Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious

“God, that was a long night.”

Seijirou let out a heavy, bone-deep sigh and stretched his arms toward the brightening sky as he stood outside the towering gates of the Midorima Mansion.

The cool morning air felt fresh on his skin, a stark contrast to the thick, oppressive humidity of the mountain’s peak just hours ago.

His body felt lighter, yet the weight of the new “divinity” pulsing softly in his core was a constant, buzzing reminder that life would never be quite the same.

Yuko nodded alongside him, her face radiating a quiet, serene glow that transcended simple relief.

There was a newfound softness in her eyes as she stood close to him, a maternal smile gracing her lips while she gently and subconsciously rubbed her stomach.

The memory of the night—the scent of the futon and the whispered promise of a new life—seemed to have grounded her in a way the city never could.

Haruka stood a few paces back, her sharp eyes flicking between her mother and Seijirou.

She noticed the subtle change in their proximity, the way their auras seemed to hum in a shared rhythm, but ultimately she said nothing.

Her mother was an adult, and after more than ten years of sacrifice and lonely struggle, if she wanted to have a child with the man who had redefined their lives, then that was her choice to make.

Haruka respected that autonomy, even if it meant their family tree was about to get significantly more complicated.

“Kageyama boy, Haruka, Yuko… you three take care on the journey back.” Miyako smiled gently, her stoic facade softened by the morning light.

She looked at her daughter with a gaze that finally held no more shadows of the past.

“If you dare hurt them, or if I hear even a whisper of them crying because of you, I’d hunt you down myself, regardless of your family name,” Ryusui said, crossing his arms over his chest.

His voice was gruff, but the lethal edge was replaced by the protective bluster of a grandfather.

Seijirou just smiled, meeting the old man’s eyes with absolute confidence. “Don’t worry, gramps. I’d beat myself before you could even get your boots on if that really happened. They’re part of my world.”

“Hmph.” Ryusui snorted, seemingly satisfied by the answer.

But then, his expression turned solemn as he reached for the katana at his waist—the same ancestral blade Seijirou had used to deliver the final blow to the Great God’s corruption.

He held the sheathed weapon with both hands for a moment, a silent goodbye to a piece of history, and then tossed it toward Seijirou.

Seijirou caught the weapon with an instinctive, fluid motion before he stared at the scabbard, then back at the old man with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this for? This is your family’s legacy, isn’t it?”

Ryusui didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning the horizon where the sun was beginning to peek over the mountain. “Have you trained with swords before, boy?”

Seijirou nodded slowly. “I trained in kendo back in middle school and have kept up with some forms. Why?”

“Take it,” Ryusui commanded. “I believe that sword would be put to a greater use in your hands than on mine. It is a weapon meant for a protector, for someone who walks the line between the light and the dark. I am too old to follow its call anymore, and it responded to your Ki with a fervor I haven’t seen in fifty years.”

Seijirou stared down at the sword, and as his fingers gripped the hilt, it seemed to pulse with a warm, familiar vibration—the echo of Mayumi’s gentle voice.

He thought of her green hair and her blue eyes, and how this blade was forged from the earth she once ruled and strengthened by her blessings.

This sword wasn’t just steel; it was a fragment of the goddess herself.

“Thank you. I will treasure it. It won’t rust under my watch,” Seijirou said, his voice carrying the weight of a solemn oath.

Ryusui nodded, a small, begrudgingly proud smirk touching his lips. “You better be. If I see a single scratch on that tsuba that wasn’t earned in battle, I’m taking it back.”

Seijirou nodded solemnly, and at that moment, Yuko and Haruka went and hugged them, as if wanting to make up for the last ten years of not seeing each other.

After awhile, they broke the hug, smiling at eachother.

“Then, we’ll be off, gramps, granny. The city is calling us back…I guess.” Seijirou said, adjusting the sword at his side.

Yuko stepped forward and performed a deep, graceful bow toward her parents—a bow of reconciliation and love. “See you soon, mother, father. I’ll call you when I get home.”

