickering with Utaha," Naoka groaned, waving her off.
Her chest felt tight, but she didn't dare pat it for relief—either of those two would take it as a sign their words had hit home.
"Mitsuha, would you mind helping me with my hair instead? I don't think Eriri's going to finish anytime soon," she asked.
"Of course," Mitsuha replied warmly. She glanced over at the still-bickering pair and smiled softly. "It's so lively this morning."
"Yeah," Naoka sighed. "Thanks to those two, I've now got a whole arsenal of completely useless and inappropriate knowledge."
"But Eriri wasn't wrong—Utaha usually isn't awake at this hour either. Honestly, the two of them compete every day to see who can sleep in longer, but today they're both up early. Miraculous."
"I see…"
Mitsuha narrowed her eyes thoughtfully as she watched the two continue their ridiculous exchange.
Her original plan had been to eat breakfast, go pick up her dad from the hotel, and spend the day taking care of his hangover while keeping her little sister company.
But now… it seemed like Mikiko-san might really need her help today.
Maybe she should ask Yotsuba to go get their dad.
She was in junior high now, after all.
When Mitsuha was her age, she was already the boss of Tokyo's toughest delinquent gang.
It was time for Yotsuba to step up.
Then again… was it really okay to leave her dad in Yotsuba's hands?
Mitsuha frowned, caught in hesitation.
Maybe Dad could just stay in the hotel one more day.
She'd take Yotsuba out with them—save herself from another complaint about being a "bad big sister."
Having made up her mind, a smile returned to her face.
While Kyousuke was out handling company work, she would stay behind to look after his family.
Perfect plan.