Inside the academy dormitory!
Familiar with the way back, Makoto stopped in front of his room. This time, instead of swiping his student ID to enter, he knocked on the door first.
"Come in—ah, it's Makoto, isn't it?"
Before Makoto could even open the door himself, it swung open on its own.
What entered his sight was a bright crimson silhouette, petite yet striking.
"Yeah, sorry. I took a little longer than expected, Stella."
Following Stella inside, Makoto glanced around. The room looked completely different from before.
When he had first moved in, the place was practically empty.
After all, he hadn't brought much luggage.
The few necessities he owned were bought at the campus supermarket using the student ID Nene had given him—things like a toothbrush and a razor.
But now, it was an entirely different scene.
The wardrobe aside, the desk was already filled with all sorts of bottles and jars.
Most likely cosmetics.
In short, the room had gained a clear sense of life.
"Well, I know there's a lot to talk about, but can I take a shower first? My body's filthy—it wouldn't be right to sit down like this and start talking to you."
Standing in front of the bathroom, Makoto pointed at himself with a wry smile.
Dirty!
There was no other word for it. His hair was a complete mess, his clothes splattered with mud, as if he had been rolling around in it.
"Although I'd really like to know right away… you're right. Go shower first."
Suppressing her curiosity, Stella sighed softly and sat back down in her chair.
"Mm~."
Makoto opened the bathroom door and looked inside.
There had been changes here too.
Beside his toothbrush cup, there was now a pink one with a matching brush.
At the towel rack, another set had been added, decorated with cute little prints.
For a moment, Makoto didn't quite know what to feel.
Because this kind of setup—everything in pairs, placed side by side—really gave off the impression of a couple living together.
"Wait—"
As Makoto scanned around, his gaze froze on one particular spot.
It was a newly installed hook, from which hung a lacy black bra, the kind designed to be especially provocative.
That in itself wasn't the important part—the key was that the size was shocking.
Even just by eye, it was clear one wouldn't be able to hold it in a fully spread palm.
Whoever wore it clearly had enough confidence in herself—otherwise it would only invite ridicule.
"Ah—!"
From outside came Stella's sharp scream.
Realizing what had happened, Makoto quickly averted his gaze and fixed his eyes on the mirror.
Swish—
The bathroom door was yanked open. A crimson blur darted in, leaping high.
Even with his back turned, Makoto could hear the sound of something being hastily snatched down.
"Y-you didn't see anything, right?"
In the mirror, Stella's face was reflected—completely red. Her voice trembled.
"See what? And why's your face so red?"
Timing it right, Makoto turned back toward the girl, who had practically curled herself into a ball, and asked lightly.
"Forget it—if you didn't see, then it's fine… Just… finish your shower."
Still bent over, Stella bolted out of the bathroom and slammed the door shut.
"Honestly! That's why I said—living together with a girl really is troublesome."
…
"Ugh, I wonder if he saw it or not…"
Wearing a pink nightdress that reached her knees, Stella rubbed her hands together, her ivory-white legs nervously brushing against one another.
Clearly, her mood was restless.
Her eyes kept drifting toward the wardrobe.
"Sorry for taking so long—the dirt was hard to scrub off."
Makoto emerged in a white bathrobe, towel in hand as he dried his damp hair.
His sharp, chiseled features, short brown curls falling loosely, and water droplets trailing from his throat down his half-open chest—
Before she realized it, Stella had been staring blankly.
"Ahem! Y-you should button up properly."
Snapping out of it, Stella quickly turned her gaze away, her face bright red.
"Ah, sorry."
Makoto fumbled with the buttons, leaving his hair half-wet.
A faint sense of regret touched Stella's heart.
It had been her reminder, but still—what a shame.
"It's fine. Anyway, can you tell me now? Where did you go? Why are you so muddy? It's not like our fight earlier left you this battered."
Curiosity won over embarrassment, Stella's eyes bright with questions.
"Ah, that. I just got drilled mercilessly by an expired loli—she beat me to a pulp."
Makoto laughed bitterly, dropping onto his chair.
"Was it Yasha-hime?"
Almost instantly, Stella arrived at the answer.
"If it was her, then losing is normal. But… is the gap really that huge? You handled me so easily."
She didn't ask why Makoto was fighting her, only the reason for the result.
"Yeah, it's like the difference between an adult and a child. And honestly, Stella, the difference is between me and you."
He hadn't expected Nene's "training method" to be so brutal.
No explanations, no teaching.
Just relentless attacks, beating him over and over.
Forcing him to understand through battle, to learn how to wield his magic by sheer experience.
