Mmm… slept like a cat curled in sun.

By the time I woke, dusk had pooled outside; sunset bled crimson through the window, painting the room like a wash of wine.

Mm, Hill is still so cute, like a small fox tucked into snow.

I started to sit up, then felt something soft in my arms, warm as a cloud; I looked down—Hill was asleep in my embrace.

Servant, you’re awake.

Mm, I’m up.

I set Hill on the bed, tuck the blanket like a quiet tide, and stretch like a willow unbending.

Then since you’re awake, go make dinner; it’s past six. Xinuo tapped my head with a novel, light as a paper fan, and smiled.

Ah… uh, okay.

I glanced at Xinuo and froze; under the sunset, she looked unreal, like a goddess stepping out of dawn mist.

I’ll shower first, then cook.

I hurried off the bed, slipped on my shoes, grabbed clean clothes, and bolted for the bath like a startled deer.

Hmm? The Servant just blushed—how odd. Xinuo tilted her head like a sparrow watching rain.

Gazing at Yumigawa Sumeragi’s back, she looked puzzled, her eyes bright as stars.

Bathroom.

Phew—better wash fast and then cook, like finishing a storm before the night sets in.

I shed my school uniform and slid into the bath; a magic device hummed below like a hidden spring, and hot water waited without delay.

School starts tomorrow—academy life, huh? Who knows what shape the wind will take.

Soaking in warm water like a quiet lagoon, I leaned back and muttered to myself.

I’ve never lived academy life; what I know comes from novels, words like lanterns that don’t match the real wind and dust.

In novels, men cross-dress to slip into girls’ schools; unlike them, I feel no ripple, my heart flat as a mirror lake.

Maybe it’s because I grew up in the Mizumi Clan, a lone pine among blossoms; in my generation, I was the only boy.

In that garden, a girls’ academy feels natural, like walking through familiar plum shade.

Besides, the girls here—looks and bearing—can’t match the moonlit grace back home, like candles beside a full moon.

Thinking so, I took the shampoo, poured a measure like honey, and scrubbed until foam rose like clouds.

I finished my hair and began to wash, steam lifting like morning mist off a river.

Half an hour later.

I slipped on fresh clothes and walked out, towel brushing my hair like wind combing reeds.

Wow! A beauty stepping from the bath!

Yumigawa, you’re so pretty… Their eyes locked on me, bright as twin comets.

Right, the Servant’s out-of-bath look is top-tier. Xinuo’s gaze skimmed me like rain across glass, then she nodded.

Mm-hmm, of course! Boss’s post-bath figure makes men spout nosebleeds! Hill puffed her flat chest like a bold sparrow, proud as dawn.

Really, Yumigawa? You actually made men nosebleed? Eastern Moon Aixue’s phoenix eyes widened, curiosity flaring like a lantern.

Hill, don’t make stuff up! I walked over and flicked her forehead, a tap light as testing a melon. When have I made any guy nosebleed? No man’s even seen me right after a bath!

That sounded weird, like a knot pulled the wrong way, and I winced inside.

Oh, I see.

So Yumigawa is still a pure maiden. Eastern Moon Aixue and Faya nodded, enlightenment blooming like a paper flower in water.

Hey, hey! Who’s a maiden? I’m a boy! My voice jumped like a startled bird.

Alright, slip of the tongue; don’t be mad. Eastern Moon Aixue patted my shoulder, soft as spring rain, and grinned.

Seriously. I stowed the towel, the motion neat as folding a fan, and looked at Eastern Moon Aixue and Faya. By the way, Eastern Moon Aixue, Faya, what brings you here?

Not much, just dropping by, like two breezes through an open window. She glanced around, eyes catching on order like chess pieces set just so. Wow, you’re impressive—your luggage is already neat; when Faya and I moved in, it took two days.

Yeah, that was tough, Faya agreed, her voice mild as tea steam.

I see. Do you know where the kitchen is? I need to make dinner, before the sky goes ink-black.

You’re making dinner, Yumigawa?! Eastern Moon Aixue looked at me, bright as a child at festival stalls.

Uh, yeah. I nodded, a small ripple on still water.

Can we mooch dinner tonight? Faya’s emerald eyes shone like polished jade, hope warm as hearth light.

Of course!

So that’s all, I thought; a breeze, not a storm, and I let out a breath like a soft flute note.

Yay! Then let’s hurry to the kitchen. Few people use it, but ingredients and tools are all there, stacked like a market at dawn!

Exactly. They grabbed me and swept me out, their hands tugging like playful currents.

H-hey!

…

That’s how Eastern Moon Aixue and Faya hauled me to the kitchen, and I cooked under their expectant stares, hot oil whispering like cicadas.

Forty-some minutes later, back in the room.

Let’s eat!!!

I set the dishes on the table, aromas rising like banners, and we dove into dinner.

Servant, give me that. Xinuo pointed at the grilled fish by my bowl, her finger light as a reed.

Got it. I lifted a fish and set it in her bowl, skin crackling like charred leaves.

So good! Looks like you’ll be a fine wife someday, Yumigawa! Eastern Moon Aixue smiled, praise flowing like sweet sake.

Agreed. Faya sipped soup, calm as moonlight on a pond.

…A wife, huh. Whatever. The joke had been played by Xinuo and Hill already, a bell rung twice.

Boss’s cooking is still the best! Hill beamed, delight bright as fireworks.

Ha, thanks for the praise, Hill. My smile spread like warm bread.

Dinner rolled on, voices soft as evening crickets.

By the way, tomorrow’s the opening ceremony. Don’t forget to go, Yumigawa. Eastern Moon Aixue spoke halfway through, words landing like petals.

Opening ceremony? What’s that? Is it fun?! Hill looked up from her rice, curiosity sparking like flint.

Well, for first-timers it’s interesting, like seeing your first snowfall; for Faya and me, it’s boring. Eastern Moon Aixue thought for a beat, her tone easy as drifting clouds.

What’s in it, mainly? I asked after swallowing, the taste lingering like a small fire.

Not much—the dean’s speech and some club performances, routine as a drumbeat. Then she clasped her hands with a soft clap and smiled. Speaking of which, tomorrow’s ceremony is worth the wait.

Why?

Because the Academy Diva—Paluna Calentia—will perform! Her name rose like a golden note, bright enough to light a hall.

Oh, I see. Then I’ll look forward to it a little, like saving a sweet for later.

…