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Dimensional Watch DXD Chapter 37 Back Home
🕑 Added 2025-05-02 04:02:16 +0000 UTCKouh, Issei’s house, 1st of December, Monday (5 months before Canon)
From the street, the small two-story house looked like it had been hit by a moving truck. Cardboard boxes of all shapes and sizes were stacked in awkward towers across the lawn and near the porch. A few were marked with incomprehensible kanji, while others were scribbled with notes like “Matsu’s tech (DANGER),” “Uzume’s costumes (NO PEEKING),” and “Miya’s tea set (FRAGILE).”
The front door was slightly ajar, as if the house itself had given up trying to contain the mess within.
Issei Hyoudou sat in seiza—knees tucked under him on the floor, hands resting obediently on his thighs, back straight as a board. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His heart thudded like a war drum. Across from him, like stern judges at a war tribunal, stood Yuuka Hana and Tamamo-no-Mae. Neither were speaking yet, but their expressions said everything.
Tamamo’s golden eyes blazed with restrained fury, her arms folded tightly across her impressive chest. The usual warmth in her gaze was gone, replaced by divine wrath barely contained beneath the surface of her serene mask. Her tails twitched behind her waving through the air. Bringing the Sekirei’s attention as they have never seen a beastwoman.
Yuuka stood with one hand on her hip and the other clenched at her side. Her blue eyes were sharp. She wasn’t yelling—not yet—but she didn’t need to. Her silence was heavier than a thousand accusations.
Issei gulped. ‘This is it. This is how I die. Not in a grand battle. By my angry girlfriends in my living room.’
Behind him, the rest of the household added layers of awkwardness to the scene.
On the couch, Karasuba lounged, her sword resting against the armrest, eyes gleaming with interest. She was clearly enjoying the show. Her smirk widened every time Issei flinched under the intense dual glare.
Next to her, Matsu had pulled out a notebook, scribbling furiously. Her glasses glinted with glee, and she occasionally whispered to herself.
Uzume and Yashima were unpacking boxes by the kitchen door, pretending to mind their own business while sneaking glances toward the drama. Akitsu stood silently near the staircase, arms folded, her expression unreadable but her eyes flickering with worry toward her Ashikabi.
Miya sat at the dining table with a cup of green tea, prepared by Misuki, occasionally sipping the cup. Every now and then, she would glance toward Issei—not with judgment, but as if waiting to see whether he would survive.
And watching all of this from a safe corner were the real owners of the house—Gorou and Miki Hyoudou, Issei’s loving but often overwhelmed parents. They sat beside Misuki, who was quietly sipping the tea she made, while watching her daughter discipline her boyfriend.
Meanwhile, the smallest member of the family—Sakura—sat cross-legged near the table with a stuffed fox doll in her lap. Her wide eyes ping-ponged between the grown-ups, confused but oddly amused.
“Papa’s in trouble.” She whispered with a giggle.
Issei twitched.
Tamamo finally broke the silence. “Explain,” she said coolly, her voice like silk wrapped around steel. “And this time, do not try to dodge the question, darling.”
Yuuka’s eyes narrowed. “You left. Without warning. And came back with six girls, calling you their Ashikabi.”
“I didn’t mean to!” Issei blurted. “The Watch activated on its own and I couldn’t stop it!”
Tamamo arched a brow. “And then you just... accidentally kissed and bonded with them all?”
“Okay—that was also mostly accidental! The Sekirei have this... instinct thing that they couldn’t control to be kissed by the one they react to and I just happened to be one who causes that reaction!”
“That is indeed correct, Miss Tamamo.” Sherri speaks up in defense of her master. “With Miss Uzume, master, had just been teleported to their world, which happened to be from a very high place and accidentally bumped into her causing their lips to touch and activating the connection between them.”
“Hehehe! Back then I thought the worst. It was supposed to be a magical experience and I was kind of robbed of that moment.” Uzume says, scratching her head as the rest stare at her. “But now I'm so grateful as hubby turned out to be so kind and honest. My life has never been boring since that time.”
“After that both Miss Matsu and Miss Yashima forced a kiss with master, after contacting him, activating their instinct.”
Both girls were given glares by Yuuka and Tamamo, which Yashima tried to make herself small while Matsu simply shrugged.
“Sorry I couldn’t help myself. Issei just looked so dashing and handsome at that time that I couldn’t control myself.” Yashima speaks timidly and shyly, touching the point of her fingers together.
“Ehhh. You can't blame a girl for shooting her shot. I saw a chance and took it.” Matsu says not caring of the glares she got.
“And miss Karasuba forced the kiss as well, after a prolonged battle involving physical contact. Her instincts activated post-conflict.”
“You two fought?” Yuuka asks, confused.
“I was trying to kill him.” Karasuba says arrogantly. “Didn’t know the moment he punched me, I would react so strongly.”
“You tried to hurt my husband?” A fierce glare was sent to Karasuba and a dark aura surrounded Tamamo.
“Oh. If you want to fight me. I would gladly take your challenge.” Karasuba says, taking out her sword to strike.
The rest started to worry about what was about to happen and Miya was about to forcefully stop Karasuba from hurting the others.
