Chapter 39:

She said speechlessly, "Don't dwell on this at a time like this."

His hand paused. A dark teardrop mole had appeared beneath his left eye, now floating slightly with his blinking.

At Naoko's urging, he stumbled into the bathroom and closed the glass door.

The cherry blossom-colored kimono in his hand exuded Naoko's delicate fragrance, a familiar scent from having just slept in her bed.

For some reason, he lifted the garment and sniffed it. But then he quickly came to his senses and tossed the kimono aside as if struck by an electric shock.

With the subtle creak of the garment falling to the ground, the teardrop mole beneath Naraku's eye vanished, and a wave of irritation at being held hostage by Naoko filled his eyes.

The vile demon spider living within him had actually lusted after an ordinary mortal. How disgusting!

As he showered, he stared down at his scarred body and his newly reattached leg.

Things had been going really badly lately.

Fortunately, he still had the Shikon Jewel.

While the Shikon Jewel possessed immense power, collecting its fragments was no simple task; reconstructing the complete jade would require at least a century.

And now, he had stumbled upon the legendary special-grade cursed item—Sukuna's finger.

For ordinary mortals, it was a dangerous bomb, but for a high-level demon like him, possessing it was a powerful asset.

After a quick shower, his gaze flicked to the cherry blossom-colored kimono in the corner and paused.

When he slipped back into his stained navy blue kimono and emerged from the bathroom, Naoko was still sitting on the sofa, watching some boring soap opera, looking completely defenseless.

With a scowl on his face, he limped forward.

It took Naraku about two minutes to gain control behind her. With that furry head facing away from him, it wouldn't take much effort for it to explode in his hand.

With that thought in mind, he raised his hand and gently placed it on top of her head.

The fur was fluffier than he'd imagined.

Naoko was just about to see the interesting part: the murderer was actually the protagonist's aunt's brother, willing to kill the protagonist's entire family for money...

At this terrifying moment, a hand suddenly rested on her head.

Before she could regain her composure, she leaped up like a startled rabbit, flipping the bowl of cherries in her hand over, spilling them all over him.

Naraku was caught off guard, and the force of the blow left a bruise on his pale chin.

"...Naraku? Are you okay?" she complained, realizing what she was doing. "Don't scare me at a time like this!"

Naraku's already gloomy expression darkened even further.

His desire to kill her was so intense that, were it not for the potential unrest, he would have used his magic to kill her without hesitation.

He clenched his teeth, the vein in his forehead twitching, but the next moment, something cold pressed against his lips.

He lowered his gaze to see Naoko, beaming, as she stuffed a tempting-looking cherry into his mouth.

"Does it hurt? I didn't mean to. It's all your fault for standing behind me for no apparent reason." She chuckled. "Don't stare at me like that. I told you I was just careless." He was

about

to curse, but as soon as he opened his mouth, she quickly stuffed the cherry in his mouth, leaving him in a dilemma, unable to eat or spit it out.

She smiled, "My neighbor, Mrs. Asano, sent it. It's sweet, isn't it?"

That foolish smile was so unpleasant.

Naraku turned around and walked back to his room without saying a word.

He'd kill it another day; he'd already missed his chance today.

Naoko was still behind him, pestering him, "Isn't it sweet? Want another one?"

Perhaps she would only find peace in death.

He lay back on the bed, eyes closed, resting.

The small house had only one bathroom, just off the bedroom, and he had to endure the noisy sound of Naoko's shower.

The old building, even the reinforced concrete used in the walls had been shoddily built, offering little in the way of soundproofing. He could even hear her humming.

The bathroom glass door was fogged up, and only a vague white outline could be seen. However, it was precisely because nothing could be seen clearly that it was particularly fascinating.

The demon spider in his body began to stir again. Naraku closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sticky sound of water in his ears.

Naoko didn't know what he was thinking.

Although she was a little too kind, fortunately she still had some sense of self-protection. She still had the pepper spray and dagger that Amemiya-kun gave her in high school in her pocket.

If this chuunibyou really didn't know what was good for him and dared to drag his lame leg to attack her, she would definitely show no mercy... definitely.

She was wearing a pair of pajamas that covered her tightly, and walked out of the bathroom while drying her hair.

Naraku's eyes swept over her, and Naoko realized that he had a teardrop mole under his left eye.

Didn't you notice it? I didn't think it was there before.

Only then did Naoko realize he wasn't even wearing the kimono she'd given him. "Your clothes are dirty, aren't they? You're lying on my bed like that—how slovenly!"

"Get out," he said, his eyes darting sideways at her, his words laced between his teeth.

Perhaps because she'd just showered, her exposed skin was a charming pale pink, her half-damp clothes clinging to her forearms, waist, and thighs.

How rude! No wonder he broke a leg.

She stomped out of the living room.

Naraku leaned against the headboard, the teardrop mole under his eye flickering. The fire burning him unbearably. When he lowered his head, he noticed two streaks of blood running down the front of his shirt.

He had a nosebleed.

No, it should be said that it was Onigumo who had the nosebleed.

His veins throbbed. It was better to kill this woman, making him so embarrassed.

Naoko rolled up her blanket and curled up on the sofa.

