To be honest, given that both Yotsuya Miko and Yurikawa Hana were still high schoolers, Shirakawa didn't have particularly high expectations for dinner.
After changing into indoor slippers, he followed behind Miko and entered the living room.
Now that the two girls had moved in, the apartment clearly had a more lived-in feel. A study table large enough for two had been set up near the floor-to-ceiling windows. Scattered across it were textbooks from Sobu High—no need to even check the names scribbled on them; the neat handwriting full of notes clearly belonged to Miko.
As for Yurikawa Hana...
Let's just say her airheaded nature was difficult to hide.
With no need to worry about spirits constantly looming around, Miko's mental state had visibly improved. Her days no longer carried the gloom from being able to see the dead—she was slowly returning to a normal teenage life.
"Evening, Shirakawa..."
A voice called out—slightly muffled. Yurikawa Hana had just gotten up from the sofa, her cheeks puffed out with food as she munched on fried chicken. Her words came out half-garbled.
"This place's fried chicken is sooo good—I just couldn't resist."
Compared to the reserved Miko, this high-energy girl never seemed to let anything get her down. Her source of happiness? Enjoying good food, of course.
"No worries," Shirakawa replied, smiling faintly.
When it came to airheads, his tolerance was remarkably high. More importantly, Hana didn't treat him like an outsider at all.
Chiba Prefecture in June was already getting a bit hot, and the cheery girl was wearing a snug T-shirt featuring the popular Squirtle. Her physique, however, far exceeded what you'd expect from a high schooler—her generous curves stretched the Squirtle graphic across her chest to its limit.
Meanwhile, Miko had already brought out the dinner she had cooked earlier. The dishes had been placed carefully on the coffee table in front of the sofa—not some supermarket-bought bentos heated up for show, but homemade food, prepared with care.
The presentation wasn't much to look at, but the fragrance was unexpectedly appetizing.
There was simmered pork and daikon in miso, crispy fried tofu, and steamed egg with shrimp.
Shiraikawa's expression shifted in mild surprise. "It smells amazing—I didn't think you were this good at cooking, Miko."
"I just learned it in home ec class," she replied modestly.
She had been worried that such simple dishes wouldn't be enough to serve to a guest, but now that she saw his sincere reaction, a faint smile bloomed at the corners of her lips. That small gesture revealed just how delighted she was.
She even recalled how Hana had suggested buying a few other snacks "for the guest," but Miko had a strong suspicion those were actually just things Hana herself wanted to eat.
Still, Miko didn't mind.
"Thank you so much for coming tonight, Shirakawa. I hope it's not too lacking," she said sincerely.
As for any strange or unexpected developments?
Well, none occurred. Dinner went smoothly, with Hana's bright energy keeping the mood light. The three quickly grew more comfortable with each other.
The biggest change Shirakawa noticed was in Miko's personality—she was no longer so tightly wound. Though she still occasionally caught glimpses of spirits, she could now sleep soundly through the night.
After dinner, Shiraikawa left their apartment and walked toward the elevator to head home.
But just as he rounded a corner in the hallway—
His highly attuned Exorcist's Spirit Vision suddenly picked up something unusual.
Cowering in a shadowy corner was an old-man spirit—its aura weak and unstable, clearly a low-level specter he could squash without breaking a sweat.
"…A spirit? Here?"
He blinked in mild disbelief. How did something like this manage to follow them here?
Frowning, he focused his vision more clearly.
And then—he recognized it.
The tattered figure trembling in the hallway… it had been haunting Yurikawa Hana.
There was a stronger spirit behind it—a malicious one—who had deliberately cast this frail old ghost onto Hana, hoping to use her life force to strip away the weak spirit's defenses before devouring it whole.
The story had begun to move forward.
With a casual wave, he obliterated the wandering spirit.
It hadn't latched onto him—likely bounced away by the warding array he'd set up at Miko's place.
"Time to find something for Mary and Hanako to do."
Instead of heading straight home, he took the elevator to the 11th floor. Pulling out a key, he opened the door to the room temporarily housing Mary and Hanako.
As always, Hanako-chan peeked her head out slowly from the bathroom, her occupational habit.
The doll on the sofa began to grow in size before his eyes, its bare feet pattering across the floor as it cheerfully approached Shirakawa.
Mary felt an unshakable attachment to the one who had taken her in.
And as for Hanako—her attitude had undergone a complete change. As an urban legend turned vengeful spirit, sunlight wasn't much of a threat to her... but she no longer even felt like going out.
Yet now, the sensation of sunlight warming her skin felt—pleasant.
"Hanako-chan, how are you feeling right now?"
Sensing her spiritual state, Shirakawa noticed that Hanako was no longer a malevolent spirit but a pure spirit form, and this comforted him deeply.
A purified spirit like her wouldn't radiate hostility toward others—making her a perfect candidate as a guardian of the apartment.
"Thank you, Shirakawa-sama!"
She was well aware that she was already dead. And yet, being able to live like a normal person—Hanako felt a deep, genuine sense of fulfillment. Her radiant smile came from the heart.
As for why Shirakawa had come here tonight...
Even she began to feel anticipation building.
A warmth, filling her body and soul—so complete it bordered on addiction.
Mid-conversation, Hanako-chan dropped to her knees before Shirakawa. From magazines, she'd learned certain "techniques"—and this time, she took the initiative, grabbing hold of the Ex Curry Stick.
She couldn't help but feel a bit envious of Mary's... system.
That small, petite frame—a cute loli girl that could serve as a spiritual filtration vessel during purification—essentially treated like a Fiji Cup.
"Wait, hold on—"
Shirakawa hadn't expected her, a high school JK spirit, to be this diligent in studying. He shook his head in helpless amusement.
"I'm here tonight for something serious, you know?"
"..."
"Lord Shirakawa, my spiritual form is incredibly pure. If front-facing purification doesn't work... I don't mind trying it from the back... it's not like I'd say no."
"That's it! I can't take this anymore!"