After finishing breakfast with the Yoshizawa twins, Asakura Rinto walked them to their training facility.
Their home was near Shibuya, so coming all the way out to his rundown rental was no short trip.
But still, they insisted on dropping by every morning—bringing breakfast, waking him up, even tidying up a little. It made Rinto feel kind of bad, honestly.
So as a way of repaying the favor, he made it a point to drive them back and forth, no matter how busy his part-time job got.
That quiet, mutual rhythm had naturally settled in between them.
Every time the three of them walked together, the twins beaming on either side, Rinto always ended up drawing looks—envy, awe, even the occasional glare.
But that wasn't a bad thing, really. It kept away creeps and weirdos, which meant fewer chances of stalkers or worse latching onto the girls. Rinto even made a point of acting extra affectionate in public for that exact reason.
Once the twins disappeared inside the training building, Rinto finally turned to leave.
Since it was still early, he stopped by a store and picked up a few things for dinner.
The twins came over for breakfast, but they always had to eat dinner at home with their parents—no exceptions. If they didn't, they'd be in for a stern lecture.
So, on days when his shifts didn't run too late, Rinto usually cooked for himself. It helped save money, too.
Life as a part-timer in Tokyo wasn't exactly easy.
He had to cover rent and tuition out of his own pocket.
He'd never really saved up before, and transferring into Shujin Academy, a private high school, had cost a pretty steep sponsorship fee. There was no room for financial slacking.
But even so… Rinto didn't actually hate this kind of hard-scrabble lifestyle.
He was on his own, after all. No one else to feed or take care of. A free-spirited, no-strings-attached Sanwa God (slang for someone who lives day-to-day doing manual labor and drifting).
Gachak—ka-KLAAANK!
The ancient front door screeched hideously as Rinto pushed it open.
The damn thing was warped beyond saving—every time he opened it, it practically announced it to the whole neighborhood.
Still, he'd come to think of it as a kind of natural burglar deterrent. No thief would be dumb enough to try sneaking through a door that loud.
As that thought passed through his head, he heard the unmistakable flush of a toilet.
He called out to the zombie-like woman emerging from the bathroom.
"Good afternoon, Miss Momoka. The sun's already up and roasting your butt—finally done liberating yourself in there?"
"Ughhhh~… don't call it liberation… you're gonna make me wanna crawl back in…"
The woman with the sickly pale face and dyed ash-blonde hair stumbled past him and flopped face-first onto the sofa.
This was his housemate: Kawaragi Momoka.
She was twenty years old. Technically still college-aged, but had already been out of school and in the working world for a few years.
Not that she had a real job. She got by on part-time gigs.
If you had to call her something professional, she wrote and released her own songs. An indie underground rocker, more or less.
Which, honestly, was kind of cool. She had the aura of a chic Tokyo gyaru—though technically, they were living in Kawasaki.
And to be fair, she really did have the looks. She could've easily gone the idol route and made it big.
Her features were sharp and striking, with slightly upturned eyes that gave her a cool, charismatic vibe—popular with both male and female fans alike.
Her body was great too. Right now, her legs—wrapped in dark tights—were draped over the armrest of the sofa, swinging lazily.
Hard not to glance, honestly…
…Except those were the same tights she'd been wearing since last night. She hadn't taken them off once.
They were still stained with splashes of alcohol. Probably reeked by now.
Rinto knew very well just how much of a disaster this woman's private life was beneath the pretty exterior.
That's why, at this point, he'd completely lost any romantic thrill about living with a hot girl.
If anything, it felt like he was stuck with a high-maintenance cat that needed someone to clean up after it 24/7.
Rinto unpacked the groceries and stashed them in the fridge, then pulled out some homemade yogurt he'd frozen the night before.
He had no expectations that this hungover mess of a woman would get up and eat on her own.
So he crouched beside the sofa, scooped a spoonful, and brought it to her mouth.
"Here, Momoka. Say 'ahhh.'"
