I took a break from the AI. I got busy in a few weeks. I picked it back up on the last day of March while also combining to write it with "A Devil's Flock." I will not deny that it's much fun to do this again.

Now, in the "Blood Brothers" chapter, the summer setting in.

Which is weird as I will also be closing in in the summer. April is just around the corner.

Plus, it's one of the bigger chapters on this fic. For once, I'll let myself go.

Started on 29/06/2020

Ended on 13/07/2020


We're blood brothers,
we're blood brothers
We're blood brothers,
we're blood brothers


Minato stood with his hands on the shoulders of his brother and turned to the Sekirei, his older sisters-in-law, to some degree. Ichika's smile was soft as he greeted the girls.

The idea that women looked at him differently than an animal in the zoo was refreshing. The girls smiled naturally at him.

"Minato, could you please introduce us formally to Ichika Orimura?" The Ashikabi smiled at him and nodded.

"Sure thing. Please line up outside." The girls smiled as they walked into the garden, with Minato following them and Kusano on his hip.

"This is Musubi," Minato cooed as he put his hand on her shoulder. She winged me, and that was the start of this crazy adventure." Bowing to Ichika, Musubi smiled at him. Ichika bowing back.

"Happy to meet you, Ichika. I hope we can become good friends. I want to spar with you soon." That natural smile put Ichika at ease.

"I am sure we will, Musubi. I do hope that we can do that as well," Ichika told her while Minato gave her an uneasy smile. Musubi, take it easy on him. He is a human being." She smiled eagerly, and Ichika returned her grin. It was going to be fun.

"I will, Minato. Don't worry." He moved on to a blonde woman with crossed arms and a stern expression.

"This is Tsukiumi. She was my fourth Sekirei." Ichika bowed to her. "Hello."

"And I am also Minato's wife," Minato interjected before the girls could speak up.

"Tsukiumi, we aren't playing that game. Introduce yourself properly." The Waterdere just sighed and bowed to Ichika.

"I am Tsukiumi, Sekirei Number 9. Nice to meet you, Ichika Orimura."

"Hello, Tsukiumi. I'll be in your care," Ichika told the woman. A light grin settled in, and he looked at the bespectacled girl in braids.

"Good morning, my cyber guardian angel," Matsu smiled at Ichika as she ruffled his hair. He returned her soft smile with a grin.

"Good morning, Ichika. You certainly have given me a lot of work in the past few months."

"Sorry about that. I really owe you," Ichika answered with a smile, and Matsu just shook her head, shrugging it off.

"Don't worry too much. We, Sekirei, enjoy a challenge every once in a while. So, I would say that you should continue like this." Ichika was sure that he liked her.

"Thank you, Matsu. If I can ever do something for you or any of you, just let me know." The next woman was someone who could take a man's breath away.

"Hello, little brother." Ichika was captivated by the beauty of Kazehana. His gaze was fixed on her beautiful eyes, and he smiled at her.

"You must be Kazehana, right?" The Wind Flower nodded at him as she ruffled his hair. "Good guess. Why do you think so?"

"You picked up the call after Bodewig went berserk. I remember your voice," Ichika admitted, believing that honesty was the best policy when he looked at Kazehana. She was one fine woman, and he found that he liked her style.

"Well, that's a good thing. Should I worry about Minato's jealousy?" Ichika looked at the Ashikabi, and both shook their heads. "No, I don't think you have to. I'll be in your care, Kazehana."

An infectious grin appeared on Kazehana's face.

"That's good to know. At least it means that we don't worry about clothing." Turning to the brunette, he raised an eyebrow.

"Do you go naked? Or something like that? I would be bothered by that." Minato snorted when he heard his little brother as if Miya would allow that.

"This is Uzume, my, well, seventh Sekirei."

"And also my Sekirei." The honey-blonde woman, Chiho, came into view. Shorter than both men, Ichika had to look down slightly. She was pretty attractive as well, her eyes twinkling as the Ashikabi bowed to Ichika.

"I've heard about you. You two broke a lot of stuff. You must be Uzume and Chiho Hidaka, right?" The two nodded as Ichika was now greeted by them all.

"Indeed, we are. And we're also part of Minato's flock." The pilot raised an eyebrow at Uzume.

"Flock?"

"It's the way we refer to our, well, ahem, situation," Chiho explained, breaking the silence as Minato awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don't like the word 'harem' for this, and other terms don't really fit. 'Flock' is the simplest way to call it," Minato added. Ichika shared a knowing look with Uzume. The boy had adopted the same grin as the Veiled Sekirei. She was anticipating having fun with Ichika.

"Well, it's easy to make a joke with those words, but I'm not going to," Ichika said, his voice playful. So, brother, I suppose you've had your fun?" The Ashikabi's face turned a shade of red while Ichika smirked.

"Don't worry, brother. But again," Ichika said, placing his left hand on Minato's shoulder, "thanks for letting me stay, big brother."

"You're welcome, brother." With that, the two men walked to the garden, engaging in conversation and enjoying their time together.

When the landlady announced, "Lunch is served," organized chaos ensued as everyone hurried to the table. Ichika didn't take sides as Kusano, Musubi, and Tsukiumi all vied for the Ashikabi's attention.

He chose a seat next to Kazehana and Chiho. Despite his friendship with Minato, he had quickly grown close to the girls.

Kazehana, accustomed to stares and lewd behavior from other men, didn't mind turning heads as long as it didn't cross into harassment. However, with Ichika, it was different. His gaze stayed respectful, focused on her eyes, making him pleasant company.

Chiho observed Ichika casually pointing a thumb at the ongoing bickering, saying, "That's normal. You get used to it." Ichika's smirk was unmistakable as Musubi and Tsukiumi continued to argue over who would feed Minato.

Afterward, Ichika was introduced to the terrifying Demon Mask of Miya and decided then and there that Miya Asama was the scariest woman alive.

Lunch was a delightful experience for Ichika, who thoroughly enjoyed the meal. And as they say, good company makes good food even better.