But soon the intensity around Tamamo started to increase and a pressure started to surround everyone. Soon even Karasuba felt it and understood the foxgirl in front of her was not just a pretty face and sweat started to fall wondering if she could even fight her.
“That’s enough, Tamamo. Please, you're scaring everyone.” Issei says getting between the two trying to stop Tamamo.
Tamamo-no-Mae seeing that she was also affecting her husband plus the rest of the household started to control her power. “I’m sorry, darling…” she said softly, bowing her head. “I let my anger get the better of me.” She turned toward Issei’s parents, bowing again. “Mother-in-law… Father-in-law… I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Gorou, cracking his back, chuckled nervously. “No, no. I’m fine. First time I’ve felt anything like that, but… it’s good to know you're so protective of my son.”
Miki, holding her teacup with slightly trembling hands, offered a small smile. “That was… quite the experience. I may need sake after this.”
Tamamo looked guilty, bowing again. “Truly… my apologies.”
Yuuka crossed her arms. “Oi. Tamamo. You could’ve given me a warning. I was standing right next to you.”
Tamamo blinked—then let out a soft laugh, tension bleeding away. “You would’ve been fine. I knew you could handle it.”
Yuuka rolled her eyes but didn’t push further. Instead, she smirked. “Just don’t go creating holes in the house when we argue.”
Everyone made a sigh of relief as they could finally breathe again. Karasuba simply growled as she was quickly subdued and once again overpowered by a stronger opponent. The Sekirei girls now have a worried expression of the foxgirl as they wonder if she is stronger than Miya.
Yuuka then got back to folding her arms. “Is that all that happened between you and them? Just a kiss.”
Issei felt the weight of the question drop on him like a falling anvil. His mouth opened, then closed again. Sweat began to fall at his temples. “I-I mean… the kiss is all it takes to bond them to an Ashikabi, so that was the main thing and—”
(I wouldn’t say that.) Ddraigs voice came from a green glow from Issei’s left hand.
The booming, all-too-familiar voice echoed inside Issei’s mind, smug and utterly unhelpful.
Issei’s eyes widened in horror. “Ddraig!” He shouted aloud, visibly flinching. “Why?!”
Everyone turned to look at him. Again.
(What? I’m just trying to help. If they’re asking about your otherworldly relationships, they deserve the full truth. From what I observed, Partner also personally romanced the ice user and the ex-widow.)
Issei’s face turned a shade of red. “You’re making this worse!”
(Wouldn’t want them to think you were lying. Besides, based on what I’ve gathered, the Sekirei bond is essentially a marriage ceremony. So Partner basically got married. Multiple times, in fact.)
There was silence. Dead silence.
Then, a single voice broke through—flat, emotionless, and incredibly damning. “I think the ice user is me.” Akitsu said, raising her hand like a student answering a question in class.
Her tone was as calm as ever.
Issei audibly whimpered. “Akitsu, please don’t—”
“I accepted his affection. Even though I was disposable and broken.” She continued, hand still raised. “But still he gave me his warmth and his love and told me to stay by his side forever. It was very nice.”
Yuuka stared at her. Then turned her gaze—slowly—to Issei. Her eye twitched.
Before Issei could even try to explain, another voice chimed in.
“That would make me the ex-widow.” Miya said pleasantly, raising her own hand. “He was such a brute. Even though I was only a lonely hopeless poor woman. I could do nothing to stop him from forcing me to love him. Making him my new husband and me his loyal wife.”
Issei’s blood drained from his face.
Tamamo blinked once. Then twice. Then very slowly turned toward him.
“You what,” she said, her tone carefully even.
Miya smiled. “He was very gentle. Respectful. We shared long walks, deep conversations, and he held me during the night when my dreams stirred with sorrow.”
“You what?!” Yuuka shouted, her composure slipping.
“I—I mean, ” Issei stammered. “It just happened! We were in the same place for a whole month and she was mourning her husband and we—connected emotionally! It was platonic! At first!”
Tamamo’s eyes narrowed. “But then it became not platonic.”
Issei looked like he wanted to fold into himself. “I might have… maybe… slept beside her. But just—sleeping! I was trying to be comforting!”
“She always cooked for him.” Matsu added helpfully.
“Stop helping!” Issei cried.
“I-Issei-kun did not act improperly!” Yashima chimed trying to help her Ashikabi, her voice shaky but sincere. “He always kept your feelings in mind. Even when we... tried to push things.”
Uzume snorted. “Yeah, but not very hard. He’s weak to girls crying.”
“He’s also weak to us showing our boobs to him.” Matsu added with a smirk.
“Again Matsu, not helping!” Issei barked at them over his shoulder.
Karasuba chuckled. “Honestly, I think this is karma.”
Issei looked back up at the two angry women before him and lowered his head.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I love you both. That hasn’t changed. I just... I couldn’t stop them from bonding with me, and I didn’t want to hurt them either. They’ve been through so much. And I kept thinking about you two every day, I swear. I was going to explain before they came through the portal, but Karasuba—”
“Didn’t wait.” Miya finished for him calmly.
Karasuba shrugged unapologetically.
Silence returned to the room for several heartbeats.
Then, Sakura waddled over and hugged Issei from behind. “Don’t be mean to Papa.” She said, her small voice filled with quiet conviction. “He came back to us didn’t he?”