"Aahhh~… mmm… it's like pudding. Soft and cold and… mmm, so good…"
She didn't even open her eyes—just let him feed her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Yogurt was supposed to help with hangovers. Ever since they'd started living together, Rinto had been making it regularly for her. It actually worked pretty well.
After a few more spoonfuls, Momoka gave a muffled, lazy whine.
"Rinto, you should be my wife… I wanna drink your miso soup every morning… the free kind…"
"Did you know," Rinto answered immediately, "there's a theory that the annual economic value a full-time housewife generates is roughly three million yen? But I'll cut you a deal—how about one-point-five mil? And I'll even throw in nightly cuddle privileges. Tempted?"
"Ughhhghhgh~!"
Momoka ground her teeth, half-serious.
"Damn smart-mouthed high school brat… you're smooth, I'll give you that. But if that's part of the package, aren't I the one getting scammed? Shouldn't you be paying me?!"
"That kind of thinking is outdated gender bias," Rinto replied smugly. "We live in a more progressive age now."
This sort of banter had become their norm.
Definitely a lot more unfiltered than how Rinto interacted with the Yoshizawa twins. He and Momoka were already well past the "getting to know you" phase.
After finishing the yogurt, Momoka finally looked like a functional human again. At the very least, she could sit upright now.
She saw him using the microwave and guessed instantly.
"The gymnast twins already came by? What time is it? Work… oh, I've still got time. I'm gonna nap for a bit—"
"Nope," Rinto cut her off. "I'm reheating your breakfast. Go take a shower and change. That outfit's disgusting."
"Mmmph…"
Momoka sniffed her shirt and immediately recoiled from her own stink.
With a groan and zombie shuffle, she dragged herself off to the bathroom without further protest.
When he was with the Yoshizawa sisters, Rinto often felt like they were the ones looking after him.
But with Momoka, it was the complete opposite.
For this rock-loving older girl who couldn't manage her own life to save it, Rinto felt a weird sense of duty to take care of her.
He couldn't even explain it properly.
…Maybe it was like finding a stray cat on the street and feeling like you had to take responsibility for her?
Well—what could you do? Rinto chuckled at himself.
Guess the first one to fall loses. And I was already a fan, after all.
Momoka didn't know it, but Rinto had actually been a fan of her music.
He'd only gotten into her songs a few months ago after someone recommended them to him. So he wasn't exactly a long-time fan.
But one of the reasons he'd finally decided to give up the phantom thief life and return to Tokyo to live as an ordinary citizen… was because of her music.
Not that he'd ever tell her that.
Despite how tough she acted, Momoka was actually pretty sensitive. The type to get easily overwhelmed.
Rinto didn't want to burden her. All he wanted was to quietly support her music, from the sidelines.
"—GYAAAHHHH!!"
Just as Rinto was lost in thought, a scream tore through the house from the bathroom.
There was a loud crash of bottles and toiletries hitting the floor, followed by Momoka bursting out of the bathroom soaking wet in only a towel.
She was crying in sheer terror, her eyes practically spinning.
"SNAKE! THERE'S A SNAKE!! (.>0<.) It came in through the window aaAAAHHHHH!!"
"Ah… yeah, the weather's been warming up lately. I figured the local wildlife would start waking up soon. Don't worry, I checked—there aren't any venomous species in the yard. Just dry your feet, you're gonna wreck the floor."
Rinto looked calmly at the flustered, half-naked, twenty-year-old gyaru-rocker wrapped in a towel… and maintained the serenity of a monk.
Eyes to nose. Nose to heart. Absolute composure.
He picked up the laundry pole leaning in the corner of the room.
Momoka watched in awe as he walked past her with quiet dignity and cool confidence.
In just a few motions, he had the snake gently lifted and tossed out of the house.
He looked… kinda hot like that…?
Momoka stared after him, dazed, heart pounding from the adrenaline—and maybe something else.
This is it, she thought in a daze. This must be that damn bridge effect. I'm falling for a younger guy. I wanna be his daughter.