"Huhaa~!"
Himeko stretched her arms wide, giving her elegant figure a satisfying pull.
Her silk nightgown clung lightly to her body, accentuating every curve, while her smooth, fair skin glowed under the morning sun with an almost translucent sheen.
"Ahh… I haven't slept that well in ages."
Not too long ago, every time she so much as thought about drinking, Theresa would swoop in to nag her—always bringing up her health.
Of course, Himeko knew Theresa only worried out of love, but still—being kept away from her beloved alcohol had been downright torture!
But now? Things were completely different.
After all, she was the Herrscher of Flames now.
As if a little alcohol could harm a Herrscher's body!
So last night, surrounded by such a warm and joyous atmosphere, Himeko naturally indulged herself.
Bottle after bottle, she drank heartily, even suppressing her Herrscher powers on purpose just to get properly drunk.
By the time she staggered back to her room and collapsed into bed, she slept like a baby.
She hadn't felt that carefree in years.
Rubbing her slightly tousled crimson hair, she yawned, slid her fair feet into her slippers, and stepped out of her room.
"Good morni—huh?"
She froze mid-greeting.
In the living room, Kiana and Bronya were slumped over the dining table, looking utterly drained.
Their faces were pale, their heads resting on their arms, as if they hadn't slept a wink.
To an outsider, it would've looked like they'd been through some sort of all-night war.
"Good morning, Aunt Himeko…"
Kiana rubbed her half-closed eyes, weakly waved a hand, and then promptly faceplanted back onto the table like a corpse.
Last night, the "Three Power Houses"—or rather, the three Herrschers—had been fighting well past midnight.
None of them could completely overpower the others, and the battle settled into an odd three-way deadlock.
Whenever one side gained the upper hand, the other two would team up against them, dragging the fight back into balance until everyone was exhausted.
"Good morning, Himeko-sensei."
Bronya lifted her little head, her childish face hazy with fatigue.
Her long lashes trembled as her eyelids drooped, as though she could doze off right then and there.
Thanks only to her long history of "Daily Training" (Staying up late gaming with Nagami), she'd built up a resistance to sleepless nights.
Otherwise, fighting non-stop until dawn against two Herrschers would've completely broken her.
After all, Kiana and Mei's alternate personalities had taken some of the strain, but Bronya had no such backup.
"You two… what on earth happened? Did your mother-daughter heart-to-hearts run too late?"
"Good mor—haaahh~…"
From the kitchen, Mei stepped out carrying breakfast, ready to greet Himeko—only to cut herself off mid-sentence with a yawn.
A silky strand of her lavender hair slipped down to her cheek, partly veiling her tired face.
Of course, after discovering the "unfaithful little cat," a fight was inevitable.
But once fists had flown and tempers cooled, the three had quickly gone back to being close friends.
The blame was shoved entirely onto Sirin and Herrscher Mei, while Bronya claimed "self-defense" and… "mediating," of all things.
So, after the dust settled, the air between them returned to a strange but almost comical normalcy.
And naturally, as the gentle, responsible, housewife-type "Herrscher of Rice," Mei still took it upon herself to cook for everyone.
On the battlefield or in the kitchen—this was the true power of the Herrscher of Rice.
"Mei, even you look half-asleep?"
If it were just Kiana and Bronya looking this wrecked in broad daylight, Himeko wouldn't have been too surprised.
With Cecilia and Bronya's own mother back, it wasn't strange for the girls to stay up late chatting.
But Mei?
Raiden Ryoma hadn't been with her last night, and Mei had always kept to a disciplined sleep schedule.
Seeing her worn out too—that was suspicious.
What on earth happened to these three?
"Wait… don't tell me something happened to Nagami last night? Did you all end up helping him fight?"
Crossing her arms, Himeko sat down casually on the sofa, her long legs crossing elegantly as she voiced the only explanation that made sense to her.
At once, Kiana and Bronya froze mid-slump, while Mei's hands paused in the middle of setting the dishes down.
A weird tension spread through the room.
Sure, there had been an intense battle last night—and yes, in a way, it was Nagami's fault.
But there was no way they could say that out loud!
For a moment, the three Herrschers' eyes flicked toward each other, only to dart away just as quickly.
Kiana: "H-hah, as if! No way!"
Bronya: "Himeko sensei's guess is incorrect."
Mei: "Haha, you really do love to joke, sensei."
