By dawn’s red breath over the lava fields, it was my third day here; survive today, and the gate to the third layer would open like a cooled ember.

A long sigh drifted like steam; forced into being the Emperor of Flames’ maid, I’d held the line, and finishing today felt like cutting a tight knot.

“Breakfast first,” I murmured, letting the thought settle like gentle rain on hot stone.

I slipped from bed, shoes snug like shells, the maid outfit rustling like silk leaves, and tugged Yan Ya Princess’s quilt smooth like a warm cloud. Her sleeping face was peach-soft; my heart wouldn’t bear waking her.

I pinched her soft cheek like a ripe mochi and smiled; after washing, cool water like mountain spring, I headed for the kitchen with a steadied breath.

Kitchen.

…

I stepped in and went silent, the air thick as smoke, because—

“Come, Yumigawa! Make a dish of me! With your hands!”

The Emperor of Flames lay almost bare on the ingredient table, clothes tossed aside like shed skin, writhing like a worm on a hot plate and throwing me greasy looks.

“Ah—being stared at like a bug by Yumigawa! Ugh… this inexplicable shame… what is this… I’m going—”

“I’ll kill you, pervert.”

In a flash like split starlight, I shaped the Shattered Light Sword; its tip kissed his throat, and because it cuts like frost, a thin red thread opened.

“Ahaha! Sorry, Yumigawa. Seems I disturbed you… terribly sorry! I’ll vanish at once!”

He laughed dry as sand, slid off the table, clothes snapping on like wings, and bolted from the kitchen without a backward glance.

“…Sigh. Just endure a little longer; I’ll leave the second layer soon,” I breathed, the thought cool as shade.

I let the Shattered Light Sword fold into a bracelet, silver as a crescent, and exhaled; I’d almost cut him down, but reason held like a tether.

“Enough. Don’t overthink,” I told myself, turning the tap; cold water slapped my face like a clear lake, and the mind settled like dust.

I gathered ingredients and tools, blades and bowls shining like morning dew, and set about breakfast.

…

About an hour slipped by like sand.

I carried breakfast out, steam curling like mist; the Emperor of Flames and Yan Ya Princess were already waiting at the hall table, eyes bright as coals.

I set the dishes, sat, and clapped my hands. “Let’s eat!!!”

Thus began my last breakfast in the Land of Lava, each bite sweeter as the night’s exit glimmered like a distant star.

Soon, under the brother-sister frenzy like two hungry wolves, their plates were wiped clean; then both stared at my food, eyes drooling like rain.

I’d guessed this, so I lifted two extra portions from the breakfast basket, wicker creaking like reeds, and handed them over. “Yan Ya Princess, fine. Emperor of Flames, you really dare eat this much? Idle all day, only doing perverted nonsense.”

“Yumigawa’s cooking—I love it!” His grin shone like brass; “embarrassment” didn’t seem to exist in his world.

“Hehe, Yumigawa Sumeragi, your cooking’s amazing! Thinking I won’t taste it tomorrow is heartbreak,” Yan Ya Princess said, voice soft as cotton candy.

…

Hearing her, I wanted to stay a few days or steal her away like a sparrow; but reality stood cold as stone.

“Uuuu! Yumigawa, don’t leave! I can’t bear it!” wailed the Emperor of Flames, tears hot as sparks.

…

Right. When today ends, I leave the second layer like a clean break.

Twenty more minutes rattled by like chopsticks; the noisy breakfast finally stilled. I washed every bowl and chopstick, water humming like a stream, then wandered Fire Dragon Hall with Yan Ya Princess, steps light as feathers.

There wasn’t much laundry; I’d rinsed it earlier, soap bubbles popping like tiny moons. So I was free, idle as a drifting leaf.

Oh—two days ago I made her lollipops, and they’re almost gone; with nothing pressing, I’d better craft more lollipops and sweets, a small gift before I go, like wrapping a ribbon on a sunset.

Once I said it, she beamed and hugged me, her cute face nuzzling like a kitten; warm and healing, like tea in winter.

As for the Emperor of Flames, he leapt at me with the same glee; I flicked out several threads of Sword Aura—whoosh, whoosh—and blasted him away like leaves in a squall. Nothing unusual.

…

By afternoon, her joy was contagious like sunshine, and I ended up turning every dessert ingredient into sweets and lollipops, the kitchen a sugar storm.

“Whoa! Yumigawa Sumeragi, you’re amazing! This will last me days!” Yan Ya Princess’s eyes flashed like stars, staring at the mountain of sweets covering the big table, drool almost dripping like a waterfall.

“Gulp.” The Emperor of Flames had returned sometime, swallowing hard, gaze blank as glass at the candy hill.

“Mm. As long as you like them, Yan Ya.” I rubbed her small head, soft as fur, ignoring him like a passing shadow.

“Mm-mm! I like you best, Yumigawa!” She dove into my arms, smile bright as silk lanterns, her little head rubbing, tickling my stomach like feather grass.

“Mm-mm-mm…” Ignored, the Emperor of Flames glared at us like a wronged wife, envy and jealousy shimmering like green smoke. Hey, wrong target; I had no words left.

…

Time flew like ash on the wind, and the day folded shut. Midnight. In front of Fire Dragon Hall’s great doors, red as a dragon’s jaw.

“Uuuu, Yumigawa, can you not go? I can’t bear it!” The Emperor of Flames cried as he opened the channel to the third layer, a path unfurling like a river of light.

“Yumigawa Sumeragi! Don’t mind that useless brother,” Yan Ya Princess said, her heart steady as jade; like Mikaret, she supported me finishing the Nine Cold Labyrinth and grasping what I want.

For their care, my thanks swelled like a full moon; I could hardly repay it.

After a breath of quiet, I smiled and shook my head at the Emperor of Flames. “Sorry. My time’s tight, and I have to clear the Nine Cold Labyrinth soon.”

“I see… Uuuu… Though I hate parting, I won’t force you to stay. Do your best!” With the channel fully open, he showed, for once, a normal smile, plain as morning.

“Got it. I’ll give it my all. Yan Ya Princess, thank you for keeping me company these days. And Emperor of Flames—go find a doctor for your brain.”

“Eh—eh?!”

I didn’t wait for his wounded look, thin as paper; I turned and stepped into the channel to the third layer, light swallowing me like a tide.

“Yumigawa Sumeragi, come play with me again if you get the chance!”

Her voice trailed like a bell, and my answer was—

“No problem!”