Translator: Ren
Chapter 1
"Rou-kun, I love you!"
"I love you too, Ritsuka."
—To get straight to the point, we got married.
However, just stating that might sound as suspicious and nonsensical as receiving a random wedding card from a stranger, so it’s probably best to provide a brief explanation.
This was over ten years ago. Back then, I, Saigawa Rouji, known as "Feather Hunter," was involved with a girl who was also called "White Sorcerer"—now a dignified lady—Saigawa Ritsuka. After a series of twists and turns, we started dating, lived together, and eventually got married. (By the way, Saigawa is my family name.)
…That’s it for the explanation.
Sure, there were many things that happened ten years ago, but since then, it’s just been a typical story of how a couple came together.
At least now, Ritsuka and I are getting along quite well. Except for one thing.
"Just... don’t you think you don’t have to say 'I love you' every morning?"
"Huh? Why not?"
With a curious expression, Ritsuka placed a blue mug in front of me. Meanwhile, she held a pink mug in her hand. I had black coffee, and she had straight tea.
It was early in the morning, and we were sitting at the dining table having breakfast together.
"Well, it’s just a bit embarrassing, you know?"
"Eh, but there are a lot of things that can’t be conveyed without words, right? 'I love you' is one of those feelings that really needs to be... umm, what’s the word again? Made a big deal of...?"
"You mean 'taken seriously.'"
"Yes, that!"
Ritsuka pointed at me triumphantly. Even though she’s my wife, being pointed at like that makes me uncomfortable, so I reflexively recoiled. Ritsuka giggled at that.
"But you know, maybe we should try to be more like a couple of our age... like, with a mature vibe. You know, where we just look at each other and nod in response."
"I don’t want that! Rou-kun, you’d look like an old man!"
"Old man...!? I’m still 26!"
I almost shouted in protest. I had said something about being mature, but I didn’t want to be treated like an old man.
The truth was, I just found it a little embarrassing and wanted to change the subject. Ritsuka, after ten years, had become quite skilled at expressing affection, but I was still awkward about it.
However, as if she could see through my thoughts, Ritsuka popped a toast into her mouth, looked at me, and smiled again.
Her long silver hair had been cut to shoulder length now, and compared to back then, her face looked much more mature. She no longer had the tense, serious air she once had; now, she was much more natural. In fact, I thought she seemed a little more childish now than ten years ago, but that just made her even more beautiful and cute—my proud wife.
"Ah. Rou-kun, you have bedhead. You're still such a kid."
"...I’ll fix it later."
Our simple, happy days together usually start like this.
＊
Today, as always, the world is completely peaceful.
Therefore, we ordinary people simply live our daily lives. But, of course, that requires money.
If you’re single, it’s one thing, but a married life takes a lot more money than you might think.
So, for the sake of my wife and myself, I must work myself to the bone. As a mere corporate slave...
"Did you bring your lunch? Your handkerchief? Oh, don’t forget your commuter pass!"
"Am I some elementary school student going on a field trip...? I’m fine."
"But Rou-kun, you forget things all the time when you let your guard down. It’s the wife’s duty to remind you."
"I’m always grateful."
"Good. …Ah! That reminds me!"
As I was standing at the doorway, Ritsuka suddenly opened her eyes. Was there something else I needed to take with me?
While I was mentally going over the list again, Ritsuka turned toward me and stretched both arms out straight. She closed her eyes, puckered her lips, and said just one word, "Mwah!"
"A kiss to send you off!"
"Was that triggered by the reminder...?"
Before heading off to work, we exchange a hug and a kiss at the doorway—though I don’t really need to explain that.
It’s something we do every day before I leave for work, so it wasn’t something she needed to remind me of. Regardless, I wrapped my arms around Ritsuka and held her close. Soft and gentle.
More things have changed over the past ten years than stayed the same, but if I had to name one thing that hasn’t changed, it’d be Ritsuka’s height. I’ve grown a little taller, but Ritsuka hasn’t changed at all. She claims she’s grown "one millimeter," but it’s probably too small a change to notice, especially when you consider her posture.
Still holding her, I gently placed my lips on Ritsuka’s cheek.
On the other hand, Ritsuka seemed dissatisfied, staring at me with a sultry gaze before quickly pressing her lips to mine.
"Make sure you kiss me on the lips properly!"
"I told you before, if we do that first thing in the morning, it’ll be hard to make it through the night."
"Geez... well, whatever. Good luck at work! See you!"