The tension cracked just a little.
Tamamo sighed and knelt beside her daughter, pulling her close. “We’re not mad at him, sweetie.” she whispered. “We’re just... worried. And a little hurt.”
Yuuka’s eyes softened slightly. “We waited. We thought he’d been taken from us. And now... all this.”
Issei lifted his head slowly, eyes filled with guilt. “I know. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”
Tamamo studied him for a moment longer. Then, with a sigh, she stood up and turned toward the couch.
“Well,” she said. “No use arguing in circles. Let’s eat. And later, we will talk. In detail.”
Yuuka nodded, though she gave Issei one final glare. “We’re not done.”
“Yes, ma’am...” Issei muttered, wilting slightly.
Karasuba stood and stretched. “Well. That was entertaining.”
Matsu nodded. “This was better than any of my shows.”
Miki leaned toward Gorou and whispered, “To think our son’s crazy dream came true.”
Gorou blinked. “I think he is in over his head.”
Misuki sipped her tea. “This is going to be a very interesting week.”
The tension in the Hyoudou living room had finally begun to fade—if only slightly—thanks in no small part to Sakura’s innocent intervention and Issei’s sheepish honesty. After a brief, awkward pause, Tamamo and Yuuka stepped back, still watching him like hawks but agreeing to save the rest of the grilling for later.
Issei, meanwhile, remained in seiza like a man awaiting his fate, until his mother clapped her hands and broke the silence.
“Well!” Miki Hyoudou chirped brightly, her eyes sparkling with maternal mischief. “Now that the storm has passed—at least a little—it’s time for proper introductions!”
“Oh no…” Issei muttered under his breath, already feeling his cheeks burn.
“You brought them here, Issei.” His father, Gorou, added with a wide grin. “It’s only polite for them to introduce themselves to the in-laws! Ha!”
The word in-laws struck Issei like a thunderbolt. “Dad! They're not—! I mean—not all of them—! I didn’t even—!”
“Oh please,” Miki said, waving off his protests. “If they didn’t count as wives, they wouldn’t be crawling all over you and calling you their ‘Ashikabi,’ would they?”
The Sekirei, amused and eager, began stepping forward one by one with various degrees of confidence and charm.
First was Uzume, bouncing forward with a wink and her usual sass.
“Name’s Uzume!” she announced, giving a jaunty salute. “I’m Sekirei Number 10. I’m capable of controlling cloths like silk, wool, cotton and hardening them to use as weapons and hubby’s first official cuddle buddy! Nice to meetcha, future in-laws~!”
“Ohhh my goodness!” Miki gushed, practically vibrating in her seat. “She’s adorable! Just look at her smile! So confident!”
“You must be the fun one.” Gorou said approvingly. “You have the energy of someone who knows how to keep a man on his toes.”
“I try.” Uzume replied with a playful wink, throwing Issei a sideways grin.
Issei blushed and looked away in embarrassment.
Next came Yashima, shy and sweet, clutching her hammer and glancing at everyone like a nervous rabbit.
“I—I’m Yashima,” she stammered. “Number 84. I, um... I help protect Issei-sama with my hammer which I can shrink and... I make good snacks!”
“Oh honey, you’re precious!” Miki nearly squealed. “Such a sweet little thing!”
“You remind me of a baby deer.” Misuki said gently, her eyes softening.
Yashima turned bright red and bowed deeply. “Th-Thank you for letting me stay!”
Akitsu followed next, silent and composed. Her white kimono barely concealing her breast and legs.
“I am Akitsu. Number 7. I use ice. I love my Ashikabi-sama.” Short and to the point.
Misuki tilted her head. “So stoic...”
“She’s the quiet but scary one,” Uzume muttered behind her hand.
“She’s like a Yuki-onna,” Miki whispered excitedly. “But cuter!”
Akitsu blinked slowly and looked at Issei. “Was that good?”
“You did great.” He said softly, giving her a reassuring nod.
Matsu strutted forward like a model on a runway, pushing her glasses up and smirking.
“Matsu here! Number 2 and proud! Resident genius, hacker, inventor, surveillance specialist, and scientific deviant extraordinaire!” She paused. “Also partial to snuggling.”
“That’s… a resume,” Gorou said, blinking.
“Hold up,” Misuki interrupted, eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Did you say ‘inventor’? What kind of inventor?”
Matsu grinned like a fox cornering prey. “Well~… I specialize in mechanical engineering and electronic systems. I’ve built prototype surveillance drones, hacked into satellite networks, and constructed a few ‘non-legal’ military-grade tools for fun.”
“...What year did you say you were all from again?” Misuki asked, her voice flat and deadly curious.
“2020,” Matsu said cheerfully. “Back where we came from.”
A strange light entered Misuki’s eyes. “And you can replicate those tools here?”
Matsu tapped her chin. “Given access to the right materials and power sources? Absolutely.”
“Interesting.” Misuki’s business sense activated. Her mind raced. ‘Technology a decade ahead of its time… personal defense drones… surveillance systems… I could make millions!’
Issei paled as he saw the wheels turning in her head.
“Miss?” Matsu asked playfully. “You look... excited.”
