When Shigaraki Tomura stepped into Himiko Toga's home, he was—quite honestly—surprised.
Not because the place was shabby.
On the contrary.
It was because he hadn't expected it to be this luxurious.
The moment he passed through the outer gate, an expansive traditional Japanese estate unfolded before his eyes.
A carefully designed courtyard spread out beyond the surrounding walls.
At its center stood a bamboo water feature—the classic shishi-odoshi—the kind that slowly filled with water before tipping forward with a soft knock against stone.
The rhythmic sound echoed gently through the night.
Around it stood elegant wooden corridors, sliding paper doors, and meticulously maintained garden landscaping.
Every detail was deliberate.
Every structure perfectly preserved in traditional style.
The woodwork was polished.
The pathways spotless.
Even the faint scent of the garden felt calming.
It was the kind of residence that perfectly embodied the phrase:
Old Japanese aristocratic household.
Seeing this, Shigaraki couldn't help glancing sideways at the blonde girl walking ahead of him.
His expression turned slightly strange.
So…
Himiko Toga was secretly a rich girl?
Thinking about it, though, the idea wasn't that shocking.
In his previous life, the bits of information he had read about the Toga family suggested that they were indeed part of Japan's upper class.
Toga herself had been described as the eldest daughter of a prestigious household.
If that information was accurate, then a residence like this was actually quite reasonable.
In fact—
Shigaraki even began to suspect something else.
When Toga eventually became a wanted criminal, the media had never publicly revealed her real name or face.
Officially, the explanation was simple:
Her Quirk—Transform—allowed her to impersonate anyone whose blood she consumed.
But Shigaraki couldn't help wondering if the Toga family's influence had also played a role behind the scenes.
After all…
If random strangers didn't know what her Quirk was, that was understandable.
But for her own parents not to know?
That would be ridiculous.
Still, that was only speculation.
The real answer would have to come from the person involved.
And just as Shigaraki was busy entertaining all sorts of unnecessary thoughts, Toga—who had entered the house ahead of him—had already finished preparing dinner.
By the time he stepped into the dining area, the table was full.
She smiled warmly and gestured toward the meal.
"Sorry, Shimura-kun. This is all I had at home."
She sounded almost apologetic.
"Please forgive the simple food."
"…Heh."
Shigaraki's mouth twitched.
Simple?
On the table sat dishes made from premium Kobe steak, bluefin tuna sashimi, Ise lobster, and several other ingredients that could only be described as high-end luxury.
Simple food?
If this counted as simple, what exactly qualified as fancy?
Just the lobster alone was worth thousands of yen.
Fresh Ise lobster typically sold for somewhere between five and eight thousand yen per piece.
And Kobe beef…
Even a single pound could easily cost several thousand yuan.
As for bluefin tuna?
That was even worse.
Shigaraki vaguely remembered a news story from before his reincarnation—someone in Japan had auctioned a 278-kilogram bluefin tuna for over two hundred million yen.
Which meant—
Just this single dinner might be worth tens of thousands.
Looking at the table again, Shigaraki suddenly felt like he was staring at neatly arranged piles of cash.
Still…
Despite his internal complaints about this accidental display of wealth, he had no intention of arguing with food.
Especially not when he was starving.
So he abandoned all hesitation and began eating.
Wholeheartedly.
Food had done nothing wrong.
And wasting food was shameful.
Besides—
For someone who had spent decades in a harsh world surviving on poorly seasoned wild meat, this kind of meal was practically a divine experience.
Every bite made his brain pause.
Was food supposed to taste like this?
The flavor was so good that for a brief moment he almost felt like he was melting.
So this was what high-end ingredients could do.
If that was the case…
Shigaraki silently made a mental note.
When he got back, he was definitely going to make Kurogiri improve his cooking skills.
There was no excuse.
Even if Kurogiri couldn't reach Toga's level, he should at least aim for something close.
After all—
Until Shigaraki found a way back to his original world, he planned to enjoy food here properly.
And once he left…
He might never taste dishes like this again.
Across the table, Toga watched him eat.
At first she simply smiled quietly.
Then, after a while, she leaned forward slightly and rested her elbows on the table, supporting her chin in both hands.
Her expression looked strangely adorable.
"Shimura-kun," she asked sweetly, "are you enjoying it?"
Shigaraki didn't hesitate.
"Absolutely."
He raised a thumb while stuffing a fried shrimp into his mouth.
After swallowing, he wiped his lips with a napkin.
"It's amazing."
"Honestly, I wish I could eat food like this every day."
For the first time in his life, Shigaraki realized just how incredible properly prepared food could be.
Yes, the ingredients were high-end.
But the cooking skill mattered too.
If the chef didn't know what they were doing, even the best ingredients could become disasters.
He had seen people like that before.
"Kitchen geniuses" capable of turning premium ingredients into terrifying dark cuisine.
Those kinds of people could turn anything into something that might kill you after a single bite.
Which was why—
Shigaraki was genuinely impressed.
Toga's cooking ability was actually excellent.
Meanwhile, hearing his praise made Toga's smile grow even brighter.
"Really?"
She tilted her head slightly.
Then she said something unexpected.
"In that case…"
Her golden eyes fixed on him.
"Shimura-kun, would you like to stay with me from now on?"
She spoke casually.
"If you do, you can eat this kind of food every day."
"—Pfft!"
The moment those words left her mouth, Shigaraki choked on the milk he had just taken a sip of.
"Cough—!"
"Wait—what?"
That… was basically a confession, right?
There was no other way to interpret it.
No matter who heard that sentence, they would reach the same conclusion.
He coughed repeatedly, barely managing to swallow without spraying milk across the table.
Finally, after a few seconds of desperate coughing, he steadied himself.
Then he looked at her with complete seriousness.
His expression turned solemn.
Almost righteous.
"I'm sorry."
He raised a hand.
"You're a good person."
The classic rejection line.
Delivered without hesitation.
Because there was absolutely no way he was selling himself for a single meal.
Did she really think he was that easy?
He was Shigaraki Tomura.
A man of principle.
Not someone who would betray his dignity for a plate of delicious food.
Absolutely not.
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