Following the meal, the Asamas ushered the girls out of the house. Ichika, on lease from Minato, just like with the Sekirei, spent the afternoon outside with the boys. The weather was not too hot yet, and everyone found leisure in their preferred ways.

Takehito settled back with a newspaper, while Tsukiumi received lessons from Miya on becoming a proper wife.

Matsu retreated to her room to engage in her hacking endeavors. Outside, Kazehana and Uzume enjoyed the tranquility, with the Veiled Sekirei appreciating her Ashikabi's peaceful nap. Kusano found comfort in Kazehana's company.

Kagari ventured to her room to fetch a book before joining the others outside. Meanwhile, Ichika and Minato opted for the outdoors, both uninterested in tackling their homework during the day.

However, Musubi had a different plan in mind. She dashed inside to change into her gym outfit, emerging in attire that left little to the imagination. Ichika couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the tightness of her top and the briefness of her shorts.

Minato sighed, recognizing the impending challenge. "Ichika. I think you've got a contender," he remarked, catching Ichika's attention.

"Eh, what now?"

"Ichika, I challenge you to a duel," Musubi announced, drawing curious glances from everyone.

"Again, what now? You want me to do what?" Ichika's confusion was palpable.

Minato patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Sekirei are highly competitive beings. Musubi has been itching for a fight ever since she heard you were coming. She's been eager for a match with you."

As they conversed, Miya appeared with a smile. "We've been training throughout the Sekirei Plan. I've coached the girls since they were winged. It's a bit of nostalgia for us. Musubi really wants that fight," she explained, casting a warm glance toward Musubi.

Scratching his cheek, Ichika felt conflicted. Although Musubi's enthusiasm for fighting was apparent, he preferred to avoid being roughed up.

"Well, I don't mind a spar, but let's keep it light, please. I'm just a regular guy, and I'd rather not be hindered," he expressed cautiously.

Musubi's excitement was evident as she bounced with joy, nodding in agreement. "Don't worry. I'll go easy on you. I want to see what you're made of."

Musubi's boundless energy was well-known, and her desire to measure up to Karasuba's prowess was no secret.

With that, Ichika headed to his room to change. When he reemerged, he was dressed in long trousers suitable for an outdoor challenge, signaling his readiness for the unexpected duel.

Minato observed quietly, amused that Ichika's attire—or lack thereof—didn't seem to distract the girls. Clad only in long trousers, Ichika presented a striking figure, his physical readiness apparent. "Aren't you missing a shirt?" Minato couldn't help but comment, a hint of jest in his voice.

Ichika merely shrugged, accepting the wooden bokken from Miya with practiced ease.

"Not at all. You see after constantly being squeezed into a pilot suit, wearing as little as possible feels liberating. It offers freedom of movement, and, honestly, it's quite warm today." He executed a few effortless swings with the sword, its weight familiar in his hands.

Miya observed the exchange, her expression a mix of amusement and concern, while Ichika positioned the bokken on his shoulders, ready and eager for the challenge ahead.

Minato rose from his seat, his voice solemn. "Before you two commence, Ichika, approach this with the gravity it deserves. Musubi's strength is no small matter; you could get seriously injured if you're not careful."

Ichika squared his shoulders, his stance firm yet relaxed, signaling his readiness. Yet, he nodded in acknowledgment of Minato's caution.

"Musubi," Minato continued, his gaze shifting between the two contenders, "remember, you're up against a regular human. Moderate your strength. And heed my command—if I say stop, the duel ends immediately. Agreed?"

Their synchronized "Yes!" echoed with a mix of enthusiasm and respect. Miya, witnessing the pact, offered a nod of approval, her smile reflecting a blend of pride and a slight worry for the forthcoming about.

"Begin," Miya's voice cut through the air, marking the commencement of the duel.

Musubi charged forward, her movements a blend of grace and power. Ichika, however, stood his ground, sidestepping her initial strikes with a surprising agility that belied his appearance.

The onlookers watched with rapt attention, sensing this was no ordinary spar.

As Musubi launched a high kick in a fluid, arcing motion, Ichika ducked smoothly, allowing her leg to sweep harmlessly above him.

The moment her foot touched the ground, he seized the opportunity, lunging forward with precision. Their weapons clashed with a resonant thud, their fists locked in a brief but intense struggle. The air was thick with tension, the outcome of their exchange hanging in the balance.

Breaking away, Ichika shifted tactics, adopting a more aggressive stance. He knew well that a defensive approach would not suffice against Musubi's relentless assaults.

Yet, every parry and dodge was a dance, a calculated step to match Musubi's rhythm without succumbing to it.

Musubi, for her part, consciously held back her formidable strength, allowing Ichika to take the lead.

Despite her restraint, she remained a formidable opponent, skillfully countering Ichika's maneuvers. The unexpected happened when Ichika, diverging from traditional swordplay, gripped her garment, pulling her off balance with a clever feint.

This move, a testament to Ichika's adaptability, momentarily caught Musubi off guard. However, her exceptional reflexes allowed her to regain composure, quickly pinning Ichika in a countermove.

Their bodies entangled in the heat of combat, they separated, each assessing the other with newfound respect.

The duel continued, each participant keenly aware of the other's capabilities. Musubi, recognizing Ichika's potential, silently acknowledged him as a worthy human adversary, a sentiment echoed in Ichika's determination and enjoyment of the challenge.

The observers, each engrossed in the spectacle for their reasons, offered silent support and admiration. Kazehana, Uzume, and Chiho noted Ichika's effort to match Musubi's power, while Matsu was impressed by his strategic defense.

Kagari, seemingly detached, kept a close eye on the unfolding events, anticipating the duel's outcome.

Miya and Takehito observed with a mixture of nostalgia and anticipation, seeing shades of Chifuyu in Ichika's style.

Yet, they recognized Ichika's distinct approach: less experienced but driven by a heartier spirit, unmarred by the coldness that often accompanied Chifuyu's battles.

