The fork stabbed straight through the carpet and lodged itself into the wooden floor.
Kyousuke stared at the utensil, which had landed just half a centimeter away from his foot, a cold sweat breaking out on his back.
'All I did was glance at you! Was that really necessary?'
'Besides, didn't you look at me too? That makes us even!'
"I didn't do it on purpose!"
Eriri had initially wanted to check if Kyousuke was hurt, but when she saw the speechless expression on his face, her words of concern immediately transformed into a defensive retort.
Across the table, Mrs. Sayuri and Mr. Spencer exchanged a glance before sharing a knowing smile.
They said nothing, simply continuing their meal while radiating the unmistakable air of amused onlookers.
Kyousuke glanced at the Sawamura couple, their faces unable to conceal their amusement, and sighed before bending down to pull the fork out of the floor.
He expected Eriri to go to the kitchen to fetch a new fork, but instead, she simply picked up her plate and shoveled the remaining omelet into her mouth using her knife.
"Lily, mind your manners," Mr. Spencer admonished.
"Mmmph!" Eriri tried to protest, but the omelet was too big for her small mouth.
Her cheeks bulged as she struggled to chew, nearly choking in her haste.
Alarmed, Kyousuke quickly slid her cup of milk tea within reach.
With a few frantic chews, she forced the omelet down with a gulp of tea—only for it to momentarily get stuck in her throat, prompting Kyousuke to pat her back in concern.
Having barely survived a second near-death experience within a few seconds, Eriri had initially planned to retaliate by exposing her father's true nature.
However, after some thought, she decided against it, choosing instead to huff in frustration and plop back into her seat.
The Spencer family finished eating soon after, but instead of leaving the table, they sat back and watched as Kyousuke continued his meal with a fascinated intensity.
Watching a real-life competitive eater in action, the three of them couldn't help but feel tempted to eat a little more.
Even Eriri, drawn in by the atmosphere, reached for another piece of bread.
However, after just two bites, her tiny stomach reached its limit.
"Hojou, do you always eat this much?"
Barely managing to swallow her mouthful, Eriri stared at him in disbelief.
She recalled that the last time he visited, he had also devoured everything her mother had prepared—but it hadn't been this extreme.
"Spencer-san's cooking is just too good."
Kyousuke wiped his mouth with a smile.
Spencer's formal handshake earlier had unconsciously led him to adopt a more respectful tone.
"Is it really that good? It's mostly just pre-made ingredients thrown together."
Eriri skeptically took another sip of her cereal porridge. Then, she noticed the peculiar way Kyousuke had addressed her father.
"You can just call him Robin. He's British—he doesn't care about formality as much as the Japanese do."
"Exactly, Hojou-kun. You're Lily's friend, so just call me Robin," Mr. Spencer added.
"In that case, you can all just call me Kyousuke," Kyousuke replied.
Having had enough of being watched while he ate, he put down his utensils.
He liked eating while watching something, but he had no interest in being the one watched.
"Kyousuke-kun, are you sure you don't want more?" Mrs. Sayuri asked.
"No, I've already eaten plenty."
"Then let's move to the living room," Mr. Spencer said, rising from his seat and gesturing invitingly.
Though Kyousuke wasn't sure what this was about, he obediently followed.
Seated at the table, Eriri watched her father's behavior, pouted slightly, and let out a small click of her tongue.
Despite her apparent reluctance, she eventually got up and followed them.
By the time Kyousuke and Mr. Spencer were seated at the tea table in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows, Eriri had already brought over a tray with a teapot and cups. She poured tea for both of them before quietly taking a seat beside them, like a delicate porcelain doll.
Though, with her blonde hair and fair skin, she certainly resembled a doll, her choice of outfit—a somewhat tacky tracksuit—diminished the effect.
That said, her elegance still shone through… as long as one ignored the occasional flash of her tiny fangs as she chewed.
"I hear from Lily that you're a middle school student as well?"
Mr. Spencer raised his teacup slightly in acknowledgment before taking a sip.
"Yes, I attend Higashi Middle School."
It made sense for him to be cautious. After all, a stranger had suddenly become close to his daughter. Any normal parent would be concerned.
With that in mind, Kyousuke, despite feeling a little uncomfortable with the formality of the conversation, chose to answer honestly.
"Higashi Middle School? That's quite impressive." Mr. Spencer sounded somewhat exaggerated in his praise.
"Heh, I just got lucky," Kyousuke replied modestly.
"No, it's not luck. Lily says you're ranked first in science and among the top in every other subject."
"…"
Kyousuke suddenly found himself at a loss for words. Had his academic record really become this exaggerated in just one week?