“I just had an idea,” Misuki said slowly, with a calculating grin. “I’ve been working on a business project for a while now. One that could really use advanced tech and very fashionable clothes.” She said the last part while looking at Uzume.
“Wait, what?” Issei blinked. “Fashion?”
At that moment, Uzume leaned in. “Oh yeah! I make clothes too. Not just cosplay stuff, either— performance outfits, ceremonial dresses, you name it. I design and stitch it all myself!”
“I KNEW IT!” Misuki clapped her hands. “The two of you! You’re perfect for the new store, I’ve been developing downtown!”
“Mother…” Yuuka said with growing horror.
“I’ve been looking for something to catch the attention of the consumer!” Misuki went on. “I can already see it! This is huge! Would you like to make some money to help poor Issei’s financial situation? This place is already crowded and wouldn’t you like to have your own home where you and Issei could spend the rest of your days.”
“I like the way you think, ma’am,” Matsu said, impressed.
“I can design a logo!” Uzume added, already bouncing with excitement.
“Anyway,” Miki chirped, grinning from ear to ear, “we still have a few more to go!”
“Next?” she sang.
Karasuba slowly stood, walking forward with an air of danger that made both Gorou and Miki stiffen. Her red eyes gleamed like a predator amused by prey.
“Karasuba. Number 4,” she said lazily. “I’m a swordswoman. I kill things for fun.”
Silence.
“I like her!” Gorou said suddenly.
“Dear, what?” Miki blinked.
“She’s honest!” He shrugged.
“I will protect Issei,” Karasuba added, voice low. “Unless he pisses me off.”
“Oh,” Miki said, smiling tightly. “So...a loyal executioner. Lovely.”
Karasuba smirked and walked back to the couch.
Finally, Miya stepped forward with the elegance of a noblewoman. She bowed low, hands folded neatly in front of her.
“I am Miya Asama. Former landlady of Izumo Inn. Widow of Takehito Asama. And now… a winged Sekirei of Issei Hyoudou.” Miya gave a closed-lipped smile that radiated calm, grace. “I do hope we can be friends.”
Sakura clapped happily. “Papa has so many pretty friends!”
Yuuka stood and pinched the bridge of her nose. “We’re never getting peace again, are we?”
Tamamo took a long, steady breath, then patted Yuuka’s shoulder. “Welcome to the rest of our lives.”
Tamamo and Yuuka soon turned their attention back to Issei, who had begun to feel far too relaxed for his current situation.
They stood in front of him again, arms crossed, expressions expectant.
Issei blinked, sweat forming again at the base of his neck. “Uhh… did I do something else?”
Tamamo’s golden eyes narrowed. “You left us.”
Yuuka nodded with equal intensity. “And you came back with more girls than ever. You’re not off the hook just because you explained it.”
“We haven’t forgotten.” Tamamo added sweetly. Dangerously sweet.
Issei gulped. ‘Of course not. That would’ve been too easy.’
He straightened his back and bowed deeply on his knees. “You’re both absolutely right. I messed up. I didn’t mean to, but I did. So I want to make it up to you properly.”
“Oh?” Yuuka raised an eyebrow.
Issei looked up with sincerity, cheeks slightly red but voice firm. “I’ll take each of you on a date. Just the two of us. None of my usual antics, no interruptions, no running off to another dimension. I promise.”
Tamamo blinked, her anger momentarily flickering.
Yuuka’s lips twitched despite herself. “A date, huh?”
Issei nodded. “A proper one. I want to give you both the time and attention you deserve.”
A long pause passed between the two women.
Then Tamamo suddenly beamed, her radiant smile warming the room like a flicker of sunlight. “Then I want a full day. Morning until night. No distractions.”
Yuuka smirked. “And I get the day after. Just the two of us.”
“Deal!” Issei said quickly, relief washing over him like cool water.
“I’m first!” Tamamo declared, hugging his arm possessively.
“I said the day after hers, not after this conversation.” Yuuka snapped, pulling him the other way.
Issei groaned as the tug-of-war resumed.
“Ah, young love,” Gorou chuckled from his seat, swirling his tea. “So full of chaos and low-level suffering.”
“Now that that’s settled.” Miki added, her voice carrying a hint of stress. “Where are all these girls supposed to sleep?”
The question hung in the air like a sword over Issei’s head.
Everyone turned to look around.
The living room alone had been nearly overtaken by boxes. “We’ve only got three rooms upstairs,” Miki continued. “One for Issei, one for us, and one for guests—usually.”
“And the food would run out.” Gorou added. “I doubt I have enough to pay for the week.”
Several of the Sekirei grimaced sympathetically with Matsu and Uzume more resolute to accept Misuki’s offer.
“We also brought quite a few… things,” Matsu admitted sheepishly, gesturing to an entire tower of gear and boxes labeled “Caution: May Spark.”
Issei rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I forgot how much stuff Matsu brought over.”
“Don’t worry.” All heads turned as Misuki, stepped forward with her businesswoman poise and steely gaze. “We have the two-story store I bought downtown. I haven’t finished renovating it yet, but it’s got open space, electricity, running water, and—most importantly—storage capacity.”
Miki’s eyes lit up. “Oh, thank goodness.”
Soon, the entire family mobilized.
