After sorting things out with Yukinoshita Haruno, Hayashi Maki took a shower and returned to his room.
Before long, Shiina Mahiru came in with her hair wrapped up, wearing a white camisole dress.
"Maki-kun, blow-dry my hair for me," she said in a coaxing tone, cheeks faintly pink.
Hayashi Maki smiled and nodded. "Sure."
He took her hand and sat her on a little stool. With one hand he gently combed her silky golden hair; with the other, he conjured a soft stream of warm air to dry it.
Magic—if you've learned it, use it.
They hadn't run into any real danger lately, but Hayashi Maki didn't want to end up like that "overly cautious" hero—regretting only afterward.
In a past life he'd watched an anime called Cautious Hero: The Hero Is Overpowered but Overly Cautious: the MC's first run as a hero ended in a total party wipe because, fired up but unprepared, he charged the demon lord.
On the second run he became overly cautious. Same principle here: Hayashi Maki wasn't going to wait for a crisis to train. Using magic in daily life was also a way to hone himself.
Mahiru sat obediently, enjoying the warmth of him tending to her hair. Hayashi Maki's hand stroked and combed the angel's soft gold; hair billowed, carrying that faint, intoxicating fragrance that soothed the heart.
His gaze drifted to her white neck, that dewy, glowing skin—and fresh from Haruno's place, he swallowed. What a wolf I am, he thought—always wanting to "be bad" with cute girls.
But… could you blame him? Mahiru was too cute.
In short order, her hair was dry. Just as she was about to speak, Mashiro appeared in beige pajamas, damp hair clinging, those beautiful eyes fixed straight on Hayashi Maki.
Mahiru sighed. The "caregiver contract" her lousy father had foisted on her—wasn't this inviting a wolf into the house? No—more like inviting a sly cat to compete with her for a man.
Sometimes she felt Mashiro should be called "True Black" instead of "Mashiro." She looked airheaded and lacked basic life skills, but when it came to tempting a man, even Mahiru blushed.
With that thought, Mahiru scooted aside to the edge of the bed. "Maki-kun, do Mashiro's hair too. If she goes to sleep with it wet, she'll catch a cold."
She didn't dislike Mashiro—in fact, she assumed Mashiro would someday be part of this home. Better to start getting along now, as family.
Because of Mashiro, she'd also cut ties cleanly with Shiina Asahi and could stay by Hayashi Maki without worry. Besides, with Mashiro as she was, Mahiru didn't trust handing her to anyone else; keeping her near Maki-kun was safer.
Mashiro sat sweetly where Mahiru had just been and let Hayashi Maki tend to her hair. Eyes half-closed, she wore an expression of bliss—clearly pleased to have someone brush her hair.
In essence she had a "pet" temperament; being cared for was her favorite state. Her body might be mature, but her personality was like an ungrown child—pure and guileless.
Er… hopefully pure; let's not find out it's black on the inside.
"Eep~"
Mashiro suddenly let out an extremely suggestive sound, making Mahiru blush bright red. "Mashiro-nee, what are you doing?"
To make a shameless noise like that…
Mashiro, unfazed, said, "It tickles. Hayashi Maki touched my ear."
"Hah?" Mahiru stared, speechless.
Mashiro met her eyes seriously and added, "It's sensitive there."
"Who asked to know your sensitive spots!"
Mahiru glared at her. She took back her earlier kindness—"Mashiro" really was "True Black"! The way she accidentally tempted a man made even Mahiru blush and her heart race.
"But Mahiru asked—so why are you mad?" Mashiro glanced at her, then tilted her head at Hayashi Maki.
"I'm not mad," Mahiru muttered, face scarlet. She's too good at this, Mahiru thought—so airheaded, yet casually alluring.
Watching the two girls, Hayashi Maki was quietly amused. He pinched Mashiro's cheek, then patted her head. "All done—your hair's dry."
"Oh." Mashiro nodded—but didn't move.
Mahiru arched a brow and prompted, "Mashiro-nee, time for bed."
"Oh."
Only then did Mashiro nod like a commanded pet, lift the covers, and climb into bed.
One problem: that was Hayashi Maki's bed. And his blanket.
Mahiru's composure cracked. "Mashiro-nee, shouldn't you go back to the room next door?"
Mashiro pulled the blanket over her head and protested, "No. Both of my keepers are here, and I have to sleep alone? That's too cruel."
"I—you—"
Mahiru was so flustered she couldn't speak. She prided herself on a big heart, but Mashiro's behavior scrambled it.
Hayashi Maki chuckled, smoothing Mahiru's hair. "Don't be mad. She probably isn't used to sleeping alone. Let's keep her company tonight."
Mahiru pouted and shot him a look. "More like you want to misbehave."
Still, she had to admit it made sense. Mashiro was new here, without her previous keeper Rita; of course she'd depend on Mahiru and Hayashi Maki. Mahiru slid under the covers and nestled into Hayashi Maki's arms. Maybe it wasn't so hard to accept. Poor Maki-kun, though—with Mashiro here, no "bad things" tonight.
Hayashi Maki didn't mind. Savoring the sense of safety, he closed his eyes. He couldn't always misbehave with Mahiru; sometimes they needed pure, cozy cuddles. Breathing evened out; Mahiru fell asleep quickly. Her heart was getting bold—sleeping this peacefully with a sly cat in the room.
Mashiro, however, couldn't sleep. Glancing at Mahiru curled in Hayashi Maki's arms, she unconsciously pouted. Hand to her chest, she felt a strange ache—uncomfortable, but hard to name.
After a moment, she quietly shifted, moving behind Hayashi Maki. Pressing against his broad back and breathing in his scent, the discomfort eased. She closed her eyes, and sleep finally came.
~~~
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