"What do you mean?"
Sometimes, admitting one's shortcomings was a form of discipline.
With nothing to hide, Makoto explained how he'd tricked Stella during their fight, every little detail.
"So, if you had known my abilities better, I never would've beaten you."
"R-really?"
Instead of being angry, Stella only seemed incredulous.
She simply couldn't connect the composed Makoto from their duel with the struggling one he described.
"No doubt about it. That's why I need this kind of training."
He got up, poured instant coffee for both of them.
"What do you think? A little disappointing? A bit sly, maybe?"
"N-no, not at all…"
Stella shook her head quickly, clearly dissatisfied with Makoto's self-deprecation.
"Why call it sly? That's proof of your combat wisdom! Ah— Geez, what did you make me say!"
Realizing her words, her face went even redder.
"Sorry, sorry."
Makoto waved his hands, but couldn't stop the faint smile tugging at his lips.
"As long as you don't mind, Stella."
What a proud girl she was—though her pride only added to her unique charm.
But Makoto had other things on his mind.
Shiroyasha, you should appear now.
In his subconscious, Makoto called out.
I'm here, kid.
This time, the response came quickly.
Just the simplest touch will do. You can decide how to go about it.
"Why so quiet? I don't mind, you know."
While Makoto had been speaking internally for a few seconds, Stella grew flustered, assuming she had said something wrong.
Waving her hands, blushing, she continued:
"And besides… you know how going from 80 to 90 on a test is so hard? But going from 0 to 50 is the easiest part. That's how it was for me—when I first awakened my powers, training every day, my progress was fast. So don't lose hope. In just a few days, you'll surely break through my defenses. And if you're not satisfied with Yasha-hime's training, I can spar with you every day too—"
Panicked, Stella waved her hands around, like a child hastily explaining to an adult after messing up.
"I know, I know!"
Makoto chuckled and reached out to pat her head.
"I'm not upset, Stella. I know you're just worried about me. I understand what you're saying. It's just—If my magic control improves, and I can break through your defenses, next time you might lose badly, you know?"
Stella froze.
That one line made her whole body stiffen.
In her eyes, his face suddenly looked infuriating again.
Right—if this man kept getting stronger, wasn't she bound to lose next time?
"Wh-who says I'll lose…"
Her neck stiff, her pale skin turning pink, Stella stubbornly denied it.
But deep down, she knew the truth.
Concept-interference abilities were stronger than natural-interference abilities. That was established fact.
For example, back when the invincible Yasha-hime wielded her gravity manipulation, she was utterly defeated by Kurono, who had only awakened her causality interference ability a year prior.
It was a one-sided battle that drove Nene into a lifelong pursuit of Kurono.
Would it be the same for her?
Would she also end up chasing this man forever?
Though… maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
"Stella? Stella?"
Makoto's repeated calls snapped her out of her daze.
"What?!"
She jolted back to reality.
But in those few seconds, she had apparently missed something—like the hand now extended toward her.
What was he trying to do?
"Sorry if this is sudden, but… Stella, would you mind shaking my hand? There's something I need to confirm."
"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"
It was utterly meaningless—yet just now, her heart had skipped a beat for no reason.
Still, out of trust in Harumura Makoto, and since holding hands was no big deal anyway, Stella extended her soft, boneless little hand and gently clasped his.
That's enough, right, Shiroyasha? Is this situation acceptable?
Mm-hmm. Just maintain it like this for twenty seconds, and it'll do.
"Makoto? Do we really have to keep holding on?"
Their palms were pressed firmly together, tiny beads of sweat mingling as they fused in the heat.
This strange, never-before-felt sensation once again left Stella restless at heart.
"Ah... We'll need to hold on a little longer. How about we use the time to discuss our bathing schedule and cleaning duties?"
Makoto tugged awkwardly at the corner of his mouth.
Truth be told, he was just as uncomfortable.
If they were hugging or holding each other close, that would've been fine. But this—holding hands, and not even interlaced fingers—was unbearably awkward. Seriously.
"Haah, honestly… why are we even talking about this now? Fine, fine."
That same wry smile again. Stella had no way to deal with it and could only yield.
"I'd already thought it through before you came back. We'll take turns doing the cleaning. As for bathing, I was going to give you the six-to-eight slot, but since you'll probably have some intense training coming up, I'll switch it to myself from six to eight instead. And if we're both free in the evenings, we can cook dinner together."
Although she'd been full of complaints at the start, now Stella was the one rambling on and on.
"Hey, Stella—do you really believe your ability belongs to the natural-element interference type?"