“We’ll visit from time to time, grandmother, grandfather,” Haruka added, her voice soft but sincere.

With that, they turned their backs on the massive mansion and began the walk down the wide, dirt road toward the train station.

They waved their hands in farewell, three figures moving in unison through the golden morning mist, leaving the legend of the Mountain God behind them.

*

*

*

At this moment, miles away in the bustling city, Tachibana Rei let out a long, frustrated sigh as she finished tying her necktie.

She stood before her mirror, preparing to head to school, but her mind was anywhere but her studies.

She couldn’t help but think of Seijirou.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his smirk, his arrogant yet magnetic eyes, and the way he commanded the space around him.

But her thoughts inevitably spiraled toward the conversation she had with Touka late last night.

Quiet, introverted, shy Touka had actually lost her virginity!

She had done it with Seijirou!

“My god!” Rei whispered to her reflection, her face flushing at the memory of the phone call.

Out of the two of them, Rei had always arrogantly believed that she would be the one to lose her virginity first.

She was the bold one, the one who voiced her desires, so she didn’t expect Touka, the girl who used to hide behind her books, to actually be so daring and even beat her into it!

Last night, when Touka called, she hadn’t just told her about the details, but she had practically bragged about the experience, describing the heat, the intensity, and the way Seijirou had looked at her.

It had made Rei so incredibly frustrated and envious that she had just hung up the call in a fit of pique!

“Grrr,” Rei growled, grabbing her school bag.

She wanted to have Seijirou so bad it was starting to ache.

She wanted to be recognized by him, not just as a friend or a classmate, but as a woman.

She wanted to be held by him, to have him whisper sweet, possessive words into her ears, to have him lay beside her in the dark.

She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to lose herself in his overwhelming presence.

Her imagination, fueled by jealousy and suppressed longing, began to run wild.

She wanted him to take her until she was swollen, until the strength left her legs and she couldn’t even walk across the room.

She wanted him to claim her until her head hurt from the sheer sensory overload, until her cheeks were permanently stained red with the memory of him.

She wanted her neighbors to know his name because she couldn’t stop herself from screaming it.

She wanted to be driven to the point where her eyes rolled back in her head and stayed there, lost in a trance of pure pleasure.

She wanted her very throat to memorize every vein and every pulse of his body.

She wanted the doctors to think he had changed her very red blood cells to white with his essence.

She wanted them to create the next ocean with the depth of their passion.

She wanted him to rewrite her DNA until every cell in her body belonged to him.

She wanted to be so thoroughly his that her very holes would speak to him in Morse code.

You could put a nuclear device inside her and she’d still ride him through the explosion.

*Slap!*

Rei suddenly slapped both her cheeks with her palms, her face turning a shade of crimson that rivaled a ripe tomato.

She gasped for air, wondering what on earth those depraved, chaotic thoughts were! Where had that even come from?

“Damn it! I’m so frustrated I’m losing my mind!” she cursed under her breath, her heart racing.

She needed to see him. She needed to do something, anything, to bridge the gap.

At that moment, as she walked down from her family’s small, cramped apartment room toward the street, her eyes caught on something lying on the pavement near the entrance.

It was a simple necklace—a thin silver chain with a strange, dark violet stone set in a tarnished metal casing.

It looked old, almost ancient, and as the morning light hit the stone, it seemed to pulse with a dull, hypnotic rhythm.

Rei stopped. The necklace seemed to be calling out to her, a faint, psychic whisper echoing in the back of her mind, telling her that if she put it on, she would finally get what she wanted.

It told her she would be irresistible.

It told her that Seijirou would never be able to look away again.

At that moment, in a complete daze, her hand reached out, her fingers brushed against the cold metal, and without a second thought, she picked it up and began to fasten it around her neck.

She didn’t notice the way the air around her seemed to chill, or the faint, dark shadow that flickered behind her in the morning sun.

She only thought of Seijirou.