I have an unlimited number of shikigami

Fujiwara Izaya turned around and saw Yukino Riho struggling to sit up in the warm light. She rubbed her eyes groggily, then sniffed and looked towards the stairs.

A rather indifferent exchange of glances.

In the dim afternoon light, Yukino Riho's eyes seemed to glow, carrying a hint of languor: "Uh... Fujiwara..."

Like a little girl's murmur...

She seems to have gotten even dumber.

Her expression seemed slightly confused, but her voice, soft and gentle, carrying a heartwarming warmth, called out "Fujiwara." A moment later, Yukino Riho shook her head, and after regaining her senses, looked at him somewhat embarrassedly: "You were a little sleepy after you left... so you were almost asleep."

"I'm coming back to change my clothes. I'm going to Tokyo Daijingu Shrine later," Fujiwara Izaya said.

"Uh, okay." Yukino Riho shook her messy long hair, then placed her hands on the table, looking a little unsure of what to do, and smiled sheepishly. After a while, once Fujiwara Izaya had changed his clothes and left, she finally breathed a sigh of relief, looking utterly embarrassed.

We left the bakery.

Fujiwara Izaya was a little hungry, so he found a ramen stall in the shopping street in front of Senso-ji Temple.

The noodles were chewy, and the soup was good too.

After finishing my meal, I bought a newspaper and read it for a while in the car.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, we arrived at Tokyo Daijingu Shrine and were led to the backyard by the servants.

In areas not open to tourists, people were admiring the flowers.

Hydrangeas, camellias, and mulberry vines; yellow roses and marigolds; pink peonies, four-colored peonies, and gardenias and lilies that are even purer white.

Mrs. Kasahara, dressed in a white kimono with simple floral patterns and a black outer jacket, stood on the eaves in the drizzling rain, seemingly waiting for someone.

The rain started in the morning. Looking up from the eaves, the dim sunlight barely pierced through the dark clouds, falling weakly into the air like powder, making the courtyard appear even more gloomy.

After the crape myrtle next to the stone basin was cut down, the weeds among the few stones in the dry landscape garden grew quite rampant.

A short while later, light footsteps came from behind.

Mrs. Kasahara did not turn around, but said softly, "I haven't taken care of these flowers for more than a month, and they are about to be overwhelmed by weeds."

“Mother won’t let the servants help.” Kasahara Fukaeri took a few steps forward and stopped a little distance behind her mother, also looking at the garden overgrown with weeds.

"What's the point of having servants take care of your own flowers?" Mrs. Kasahara smiled and turned her head, her gaze lingering on her eldest daughter.

She was wearing a red kimono, her hair loose over her shoulders.

Her noble and aloof appearance shone even brighter in the dimly lit space.

"That's wonderful!" Mrs. Kasahara smiled happily, casually picked a white hollyhock that had peeked out from under the eaves, and went behind her daughter. "But why don't you comb your hair? It's not appropriate to entertain guests like that."

“What kind of guest is he?” Kasahara Fukari retorted emotionlessly.

Mrs. Kasahara was used to this. She gently combed her daughter's hair, tied it into a bun with a rubber band, and then inserted a white hollyhock into the bun. The flower stems touched the hair, making a rustling sound.

First, tie your hair up, then insert white flowers horizontally and vertically.

It looked like she was practicing flower arranging. After placing two or three flowers, Mrs. Kasahara stood up and examined them from a distance. Her bright orange hair paired with the pure white flowers was quite beautiful.

"Alright." Mrs. Kasahara clapped her hands triumphantly.

Kasahara Fukaeri shook her head from side to side, asking her mother to appreciate it from different angles again.

Her fair and slender neck, graceful figure, and beautiful legs made you want to hold her in your arms forever.

"Such a beautiful daughter, I really don't want her to end up with someone else." Mrs. Kasahara hugged her daughter from behind, resting her chin comfortably on her shoulder, her fingertips gently touching her cheek. "Hey, tell your mother, how did that Fujiwara boy manage to trick you away?"

"Not yet," Kasahara Fukaeri replied.

There was no hesitation or shyness in those words, which greatly disappointed the mother.

The wind blew rain into the eaves, and a few withered leaves fell to the floor, giving a sense of autumn.

Kasahara Fukaeri was always silent, but Mrs. Kasahara hugged her from behind, rubbing her chin against her shoulder, and asked with a hint of gossip, "Did he tell you everything?"

“Hmm…” Kasahara Fukari lowered her head.

She only showed such vulnerability in front of her mother.

The gentle caresses from behind made her feel somewhat wronged and pathetic. But she also knew that even if she pretended to be cold and aloof in front of strangers, it was only a forced act, and she could never maintain that in front of her family.

Mrs. Kasahara fully utilized her imagination.

In her eyes, her eldest daughter, with her head bowed, was clearly troubled. From the moment she boarded the yacht until now, although she had tried her best to appear nonchalant, a strong struggle was brewing within her. This silent struggle was more painful than any harsh reprimand. She was obediently embraced by her mother, yet she seemed restless, her fingers clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

"You're too easily taken advantage of," Mrs. Kasahara said, chuckling as she rubbed her daughter's cheek. "That scoundrel only told you his secrets because he knew you wouldn't tell, hoping to show us his sincerity. What a cunning person! You've suffered the pain of keeping secrets from us."