Luckily, Eriri came to his rescue.
"Dad, enough with this. Haven't you already looked into him?"
"Lily, what are you talking about?" Mr. Spencer glanced at Kyousuke awkwardly before hurriedly taking another sip of tea to cover his expression.
"Ho- Kyousuke already knows I'm a doujin artist, so you don't have to keep up the diplomatic act." As she said his name, Eriri felt a strange nervousness creep up.
Other than her female friends at school, Kyousuke was the only person she addressed so casually. And he was a boy.
After a brief pause, she turned back to Kyousuke.
"The person I mentioned before—the one who helps sell my doujinshi at conventions? That's my dad."
Wait, what?
Kyousuke looked from Eriri to Mr. Spencer, who sat across from him in a crisp white shirt and brown vest.
A diplomat… running a booth… selling risqué doujinshi at conventions?
Even as someone who had experienced a past life, Kyousuke struggled to picture the scene.
This man's mental fortitude was off the charts.
Wasn't he afraid of bumping into someone he knew? Was his dedication as a doting father really this strong?
Glancing at the now thoroughly embarrassed Mr. Spencer, Kyousuke couldn't help but marvel at his resolve.
"Well, Kyousuke-kun, there's actually a bit of a backstory to it…" Mr. Spencer wiped the sweat from his brow with a white handkerchief, attempting to explain.
"And he's not just a helper—he's also a huge otaku and—"
"Lily! That's enough! Take Kyousuke-kun to your room. I won't bother you two any longer."
Before she could finish exposing him, Mr. Spencer hastily interrupted.
"He'd find out sooner or later anyway."
Despite her words, Eriri decided to let her father off the hook, choosing to preserve his dignity in front of an outsider.
"Let's go."
She hopped off her chair and strode away without looking back.
Still somewhat bewildered by the conversation, Kyousuke gave a slight bow to Mr. Spencer before following after her.
Watching Eriri ascend the grand redwood spiral staircase in her green tracksuit, Kyousuke felt an itch in his obsessive-compulsive tendencies.
A staircase like this called for a princess dress, not twin-tails and a tracksuit.
"Eriri, why are Sayuri-san and Robin-san dressed so formally, but you…"
Catching up to her in two steps, Kyousuke asked, genuinely curious.
"Mom always dresses up, even when she's alone. Dad put on formalwear to welcome you. As for me…"
Eriri turned around, standing one step above Kyousuke so that their eyes met.
Lifting her chin proudly, she tried to adopt a lofty expression, her blue eyes staring straight into his.
But the moment their gazes locked, a soft blush crept up her pale cheeks.
Flustered, she quickly turned away before continuing in a smaller voice.
"You're not some important person, so why should I bother changing just to greet you?!"
Her words came out fast, tinged with a hint of embarrassment—completely failing to achieve the effect Eriri had imagined.
That's right, this was exactly it.
It absolutely wasn't because she had been so absorbed in drawing a piece based on Kyousuke that she lost track of time.
And it definitely wasn't because her mother had let Kyousuke in without notifying her, leaving her no time to change or make herself presentable.
'Ugh, seriously, this is so annoying.'
'He's already seen me looking a mess twice now! All my carefully crafted disguises are ruined!'
Fuming at the thought, the girl stomped forward, each step making the staircase echo with loud thuds.
If it's not a big deal, then why are you so mad?
Watching Eriri inexplicably get angrier, Kyousuke followed behind, utterly bewildered.
Once inside her room, he took a moment to look around and noticed a significant change he hadn't caught before.
Last time, the cabinet beside the work desk had been stacked with towering drafts.
Now, those drafts were nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by a scanner.
After deciding to collaborate with Eriri on the manga, Kyousuke had done some research. He immediately recognized the machine.
Additionally, another table had been added next to her main work desk, each table equipped with a computer and a drawing tablet.
'Damn… so this is what it means to be rich. I love it!'
No wonder she told me I didn't need to bring anything—she had already prepared everything in advance.
"I didn't ask you, but given your drawing skills, switching from traditional to digital shouldn't be an issue for you. So, I went ahead and got a tablet setup."
Eriri sat in her usual seat and pointed to the new table beside her.
"You can use the computer on the right. You haven't used a drawing tablet before, but with your brain, I'm sure you'll pick it up quickly."
"Thanks!" Kyousuke said sincerely.
"It's just my dad's old computer! It's not like I got it just for you!"
Hearing the genuine appreciation in his voice, Eriri's face turned red. She quickly lowered her head and powered on the computer.
