” “Chichiue-sama, it’s Minato.
“Yes—nothing happened last night.
I just stayed over at someone’s home for the evening.
“It may take a little more time, but I’ll come back when I can find a moment.
“There’s also something I’d like to ask of you, Chichiue-sama.
I may need a sum of money to handle this matter.
“Mm—it’s related to the matter with Shiki.
I’ll explain it to you in detail once I’m back.
“Thank you, Chichiue-sama.
By the way—did Shiki go out again last night after all?
“It was raining, so she didn’t?
All right, I understand.
Mm—I’ll take good care of myself, Chichiue-sama.”
…
Hanging up the phone, Ryōgi Minato had intended to use the “future” he’d glimpsed through his so-called Future Sight to persuade his foster father into backing him with funds.
But the boy’s foster father didn’t press much on the matter—he simply told him to ask Akitaka for however much he needed, granting him complete trust.
That decided him: once he was back, he’d tell his foster father about “the future he’d seen.”
After all, from what he’d learned from Kuonji Alice, the Ryōgi family he belonged to apparently wasn’t any ordinary household—so they would likely choose to believe him on such matters too.
Only, with the possible “settle-it-with-money” approach now arranged, Ryōgi Minato found himself abruptly at loose ends.
By the danmaku’s reckoning, there were still about ten days until the Witch on the Holy Night storyline began—and even then, Aozaki Touko-san wouldn’t be returning to Misaki Town right as the story kicked off.
Still, Ryōgi Minato had no intention of heading back to the Ryōgi family just yet, because the danmaku’s accounts and reality might not line up exactly.
No one could guarantee that Aozaki Touko-san would truly return in a month’s time, and not sooner.
To guard against just such a “surprise,” the boy decided to remain in Misaki Town for now.
That way, the moment word of her arrived, he could act at once.
As for the present…
He cast a glance around the hotel room—no match for his own family’s dōjō, but spacious enough.
Ryōgi Minato drew Yamato from its cloth bag and began his daily routine of sword training.
…
After the rainy night, today’s weather was markedly better.
Not a cloud in sight, the gentle sunlight chasing off, for now, the chill of late autumn—clean and refreshing.
Climbing that slope once more, Ryōgi Minato was just about to rap lightly on the latticed gate when the iron door, as if sensing his arrival, swung open of its own accord a step ahead of him.
Is this the work of that thing called “magecraft” too?
Eyeing the gate with some curiosity, the boy clutched his blade and crossed the weed-strewn garden to the front of the main house.
Since there was nothing like a doorbell, Ryōgi Minato rose slightly onto his toes and knocked softly.
After a few dozen seconds, the door opened in answer.
The ever-energetic Aoko stood at the entryway, smiling a touch awkwardly, while the young witch stood behind her, watching in silence—as if to keep Aoko from doing anything foolish.
“Minato, is there something you need?”
Knowing the lady of the house disliked outsiders wandering freely into the house, Ryōgi Minato had no intention of stepping inside.
He stood obediently at the door, drew the bill-stuffed envelope from his coat, and held it out to Aoko in her casual clothes.
“This is the cost of the ingredients and lodging I mentioned this morning.
Please accept it.”
Aoko took the envelope on reflex and glanced down—and at even a cursory look, her eyebrow gave a twitch.
That’s got to be close to two hundred thousand yen… enough to live lavishly for months…
Thinking of how, between magecraft expenses, she and Alice scraped by on a food budget of just over thirty thousand yen a month, Aoko couldn’t help marveling.
A child of a great family, all right—throwing money around like this.
Still…
Aoko pushed the envelope back at the boy, shaking her head.
“It’s fine, really.
This morning’s breakfast already squared us for the lodging and ingredients—you don’t need to worry about it, Minato.”
“But I only made some trifling dishes, and with your ingredients at that.
So please, accept it, Aoko, Kuonji-san.
Think of it as a fee for contacting me once Aozaki Touko-san returns.”
Ryōgi Minato held the envelope out again.
To him, a single breakfast couldn’t square the kindness of a night’s lodging and a meal.
Had there been nothing the two of them needed help with, he wouldn’t have settled the debt so bluntly with money.
And truthfully, the sum was indeed a bit much—but in the “knowledge” he carried, this sort of thing was apparently called the give-and-take of social grace.
Though he didn’t fully understand the phrase yet, the literal-minded boy figured stuffing in a little extra couldn’t hurt, and had drawn part of the kendo prize money he’d won these past two years as repayment.
“This is…”
Taking the envelope again, Aoko’s face grew troubled.
Something about it felt off to her, and she could only turn a pleading look toward her housemate.
Alice’s reaction, by contrast, was utterly composed; she gave Aoko a nod, as if she meant to accept it.
Aoko’s eyes went wide in disbelief.
She immediately leaned in close to the young witch and dropped her voice.
“Alice, are you seriously planning to take this kid’s money?”
“Mm.
Didn’t he say himself it’s a contact fee for later?”
“But it’s way too much—doesn’t your conscience as an ojou-sama sting at all?”
“Aoko, you’ve botched this month’s magecraft experiments twelve times already.
We don’t have the money to keep bankrolling that kind of waste.”
Hearing the sharp words, Aoko felt a headache coming on.
Fine—she’d admit it was her fault.
But she was still a magecraft novice; half the time she couldn’t tell the difference between so-called “quality” and “quantity.”
And those practice experiments were just too complicated.
Worn out as she was coming home from school each day, where was she supposed to find the focus to manipulate such minute things?
Still, faced with Alice’s faintly “greedy” behavior, Aoko decided to mount a proper “counterattack.”
So she cleared her throat, softened her voice, and spoke in a coaxing tone.
“Say, Alice—since this kid’s so rich, if we took him on as a lodger, couldn’t we bump up our monthly food budget?”
“Aoko, do I look like a fool to you?”
The young witch shot her a cool glance, something almost mocking in it.
“Ahem—you’re overthinking it.
I’m being serious with this suggestion.”
Aoko coughed lightly and pressed on, putting on an air of gravity.
“Think about it.
This kid’s not only a great cook, he’s obedient too, and he’s even got that thing called Future Sight.
As magi, who knows but that one day we might need to borrow his ability.
Getting on good terms with him now costs us nothing.”
Alice frowned.
She had no interest whatsoever in what Aoko was proposing.
Just as she was about to voice her refusal, Aoko played her trump card, leaning in to murmur by her ear.
“With the extra rent, we could have fine wagashi every day, you know.
Pair them with the black tea you love—doesn’t a life like that sound wonderful, Alice?”
Lips pressing together, the exquisitely doll-like girl swallowed the words she’d been about to say, and—astonishingly—began to seriously consider it.
Only, after a moment’s silence, the words she offered, as if in compromise, instead left Aoko at a loss.
“Aoko, you’ve got one thing wrong.”
“Hm?
What?”
Aoko had assumed such talk might at least offset the guilt of accepting the excessive “contact fee,” and nudge her housemate into lending a bit more effort to helping the boy find the person he was looking for.
But Alice’s next words left Aoko’s expression frozen in bafflement.
“That child has no reason whatsoever to move in here.
Are you planning to force him?”
Watching Aoko go blank, Alice understood she’d simply spoken without thinking it through.
Still, it wasn’t as if she didn’t understand her housemate’s naivety.
The young witch studied the boy still standing outside the door, tilted her head in thought, then stepped forward to stand before him and spoke.
“You—do you want to become a magus?”