As the match extended, the intensity only grew, as did Ichika and Musubi's mutual understanding and respect.

Their engagement was a dance of strength and technique, a testament to their skills and spirits. The duel wasn't just a contest of power; it was an exchange of ideas, a learning experience for both.

Finally, as the spar reached its climax, with neither side yielding, the onlookers realized they were witnessing not just a fight but a celebration of strength, skill, and camaraderie.

As the battle between Ichika and Musubi reached its zenith, the air was thick with anticipation and respect. Both fighters were determined, neither willing to concede without a decisive moment that would tip the scales.

It was evident to all present that Musubi held the upper hand in terms of raw power. Yet, Ichika's resilience shone brightly; his defiance was not born of naivety but of a deep-seated will to stand his ground, to push his limits against a superior foe.

Musubi, for her part, was visibly taxed. The energy expenditure required to match Ichika's pace while consciously restraining her full capabilities was immense. This spar was as much a battle of endurance as it was of skill.

Though not as physically strong, Ichika leveraged his tenacity and strategic thinking to make Musubi work for every advantage. This dynamic forced Musubi to adapt continuously, assessing and reassessing the extent of force she could safely employ without causing severe harm.

Minato, observing quietly from the sidelines, noted the exceptional control both participants exhibited.

Despite the intensity of their exchanges, they managed to avoid causing each other significant harm. Ichika's determination was palpable, a testament to his character.

His body bore the marks of the duel, evidence of his commitment to this test of wills, yet there was no grievous injury that necessitated intervention from the MBI.

Musubi's breathing grew heavier, a sign of her exertion. The fight had evolved into a lesson of endurance, strategy, and restraint.

Ichika, pushing past his physical limits, maintained a steady gaze, his smile a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion. He was reaching his threshold, his body signaling the imminent need to relent.

In a moment that encapsulated the essence of their duel, Ichika made a daring move, attempting to outmaneuver Musubi with a swift swipe.

Anticipating his strategy, Musubi reacted instinctively, her warrior instincts taking over. She grasped Ichika's arm mid-motion, her strength undeniable yet meticulously controlled. With a fluid movement that spoke volumes of her skill and restraint, Musubi executed a throw, sending Ichika airborne.

The moment she stretched, the onlookers held their breath in collective anticipation. But rather than allowing Ichika to crash to the ground, Musubi moderated her action, ensuring his descent was controlled and sparing him from injury.

She grabbed him by the neck and began to press. Ichika knew that he wouldn't get out of that hold. Tapping her arm, she let him go while stretching her arms with a victorious smile, causing her chest to jiggle.

As the dust settled and the intensity of the duel dissipated into the calm of the aftermath, life at the Inn slowly returned to its usual rhythm. The Sekirei resumed their daily tasks, each carrying a sense of normalcy after the day's excitement. Minato, however, felt compelled to check on Ichika, who was visibly recovering from the exhaustive about. Despite the heavy breathing and the toll the fight had taken on him, Ichika wasn't seriously injured—a testament to Musubi's care in their final exchange.

"You're okay?" Minato inquired, concern evident in his tone.

Ichika responded with a thumbs-up, still gasping for air, his hands bracing his knees. After a moment to regain his composure, he stood up, his smile wide and his eyes sparkling with a mixture of fatigue and exhilaration.

"Been a while since I had this much fun in a fight. Brother, have you ever sparred with them?"

Minato's nervous laughter broke the brief silence. His gaze inadvertently met Chiho's, and both shared a moment of apprehension.

"Never, Ichika. I'm not much of a fighter," Minato confessed, turning his attention back to the Sekirei, especially Musubi, who approached with a smile still gracing her lips.

"You were fun, Ichika. I can't go all out, but you're enjoyable to train with," Musubi complimented, prompting Ichika to look puzzled.

"Why do you say that, Musubi? I'm not exactly strong."

"It's because I have to regulate my strength with you. It's challenging to gauge how much force I can safely use. It's good practice," Musubi explained, sparking curiosity and a bit of amusement between the two.

"Why?" Ichika pressed, intrigued by her reasoning.

Musubi's answer was full of forward-looking wisdom: "When I have my child, I want to teach them the same way. Training with you allows me to practice restraint and gradually increase my strength."

This revelation caused Minato to blush deeply while Ichika couldn't suppress a snort of laughter at his friend's embarrassment.

"Well, that explains a few things. How about we relax for now?" Ichika suggested, embracing the tranquility that followed the storm of their duel.

The day had been eventful, but in its conclusion, Ichika found a slice of paradise. He was later shown to the baths, a place of healing and solitude where he could tend to his weary muscles in the soothing embrace of hot water. Alone, without Minato joining him—likely out of respect for his need for privacy—Ichika allowed himself a moment of reflection.

The warmth of the water enveloped him, easing the aches and the stress of the battle. In this moment of solitude, Ichika found peace.

The Inn, with its unique inhabitants and the day's unforeseen adventures, offered him a respite from the challenges of his world. Here, among the Sekirei, Ichika didn't just find opponents or allies; he found friends and a kind of family. With a contented smile, he realized that, perhaps for the first time in a long while, he was precisely where he needed to be.

Despite their incredible, sexy appearance, Ichika wasn't bothered with them. The message they were married to Minato gave him a barrier in his mind. Ichika didn't take long, though. After he was done soaping in and soaking out, he walked back. In the clothing area, he found a clean set of trousers and a shirt.

Not recognizing them, Ichika guessed they were from Minato. Thoughtful as ever, a precious thing that he never got at school. When the boy got out, he saw how the eight girls made their way to the bath.

Ichika could only smile and shake his head, finding Minato wasn't tricky. He sat outside and looked at the garden.

"Thanks for the clothes, brother. That way, I won't have to walk around naked."

"So you really went through with it? Got them all pregnant?" Ichika ventured with a mix of curiosity and amusement as they listened to the distant sounds of laughter from the bath.