—--------------
Boxes floated through the air—literally in some cases, thanks to Matsu’s hover lift prototype—as the Sekirei worked with synchronized chaos. Issei, helped carry everything he could: bags of clothing, bundles of wires, toolboxes, fabric rolls, plushies, and at one point, what looked suspiciously like a weaponized rice cooker.
Uzume skipped down the street with a stack of costume bags hanging from both arms. “Hey Issei! Think Kouh would like my clothes?” She asks, wondering if the clothes she made would sell.
“Your clothes are always amazing!” He said struggling to carry the items. “Are you thinking of accepting Misuki’s offer?”
“Kind of. Just don’t know if it will be any good.” Uzume responds with her doubts as she also carries her clothes.
“I don’t know much about fashion. But I know you’ll do great in anything because you are amazing.” Issei says with full confidence. Bringing a smile to Uzume in gratitude. .
Karasuba herself strolled casually, hands empty. “You look like you’re struggling, boy.”
“You could help!” Issei shouts.
“I could,” she said. “But watching you suffer is entertaining.”
—-----------------
Back at the house, once the chaos died down and the last box was delivered, Miki sighed in contentment. “Now that that’s done… time to make dinner. I’ll get started.”
She turned toward the kitchen—only to find Tamamo and Miya standing there already.
The air between them was heavy, filled with invisible sparks.
“I’ll help, Mother-in-law,” Tamamo said sweetly, stepping forward with her sleeves rolled up. “As Issei’s first wife, it’s only proper that I help prepare his and everybody else's food.”
Miya, smiling serenely, stood her ground. “That won’t be necessary. I’ve been preparing Issei’s meals for over a month. I’ve memorized his taste preferences, nutritional needs, and snacking patterns. As the experienced wife, I’ll handle it efficiently.”
Tamamo’s fox ears twitched under her veil of calm. “I don’t need a month to know what my darling likes. I’ve been with him far longer. And I take pride in his meals.”
Miya’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “And yet he still praised my food. He even said it reminded him of his childhood.”
“That was a fluke! He is very emotionally vulnerable!”
“Or perhaps... he simply enjoyed being cared for by someone who understood restraint.”
“Oh, it’s on.”
Miki blinked. “Should I…?”
Both women turned to her with unified smiles too bright to be trusted.
“Please take a break,” they said in perfect harmony.
“I—uh… okay,” Miki squeaked, backing out of the kitchen.
The moment she was gone, Tamamo and Miya squared off, shoulders rising.
Tamamo held a rice paddle like a weapon. “I’ll handle the rice. Don’t mess with it.”
Miya raised a frying pan. “Only if I get the meat. You would probably over-salt.”
“We’ll see who he praises more.”
“Indeed.”
From the living room, Issei watched with a horrified expression as faint flashes of divine energy and aura began to shimmer behind the kitchen curtain.
“…Should we stop them?” Yashima asked, clutching her plush that she was showing to Sakura.
“Nope,” Uzume said on the couch watching TV.
“Who’s gonna win?” Matsu asked, jotting down in a notepad.
Karasuba smirked. “We will. Either way, we eat.”
Issei sat back with a sigh, rubbing his face. ‘God help me if they both decide to feed me at the same time.’
From the kitchen came the sound of boiling water, clashing ladles, and Tamamo hissing, “Get your hand away from my soy sauce!”
“I just wanted to balance the flavor, dear~”
Dinner was going to be… interesting.
The scent of grilled salmon, pork and steamed rice began to fill the house like a divine perfume—though the tension behind the aromas was thick enough to be sliced with a butter knife.
From the kitchen came the rhythmic clattering of utensils, bursts of chopping, the gentle bubbling of boiling water… and every few minutes, sharp exchanges between Miya and Tamamo, spoken in dangerously polite tones.
“I believe the pickles should be served after the main course, not before.”
“Of course you would think that, but darling prefers them on the side.”
“He also enjoys soy-glazed eggplant, which you’ve clearly undercooked.”
“At least I don’t drown everything in miso!”
“Oh, is that a complaint, or an admission of insecurity?”
Issei stood frozen just outside the kitchen, peeking through with the same look one might give a ticking time bomb.
‘I really hope they don’t blow up the kitchen.’ he thought grimly.
Behind him, Uzume whistled low. “They’re really going at it.”
“It's like watching a showdown between two final bosses,” Matsu added, pushing her glasses up with fascination.
“They both care,” Yashima said softly. “Too much, maybe…”
Then, suddenly, silence from the kitchen.
A few moments later, the door slid open with a quiet ceremony. Miya stepped out, utterly composed, a tray in her hands adorned with bowls of perfectly portioned food—rice, grilled fish, simmered vegetables, tamagoyaki. The presentation was immaculate. Every item neatly arranged with practiced hands.
Right behind her, Tamamo followed, her own tray brimming with equal grace: seasoned pork cutlets, delicate sashimi rolls, fluffy rice adorned with pickled plum. Steam curled upward, dancing in the soft lighting of the dining room.
“Dinner is ready!” They said at once—again, in perfect sync.
Issei nearly flinched. ‘They're harmonizing now. That's a good sign.’
