When he started driving the kei car with Tia in the passenger seat, she immediately made a huge fuss. Apparently, automobiles were a novelty to her.

But since she was making such a racket—really like a child—Tooru found it plain irritating.

“Seriously, you were riding in one earlier too, weren’t you? In Sadoyama-san’s car. Why do you start freaking out the moment you get into mine?”

“Well, that Sadoyama—was that his name?—he was super tense, you know. If I can’t be sure someone’s a companion or an ally, I won’t relax around them. If I am sure, then I don’t mind loosening up a bit.”

“You were pretty friendly with the Anthem girls.”

“Of course. If I save a girl who’s on the verge of death, I’m going to be nice to her.”

Unlike you, anyway, Tia added.

Hearing that, Tooru thought it over again. He didn’t think he was that unkind.

It was a hassle, so he didn’t bother defending himself.

In any case, it took about fifteen minutes by car from Sugai Dungeon to Tooru’s home—his rundown apartment. Normally he would stop by the twenty-four-hour supermarket along the way to buy groceries, but he was too exhausted to feel like it, so he drove straight back.

He parked the kei car in the lot he rented, got out with Tia, and headed up to the second floor of the apartment.

Sitting in front of his door was a cat beastkin girl.

“Huh? A beastkin kid,” Tia said, stepping out from behind Tooru and peeking at the girl.

Perhaps noticing this, the cat girl looked up at Tooru. Then she shifted her gaze to Tia and frowned sharply.

“So you didn’t come home because you were bringing a woman with you.”

The girl spoke in a voice a little low for a child. Her name was Mika Shairii Sonoyama, a child from a single-mother household who lived in the unit next to Tooru’s.

“A lot happened. Have you eaten?” Tooru asked.

“No. I received money. Mom doesn’t know you weren’t home. You brought a woman with you… should I go back?”

“It’s fine. She’ll be back around two, right?”

“Probably. Unless she drinks herself unconscious.”

“Um… is she someone you know, Tooru?” Tia asked, unable to hold back her curiosity, a question mark practically floating over her head.

For some reason, Mika shot Tia a sharp glare and then ignored her completely, leaving Tooru with no choice but to explain himself.

“Uh… this cat brat is Mika. She lives next door. Her parent comes home late, so she kills time at my place pretty often. When her parent gets back, she just goes home on her own. And this blonde woman here is Tia. Because of certain circumstances, she’s sort of latched onto me—like a ghost.”

“I don’t really get it.”

“You know, you should probably stop being so lazy with your explanations,” Tia said.

For some reason, both of them turned their criticism on him, but Tooru figured that even if he went into detail, it wouldn’t really change anything, so he didn’t add anything further.

In any case, he stuck the key into the door and turned it, opening the gate to his one-LDK fortress.

The cat girl and the Holy Sword spirit briefly glanced at each other before stepping into Tooru’s apartment. He’d been a little worried, but Tia properly took off her shoes.

Anyway—home.

Feeling like he wouldn’t be able to stand back up if he sat down on the floor or bed, Tooru first set the magic cores and the dragon scale down together nearby. Then he headed for the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

Since he basically only went back and forth between work and home, Tooru didn’t own a rice cooker. At the start of each week, he cooked rice in a pot, divided it into single portions, and froze them.

“…Whatever, I’ll keep it simple. Mika, sorry, but can you defrost rice for three people?”

When he handed the containers taken from the freezer to the cat beastkin girl, she popped them into the microwave like it was second nature, set it to defrost, and pressed the button.

On the table he used as a dining table, he lined up his stainless-steel tumbler, Mika’s mug, and a glass he’d kept around just in case, then poured milk into them.

“I’ll make food, so drink that for now. …You’re eating, right?”

He’d leaned the Holy Sword against the wall, but apparently unable to decide on a proper place for herself in someone else’s room, Tia stood there awkwardly. Tooru asked her just in case.

“Sure, if you’re serving it, I’ll eat. So what should I do in the meantime?”

“Keep Mika company. And Mika, you keep Tia company.”

“Huh? No way. She’s a ghost, right?”

“She’s more like a pure, wholesome kind of ghost, so it’s fine.”

“Hey, I did say I was something like a ghost, but don’t reuse that explanation on little kids. What even is a ‘pure ghost’?”

“…I don’t get it.”

Even as she said that, it seemed difficult for Mika to keep glaring at someone who wasn’t showing hostility. Like a highly wary cat, she began circling around Tia, hovering cautiously at her side.

“Um… I’m Tia. You’re Mika, right? A cat beastkin, killing time at Tooru’s place until your parent comes home… did I get that right?”

“That’s right. My mom likes Tooru, so she tells me that if I’m going to be waiting alone at home, I should come over to Tooru’s place instead.”

“I see. Do you like Tooru? Is he kind?”

“He’s bad at being kind.”

“Ahaha! That might be true! Hey, I only just met Tooru not long ago. Tell me about him.”

“Sure. Then sit there.”

Having found a common topic, the two of them seemed to gradually warm up to each other, but Tooru wasn’t really listening to their conversation. He took an onion, a green pepper, and some chicken thigh out of the refrigerator, roughly chopped the ingredients, and pulled out a frying pan.

The menu was chicken rice. Making an omelet to put on top would have been a hassle, so he didn’t turn it into omurice. He plated the finished dish for the three of them on different plates—since none of them matched—and called over the cat and the ghost, who were whispering to each other about something.

“Whoa! That looks really good! Tooru, you can cook?”

“Simple stuff, yeah.”

“I like Tooru’s food.”

After securing her own plate, Mika took spoons for everyone out of the kitchen shelf. It was such a familiar sight by now that Tooru didn’t bother thanking her every time.

If one had to describe the nature of their relationship—it was simply that of a child from the neighboring apartment, part of a single-mother household. From an outside perspective, it would probably look like she’d been foisted on him, since the mother was easygoing and overly familiar. But as far as Tooru was concerned, he didn’t particularly mind.

For a girl around the lower grades of elementary school, Mika was fairly quiet and didn’t make many demands. They’d grown close, but she wasn’t clingy.

That might not be the healthiest attitude for a child to have, but to begin with, Tooru himself—Hayasaka Tooru—wasn’t exactly a model adult.

He didn’t think about improving Mika’s environment with adult decency and responsibility, and even if he did, it wouldn’t be something he could realistically achieve.

That wasn’t Tooru’s problem; it was Mika’s and her mother’s. He was only providing a place to be now and then. Acting like a guardian would be nothing more than arrogance.

“Sorry, but I’m dead tired. After we eat, I’m taking a bath, brushing my teeth, and going to bed. Do whatever you want after that. All right—let’s eat.”

“Let’s eat.”

When Tooru was alone, he didn’t bother putting his hands together and saying the phrase, but in front of Mika, he at least did that much.

Incidentally, Tia—unfamiliar with the Japanese pre-meal ritual—looked a bit confused, but Tooru’s quota of kindness for the day had already run out, so he didn’t say anything.

In any case—he was utterly exhausted.

Strangely enough, his body didn’t feel all that tired; it was his mind that was worn down.

The moment he sprawled out on the bed, he fell—more like dropped—asleep.

Like a cartoon character who leaps off a cliff, only to realize there’s no ground and start falling—he might have thought something like that, or maybe he didn’t even have time to think at all…