Minato reclined with a lighthearted grin, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifted by the conversation. "Yes. I've never been more exhausted in my life. But that's just the start. In a few days, we have a checkup at MBI to see if everything's going as planned."

Ichika leaned back, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "Really puts the saying 'don't put all your eggs in one basket' into a whole new perspective, doesn't it?"

Their laughter mingled with the evening air, a brief respite from the complexities of their lives. The moment was simple but filled with the warmth of genuine friendship.

"Hey, Ichika," Minato began, his curiosity piqued as he sat up. Why did you decide to come here?"

Ichika exhaled, a thoughtful look crossing his features. "You offered, and staying home wasn't appealing. Besides, I've got a few things I want to accomplish while I'm here. First, enjoy my summer in peace. I've earned that much."

"And the other two?" Minato inquired, genuinely interested.

"Second, get my homework done. I might need to borrow your brain or Matsu's for that," Ichika admitted with a grin. "And third, get stronger. I know I can't beat your Sekirei, but I want to be able to hold my own."

Minato's smile widened. "Happy to have you around. Makes me wonder, though. What's your sister up to now? Or those girls you mentioned before?"

Ichika's gaze drifted to the sky, his face serene. "I don't care, to be honest. Right now, I'm just happy to be here."

Their conversation was a testament to the bond forming between them, a bond strengthened by shared experiences and mutual respect. As the evening drew on, the promise of dinner and the company of friends offered a comforting end to the day, reminding them of the simple joys and unexpected friendships that life at the Inn provided.

Line break

As Honne Nohotoke navigated through the sluggish pace of a hot summer day at the ISA, her boredom was palpable.

The once oppressive heat had eased, yet it left her confined indoors, seeking solace in the quiet of her surroundings. The usual distractions held little appeal; video games lay untouched, and her friends were elsewhere, leaving her in a lull of inactivity.

Her thoughts drifted to Jasei, a source of laughter and comfort in her day. His quirky sense of humor, shared love for leisurely naps, and enthusiasm for outdoor adventures had drawn her closer to him.

Despite the scorching summer heat that barred them from their usual escapades, their phones had become their lifelines, connecting them in ways that the physical world currently could not.

It was during these moments of reflection that her phone broke the silence, signaling a call from Jasei. The ringtone, a tune they both enjoyed and often joked about, brought an involuntary smile to her face, piercing the monotony of her day. Eager for the distraction and the connection, she answered, ready for whatever whimsy Jasei was about to bring into her day.

It's going to take a lot to drag me away from you

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do

I bless the rains down in Africa

Going to take some time to do the things we never had

"Hey, Ja." Honne greeted, her spirits visibly lifted by the familiar tune and the anticipation of the conversation.

"Honne. Hey. How are you?" Jasei's voice came through warm and inviting.

She sighed her mood in stark contrast to the upbeat lyrics that had just been played. "Bored out of my skull. Why'd you call?" Her inquiry had a playful edge, softened by the smile in her voice.

Jasei feigned hurt, his tone mockingly wounded. "What? A guy can't check on his adorable girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend? What girl do you mean?" Honne teased back, her smile broadening at their familiar banter.

Jasei's mock hurt was palpable, even through the phone. "Ouch, Honne. You wound me deeply," he said, his tone dripping with feigned sorrow.

Honne chuckled, rolling her eyes even though Jasei couldn't see. "Okay, okay. So, what's up? Planning our next big adventure or just missing my charming presence?"

"You know, a bit of both," Jasei admitted with a laugh. "But actually, I was thinking, once the weather cools down a bit, we could try something new. Maybe explore that new arcade that opened downtown? I hear they've got some vintage games and some VR stuff, too."

Honne perked up at the mention of the arcade. "That sounds like fun! And I'm always up for beating you at any game," she teased, her boredom momentarily forgotten.

"Ah, so confident. We'll see about that," Jasei countered, his voice filled with warmth. "Anyway, just wanted to make sure you weren't melting away in the heat. And maybe hear your voice."

Honne felt a warmth spread through her at his words, the dullness of the day washed away by their conversation. "Thanks, Ja. That actually means a lot. And no melting here, just... simmering gently."

They both laughed, the connection between them clear, even through the digital ether. "Alright, simmering lady, I'll let you get back to... whatever thrilling activity you were up to. But think about the arcade, okay?"

"I'll do more than think about it. I'll start practicing my victory dance for when I absolutely destroy you," Honne replied with playful confidence.

"Looking forward to it."

"When do we meet? Tomorrow around noon?"

"Works for me. I'll pick you up there. Good night, Pikachu."

"Night, Eevee." And with that, Honne smiled and laid her head back.

Not all girls had such a pleasant time as Honne did.

The atmosphere at Ichika's house had taken an unexpected turn, transforming from a usual hangout spot to a battleground of chores and discipline under Chifuyu Orimura's strict supervision.

The five girls, accustomed to a different kind of day when visiting Ichika, found themselves facing a new challenge, one that involved housework and the threat of Chifuyu's wrath rather than the usual camaraderie and laughter.

"Remind me never to piss off Orimura-sensei ever again," Houki muttered a sentiment that was quickly echoed by a chorus of agreement from the other exhausted girls.

Chifuyu, emerging from the bath with a content smile and a bottle of whiskey in hand, reveled in the sight of the tidied house. Her attire, a casual white shirt and panties, contrasted sharply with the formality and discipline she had imposed earlier.

"Chifuyu, how do you manage to keep this place so clean?" Rin inquired, her voice tinged with respect and curiosity.

Chifuyu's smile turned mischievous as she responded, "Let me put it this way: I bring in the money, and Ichika keeps the house clean. Right now, he's away at Minato's, so I figured I'd enlist some help to tidy up." The girls, sprawled on the sofa, could only offer tired glares in response, their energy spent.

The day's efforts culminated in an unexpected photo shoot orchestrated by Maya, who had a penchant for dress-up games.

The girls, now donned maid outfits, were reminded of their day's labors and Chifuyu's ingenuity in maintaining order. The outfits, while somewhat revealing, added a touch of humor and humiliation to their punishment, ensuring they would think twice before crossing Chifuyu again.

