Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious - Chapter 244 - 32

Chapter 244: Chapter 32

The morning sun was still low, casting long, sharp shadows across the platform of the Shinjuku terminal.

The air here was a chaotic blend of ozone from the tracks, burnt coffee from the kiosks, and the frantic energy of thousands of commuters.

But for Seijirou, Haruka, and Yuko, the world seemed to slow down as they stood apart from the rush, three figures waiting for a departure that felt more like a pilgrimage.

“The countryside, huh… It’s my first time out there,” Seijirou muttered, his voice barely audible over the distant rumble of an approaching express.

He adjusted the collar of his coat, his hazel eyes scanning the horizon where the steel of the city would eventually give way to green.

“Honestly, I’m quite excited. I’ve spent most of life in the cities, and I have no idea what I’ll experience there.”

“I’ve only been there once, myself,” Haruka added, her voice a calm anchor.

She was dressed in a simple, elegant traveling dress that made her look more like a young lady of status than a maid or an assistant.

Well, Seijirou never really required them to dress like maids unless it’s for fun.

She stood close to Seijirou, her eyes watchful, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. “That was when I was just one year old, and mother brought me there to meet my grandparents.”

Seijirou blinked. “You remember things when you were one?”

Haruka tilted her head, “Isn’t that natural?”

“…”

While the two were talking to each other, Yuko, meanwhile, was silent.

She clutched her handbag with white-knuckled intensity, her gaze fixed on the tips of her shoes.

The joyful humming she had displayed in the kitchen the night before had vanished, replaced by a visible, vibrating nervousness.

This would be the first time she will be returning to her hometown for years, and she was starting to get cold feet.

Seijirou noticed the tension radiating from her, so he stepped closer, placing a grounding hand on her shoulder.

“Yuko,” he said softly, wait for her to look up. “Breathe. It’s just meeting your parents, you don’t have to be nervous. No matter how much you have fought, the fact won’t change that you are their daughter. They probably already forgiven you, or maybe they don’t even blame you in the first place, after all, they did visit you a few times, right?”

Yuko looked up, her eyes shimmering with a mix of fear and gratitude as she took a deep, shuddering breath and managed a small, fragile smile. “Thank you, Seijirou-sama.”

“Anytime,” Seijirou replied firmly. “Whenever you feel nervous or uncomfortable, know that you can always rely on me.”

Haruka reached out, taking her mother’s hand and interlacing their fingers. “Seijirou-sama is right, Mother. So, you don’t have fo feel nervous at all.”

The atmosphere between the three softened, and the edges of Yuko’s anxiety smoothed over by the collective strength of her companions.

They stood in a small circle of shared resolve as the wind from the approaching train began to whip around them.

“You know,” Seijirou said, a touch of his usual wit returning to lighten the mood, “I’ve heard the air out there is so fresh it makes city people dizzy. If I pass out from an oxygen overdose, I expect you two to carry me the rest of the way.”

Yuko let out a genuine, airy laugh, the sound finally breaking the last of her stupor. “I think we can manage that, Seijirou-sama. Though I suspect Haruka would be the one doing the heavy lifting.”

“I would,” Haruka said, her face as stoic as ever. “It is my duty to always serve my master, after all.”

Just then, the train pulled into the station with a rhythmic, metallic hiss, and the three of them immediately moved toward the doors in perfect harmony.

*

*

*

A few hours later.

The train stopped at a station that had been a weathered wooden relic, and Seijirou and the pair of mother and daughter stepped out.

And right as they stepped away from the tracks, the landscape opened up into a breathtaking tapestry of emerald and gold.

“Let’s go, Seijirou-sama, Haruka. The town’s not too far from here.” Said Yuko as she led the way.

The two followed after her.

They walked along a wide, well-maintained dirt road that cut through the heart of the valley.

On either side, the rice fields stretched out in symmetrical perfection, transitioning into magnificent terraces that climbed the lower slopes of the mountains like a giant’s stairway.

Seijirou took a deep breath, the air tasting sharply of ozone, wet earth, and cedar.

“It’s different from the city,” he noted, his eyes scanning the horizon.

“Indeed, the air is much fresher, no?” Yuko smiled.

The three of them continued to walk for fifteen more minutes, and finally arrived at the town.

Seijirou blinked, “This place…is rather prosperous.

Yuko, who was in a daze staring at the town she grew up in, managed a nostalgic smile as she calmed herself from nervousness.