"Yeah, you too, Ritsuka. I’m off."
We both work. However, Ritsuka mostly works from home, with most of her tasks being completed through telecommuting, so she rarely needs to go to the office. On the other hand, I have to go into the office every morning, so she sees me off like this.
With the smile of my beloved wife on my back, I stomped my leather shoes and opened the door to head out.
(Ugh… I really don’t want to go to work…)
I’d like to think that this feeling is common among almost all working adults, but fundamentally, work is painful.
(I just want to stay at home and be lovey-dovey with Ritsuka forever…)
So, I’ll confidently say that these thoughts are completely natural, expected, and inevitable.
Of course, living that way would lead to inevitable ruin—living as a "kept man" under Ritsuka—so it’s clearly an impossible choice. But thinking about it costs nothing.
Now, I take the train for my commute. According to the apartment I’m renting, it’s a 10-minute walk to the nearest station, meaning it actually takes me about 17 minutes on foot. There’s also a bicycle parking lot that’s slightly closer to the station, so I usually pass through there and head toward the ticket gate.
"Ah!"
(Hmm…?)
I heard a clattering sound and instinctively turned toward it. Apparently, a high school girl had knocked over some other bicycles when she stopped hers, and the domino effect had reached near me.
(That’s going to be a pain to fix…)
The bicycles continued to fall with a clatter. I stuck my right foot between two of the bikes, stopping the chain reaction. I called out to the high school girl.
"Are you okay? Want some help?"
"Huh? Huh?"
The high school girl looked at me in surprise. I couldn’t help but let out an "Ah" as I realized something.
(Damn it… I shouldn’t have casually spoken to a high school girl like that as a working adult…!?)
I swear, I have no interest in any woman other than Ritsuka, but that doesn’t matter to the other person. The word "incident" flashed through my mind as I glanced at the bewildered girl. Quickly, I pulled my foot out from between the bikes, countering the wave of bicycles that was coming toward me.
With a clattering sound, the bicycles, which had fallen over, started to upright themselves as if the sequence were reversed. Some of the bikes were tangled together, but I figured the girl who caused it would take care of the finer details.
"Sorry, I’ll leave the rest to you!"
I said that and quickly made my way toward the ticket gate. The high school girl, for some reason, was standing there in a daze.
(Today, the crowd is as huge as ever...)
Ritsuka and I live in a suburban area. Literally, most people who live here head to the city during the morning and return home in the evening to sleep. Naturally, only people with the same destination are around, so the station gets crowded during the morning and evening.
By the time I got to the platform, it was already packed. People often describe such a crowd as "like washing sweet potatoes," but from above, we office workers must look like a mass of black sweet potatoes.
When the train doors opened, I found myself packed in near the door. Office workers are like sweet potatoes—pressed together like sushi.
"Excuse me, please let me on!"
A new graduate-looking businessman rushed toward the door just as it was about to close. However, he probably wouldn't make it in time. Commuting during rush hour is a matter of personal responsibility. We office workers don’t have the luxury to worry about others’ commutes.
...But still, I managed to stretch out my arm and catch the closing door with my pinky finger.
With some force, I held the door open and prevented it from closing. It wouldn’t cause much delay, probably just a few seconds.
"Quick, get on!"
"S-Sorry, thank you...?"
I received a somewhat confused-sounding thank you just as the door made a hissing sound and closed.
(I feel some strange stares... Maybe that was a bother after all...)
People near the door were looking at me. It wasn’t just my imagination. If someone were loudly talking on the phone inside the train, everyone would probably give them the same kind of looks, so maybe that’s what I was feeling.
I felt a bit embarrassed and, to avoid further attention, decided to keep my head down and endure the ride as best I could.
＊
What exactly is the Holy Maiden of Wet Feathers? I don't know everything about her either.
It is said that she is not a human being. She has existed on this Earth since ancient times, embodying all manner of "miracles," something beyond human understanding. Her power is capable of controlling not only the lives of plants and animals but even the flow of time on this planet.
With her power, one could act as if they were a god.
However, the Holy Maiden belongs to no one. To possess her, one must fulfill "certain conditions."
The condition is to possess as much of the Holy Maiden's residual power—the Fallen Feathers—as possible.
Only then, when you have gathered enough, will the Holy Maiden eventually reappear to reclaim her power.
The Shishima Organization was an entity composed of individuals who each had their own "wish" in relation to the Holy Maiden.
Of course, I, too, had my own wish for the Holy Maiden.