In a moment of reflection, Chifuyu appreciated the cleaned house and the quiet that accompanied it. The photograph she had taken of the girls in their maid attire would serve as a humorous memento of the day's events, perhaps even something to share with Ichika upon his return.

For now, the promise of these outfits deterring future mischief brought a satisfied smirk to Chifuyu's face. The threat of having to wear such revealing attire home was enough to tame even the proudest among them, a fact Chifuyu banked on.

Though she mused about the potential karma of her actions, the immediate results were too gratifying for her to harbor any real concerns. For once, the dynamics of pride and appearance worked entirely in her favor, marking an end to a day that none of them would soon forget.

The day at Ichika's house was unlike any other for Houki and the four other girls, each tasked with daunting chores by Chifuyu Orimura. The house, neglected and cluttered, became their battlefield, with every room presenting a new challenge to overcome.

Houki, assigned to the mountain of unwashed dishes, longs for assistance that never comes. The shrine maiden is overwhelmed by the weeks' worth of dirty dishes that seem to have accumulated without end.

Cecilia, on the other hand, faced her own set of challenges: dusting down the stairs and dealing with the trash. The task was far from her usual delicate lifestyle, and the sheer weight and stench of the garbage bags left her in disgust.

Rin's battleground was the bathroom, where dampness had led to mold, a concept foreign to Chifuyu's maintenance routine. The cleaning was gruesome, pushing Rin to her limits.

Charlotte tackled the living room, vacuuming and cleaning up after Houki and Rin had managed to control the worst of the mess. Her chores extended from balancing on a ladder to cleaning windows and dusting doorknobs, a task that left her hands numb from fatigue.

The chores extended to the attic, where Houki found a brief respite in discovering baby pictures of Ichika, a small treasure amid the chaos. Yet, the absence of any other personal mementos of Ichika's past was a curious void.

Charlotte and Laura were forbidden from entering the basement, as they dared not question what Cecilia and Houki encountered there.

In the aftermath, Cecilia rushed to shower away the filth while Houki comforted a distressed Rin. The basement's horrors were unspoken but evidently overwhelming.

Laura's challenge was the laundry, a mountain of clothes akin to the dish pile, which she tackled with a mix of diligence and humiliation. Her tasks didn't end there; she also waxed and mopped the floors and joined the others in polishing furniture and scrubbing walls.

Their day began at the crack of dawn, and it was only minutes to midnight when they finally finished. The sheer extent of their efforts had transformed the house, much to Chifuyu's silent acknowledgment.

Though she considered waking them for a moment of recognition, she decided against it, choosing instead to let them rest, knowing well that they had earned it after giving her a clean house.

This exhaustive day was a testament to their resilience and teamwork, albeit under the duress of Chifuyu's strict supervision.

It was a day that would be remembered not just for the physical toll it took but for the lessons learned.

As Chifuyu sipped her drink under the moonlight, she relished the thought of Ichika returning to a meticulously clean home, a rare occurrence courtesy of the day's exhaustive efforts.

Yet, her satisfaction wasn't solely drawn from the house's cleanliness or the rigorous discipline she had imposed on the girls. It was the knowledge, facilitated by Tabane's strategically placed cameras, that she had pushed them to their limits, witnessing their breaking points and their eventual capitulation to the tasks at hand.

While invasive, this surveillance offered her a peculiar sense of control and insight into the dynamics of the group under stress.

Her attention shifted as she remembered a picture Ichika had inadvertently left behind—a memento that piqued her interest and, she knew, would undoubtedly capture the girls' attention.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Chifuyu mentioned the photo, likening her announcement to ringing a dinner bell for starved soldiers. Instantly, the fatigue seemed to wash away from the girls as curiosity and a hint of jealousy sparked within them.

"You got a picture of Minato and those women here?" Houki was the first to react, her glare sharp as she addressed Chifuyu. The rivalry for Ichika's attention was momentarily forgotten in the wake of this new intrigue.

"What kind of women is this Minato guy surrounded with?" Rin chimed in, her curiosity piqued by the mention of Minato's companions.

"I can't believe he left a picture of that pervert around?" Cecilia's voice was tinged with disdain, yet her interest was unmistakable, a common thread that bound all the girls in that moment.

The prospect of laying eyes on Minato's so-called harem had them momentarily united in curiosity, each girl eager to see for themselves the nature of Minato's companions.

As they crowded around the revealed picture, their expressions shifted from anticipation to surprise.

Minato, while not unattractive, wasn't what captivated their attention—it was the women surrounding him.

Each was notably well-endowed, presenting a striking contrast to the typical company they kept. The image captured a moment of affectionate embrace, the women unabashedly close to Minato, their confidence and physical attributes on full display.

The revelation brought a complex mix of emotions to the surface—jealousy, curiosity, perhaps even a hint of admiration. For a moment, the rivalry and the day's exhaustion were forgotten, replaced by a shared fascination with the world beyond their immediate circle, embodied by the picture in Chifuyu's possession.

"Oh my." The awe was palpable in their voices, eyes wide as they took in the image before them.

"Are those real?" Their curiosity was tinged with disbelief, and the sizes displayed in the photograph bordered on the unbelievable.

"You have to be kidding me? Those sizes are enormous." The shock was universal, with each girl grappling with their insecurities and astonishments.

Houki, attempting to make sense of the image, compared herself to the women, finding her measurements lacking in comparison.

Rin, particularly affected, felt a sting of injustice. "Why is this world so unfair? Why do super-hot aliens have such big... while I have none to speak of?" she lamented, her frustration echoing the silent grievances of many who felt overshadowed.

Unbeknownst to Rin, her sentiments were shared by others, even among the Sekirei, highlighting a commonality that transcended their differences.

"I just hope my brother won't catch any of those. I can imagine he would like them," Houki mused, half in jest, half in concern, pondering Ichika's preferences and the allure such figures might hold for him.