The family and Sekirei gathered at the dining table, squeezing into each other to fit. Sakura bounced in place at the end, while Gorou and Miki sat to one side, Misuki at the opposite.
“I’m impressed,” Misuki said, lifting a chopstick. “The smell alone is worth the threat of nuclear fallout.”
“Thank you.” Miya said with a bow.
“You’re welcome.” Tamamo added with a sweet smile—and then the two exchanged another sidelong glare.
Issei sat between them, feeling very much like a political hostage. Every time he reached for a dish, both women subtly nudged their respective plates closer.
“Try my tamagoyaki, dear,” Miya said, lifting a portion with practiced elegance.
“Oh, but he always loved my pork more,” Tamamo replied, offering a bite directly from her chopsticks.
Issei blinked, sweat trailing down his temple. “I… uh…”
“You mustn’t keep a lady waiting,” Miya said, voice soft but sharp.
“Which is why he’ll start with me,” Tamamo responded, practically glowing.
“Uhhh—thank you both—!” Issei blurted, grabbing a piece of tamagoyaki with shaky chopsticks and shoving it into his mouth like a man defusing a bomb and then grabbing the pork. “Mmmph. Tastes great! So good! Fantastic!”
Karasuba, eating on the couch, continued to watch Issei suffer. “Watching him squirm is oddly therapeutic.”
Matsu scribbled away, muttering to herself. “Heart rate spikes with every alternating feeding… Possible signs of early stress.”
Uzume leaned across the table. “Hey, I want to feed hubby too.”
Yashima turned bright red. “I-I’d rather not force anything…”
Even Sakura joined in, holding out a spoonful of her rice. “Here, Papa! Try mine too!”
Issei, choking slightly, raised his hand. “I-I’m full! Really! I think I’m—!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Miya said, placing another portion of grilled fish on his plate. “You’ve hardly eaten anything.”
“I insist,” Tamamo said, adding extra rice and topping it with sesame.
His plate was now a mountain. His soul was hanging by a thread.
Miki watched from the other side of the table with a hand on her cheek. “He’s living every man’s dream… and also his nightmare.”
Gorou laughed. “This is what you call peer pressure.”
Misuki sipped her wine. “At this rate, he’ll either die of happiness or choke on affection.”
And still, the food kept coming.
Issei stared at his plate in horror, now so full it looked like a small volcano of side dishes. 'I survived an interdimensional war… and this is how I go out? Buried alive by food?'
He was about to take another bite when Tamamo and Miya both leaned in from either side, faces far too close to his own.
“Which one do you like better?” they asked in unison.
Time froze.
All eyes locked onto him. Chopsticks hovered in midair. Even Karasuba paused.
Issei looked between them. Left to Tamamo’s glittering gold eyes. Right to Miya’s serene brown gaze. Both smiling. Both terrifying.
He swallowed hard.
“I… I love both,” he said, voice shaking. “E-equally. Because both of you… made it with love. And that’s what matters most, right?”
Silence.
Then Miya smiled and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. “Well said.”
Tamamo sighed, cheeks faintly red. “You idiot… but fine.”
The tension finally broke.
Uzume let out a dramatic breath. “Whew. He defused the cooking bomb.”
Yashima clapped softly. “Thank goodness…”
Matsu muttered, “Probability of kitchen explosion: 37% averted…”
Issei slumped forward onto the table, forehead pressing against the wood. “I just want to eat… not die…”
Sakura patted his arm lovingly. “Don’t worry, Papa. I’ll eat the rest if you can’t.”
Dinner resumed, the clatter of chopsticks, the soft murmurs of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter from Uzume or Sakura created a warm, homey atmosphere. Steam curled lazily from the food-laden table, and the delicious aroma of Tamamo’s pork and Miya’s grilled fish filled the air like an invisible blanket of comfort.
Issei leaned back slightly, grateful that his plate was finally being left alone. For now. ‘No more feeding wars, please… I can’t take another bite or I’ll explode.’
He looked around the room, eyes drifting over the many faces now surrounding him at the dinner table—Tamamo and Yuuka seated on either side, Sakura nestled beside Miki and happily nibbling on pickled vegetables, Miya sipping tea in serene silence, and the other Sekirei chatting quietly among themselves.
Then came the voice of his father, casual and curious. “So, son,” Gorou said, breaking the comfortable buzz of conversation. “Tell us—what was the new world like? You were in there for a whole month, right?”
All conversation paused. Issei froze mid-chew. Every pair of eyes suddenly turned to him.
“…Uh,” he mumbled after swallowing. “Well. It was… honestly, not that different from here.”
Miki tilted her head. “Really? You went to another dimension, and it was just… Earth again?”
Misuki raised a brow. “That seems suspiciously convenient.”
Even Yuuka frowned. “So it was just another Earth?”
Issei nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. It was Earth, but… in the year 2020. A bit more advanced than our time, but not like flying cars or laser cities or anything.”
Tamamo rested her cheek on her hand. “Guess things will stay the same in twelve years.”
Matsu, who had been quietly munching on a rice cracker while keeping detailed mental notes, suddenly perked up. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and turned to face the Hyoudou parents and Misuki like a professor preparing to unveil her lecture.
“Well, since our Ashikabi is too clueless to properly elaborate.” She said, shooting Issei a side glance. “Allow me to explain just how different 2020 was compared to your current time.”
