I have an unlimited number of shikigami

As if she had seen something glaringly obvious, Kasahara Fukaeri couldn't help but squint and stare at him.

That look in her eyes was unlike anything she'd ever seen before, but it only lasted for a fleeting moment. Two seconds later, she quickly looked away, her cheeks slightly flushed.

As Fujiwara Izaya approached her, he said, "It's our turn to talk."

"Stop!" Kasahara Fukaeri shouted.

"Ok?"

Fujiwara Izaya was somewhat puzzled.

Wasn't this woman always interested in his identity? Why is she rejecting him now that he's revealed it himself?

“…You, you put your clothes on before coming over…” Kasahara Fukari stammered for a moment, took a deep breath, and said in the softest voice, “Put your clothes on before you come over…”

"..."

Even the usually thick-skinned Fujiwara Izaya is now so embarrassed he wants to die.

There were clean towels hanging by the pool. He put away his Great Tengu form, lowered his head and rushed over, silently wrapping himself up tightly in the towel.

Kasahara Fukae turned her face to one side, and her toes, hidden in her stockings, had already curled up shyly.

As Fujiwara Izaya climbed out of the pool wearing only shorts, her gaze fell upon his physique. While not exactly muscular, his muscles were firm and defined, especially his well-proportioned abs, which perfectly blended beauty and strength. No woman could resist touching and feeling them after just one glance.

Stop!

I can't think about it!

Kasahara Fukaeri stopped thinking about it and gazed at the clouds outside the window.

The sky remained overcast, and all colors—from the distant Skytree tower to the tall cranes at the nearby construction site, and even the warning lights of airplanes in the sky—were absorbed into the deep shadows of the clouds.

The thunder was also rumbling incessantly.

Each time a flash of white light streaks across the sky, it shakes the glass windows and briefly paints the outlines of objects inside the room with a layer of white paint.

"Miss Kasahara, thank you for today." Fujiwara Izaya returned wrapped in a bath towel and lay down on the lounge chair next to her.

"Yeah, it's nothing."

Kasahara Fukaeri said, as if she were an outsider, that her voice sounded like a news anchor on television.

After speaking, she squinted at the window, her expression thoughtful. She wore a business-like black suit, and her legs, draped over a recliner, were encased in smooth, delicate black stockings. From the side, she seemed to be looking at nothing, thinking nothing, quietly lost in thought, like a realistic sculpture made of special silicone.

"If you don't say anything, I'm leaving," Fujiwara Izaya said.

“Uh, let me think…” Kasahara Fukari gently shook her head a few centimeters, turned to look at his face, and frowned in thought.

Her black, pearl-like eyes shimmered with a bright, satin-like luster, but just like the last time we met, her face was completely expressionless.

Fujiwara Izaya could only abandon his idea of ​​speaking first and quietly wait for what was to come.

After a long while, with thunder rumbling repeatedly, Kasahara Fukaeri finally held up her wine glass and said coldly, "You're not a good person."

“I never said I was a good person,” Fujiwara Izaya shrugged.

Kasahara Fukaeri fell silent again.

Her slightly heavier breathing seemed to come from the other end of the long corridor, with a strange echo. The content was indistinct, but it seemed that she was a little angry, which Fujiwara Rin could also tell.

So he quickly added, "I'm only a good person when I'm dealing with good people."

"Well……"

Kasahara Fukaeri's breathing calmed down.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

“A secluded town deep in the mountains of Nagano Prefecture.”

"your mother?"

"Xia Xilin".

“So,” Kasahara Fukari silently took a sip of pine nut sake, “why did you suddenly confess?”

Another clap of thunder sounded outside the window, still far away but gradually approaching. Fujiwara Izaya gave her a friendly smile as much as he could: "Since Ms. Kasahara came alone, I trust you won't tell anyone this secret."

Kasahara Fukaeri bent her legs, her slender hands clenched into fists and placed on her knees, her gaze fixed on Fujiwara Izaya's face, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She kept her lips tightly closed, and although they were very close, it felt as if they were staring at each other from two kilometers away.

This older sister is too aloof... Fujiwara Izaya secretly groaned in his heart.

Admittedly, she was tall and slender, with leg proportions even more perfect than Fujiwara Izaya's, and her almost fiery orange hair was certainly eye-catching. However, her expression lacked any warmth or life, like a sharp iceberg, making her seem dangerous and unfathomable.

Such a person should absolutely not become a magazine model, idol singer, or actor.

But it is precisely because of her mystery and inaccessibility that she possesses a natural charm that draws people closer to explore her.

Stared at like that, Fujiwara Izaya subconsciously straightened his back and sat up straight like a scolded child, while inwardly sighing how pitiful Asuka was, having to be oppressed by her older sister like that every day at home.

"By the way, how old are you again?" After a while, Kasahara Fukari asked softly, "Seventeen?"

“I’ll be eighteen in eight months,” Fujiwara Izaya replied.

Why did you come to Tokyo?

"Rebuilding Asakusa Shrine."

"Then?"