The girls' collective glare then turned towards Chifuyu, who met their gaze with a knowing smile. Among the women in the picture, two were familiar to her, remnants of a past that had intertwined in ways none of the girls could fathom.

Though it had been years, Matsu and Kazehana played roles in a narrative much more extensive than this moment of fun.

Chifuyu, reflecting on Minato's choices, hoped for his happiness, recognizing the virtues in her brother that made him admirable.

Despite the potential for chaos, the Sekirei could bring into his life, she believed in his ability to navigate these relationships with integrity, perhaps even sparing Ichika from undue attention.

Yet, as the night wound down and the girls processed the image, Chifuyu contemplated the complexities of her actions.

The clean house was a small victory in a summer marked by solitude and reflection. Perhaps she considered it was time to mend the bridge with Ichika to understand the reasons behind his escape each summer and his reluctance to entertain the advances and attentions in the sweltering heat.

Chifuyu's introspection on her relationship with Ichika revealed the complexity of their bond, one that had evidently shifted over time.

She had always envisioned a particular path for her brother, one where he might follow in her footsteps, adhering closely to the example she set. Yet, the introduction of Minato into Ichika's life had altered that trajectory in ways Chifuyu hadn't anticipated.

Ichika's closeness to Minato was not born out of mere admiration or the allure of adventure; it was rooted in the tranquility and acceptance Minato offered.

With Minato, Ichika found a reprieve from the expectations and pressures that seemed to follow him elsewhere. In this new companionship, Ichika wasn't obliged to prove his worth or compete for acknowledgment; he was free to be himself, a luxury that had become increasingly rare.

The realization that Ichika had grown beyond the need for her guidance, opting instead for the companionship that Minato provided, was a bittersweet pill for Chifuyu to swallow.

It underscored a fundamental truth she had overlooked: relationships evolve, and in doing so, they often defy our expectations and desires.

Ichika's evolution from the young puppy she once knew to an individual seeking his path was a testament to his growth. This growth was facilitated not just by the challenges he faced but also by the connections he forged along the way, particularly with Minato.

Their friendship, marked by mutual respect and understanding, had offered Ichika something invaluable: a sense of belonging and acceptance devoid of conditions or demands.

Chifuyu's reflections on this change evoked a mixture of emotions—pride in her brother's independence and a pang of loss for the closeness they once shared.

It was a reminder of the inevitable changes that relationships undergo, shaped by the experiences and choices of those involved.

Line break. Back in Shinto Teito.

The atmosphere was relaxed and familial, with Ichika finding himself in the midst of conversations and casual interactions that made the space feel like home. The dynamics within Minato's household were complex, a blend of bonds formed not by blood but by choice and circumstance.

As Matsu, the tech-savvy Sekirei, took an interest in Ichika's Byakushiki, proposing potential enhancements, Ichika mulled over his place among them. Despite feeling like an intruder in this tightly-knit group, the warm welcome he received from the Sekirei made it easier to blend in.

Minato's duties toward Musubi and Tsukiumi, coupled with Chiho's gentle head-shaking and Uzume's close observation, painted a picture of a day-to-day life rich with interaction and mutual support.

Kazehana's motherly handling of Kusano underscored the familial atmosphere, hinting at the lessons of care and affection that would be invaluable once the new children arrived. This environment of learning and growing together was new to Ichika but undeniably comforting.

Ichika's curiosity about the Byakushiki and its fate under Matsu's tinkering led to a deeper reflection on his relationship with each member of the household.

He saw Minato as an older brother, a figure of guidance and support, while Matsu and Kazehana, with their maturity and protective demeanor, naturally became elder sisters in his eyes.

Kagari, slightly younger than Matsu and Kazehana, maintained a distance, yet his presence was a constant Ichika appreciated. Uzume, closer in age to Ichika, felt like an older sister, her infectious grin and friendly nature bridging any gaps between them.

Tsukiumi and Musubi, despite their powers and positions within the flock, displayed traits that Ichika found endearingly immature, not yet fitting the 'big sister' label in his mind.

Chiho, being his age, stood as a peer, someone he could relate to without the nuances of seniority or mentorship.

As Ichika broached the topic of the flock's dynamics with Uzume, her head shake indicated that he might have stumbled upon a sensitive subject, one that perhaps held stories and complexities he was yet to understand fully.

This moment of curiosity and Uzume's reaction suggested a depth to the household's history and the relationships within it that Ichika was only beginning to uncover.

"Will I ever see my Unit again?" Ichika asked Uzume as he sat closer to her.

"You'll get it back later when Matsu is done, but that might take some time," Uzume said, his gaze drifting to the right as he took in the domestic scene around him.

"So, I'm just wondering. The whole flock thing. Has it been like that since the beginning?" he inquired, sensing that he might have broached a delicate subject.

Uzume, shaking her head in response, clarified, "No. This all started when Minato winged Tsukiumi. The Waterdere had in her head that she was his legal wife. At the same time, we all can lay claim to that. And still, I was winged by him after the plan. I was winged by a certain little girl whose name I know very well and who I love very much during that plan."

Chiho's playful gesture momentarily punctuated Uzume's narrative.

"I picked up as much from my brother. He winged you after the game. Still, I don't get it. How did that even go? From the little knowledge I have, a Sekirei can only be winged by one Ashikabi, but an Ashikabi can wing multiple Sekirei?" Ichika pondered aloud, trying to understand the complexities of their relationships.

Chiho, releasing her playful hold, explained, "Well, it worked, as Doctor Takehito told us. A Sekirei could be winged by two Ashikabi's if a set of conditions are met."

"Those are, Chiho?" Ichika pressed, genuinely curious.

"One. The Sekirei must have strong feelings and an attraction to the two Ashikabis in question. Two. Both Ashikabis must have strong feelings, and in three, the two Ashikabis just like each other as well. So, all feelings are reciprocated. Those were met in our case. And while I am the stranger in the middle, as I am a normal human, I didn't want to be left out. I love Minato as I love Uzume," Chiho shared, revealing the depth of their interconnected feelings.