“Hey, I’m not clueless!” Issei protested.
“Do you know what ‘VPN’ stands for?” Matsu shot back.
“…Okay.” Issei muttered.
Gorou chuckled. “Go on, Miss Matsu. I’d love to hear it.”
Misuki leaned in, already intrigued. “So would I.”
Miki blinked. “This ought to be good…”
Matsu beamed. “Where to begin? In 2020, nearly everyone will carry a device called a smartphone—imagine your home phone, camera, map, music player, notepad, calendar, weather report, and television all crammed into something that fits in your pocket.”
Miki’s eyes widened. “Seriously? All in one?”
“Absolutely,” Matsu said. “Most models had access to the global digital information network. And with that, people could instantly message each other across the globe, shop, bank, read news, stream films, play games—everything. It changed social behavior, marketing, even dating patterns.”
Misuki raised a hand. “Wait—are you saying people could do business from their phones?”
Matsu grinned. “Yes. Small businesses exploded thanks to mobile e-commerce. Oh! And did I mention the rise of ‘influencers’? People who make money by filming themselves dancing or applying makeup online?”
“…The future sounds horrifying.” Yuuka said softly.
“I find it fascinating,” Misuki mused, a hand on her chin. “I could use this to promote my fashion-tech business…”
Uzume leaned in with a grin. “You’d dominate. With your attitude? TikTok would’ve been yours.”
“Tik-what now?” Gorou asked, blinking.
“Don’t worry about it, Dad,” Issei sighed. “It’s… a thing.”
Matsu continued, her enthusiasm mounting. “Education shifted too. Digital learning became standard. AI software managed scheduling, homework, even simulated teachers. And yes, robotics advanced significantly. Service bots, automated transportation, smart homes.”
“You said smart homes?” Miki blinked. “As in… a house that thinks?”
“More like a house that listens, tracks your habits, and adjusts accordingly,” Matsu said. “Thermostats that adapt to your preferences. Fridges that tell you when you’re out of milk. Lights that respond to voice commands. We never lived in one personally mostly because Miya was too traditional.”
“I simply saw no point in having any of that in my inn. Your hidden cameras being everywhere was already too much.” Miya responds with a huff.
“Say the alien that came from a spaceship.” Matsu retorts.
Misuki leaned forward. “And you can build this?”
“With the right tools? Yes,” Matsu replied, chest puffed proudly. “With enough funding, I could recreate half of modern 2020 within the month.”
Issei frowned. “That sounds terrifying.”
“It sounds profitable,” Misuki corrected.
Even Yuuka looked intrigued. “And this world had none of the supernatural insanity we deal with here?”
“Oh, it had its own problems,” Matsu said. “Overpopulation, political tension, climate anxiety… but no dragons. At least not real ones.”
Tamamo smiled faintly. “That we know of.”
Gorou rubbed his chin. “You know, I thought the most advanced thing in our house was the microwave.”
“Darling, our microwave still has a dial,” Miki muttered.
Sakura held up her rice ball. “I want a house that sings!”
“You probably could make that happen,” Matsu said warmly. “They even had programmable talking speakers in 2020.”
“I want it to sing lullabies when I’m sleepy!”
“I can program that.” Matsu adjusted her glasses again. “Oh, and I haven’t even touched on entertainment! Games evolved, music became globally available, and movies were streamed to personal devices within months of release. And don’t get me started on virtual reality.”
Miki slowly turned to her son. “Issei… are you sure it was earth?”
He shrugged helplessly. “It looked like Earth! Just shinier.”
Misuki leaned back, her eyes gleaming. “All of this… and you brought back quite the treasure, Issei.”
“I brought back people,” Issei muttered, arms folded.
“And with those people, we’re going to reshape this town.” Misuki said with a dangerous grin.
“I just wanted to come home,” Issei sighed.
“Too late, darling,” Tamamo said, patting his arm. “You brought the future with you.”
He slumped. ‘Why do I feel like this is the beginning of a whole new headache…?’
—---------------------------------
Inside Issei's slightly cramped room, Issei sat at the edge of his small single bed, rubbing the back of his neck while Yuuka and Tamamo moved about the room.
Yuuka, now dressed in a light blue camisole and loose pajama pants, was checking the small drawer where she’d put some of Sakura’s things for safekeeping. Tamamo, wearing a more traditional silk nightgown adorned with faint sakura patterns, was brushing her long pink hair near the mirror. The faint floral scent of her shampoo drifted lazily through the room.
Issei sighed, staring down at his schoolbag. “Can’t believe I have to go back to class tomorrow,” He muttered, groaning.
Tamamo chuckled softly. “It’s your world, darling. Normalcy was bound to return eventually.”
“I just came back.” Issei grumbled. “And now I’m being punished with math homework?”
Yuuka smirked. “Life comes at you fast.”
He gave her a look, then slumped back on the bed, arms spread out like a lifeless starfish. “I missed my bed… but not this part of reality.”
Tamamo glanced at him through the mirror. “Still… I’m glad we’re all here. Together again.”
Yuuka’s gaze softened slightly. She stepped over and sat beside Issei, gently brushing a lock of hair away from his face.