All of this is in the past, however, because the Shishima Organization has long since been disbanded.
The reason is simple: the complete disappearance of the Holy Maiden of Wet Feathers led to the loss of the organization's purpose. When a group connected only by personal desires loses its foundation, there is no longer any reason for it to continue.
The reasons I fought, the reasons I wished, and the reasons I lived—everything...
"Saigawa. The proposal you submitted earlier has been completely rejected. Revise it."
"Huh?"
"It doesn't meet the client's needs. Look at the market research data carefully. Are you a new graduate or what?"
"Seriously... I'm sorry."
—That said, my life continues. There is a different kind of struggle that I face now, unrelated to the past.
As the most prominent example, right after the morning meeting, I was called over by the department head and reprimanded.
"You really lack something. The sense of childlike wonder."
"I'm 26 now, though..."
"Don't make excuses. You should know what kind of company this is by now."
"I understand..."
I work for Handa Manufacturing Co., Ltd.—a company that makes toys, as you might expect from the cute-sounding name. We produce and sell "toys." The company has about 150 employees.
The middle-aged man who was lightly scolding me is my department head.
"Or do you want to go back to being the 'Feather Hunter' and take on some menial tasks?"
"Wait... please don't call me that! What if someone overhears?!"
This man was my superior in the Shishima Organization and also handled communications. He is one of the few people who knows about my past, and in many ways, he's been a benefactor to me.
Back then, I was a bratty, arrogant kid who didn’t care about rank, so I never even used respectful language with him... but still.
"Don’t worry. No one’s listening. Well, just do your job properly. Normally."
"Yes, sir. I’ll do my best..."
I replied weakly, gave a small bow, and returned to my seat.
Although the relationship between superior and subordinate had shifted slightly, I still had some contact with members of the Organization like the department head. It’s only natural—everyone who was part of that group had their own life to live. Just because the Organization was gone doesn’t mean everything is reset.
(Well... I never imagined I’d end up in this kind of relationship with him.)
I got a job at Handa Manufacturing as a result of a somewhat casual job search during university, never knowing the department head worked here. So, I was surprised when we ran into each other again.
(But I can't afford to get lost in thought right now. I need to revise the proposal...)
I opened the company-issued laptop and let my mind fill with the haze of work. As long as it was clouded with that, I could at least function as a passable salaryman.
"Senpaaai—"
"What can I do for you? Ikoma-san?"
"Whoa!"
Hearing a voice behind me, I spun around immediately.
The speaker was Ikoma-san, a younger colleague from my department. She was a petite second-year employee, still young but sharp, quick-thinking, creative, and bold. She was a promising talent, to say the least.
"I was trying to sneak up and surprise you… But wow, you’re as sharp as ever, like some kind of animal, Senpai."
"Humans are animals too, you know. So, what’s up? Got a question?"
"Nope! I made coffee, so here you go!"
Ikoma-san placed one of the two cups she was holding in front of me.
"Oh, thoughtful as always. Thanks. But… not as thoughtful as my wife!"
"Is this yome-harassment?"
"What kind of made-up term is that…?"
"Exactly what it sounds like—using your wife to harass your subordinates. I get it; you’re living your happily married life. But sharing your happiness with us singles is pure poison!"
Ikoma-san pouted as she voiced her complaint, while I took a sip of the coffee she’d brought. She had a knack for getting along with everyone, and she was comfortable enough to exchange playful banter with me like this.
"I won’t deny being happy, but next month is already our first wedding anniversary. Besides, Ikoma-san, you’re only 21. At that age, it’s normal to still be single."
Ikoma-san had graduated from a junior college, whereas when I was her age, I was still in university, far from thinking about marriage. Just by being part of the workforce now, she was already miles ahead of where I’d been.
"True! Someday, I’ll be as happy as you, Senpai. Speaking of which, there’s a part of the proposal I’m stuck on…"
"Sure. Can you print it out and bring it over?"
"Got it!"
I watched as Ikoma-san returned to her desk and began working on her computer.
I had my own tasks to handle, but helping a junior colleague is part of the job too—or so the department head had taught me in the past. I’d decided to stick to that principle.
Ikoma-san and I worked in the Product Planning and Development Division. Our job was essentially to brainstorm ideas for toys our company could produce and bring them to life. However, the actual manufacturing was handled by another team, so our primary focus was on the planning stage.