"He's really something, that Minato," Ichika mused. Admiration for his brother was evident in his voice.

"You don't have to tell us, Ichika," Uzume replied with a smile, though her tone suggested apprehension.

She had been concerned that Ichika's past experiences might have left him wary or mistrustful, especially towards women.

"Given where he came from, she wouldn't blame him one bit. Yet, here he was. Relaxed, friendly, and he had a match with Musubi."

Ichika's presence in the house, while initially that of a guest, had evolved into something more nuanced over time.

He navigated the delicate balance of proximity and distance with the Sekirei with intuitive grace, respecting their boundaries while remaining open to closer interactions if they chose. This restraint, coupled with his innate kindness, didn't go unnoticed, endearing him further to the household's inhabitants.

Uzume, observing his interactions, found herself growing fond of Ichika. His demeanor and respect mirrored the qualities that made Minato so beloved, highlighting a similarity that even Yukari, with her keen insight, had noted.

Ichika's respectfulness and easygoing nature made him a seamless fit into their daily lives, bridging gaps with gentle ease.

Kazehana, too, found herself musing over what might have been if Ichika had been an Ashikabi. Given his inherent understanding and empathy, she believed his potential in that role would have been remarkable.

Yet, as she watched Minato, her thoughts drifted to the future they were building together, filled with hope and anticipation for what was to come.

Kazehana was confident in Minato's capabilities as a partner and future father, a sentiment reinforced by the solid foundation of love and trust they shared.

In a moment of playful affection, Kazehana's hands found their way to Ichika's scalp, ruffling his hair in a gesture that was both teasing and tender. Ichika's reaction, a mix of surprise and mild confusion, was a source of amusement for her.

"Ka… Kazehana?" Ichika's voice held a hint of uncertainty as he turned to face her, met by her reassuring smile.

Kazehana shook her head, her smile widening as she took in his flustered expression. In that simple interaction, a bond of kinship was reaffirmed, with Kazehana regarding Ichika with the fondness typically reserved for a younger brother.

The dynamics within the household were complex, woven through with threads of care, respect, and an understanding that transcended mere acquaintance.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist. You reach much like Minato would. I will take some other matters into account to test you. Like flashing my breasts to you."

Ichika quickly diverted his gaze, a silent testament to his respect for her, drawing a genuine smile from Kazehana. "Let me know when you do so I can look back. I hate to say this, but you are my brother's wife. So what do you do in the sack? Leave me out of it. I am too young to understand, and I don't want to know," Ichika responded, his words laced with a mix of respect and a plea for boundaries, underscoring his view of her as family, albeit through marriage to Minato.

Kusano, the youngest of the flock, then sought Ichika's attention, tugging at his sleeve with a yawn. Her action prompted Ichika to accommodate her, lifting his arm to let her nestle on his lap.

"Ku, you need something?"

Uzume keenly observed this simple interaction, and it elicited a giggle from Kazehana. Kusano's comfort with Ichika, despite her usual wariness around strangers, signified her acceptance of him, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed.

Minato's arrival and observation of the scene underscored the sentiment. "Well, it's clear how Kusano sees you. I think it's her way of saying that you're welcome to the family." His words affirmed Ichika's integration into their unique family dynamic, a blend of Sekirei and humans bound by more than just the Sekirei Plan.

"Brother. I have a question. You said something about moving." Ichika's inquiry brought a palpable shift in the atmosphere, reminding everyone of the impending changes.

"Yes, I am moving out. We have found a place. Before the party and summer festival, we are thinking of getting a few tests at MBI. If these are positive, we are moving. If all goes well, we have moved out at the end of summer," Minato shared, outlining the timeline for their anticipated relocation.

"I hate to sound selfish, but that is enough time for you to help me out with my homework and training," Ichika replied, seeking reassurance about their plans amidst the changes.

"No worries about that. I understand," Minato assured him, acknowledging the importance of supporting Ichika's needs during this transitional period.

"And I help you out moving. That's the least I can do for you," Ichika offered, eager to contribute to the efforts, receiving appreciative nods from Kazehana, Minato, and Uzume for his willingness to assist.

The conversation, however, reminded them of their weariness, with Chiho's yawn signaling the toll of the previous night's activities. The consensus was clear: rest was necessary for all, a necessity not even Miya could argue against.

In the sequence of nighttime routines, Ichika was the first to use the bathroom. Emerging to find his brother ready for bed, a simple yet profound gesture of brotherhood unfolded. Minato lifted Ichika in a brief, comforting embrace, a physical manifestation of their bond.

"Night, brother," Ichika said, reciprocating the sentiment with a smile before Minato set him back down.

"Night, brother," Minato echoed, sealing their exchange with mutual respect and affection—this quiet moment they were shared between brothers amidst the backdrop of change and uncertainty.

As Ichika prepared to retire for the night, the household scene shifted to a more intimate moment.

Kusano, cradled gently by Minato, provided a silent testament to the familial bonds within their unique group. Ichika, observing this, couldn't help but shake his head lightly, a gesture mingling affection with a hint of bemusement at the domestic tableau before him.

Turning to continue towards his room, Ichika encountered Uzume, whose presence in the corridor surprised him and paused his steps.

Her query about his sleeping arrangements, though made in jest, elicited a playful eye roll from Ichika, a response to the lighthearted banter that often colored their interactions.

"You sleep in this room?" Uzume's question, tinged with humor, prompted Ichika to reply as he continued on his way,

"Nope. I got one for myself—205. And I don't think Minato would appreciate it if I intruded on his room. Goodnight, Uzume."

His words, clear and tinged with jest, underlined his understanding of and respect for the household's dynamics, even as he asserted his own space within it.

Before he could step away, however, the Veiled Sekirei reached out, taking his arm and halting his departure.

In a moment that bridged the gap between friendliness and affection, Uzume leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on Ichika's forehead before spinning him around. This unexpected gesture, warm and sisterly, left Ichika momentarily unsure.