Fujiwara Izaya fell silent for a moment.

How should I put it?

He wasn't sure either.

Kasahara Fukaeri picked up her glass and drank the pine nut sake in it while waiting for a reply.

"Probably, I'll find someone to take over my job," Fujiwara Izaya replied. "Or, like my father, I'll have a son to inherit the shrine."

"Your father?" Kasahara Fukaeri asked, squinting.

“Yes,” Fujiwara Izaya replied, “a person who is gentle to the extreme.”

“This assessment is incredible,” Kasahara Fukaeri nodded. “I’d like to meet him.”

“You won’t see them for now,” Fujiwara Izaya shrugged. “My family isn’t around anymore. Maybe my mom will come over next year, but you won’t be able to find them the rest of the time.”

Kasahara Fukaeri pondered the meaning of his words, her brow furrowing beautifully once more.

A flash of lightning followed, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

After thinking for a while, she roughly came to a conclusion and stopped worrying about it, instead asking, "What are your intentions in approaching Asuka?"

“That’s ambiguous,” Fujiwara Izaya corrected her seriously. “It was Asuka who approached me, not me. Please don’t put the blame on me, and don’t try to use that as a reason to ask me for a refund.”

"...You really are..."

Even Kasahara Fukari, who had always been very calm, started to feel a headache coming on.

"Why didn't you just push her away?" she asked, suppressing the urge to smash the glass.

Yes.

why?

Fujiwara Izaya asked himself this question.

A lewd little bitch harasses her junior, smuggles her in stockings, has an energetic smile, a quirky personality, and the inherent spoiled air of a pampered young lady, completely oblivious to the plight of ordinary people… Thinking about all this, Fujiwara Izaya brushed his wet hair aside and sighed, “Japan is a feudal country disguised as a modern system. A doctor’s son becomes a doctor, a lawyer’s son becomes a lawyer, a banker’s daughter…”

"cough!"

Kasahara Fuka-Eri coughed lightly.

That indifferent expression seemed to say, "There's no need to say things that even children already know."

“The chairman’s daughter should naturally be the chairman as well.” Fujiwara Rinya insisted on finishing his sentence, picking up a piece of melon from the table and eating it as he spoke. “Asuka’s personality isn’t exactly bad, and she wouldn’t be a villain as chairman. But she has a big problem…”

The melon is very crisp; one bite and your mouth is filled with sweet juice.

"What's the problem?" The older sister's cold expression softened when she mentioned her younger sister.

“She doesn’t consider the feelings of ordinary people.” Fujiwara Rinya threw the melon rind into the trash can and said while wiping his mouth with a towel, “We hadn’t known each other for long when she was able to frame me with two pairs of stockings and bluntly said that if I didn’t do what she said, she would expose the fact that I was wearing stockings on my head. Later, when we were doing exorcisms together, we met a victim with a rather difficult background. From beginning to end, she always viewed the victim’s life from the perspective of someone who was born a human being.”

"Ah."

Kasahara Fukaeri nodded slightly in agreement.

“So, you have designs on Asuka,” she said. “Don’t deny it, I can tell. Otherwise, given your personality, you certainly wouldn’t have been framed and could still maintain a pleasant demeanor when facing her.”

"Haha, of course I have ulterior motives." Fujiwara Izaya picked up the pine nut wine and poured some into his glass. "She's just a spoiled young lady. She doesn't care what she does. It only affects the people around her anyway. But if she grows up and takes over her mother's job, then her every word and action will determine the fate of many, many people."

"Well."

Kasahara Fukaeri's answers are always so concise.

"So, we need to correct her while she's still young and still in the formative years." Fujiwara Izaya handed her the pine nut sake he had poured out.

She shook her head to indicate that she did not want to drink.

“After she corrects herself, she will consider the perspectives of more people when making decisions.” Fujiwara Izaya brought his glass to his lips and took a sip. “Especially those ordinary people whom she considers unimportant and can be ignored, but who in fact deserve more protection.”

Kasahara Fukari stared intently at his face, as if observing the drifting clouds in the sky. Then, her gaze lowered slightly to look at the wine glass she had just used, trying to discern whether the lip print on it overlapped with the angle of Fujiwara Izaya's lips as he drank. Finally, she turned her face away and softly said, "Thank you."

For some reason, Fujiwara Izaya felt that her "thank you" was unexpectedly gentle.

"No need for thanks," he said, flattered. "Now that everything is clear, you can't bring up the refund again."

"..." Kasahara Fukari wanted to stand up for a moment and deliver a flying kick, landing a solid kick on his face and sending this money-grubbing brat to another world.

Forget it.

I won't argue with him.

The older sister comforted herself, thinking that she could just consider the money as tuition fees for her younger sister.

After explaining his junior's question, Fujiwara Izaya lay back down in his chair and began humming a song contentedly.

Or live a straightforward life without overstepping boundaries.

To live correctly and without making mistakes

Is living a life based on facts the same as living a just life?

Is it just to make a living by deception?

What should my attitude be?