That said, our company was a small-scale operation. Unlike the big-name toy makers that churned out their own products and dominated the market, our original products played a secondary role. Our main business was taking orders from those big companies and producing toys according to their specifications.
In that sense, my division wasn’t exactly the company’s star department.
"Alright… Let’s get to it."
I took another sip of coffee and stretched.
It wasn’t so much about delivering stellar results—I just wanted to finish the day and go home as quickly as possible.
＊
"What should I do if a second-year colleague is clearly more talented than me???"
"First, just… be jealous!"
"That’s taking it to a whole new level of pettiness…"
After a bit of overtime, I came home and had dinner with Ritsuka.
When it came to preparing meals, I preferred to share the responsibility with her as much as possible, but since our schedules never quite matched up, I often left it to Ritsuka. So, I savored her home-cooked meal, while also venting my complaints as I ate.
"Sounds like your junior is pretty impressive."
"Well… yeah. She’s pretty reliable. Maybe it’s just how young people are these days…"
"Heh. Rou-kun, you’re an old man."
"Not even ‘like an old man’ anymore, huh…"
Maybe I’d aged a little since this morning. Ritsuka smiled as she nibbled on some homemade pickles, watching me.
My second-year colleague, Ikoma—she’d shown me her proposal, and honestly, there wasn’t much to criticize. At least not from my perspective. But from Ikoma-sam’s, it wasn’t quite good enough, and in the end, my lack of ability had been exposed. The only thing I’d contributed was bringing it to the department head’s attention.
"Ugh, what if behind my back they’re saying, 'Saigawa-senpai is so useless at his job, lol'…"
"Then, just… defend yourself!"
"That’d just make things worse…"
"It’s okay. Rou-kun, you’re great at explaining things. You’ll have a good defense!"
"Are we assuming I’m already being talked about behind my back? You’re sure about that?"
"I was joking. But, there’s no point in worrying about it. Rou-kun, you’re doing your best at work, and no one would say things like that about you, I’m sure."
"I’ll choose to believe that…"
Ikoma-san definitely didn’t seem like the type to talk behind someone’s back.
"If you keep eating dinner with that gloomy face, it’s not going to taste good, you know? Here, ahh~"
"Hmm."
Ritsuka, sitting across from me, cut a small piece of simmered mackerel with her chopsticks and brought it to my mouth. I had no reason to refuse, so I ate it. The flesh fell apart in my mouth, and the sweet and savory flavors spread.
"Is it good?"
"Yeah. It’s way better than when I make it myself. It’s like you used some kind of magical seasoning."
"Heh heh heh… I secretly sprinkled it with something, you know, powder."
"Well, now the compliment has turned into an admission of the truth…"
If Ritsuka had managed to sprinkle some mysterious powder on my food without me noticing right in front of me, then she might have stopped time. It didn’t seem impossible for her, but I figured it was just part of the joke.
"By the way, Rou-kun. You haven’t been standing out much today, huh?"
"Of course not. Were you okay though, Ritsuka?"
"Yeah. I haven’t been outside today except for shopping."
Every married couple has certain rules and routines they follow. For us, a kiss before leaving the house is one of them, but there’s another daily check we do with each other.
"Right now, we’re just ordinary people. I think we’re fine as long as we’re living 'normally.'"
"Yeah, exactly. Everyone’s worrying too much."
This was our mutual check of "Did we stay under the radar today?"
It was probably not a common thing. I couldn’t imagine any other couple doing something like this.
I had spent countless hours in combat training, learning to wield various weapons, and engaging in numerous battles. Ritsuka, on the other hand, had faced off against such experts many times and still retained her abnormal ability, "Blessing."
—We were not ordinary humans.
"I'm just a regular corporate slave now. I’ve probably bowed my head in apology more times than I’ve avoided attacks."
"Sorry, I should’ve aimed for your head more."
"Is that really the issue…?!"
To the public, the existence of the "Holy Maiden of Wet Feathers" was a secret. In fact, both the "Shishima Organization" and "The Group" kept their existence entirely hidden. Abilities like "Blessing" were considered nothing more than fantasy, things seen only in comics or anime, in the eyes of ordinary people.
In short, our pasts could only be seen as poorly written fictional stories in this modern world, yet, despite that, we still possessed powers that were far beyond the norm, having experienced those events.
"--There's no way we'd cause any trouble."
"You're right. It's more likely that our neighbor will suddenly be arrested."
"Our neighbor, Kameoka-san, is a good person!"
"That's just an analogy.”
