It took them one to two hours to finally reach the condo where Nemuri lived.
After she parked in the underground lot, they rode the elevator up to the VIP floor in comfortable silence.
When the door opened and they stepped inside, Maki spread his arms wide and inhaled deeply.
"Ah… yeah. This is the feeling," he murmured, absorbing the atmosphere of the place where he grew up.
He turned to Nemuri and asked if she wanted anything.
Instead of answering, she stepped close and wrapped her arms around him from behind.
"Welcome home," she whispered.
He smiled softly and patted her head.
"You too. Welcome home."
Then he turned, slipped his arms around her waist, and lifted her effortlessly until her face was level with his. He kissed her—slow at first, then deeper. His lips pressed firmly against hers as his arms tightened, pulling her body flush against his.
They could feel each other's warmth through their clothes.
Nemuri responded without hesitation. Her hands slid up to hold his jaw as she returned the kiss, parting her lips and breathing him in. The soft, wet sound of their mouths mingling filled the quiet room. Their tongues brushed, withdrew, returned again—unhurried, familiar.
When she finally pulled back, she rested her forehead against his shoulder and looped her arms around his neck.
"I can't believe it," she said softly. "Three days… and you've already found witches outside."
He tilted his head slightly. "I didn't do anything."
"That's the frustrating part," she replied, looking up at him. "You don't have to do anything. They'll just keep coming."
He studied her expression carefully.
"Maki… I'm giving up."
He raised a brow. "What? Can't take it anymore, Nem-nem?"
She let out a soft, amused breath. "Fufufu… I'd rather give in than let those bitches take you first."
His gaze softened. He brushed his thumb gently against her cheek.
"Later," he said quietly. "You're tired. Even if you don't say it, I can see it. You're weaker right now."
He pecked her lips.
"What do you want? I'll cook for you."
Nemuri smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. He really was considerate.
"Anything," she said. "As long as you cook it."
He carried her to the sofa and set her down gently before heading straight to the kitchen.
Nemuri watched him with a small smile.
There was always a silent tension between them—who would give in first, who would take the lead. As an R-Rated hero, she never backed down easily.
But things felt different now.
She had noticed how magnetic he was with women. The frustrating part was that he wasn't aware of it. He didn't see himself as charming or desirable. To him, he was just simple.
And that simplicity made him even more dangerous.
If things continued like this… someone might take advantage of him.
Nemuri slowly licked her lips.
"Maki… I can't wait any longer~"
Her hand slipped beneath the hem of her pencil skirt. Fingers traced over the thin fabric of her panties, moving slowly, deliberately. A shiver ran through her body as she stroked herself through the cloth.
"Ahh…"
In the kitchen, Maki focused on cooking, unaware that Nemuri's hunger wasn't only for food.
Tonight's dish was Bacalhau à Brás — a comforting blend of shredded salted cod, thin matchstick potatoes, sautéed onions, and softly bound eggs.
He soaked the cod, boiled it briefly, removed the skin and bones, then shredded it carefully.
He sliced the potatoes into thin matchsticks and fried them until golden and crisp.
He sautéed onions and garlic slowly in olive oil until fragrant, then added the cod, followed by the potatoes.
Finally, he poured beaten eggs into the mixture over low heat, stirring constantly so they emulsified into a silky sauce instead of forming hard curds.
When the dish was ready, he called for Nemuri.
She had already bathed and changed into a loose white shirt and black panty shorts.
He glanced at her with a playful look.
"I wonder what's more tasteful—my dish, or you?"
She twisted her waist slightly, teasing. The thin fabric revealed the faint outline of her nipples.
"I wonder…" she replied.
They both chuckled and sat together at the table, eating while talking about his three days at UA. For a while, they simply acted like a normal couple.
After the meal, Maki cleaned up.
Then he went to shower. He hadn't bathed for three days, yet he still looked fresh and carried a natural scent. He wondered if it was because of his Hashirama physique that kept his body constantly renewed.
Still, he showered anyway.
When he stepped out, he didn't bother dressing. At home, he rarely did.
Suddenly—
Thud.
He turned toward the sound.
Nemuri had dropped her phone.
Her eyes were locked on him—but not on his face.
They were lower.
Her cheeks flushed instantly.
"W-What is that?!" she stammered, pointing downward with wide eyes.
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( ﾟﾛﾟ)!!