Almost in unison, the three of them hurriedly denied it.
Himeko narrowed her eyes at the suspiciously calm Bronya and Mei—then shifted her gaze to Kiana.
The tuna's shifty eyes and guilty expression were practically screaming caught red-handed.
Himeko arched a brow in helpless amusement and gave a subtle nod.
"I think I get it now."
Something unspeakable must have gone down!
"You idiot, Kiana!"
Even though her vision was still a little blurry, Bronya instantly caught on to Himeko's suspicious look—born from whatever nonsense the white-haired troublemaker had just pulled.
The petite girl swayed slightly as she stood, but her sharp tongue didn't waver.
"Shorty, you called me an idiot again!"
Like a little white cat with its fur bristling, Kiana leapt up from her seat, glaring fiercely at Bronya.
But before she could finish her retort, an irrepressible yawn cut her off.
Completely drained, she flopped back down again, mumbling so softly only Bronya beside her could hear:
"Forget it… I've fought enough."
And really, wasn't it true?
In actual history, it was Nagami who had played the Herrscher of the Void.
Sirin barely had any real combat experience as a Herrscher at all!
So why did she believe all of Sirin's boasting in the first place?
If Sirin hadn't already dozed off from last night's exhaustion, she surely would've puffed herself up again, spouting lines like, "I was just careless!" Or maybe going full chuuni, declaring herself a god of Honkai.
Honestly, she was just like Herrscher Mei—terminal-stage chuunibyou with no cure in sight.
Why were Herrschers born from Honkai's will always like this!?
Shaking off the thought with a quiet grumble, Kiana pushed herself upright, clenched her fists, and tried to perk up.
"I'll go call Mom and Sis."
"Bronya will also call mother."
The small girl hopped lightly down from her chair, her delicate legs wrapped in white stockings slipping into a pair of Homu slippers.
"Then… I'll call Nagami," Himeko offered.
Her gaze keen and amused lingered on Mei as the two girls left.
That look alone was enough to make Mei's smile falter with a hint of guilt.
She untied her apron and set it aside before heading upstairs to the dorm's second floor.
As she climbed the steps, a pink-haired figure came into view.
"Good morning, Yuzuriha-san~"
Mei's amethyst eyes softened when they met the girl's wine-red gaze.
They were eyes like stained glass—clear, fragile, and heartbreakingly pure.
The polite smile on Mei's face melted into something far more gentle.
They already knew her story, thanks to the Kiana from the parallel world.
A clone, born incomplete, lacking full emotions—pitiful, yet obedient.
Everyone had felt sympathy for her after learning the truth.
Somewhat surprisingly, the one who doted on her most was actually Kiana.
The reason wasn't hard to guess.
Both of them were clones, after all.
"Good morning."
The airy voice drifted out as Yuzuriha gave a small, dazed nod.
Clutching her toiletries, she wandered downstairs in a half-dreamy state.
"She really is a sweet child," Mei murmured, watching the girl's figure disappear around the corner.
A gentle smile tugged at her lips.
Compared to Yuzuriha, though, the so-called spirit—Miss Tokisaki Kurumi—was far more of a headache.
Not only was she fair-skinned, long-legged, and perfectly curved, but her every movement radiated allure and temptation.
Her beauty carried the same seductive air as Rita's, yet with an added touch of youthful girlish charm.
Without a doubt… a formidable rival.
Moving soundlessly, Mei stopped before a door with Nagami's nameplate. She raised her hand and knocked softly.
"Nagami, it's time for breakfast."
No response.
"Nagami? Still asleep?"
Still nothing.
Her hand hovered in midair, and Mei's brows slowly knitted together. Something didn't feel right.
She let out a faint pulse of electromagnetic energy. The scan came back—Nagami's room was empty?
What?
Could something have happened to him?
A flash of worry tightened her chest.
She gripped the doorknob, arcs of electricity dancing faintly across her pale fingers as she snapped the lock open.
She flung the door wide and rushed inside—
Only to find Nagami sprawled in bed, clutching his blanket.
His long black hair hung messily, falling across his dark, half-lidded eyes.
He looked dazed, as if still caught between dreams.
Relief washed over Mei, but her brows quickly furrowed again.
A strange doubt flickered in her gaze.
"…What is that smell?"
Weird. Really weird.
She sniffed lightly, her expression shifting.
It smelled like… fish?
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