If I were living alone, it might not be as big of a deal, but having Ritsuka and me, with our unusual abilities, living together, it was only natural for people to worry about us.
Lately, the department head had been frequently lecturing me. "Don’t do anything weird," he’d say.
...Well, I’m 26 now. I’m not so immature that I’d recklessly flaunt my power, and I have no ambitions to use it to accomplish anything big.
I just want to live peacefully with Ritsuka—together until one of us dies first.
"Every day is happiness for me, being with Ritsuka."
"Oh, then can you clean the bathroom while you're at it? I want to watch something on TV…"
"Hey."
Doing the dishes is the responsibility of the one who didn’t cook, and cleaning the bathroom is a rotating duty between us. Today was Ritsuka’s turn, but I ended up being used as the excuse for her playful remarks.
"Tch... I guess I’ll do it."
"Rou-kun, you're so kind~. I love you, muah♡"
"I don’t need that convenient kind of love."
But, since Ritsuka blowing a kiss was so cute, I let it slide.
In the end, no matter how much people worry about us, we’re just us. We live our lives as carefully as we can every day. I don’t think we’re causing any problems, and in reality, we’re not. Ritsuka and I are now just like any other happily married couple.
That being said, there is one major issue between Ritsuka and me—one that I’d like to introduce.
For me, it’s a much bigger concern than social reputation.
"Well then, good night, Rou-kun. See you tomorrow!"
She smiled brightly, gave a small wave, and disappeared into her room.
Her room... Ritsuka’s room. Not our shared bedroom.
I have my own room, and Ritsuka has hers. But we don’t have a shared bed.
(Again today...)
I let out a sigh that no one could hear. I don’t drink, so I drank water from the purifier.
(Hey, Ritsuka... your husband is still...)
I lightly washed the glass, dried it with paper towels, and put it back in the cupboard.
(He’s still a virgin...)
And I buried my head in my hands over that fact.
A virgin. What does that even mean? Well, it means a man who hasn’t done it yet.
I’m a virgin. I’ve never slept with a woman. But that’s one of those things where people’s values differ. Some men find value in sleeping with many women, while others just aren’t very interested in that kind of thing. More than anything, I don’t think being a virgin is something to be ashamed of.
If I thought it was something to be ashamed of, I’d have done something to lose my virginity by now.
But that’s not the case. I’m fine being a virgin if it means I don’t have to sleep with some random woman. Yes, I’m content to remain a virgin as long as it’s Ritsuka. The person I want to remain pure for (?), the one I’ll be with for the rest of my life, is Ritsuka. Only Ritsuka. I want only Ritsuka.
However... however, even so...!
"I don’t want to live together unless the bedrooms are separate♡"
—She said that to me with a smile, back in the past.
From the beginning of our relationship, even though we’d kissed, there had been nothing more than that. Maybe it wasn’t my body, but somewhere in Ritsuka’s heart, there was a soft, delicate part that my hands had never touched.
I expressed it poetically, but to put it simply, the time I once let myself go and groped Ritsuka’s body with all my strength, I ended up with a bitter memory of being punched in the face. Ritsuka is incredibly strong, and if I were an average person, my neck would’ve been twisted and I’d probably be dead. But since I’m trained, I survived. I did bleed, though.
(What’s wrong with me... is it my face? My body? My personality? My income?)
Ritsuka’s feelings for me are genuine. Even so, there’s a reason she won’t cross the line, and I’m still not sure what that reason is, but I must be the cause... somehow.
The fact that she insisted on having separate rooms means I’ve never actually slept with Ritsuka. I once asked her, without any ulterior motives, "Let’s sleep together♡," but the look she gave me, as if she’d seen a cockroach crawling out of the kitchen corner, was so disgusted that I swore to myself I’d never say that again.
But I haven’t given up. How could I give up on the person I love?
(—Next month, next month. I’ll make my move next month.)
I flipped through the wall calendar and looked at a specific date the following month.
November 12th. Our wedding anniversary.
That day, which also marks our one-year anniversary, I’ve been steadily preparing for something.
(At the very least... I just want to know the reason...!!)
I don’t expect to jump straight into anything. I’d be happy if we could take it slow. I just want to know why she rejects me. If Ritsuka has decided that she’ll never allow anyone to touch her body in her lifetime, then that’s fine by me. If it means not hurting Ritsuka, I’ll remain a virgin for the rest of my life.
I just—want to understand everything about the person I love.
My story, which ended ten years ago, will begin to move again on October 12th, ten years later.
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