Chapter 20: Qingling, Please Behave Yourself

With that scrawny frame, if I were to throw a punch and he collapsed on the spot, I might end up compensating him so much I’d lose even my underwear.

Just then, Meiryu Seiryo emerged from the lingerie store, carrying a shopping bag and looking utterly delighted.

“G-goddess…” The chuunibyou boy froze at the sight of her, staring in a daze.

Haruharu Haruno grinned at the scene, strode forward, and wrapped an arm around Meiryu’s slender waist.

Lady Seiryo didn’t resist. She glanced at the chuunibyou, who was gawking at her, and the joy on her face promptly turned to disdain.

“Is he your friend? A shut-in paired with a delusional dreamer?”

“No,” Haruharu replied, shaking his head. Then, still holding Meiryu by the waist, he walked away. As they passed by the chuunibyou, he added with a cheerful tone, “Your goddess summoned me long ago, kid!”

That single sentence shattered the chuunibyou’s formidable inner world.

“Pathetic,” Meiryu muttered with a pout.

And with that, the two of them left.

Back home, Haruharu began washing the ingredients for hotpot.

Meanwhile, Meiryu glanced at his busy figure in the kitchen, feeling a little pleased, and left the lingerie she’d just bought out in the open.

“Seiryo, can you thaw the sesame paste in the fridge? I’ll prepare the dipping sauce.”

Just then, Haruharu entered the living room with the induction cooktop and caught sight of the scene.

“Ahhh!”

Meiryu’s face flushed crimson as she cursed under her breath.

Haruharu, unfazed, acted as though it was nothing special—after all, it wasn’t as if he’d never seen such things before. There was nothing worth hiding.

If you think it’s unfair, I’ll show you mine too.

Hearing this, Meiryu was momentarily stunned, her mind whirring with unknown thoughts as her face grew even redder.

“What the— You actually want to see? I never expected you to have such a fetish, Seiryo. My, my!”

“You bastard!”

Meiryu shouted.

In the midst of their playful bickering, the two finished preparing the hotpot ingredients.

When it came time to thaw the sesame paste, Lady Seiryo was, of course, clueless.

So Haruharu had to teach her step by step, finally commenting, “Idiot, you can’t even manage something this simple…”

Meiryu shot him a glare but didn’t care anymore. Saving face was nothing compared to filling her stomach.

Seeing her aggrieved little look, Haruharu barked, “What? Still not happy? My hands have been itching lately…”

As he spoke, he rubbed his pudgy right hand.

Seeing this, Meiryu’s face turned red, and she instinctively covered her backside, almost feeling a phantom pain.

Biting her lip, she cursed back, “Pervert! Bastard! Fatty!”

Haruharu was only teasing; all problems could wait until after a good meal.

Watching as the annoying fatso made no further move, Meiryu felt a faint sense of disappointment.

What an infuriating jerk!

The bubbling hotpot sent up clouds of steam. Meiryu sat on the floor cushion, swallowing involuntarily as she stared at the spicy red broth, chopsticks poised but unmoving.

“It’s ready,” Haruharu announced.

Meiryu immediately fished out a thin slice of lamb with her chopsticks.

She blew on it twice, cheeks puffed, then hurriedly stuffed it into her mouth.

“Ow, hot, hot, hot!”

She fanned her mouth with her hand, trying to cool the lamb.

Haruharu couldn’t help laughing at the sight—he’d never imagined the proud lady could be so adorable.

His unrestrained laughter drew Meiryu’s strong displeasure. Under the table, her bare, milky-white feet squirmed restlessly, as if she’d discovered some amusing new toy.

“You have to eat it like this,” Haruharu said, demonstrating. He picked up a generous portion of lamb, dipped it thoroughly in the sauce, let it cool for a moment, and then popped it into his mouth, eating with gusto.

Seeing how much he enjoyed it, Meiryu tried to imitate him. As soon as she tasted it, her eyes lit up with joy.

Mmm! Delicious!

Her little mouth was stuffed full, as if she’d discovered a new world.

Because they’d wasted quite a bit of time on their way back and while messing around, it was nearly evening by the time they finally ate.

The golden light of sunset streamed in, dyeing the wooden floor a vibrant orange-red.

The October breeze drifted through the window into the tiny living room, scarcely more than a dozen square meters. There, a man and a woman sat at a wooden tea table, enjoying hotpot together.

The girl was in high spirits, her golden hair falling carelessly to her waist, her long, bare legs sprawled out as she sat on the cushion in a most unladylike fashion, occasionally letting out peals of laughter like silver bells.

Her big eyes sparkled with light.

They ate for over half an hour. When they finished, Meiryu, shirking all responsibility, grabbed her new lingerie and went straight to shower, leaving the mess for Haruharu to clean up.

Haruharu shook his head helplessly, listening to the sound of water splashing in the bathroom as he set about tidying things up.

By the time he was nearly done, Meiryu emerged from her shower.

She wore nothing but Haruharu’s plain white T-shirt, which was so loose it barely covered her hips. Her long, shapely legs were completely exposed, sparking all sorts of thoughts.

“Go take your shower,” Meiryu said bluntly, toweling her damp hair as she flopped onto the sofa to watch TV.

Haruharu sniffed at his clothes, which reeked of hotpot, grabbed a change of clothes, and headed for the bathroom.

He glanced at the Crayon Shin-chan towel carelessly hung on a wall hook, rolled his eyes, and, after a moment's hesitation, reached out and grabbed it—just because it was an eyesore and he wanted it removed.

It felt cool to the touch, made of some unknown but evidently high-quality material.

Shaking off his idle thoughts, Haruharu started his shower.

A guy’s shower never took long; in less than ten minutes, he was done.

Pulling on his oversized pajamas, he opened the bathroom door to find Meiryu standing right outside.

Before he could say anything, Meiryu squeezed past him into the bathroom. When she saw the Crayon Shin-chan towel still hanging in the corner, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Weirdo,” Haruharu muttered as he headed to the living room.

He flopped onto the sofa, crossing his legs. After a long day, this was the most comfortable and relaxing moment: freshly showered, sprawled on the couch, watching this year’s hit anime. If only there were a beautiful girl beside him, it would be perfect.