Glancing at the clearly brand-new computer and drawing tablet, Kyousuke hesitated for only three seconds before promptly sitting down.
The one who pays is the boss. Who was he to argue with a rich girl? That would be reckless!
Eriri leaned over to help him set up the computer and configure the tablet.
Their chairs were already close, and when she bent forward slightly, the collar of her shirt slipped down, revealing a patch of fair skin.
A faint, pleasant scent drifted toward him, subtly invading his senses.
She didn't seem very familiar with the tablet either and struggled to get it working.
Frustration was evident on her face, her adorable fang peeking out slightly as if she were about to take a bite out of the device.
Meanwhile, Kyousuke, now with time to spare, found himself pondering that scent.
Eggs?
Could it be that Eriri really liked eating eggs? The image of her earlier at the dining table, boldly stuffing a whole fried egg into her mouth, flashed through his mind.
Wait… that's not right. That scent wasn't something real—it was his unique "sense" picking up something like a biological signature.
Sakura smelled like morning dew, which made sense—she was full of energy, and dew symbolized vitality.
But eggs? What was the connection?
"Kyousuke? It's ready. What are you spacing out for?"
Eriri turned back, only to see him staring intently at her neck.
Her face flushed, and just as she was about to scold him for being a pervert, she realized he was lost in thought.
"Eriri, do you like eggs?"
The question slipped out before he could stop himself.
"Huh? If they're cooked well, then yeah." Though confused, Eriri still answered.
"I see."
"Why do you ask?"
"No reason. You just looked like you really enjoyed that fried egg earlier."
"!"
Eriri's head shot up, glaring at him in embarrassment.
"And whose fault do you think that was?! If you hadn't suddenly stared at me, I wouldn't have been startled, my fork wouldn't have dropped, and I wouldn't have eaten like that!"
"...Yes, yes, it's all my fault. Let's just get started, shall we?"
Kyousuke wisely chose to take the blame and move on.
"Damn right it is!" Eriri huffed, clicking her mouse to open a file. "I edited the sketches you drew last time."
Kyousuke leaned over to take a look. The rough black-and-white drafts he had made were now fully colored.
Dialogue boxes were added—crying sounds from a little girl, a villain's taunting words, the crash of a collapsing building.
Eriri had even extrapolated the story's development from just three crude panels, drawing a scene of Saitama rushing in.
Except… her version of Saitama was flying.
She had also designed a uniform, adding a giant fist emblem on the chest, with subtle shading to create a leather-like texture.
His cape billowed dramatically in the wind as he soared through the sky.
"Well?"
Though she kept her eyes on the screen, Kyousuke could hear the unmistakable anticipation in her voice. She wanted praise.
"This is amazing. You're incredible, Eriri-sensei!"
Although he desperately wanted to restore Saitama's original, plain look, as a self-proclaimed master of human relationships, he knew now was the time for unreserved compliments.
"Hehe, it's not that impressive. I just touched up your work a little."
Said the girl who had spent four consecutive nights painstakingly working with an unfamiliar tablet.
"I remember you mentioning a bit about the plot last time, but do you have a more detailed outline?"
Now satisfied with the praise, the blonde girl eagerly returned to work.
"Hold on. Before we start, we need to discuss something important." Kyousuke's tone grew serious.
"What is it?" Eriri asked, puzzled.
"How are we going to structure our collaboration? Will it be a hired position or a partnership?"
"Hired position?"
"Like a manga assistant. You help refine the manga, and I pay you."
"Tch! I know what a manga assistant is. I'm asking why we're even discussing this. I just added a few details—it's nothing! Just consider it my way of thanking you for your help last time."
"No way. You already helped me a ton by teaching me how to draw. How can I just take advantage of you for free?"
"T-Take advantage?!" Eriri's face turned crimson as she instinctively prepared to attack with her twin tails.
"Wait, wait! That's not what I meant!"
To prevent getting a mouthful of hair, Kyousuke quickly reached out to hold her back.
"P-Pervert! Pervert!"
Even restrained, Eriri continued muttering under her breath.
"What I mean is, this is your hard work. I can't just take it for granted—that would be disrespectful."
Her mind immediately conjured up a string of inappropriate, 18+ scenarios from those words.
"Don't be so serious! The main plot and core of the manga are yours. I'd be drawing anyway, so this is just a way to practice. It's no big deal."
"If that's the case, I'd rather hire some second-rate assistant."
"Why are you so stubborn?! Those amateurs could never bring your crazy art to life like I can!"
"Right? Since this is something only you can do, the sheer rarity alone means I have to find a way to keep you by my side no matter what."
"Idiot! Don't say things that can be so easily misunderstood!"