“It’s okay…” Kasahara Fukari shook her head slightly.

"Are you still lying?" Mrs. Kasahara sighed, almost laughing.

Kasahara Fukaeri was at a loss.

In front of her mother, she had no choice but to remain silent.

Mrs. Kasahara didn't mind this silent kindness; she simply hugged her gently. "Alright. Mother knows. What grievances have you suffered? I'll get my revenge on him for you, and I'll make him pay double, okay?"

"Huh?" Kasahara Fukari was somewhat surprised.

"Don't worry, I won't make things difficult for you." Mrs. Kasahara's lips curled into a dangerous smile. "As a mother, I can't stand seeing my daughter being bullied. Whether you love him or not, I'll help you tease him a little, okay?"

Kasahara Fukaeri looked a little timid, like a primary school student being asked a difficult math problem.

Her mother's words sounded to her as a question: "Is it love... or not?"

However, her mother's simple words were filled with an indescribable sense of truth.

Kasahara Fukaeri did not object.

She even seemed to enjoy it, greedily savoring the fleeting, vivid joy.

Amidst the patter of rain, her eyes flickered, and her nostrils trembled. She turned around, burying her face in her mother's arms as she had when she was a child, and softly pleaded, "Mom, help me get revenge..."

Mrs. Kasahara held her head in her hands, as if she were holding a big child.

"Mom will."

"But don't go too far, I'm worried..."

"Don't worry, Mom will be careful."

"That's great."

"Whether it's you or Xiangxiang, Mom likes you both very much. How could I bear to make things difficult for you?" Mrs. Kasahara put her arms around her shoulders, as if she were hugging a child.

"I believe you," Kasahara Fukari said, then closed her eyes.

The proud and aloof policewoman nestled affectionately in her mother's arms, a clear blush rising on her cheeks...

A misty rain rose in the courtyard, turning it into a white expanse, concealing the flowers.

The birds chirped and sang, but no birds could be seen; it was as if the whole forest was filled with their melodious birdsong.

Ok.

This is the scene that Fujiwara Izaya saw when he walked in.

Eri Fuka was like a completely different person, as if her soul had been reborn. Even in the dim light, she shone like a dazzling pearl.

Fujiwara Izaya couldn't understand it.

But he was deeply shocked.

The scene was incredible; there was no color, no sound. It was like an old, moldy 8-meter film, and the images of Mohu were shown, evoking a nostalgic sense of familiarity.

Kasahara Fukari saw him, and her expression instantly turned cold.

She left her mother's embrace without a trace, turned around, and clattered into the house in her wooden clogs. Her bright red kimono, its lines flowing gently from her shoulders to the hem, swayed gracefully, fitting her perfectly.

Fujiwara Rinya had no idea what the mother and daughter were doing.

He was told directly that these two women might be secretly gossiping about him and talking badly about him. So he adopted the most obedient posture, bowing his head and greeting, "Hello, Chairman."

Mrs. Kasahara glanced at him and simply nodded slightly.

"Come in with me to arrange flowers," she instructed, stepping slowly into the house with an air of nobility and majesty.

At this moment, she was exactly the same as she was at the board meeting. Yet, she appeared completely different from the woman in a bikini on the yacht. Although her beautiful face remained the same, she gave the impression of two entirely different beauties.

In this regard.

Fujiwara Izaya has only one evaluation.

awesome!

The room connected to the living room was covered with a floral mat, and several vases and flower arrangement materials were placed under a low table, giving it a cool and austere feel.

After the servants brought in the flowers, they left. Mrs. Kasahara took off her black kimono jacket and put on a kimono with white polka dots made of Yuki-ori dye. The white kimono was decorated with plum blossoms on the hem, sleeves, and shoulders, giving it a very elegant look.

Meanwhile, Kasahara Fukaeri, standing next to her, had white flowers in her hair and wore a gorgeous bright red kimono.

Fujiwara Izaya believed that the color red existed in the world solely to highlight her nobility.

"Invincibility Begins with Sacrificing to the Ancestral Master"

"Come in and sit down," Mrs. Kasahara instructed, her face displaying the dignified air of a great person.

"..." Fujiwara Izaya was completely baffled and could only obediently kneel down opposite the mother and daughter.

There were some delicate snacks and tea on the table.

"Eat up," Mrs. Kasahara said casually.

"It's not right for the Chairman to always entertain us..."

"Ok?"

"I'll eat..."

Fujiwara Izaya obediently picked up a pink sakura mochi and smiled at the noble lady.

Across from him, Kasahara Fukari was clearly suppressing a laugh, her eyes fixed on him with an air of reverence. Based on her years of experience in criminal investigation, she knew this fearless scoundrel was poised to storm out at any moment.

The room was lit only by a small fluorescent lamp.

The light shone down from the ceiling, illuminating the bright, moist glow of the flower on her head, creating a unique and charming effect.

Unlike women who occasionally reveal their inner beauty, this was a face that appeared cold and indifferent from any angle. This kind of disguise was a gift; no woman could ever be so perfectly cold.

"What did you do after returning to Tokyo?" Mrs. Kasahara asked, holding a yellow rose in her hand.