“This town has always been famous in this aera, Seijirou-sama. We are known for our hidden hot springs, and the minerals in the water are even said to cure almost any ailment, so it became a very popular tourist destination for the wealthy. That revenue kept the roads paved and the fields fertile.”

As they entered the town proper, the atmosphere changed, becoming more vibrant, almost electric, with banners being strung across the streets, and the scent of street food, grilled dango and roasted corn, wafted through the air.

“A festival?”

“Yes. The Harvest Festival is approaching,” Yuko explained, gesturing to the decorations. “It’s our biggest event of the year, dedicated to the God of Fertility and Harvest. People gather from all over the region to offer prayers for a bountiful year. They say that during the festival, the veil between our world and the divine is at its thinnest.”

She then pointed toward the mountain’s peak, where the dark eaves of the temple loomed over the town. “That temple is the heart of the town, but it is strictly taboo to enter. It remains closed and guarded all year, only opening its gates for the final night of the ritual.”

“A god that likes his privacy,” Seijirou muttered, his instincts giving a faint, uneasy tug at his consciousness.

Just then…

“Yuko? Is that… is that really you?”

Everyone turned and saw a tall, handsome man in a tailored charcoal suit approached them, his eyes wide with disbelief.

He looked to be around Yuko’s age, possessing the polished, confident air of someone used to being in charge.

“Toshi-kun?” Yuko gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

The man rushed forward, nearly grabbing her hands before catching himself. “It’s been more than ten years! We heard… well, we heard so many things after you left. But look at you! You haven’t aged a day.”

“Oh, thank you, Toshi-kun. You look dashing yourself.” Yuko then turned to Seijirou and Haruka, “Seijirou-sama, Haruka, this is Toshi. We were childhood friends… we even went to the same high school together before I moved to the city.”

“Greetings.” Toshi smiled at them, though his eyes looked unnatural as he stared at Haruka, “….They are?”

Yuko smiled, “Seijirou-sama is my employer, and Haruka here is my daughter, my pride and joy.”

“Daughter…” Toshi muttered, looking a bit downcast, but shook his head. “I’m glad you’re doing well. I was actually elected Mayor of this town three years ago. It’s a lot of work, especially with the festival crowds, but it’s my home.”

Seijirou leaned back, observing the exchange with a keen, clinical eye.

Je didn’t need his supernatural senses to see the way Toshi’s gaze lingered on Yuko—the soft, lingering look of a man who had never quite managed to close the book on a childhood crush.

His movements were a bit too eager, his posture a bit too stiffly formal.

“It’s good to see you’ve done well for yourself, Toshi-kun,” Yuko said kindly. “But we really must be going. My parents are expecting us for my father’s birthday.”

“Of course, of course,” Toshi said, though a flash of disappointment crossed his face. “If you need anything while you’re in town, anything at all, the Mayor’s office is always open for you, Yuko.”

As they walked away, Seijirou nudged Haruka. “The Mayor’s got it bad. I think he’d pave the roads in gold if your mother asked him to.”

Haruka let out a small nod. “Mother has always been oblivious to that kind of attention. It’s a recurring theme in her life.”

“I can see that,” Seijirou chuckled.

As they turned a corner onto a private, paved path lined with ancient stone lanterns, Seijirou’s footsteps slowed.

He had expected a traditional farmhouse, perhaps a large one. Instead, he found himself staring at a massive, sprawling Japanese mansion.

It was a masterpiece of Heian-period architecture, with dark timber frames, white plaster walls, and a multi-tiered roof of blue-grey tiles.

A pristine rock garden visible through the gate suggested a level of maintenance that required a full staff.

“Wow,” Seijirou whistled, looking at the high walls and the imposing gatehouse. “So you are rich-rich. Yuko-san, you never mentioned your family was basically the local royalty.”

Yuko looked at the massive doors with a complicated expression, a mix of pride and old, cold fear. “My family has been the keepers of the valley’s land for six generations, Seijirou-sama. To them, wealth was never about money; it was about the responsibility of the bloodline. That… is why they couldn’t forgive me for leaving.”

“Well,” Seijirou said, stepping forward and placing a hand on the heavy iron ring of the gate. “Let’s go meet them then. It’s been many years, I believe it’s time for you to get your closure. Both you and your parents.”

Yuko took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and nodded.

The gates began to creak open, revealing a courtyard that felt like a bridge to a different century.