After a busy night, she was already tired and sleepy. As soon as she sat down on the sofa, she fell into a deep sleep.

Moonlight shone in through the balcony, illuminating the vague dark figure standing beside the sofa.

Naraku looked at her with his eyes downcast. She was sleeping defenselessly, her breathing shallow and long.

He couldn't help but reach out and pinch her neck.

The pulsating blood vessels under his hand felt warm and fresh. With just a little force, this neck would break and she would be dead.

...

Dinglingling -

the phone on the table rang. Naoko opened her eyes reluctantly and climbed up from the sofa.

Perhaps because she was not used to this sofa yet, her whole body was sore after sleeping, and even her neck felt a strange sharp pain.

Today was the weekend, and she'd gotten up early and taken the bus to the shopping street to buy some ingredients. She planned to bake some cookies and send one to her neighbor, Mrs. Asano.

After all, she couldn't afford something too expensive.

But when she got home, she realized she'd completely forgotten about the unexpected guest, so she went back and bought him some decent, cheap clothes.

Just before he starved to death, Naoko had urgently fed him a leftover sandwich—because it was cheap.

As for the leftover pig's trotter from last night, she planned to heat it up and serve it to him at lunchtime.

Naraku was incredulous when he received the new clothes, examining the fabric from top to bottom. "Are these clothes for me?" It

was a stroke of luck; Naoko had just happened to catch a sale at a big boxer and snagged a bunch of discounted men's boxers.

While the styles were old-fashioned—probably meant for middle-aged and elderly people—they were so affordable that she'd accidentally bought two more.

"You're welcome, you can wear them all. They're all brand new, I've checked them all."

He gritted his teeth: "You went out so early in the morning just to buy these useless things?"

"If you're not afraid of them getting smelly, it's okay if you don't change them."

"You..." His pupils shrank like a cat's, and his gaze on her seemed to be filled with ice.

He tightened and unclenched his grip on the old man's T-shirts and trousers, his gaze on the kimono becoming increasingly heavy. Finally, he turned around and limped towards the room.

Naoko's voice of warning came faintly from behind: "The panties are in the bag next to you~"

Naraku's face turned horrible: he was determined to kill her.

Thanks to his face and figure, he didn't look too strange even in old-fashioned clothes.

"It looks good." She circled around him, examining him from head to toe, earning him a cold glance.

While she was tinkering in the open kitchen, Naraku watched her from afar from the sofa. When he learned she was planning to give the baked cookies to her neighbors, he couldn't help but sneer, "

The foolishness of mortals is that they always do meaningless things for no reward. Maybe when you die, they'll quietly rejoice, and the hallway will suddenly be much quieter."

She

flattened and rounded the dough in her hands, treating it like the detestable second-generation rich kid in front of her.

"Humans do these things simply because they want to, without expecting anything in return. Just like when I rescued a lame, foul-mouthed person."

"Interesting twisted logic, that's your human sophistry," he sneered.

There was nothing much to say to a chuunibyou, so Naoko buried her time in baking the cookies, placing them in a beautiful little box and carefully wrapping them.

Before leaving, she warned, "Stay here, okay? Don't go out."

Asano's house was just around the corner, and Naoko, carrying a small gift box, knocked on the door.

Although they lived in the same neighborhood, the Asanos didn't appear to be poor, but it was unclear why they had chosen to stay here.

The room was quiet for a moment before the sound of the door lock being unlocked could be heard.

Asano Yuuki's face appeared behind the door. He hesitated for a moment before lowering the security chain and pulling open the outer iron gate.

Naoko hadn't spoken to him much, and for a moment she felt awkward. "This is a little gift from Mrs. Asano, a thank you. I baked these cookies. Please don't mind."

He pursed his thin, waxy lips and said softly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome,"

she said, holding out the cookies. Asano Yuuki lowered his eyes and took the small gift box with both hands.

Their fingertips accidentally touched, and he immediately took a trembling step back, his face flushing as if he had been electrocuted.

"Are you okay..." He barely finished his concerned question before the iron gate slammed shut before her eyes. "...Okay."

Asano Yuuki, clutching the box of milky-smelling cookies, leaned against the wall, panting.

When he regained consciousness and opened the iron gate to look out, Naoko was gone.

Of course Naoko returned to the rental house.

But as soon as she entered, she was stopped by Naraku who was waiting at the door, and he came up to her and sniffed. He picked up a small bottle of water used for cooling and sprayed it on her face twice.

"You smell so disgusting."

This was too much to bear.

She nodded with a smile, and then kicked his injured leg viciously: "Please be polite to me, don't be a freeloader, okay? Also, I take a shower on time every day!"

Naraku groaned in pain, and when he raised his eyes again, there was a hint of gloom in his eyes.

I shouldn't have been soft-hearted.

He threw a letter down and turned to walk towards the room.

"This is probably a letter from your lover, warning you that if you don't go home, you will die. I just came out to sign for you."

"Where am I from..." Seeing the sender's name, she paused, "...lover."

This was a letter from her childhood sweetheart who had changed his temperament. To be precise, it was written in blood.

Dark red characters meander across the white paper. If you look closely, you can still see the dripping residue from the pen tip.

It smells like blood, this madman.