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They grabbed lunch at a small restaurant just down the street from the apartment.
In the bright sunlight of central Tokyo, Bokue Keikain stepped out into the street, glancing toward the blue-haired girl beside him, whose expression had already returned to its usual neutral state.
"Feeling full now?"
[Affirmative Response.]
As his voice reached her ears, Astarte turned her head slightly and tilted her chin up to look at him.
"Following a multi-nutrient intake, this unit's biological functions have been fully replenished."
Huh?
For just a moment, Bokue thought he saw a faint blush rise across her snow-white cheeks.
But before he could confirm, Astarte turned her head away again, falling back into silence.
After all, she was an artificial lifeform. Her entire existence had been treated as a biological weapon. She had no sense of self. No idea what it meant to be a person. No social instincts. No understanding of human nuance.
To her, language was just a utility—something used to send and receive orders. To answer questions. Nothing more.
Changing that... wasn't something that would happen overnight.
"One thing at a time. When we get home, I'll help you change, then send you back to Itogami Island."
[Acknowledged.]
No commentary this time. Just a flat response, as if executing a basic subroutine.
Their lunch spot wasn't far from the apartment, so within a few minutes they'd returned to the building's entrance.
Like Asagi's place, Bokue's building was a high-security complex. Entry required an ID card. No exceptions.
So when Bokue tapped his card and stepped into the lobby with Astarte at his side, the last thing he expected to hear was—
KLANG.
The front door behind them rattled—someone was pulling on it, hard.
Bokue paused, glancing over his shoulder with mild curiosity.
At first, he didn't think much of it. Could've just been some flyer-handing temp trying their luck. In Japan—or anywhere, really—there were always those ambitious types who'd walk up to any building, even gated ones, hoping to sneak in and stick a brochure in your mailbox.
But breaking in? That was another level.
High-end apartments like this one were built like bunkers. Their reinforced doors could withstand a car crash. No amount of tugging should do a thing.
And yet...
Whoever was out there wasn't giving up. Bokue could hear them straining, pulling harder and harder. The reinforced glass door—rated to stop a speeding sedan—was starting to creak ominously.
...This isn't normal.
He turned around—just in time to see the lock shatter.
BANG!
It was like someone had headbutted a riot shield. The door's locking mechanism ripped free under brute force, the handle torn off and flung across the pavement. The heavy tempered glass swung open with a hiss of displaced air.
And in the next heartbeat—a flash of turquoise.
A girl's silhouette, wrapped in a soft floral scent, darted through the doorway like a whisper on the wind—
—and hugged him. Tightly.
"Long time no see, Bokue."
Huh?
He looked down.
The girl wrapped around his waist slowly tilted her head up. Only now could Bokue see her face clearly.
A school uniform. Short aquamarine hair, neatly cut just above the shoulders. A white ribbon tied across her bangs. A delicate braid on her left cheek as a subtle accent.
Her face was calm. Her voice, almost a whisper.
The whole vibe screamed emotionless heroine. Heck, she practically looked like Origami Tobiichi from Date A Live.
"You're..."
Bokue was honestly stunned.
Sure, girls hugging him out of nowhere wasn't a new phenomenon—but this wasn't the usual kind of encounter.
At least, not to the point where he couldn't even remember the girl's name.
Wait... Something about her felt familiar.
And then—click.
A long-forgotten memory from his days in the Hero Village resurfaced like a dusty photo album.
....
"Bokue, spar with me after lunch."
"Huh? Why me? You've got Takashi and Kurumi for that."
"They can't beat you."
"Ugh. Forget it. I'd rather nap."
"I'll let you touch my butt in return. (blushes faintly)"
"...Excuse me?"
....
A blank-faced pervert with the delivery of an accountant.
Yeah—this girl was Yuki Nonaka. The Origami clone herself.
The name finally clicked into place, and Bokue opened his mouth to speak—
—but before he could say anything, Astarte detected the sudden intrusion and launched her Rhododactylos protocol.
A massive, gleaming white familiar appeared behind her, its arm raised high and poised to strike.
[Warning: You have breached safety parameters. Immediate withdrawal is advised. Failure to comply will result in neutralization.]
"Whoa, wait, hold it!"
Bokue quickly slapped a hand onto Astarte's head, gently ruffling her hair like you would calm an angry kitten.
"She's not an enemy. Just an... old friend from when I was a kid."
[Command acknowledged.]
There was a beat—a flicker of hesitation in Astarte's otherwise robotic expression—before she nodded and retracted the familiar.
Bokue turned his attention back to the girl still clinging to him.
"...Yuki?"
"Mmhm..."
She nodded softly, sensing his uncertainty.
"It's me. I'm in Tokyo because of a mission from the village. Takashi and Kurumi came too, but they're stationed in other cities around the Kanto region. I'm the only one covering Tokyo. I didn't expect to run into you like this, though. And... who's she?"
Yuki's eyes slid toward Astarte, clearly puzzled.
Before Bokue could answer, Astarte stepped between them—gently, but firmly—blocking Yuki's view. Her expression remained blank as ever as she delivered her explanation:
[Clarifying response: This unit is the exclusive property of Master Bokue Keikain. Customized and configured according to Master's personal preferences. Primary function: satisfaction of Master's X-rated desires.]
Bokue: "...WHAT?!"
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