“You’re not allowed to disappear on us again. Got it?”
He nodded quickly. “Loud and clear. But you know I really can’t control it.”
SLAM.
The bedroom door burst open.
“Issei!” Uzume’s voice rang out cheerfully as she barged in, holding a rolled-up futon over her shoulder.
Behind her followed Yashima, Akitsu, Matsu, Miya and even a drowsy-eyed Sakura, each carrying blankets, pillows, and more futons.
Tamamo blinked. Yuuka sat up straighter.
Issei, still sprawled on the bed, slowly raised his head. “Uhh. What’s up?”
“We’re here to sleep with you!” Uzume declared proudly.
“WHAT?” Yuuka barked, standing up.
“Not like that!” Yashima squeaked quickly, waving her arms in panic. “Just… sleeping! Like a sleepover!”
“Issei-sama has been with us since we met,” Akitsu said plainly. “We would miss his warmth if we don't sleep with him.”
“I have documented evidence that shared sleeping improves emotional bonding and harem cohesion,” Matsu added, holding up a small notepad with little hearts scribbled in the margins.
“And I want cuddles,” Sakura mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
Issei blinked in disbelief. “How did you even get past my mom?”
“Miki-san was thrilled,” Matsu said. “She gave us snacks.”
“Of course she did,” Yuuka muttered under her breath.
Tamamo folded her arms, one brow twitching. “While I understand the sentiment, this bed is clearly not large enough for all of us.”
Yuuka nodded, crossing her arms. “Exactly. The three of us already barely fit, and I’m not turning this into a sardine can.”
Uzume grinned. “It’s fine. We’ll sleep on the floor!”
The girls unfurled their futons in an almost militaristic display of speed and synchronization. Within seconds, the floor was covered in bedding, forming a cozy but crowded nest.
Tamamo and Yuuka stared at the blanket patchwork now dominating the entire room.
Issei opened his mouth to protest—only for Uzume and Yashima to grab him by both arms and yank him down from the bed.
“WAH—!” He landed on the futons with a soft whump.
“There. Now everyone fits!” Uzume chirped, immediately cuddling up to his right side.
“Excuse me?” Tamamo said dangerously.
Akitsu laid down on his left and calmly took his arm. “This is better.”
“Hold on—!” Yuuka tried to squeeze down next to him, only for Matsu to sneak in and plop a pillow over his stomach, laying across it like a cat.
“He makes an excellent mattress,” Matsu muttered, half-asleep.
Tamamo and Yuuka stood above them, twitching.
“No,” Yuuka growled. “Absolutely not. This was our night.”
“And now it’s ours too,” Uzume said, sticking her tongue out.
“We’ll be quiet,” Yashima offered nervously, trying to make peace.
“That’s not the issue!” Tamamo shot back, grabbing one of the discarded pillows like it was a weapon.
“If he’s going to be on the floor,” Yuuka said, eyes narrowing, “then we’re going to the floor too!”
She and Tamamo dropped down simultaneously on either side of the pile, forcing everyone to shift and wiggle to make room.
What followed was ten minutes of rearranging limbs, shifting pillows, small yelps, accidental elbow jabs, whispered complaints, someone stepping on Miya’s braid by accident (resulting in an icy death-glare), and Sakura climbing atop Issei like he was her personal plush bed.
Eventually, the chaos dulled into silence. A deep, warm silence broken only by the occasional soft breathing and the shuffle of a foot under a blanket.
Issei lay at the center of it all, surrounded on all sides. Someone’s knee rested against his stomach. An arm—probably Akitsu’s—was draped over his chest. Uzume was hugging his right arm like a body pillow, while Matsu’s face was smushed into his ribs. Tamamo had taken one of his hands and refused to let go, and Yuuka had hooked her ankle over his leg like a claim marker.
He stared at the ceiling, eyes wide.
‘How did this happen again…?’
“Too hot,” someone muttered sleepily.
“You’re the one who wanted to cuddle,” another mumbled.
“Don’t kick me…”
“Stop breathing on my neck…”
“Who stole my blanket?”
“Mmm… Issei…”
“…I think I’m dying,” He whispered aloud.
But none of them moved. Slowly, the warmth, the exhaustion, and the gentle comfort of having everyone close began to weigh on them.
Tamamo drifted off first, her hand still holding his. Yuuka followed soon after, her breathing even and calm. One by one, the rest fell into slumber—snuggled awkwardly, limbs tangled, but undeniably close.
Issei’s eyes finally fluttered shut, a small smile tugging at his lips.
‘This is insane… but maybe it’s okay.’
In that moment, surrounded by those he cared about most, the chaos didn’t feel so overwhelming anymore.
It felt like home.
Guys I learned to accept that these are getting longer. My personal hell, don’t expect quick updates. What do you think of Misuki’s idea for the store? Please comment and tell me if I made any mistakes.
Comments
RaT306478@
Honestly, when they mention TikTok I was like laughing at it because issei is from the past, and he doesn’t understand any of it and all that nonsense that we all been through
LANARIO, LANZ REUBEN CRUZ
Now I feel that store idea can be a whole separate story line by itself. But any ways, Great chapter
Charley
Awesome work! The store 8dea is great idea will make bank and shock the current era.