It did show a generous amount of cleavage. Did those women have no shame? His morals were unshakeable, but he wasn't blind.

Ichika's reaction to Uzume's unexpected kiss—a mixture of surprise and bashfulness—was unmistakable.

His face, glowing with a warmth that could rival the sun itself, highlighted the depth of his longing for genuine connections and familial warmth. As Uzume winked and bid him good night, Ichika's embarrassment propelled him to escape as swiftly as possible, leaving a moment of reflection in his wake.

"Was that such a good idea?" Chiho, witnessing the exchange, voiced her concern to Uzume, her arms crossed in contemplation. The intimacy of Uzume's gesture towards Ichika seemed to blur the boundaries of their relationships within the household.

Uzume, facing Chiho with a solemn expression, shared her observations: "Chiho, just humor me. You see him like this. Ichika is starving for affection. The times that Minato lifted him or when Kusano laid her head on him, he reacted differently. And while I don't feel attracted to him, a part of me aches looking at him. We all heard those stories about his life at the ISA."

Kazehana, joining the conversation, inquired, "You mean that he likes being hugged? Or loved?"

Her presence added another layer to their deliberation on Ichika's need for emotional warmth—a need that was palpable to those around him.

Uzume's response was heartfelt, "You don't? Big sis, you can see how much he likes Minato. We all heard horror stories from him. A human being can't survive without warmth. As long as he is here and we don't cross borders, I am not going to change my ways."

Her stance was clear; affection, when offered with respect and within boundaries, was essential to Ichika's well-being, a sentiment she was committed to upholding.

Kazehana, with a soft sigh, acknowledged the situation with a smile, "Well, we're going to give him one good summer. But not too much teasing him, right?" Her words were a gentle reminder of the fine line between affection and overstepping, a balance they all sought to maintain.

"Indeed," came Uzume's simple yet meaningful agreement.

However, the simultaneous sighs from the women closest to her signaled an understanding of Uzume's playful nature.

While they recognized the importance of supporting Ichika with kindness and warmth, they also knew Uzume's penchant for teasing might not be entirely curbed.

The consensus was clear: as long as the teasing remained light-hearted and within limits, it would be part of the summer's tapestry of interactions, contributing to the rich, complex dynamics of their shared lives.

As Ichika retreated to the solace of his room, the evening's interactions left him with a sense of contentment that had been rare in his recent experiences. His smile, broad and genuine, was a testament to the newfound ease he felt within Minato's household.

For the first time in a long while, he looked forward to the solitude of his own space, a luxury he had missed. Settling into the futon, Ichika allowed himself to relax fully, the quiet anticipation of the summer's potential adventures bringing a peaceful close to his day.

In contrast, Minato's night unfolded with the Sekirei gathered around him, a stark departure from the previous night's chaos.

The air was calm, and the Sekirei were dressed. There were no visible remnants of the previous night's festivities, marking a return to a more familial atmosphere. With Kusano joining them, the scene was one of collective healing, a shared moment of rest necessary after the exertions of the night before.

Though content, Minato couldn't ignore the physical reminders of the previous night's activities. The soreness served as a memo of his limits and the need for moderation.

The realization that five was his maximum was evident in his mind, a boundary he was determined to observe in the future. The relief that Kusano was not part of the intimate encounters was palpable, acknowledging the patience required as she grew older.

But those thoughts were for another time. The immediate future held the promise of summer, a season of warmth and possibilities.

With Ichika by his side, Minato looked forward to the support and companionship his brother would provide.

Line break. Next morning

Awakening early, Ichika took a moment to acquaint himself with the unfamiliar ceiling of the Iz, a brief reminder of his new surroundings.

With a quiet respect for the early hour, he made his way past Minato's room, careful not to disturb the rest of the household. His path led him to the garden, a tranquil haven that already hosted another early riser.

Miya, in the midst of her sword practice, presented a striking figure. Her mastery of the sword far surpassed that of the girls with their Uchiganes, captivating Ichika with her fluidity and grace.

To Ichika, her movements were an art form—elegant yet imbued with a lethal precision that he had not observed in Houki or anyone else.

Her technique was so integrated with her being that the sword seemed an extension of herself, a dance of steel and spirit that held Ichika spellbound.

When Miya's practice brought her sword to point in his direction, it was not with aggression but a controlled pause, her kind smile belaying the seriousness of her discipline. Ichika's reaction, a mix of surprise and admiration, was marked by a raised eyebrow and a respectful smile, acknowledging the prowess before him.

Their silent exchange in the garden, a moment shared in the quiet of dawn, underscored the depth of skill and mystery surrounding Miya. To Ichika, witnessing such mastery was both a privilege and a revelation, offering a glimpse into the world of the Sekirei that was still so new to him.

Miya's practice session took a turn towards the conversational as she noticed Ichika's attentive gaze. With the pointedness of a teacher correcting a pupil, yet the warmth of a friend, she greeted him, "Good morning, Ichika. Did no one tell you that it's rude to stare at a lady?"

Caught in the act, Ichika responded with a mix of respect and admiration, "Good morning to you as well, Miya. And my apologies, but I was captivated by your sight as swordmaster. Very impressive."

His words, sincere and full of genuine appreciation, brought a soft blush to Miya's cheeks, reminiscent of the way Minato might have charmed with his boyish candor.

Taking advantage of the moment to tease, Miya inquired with a playful undertone, "My, Ichika. Are you trying to court this landlady?"

The question, while made in jest, was enough to elicit a bashful reaction from Ichika, who quickly dismissed the idea with a shy shake of his head.

"Far from it. I just wanted to get up early. And well, I have been watching you. I haven't seen anyone move like you," he explained, his admiration for her skill as a swordmaster unabated by the playful accusation.

Miya, putting her sword away, acknowledged his interest with a smile.

"I have trained Minato's Sekirei during the plan. But that is all in the past. I suppose that you don't want to hear all that," she mused, perhaps underestimating Ichika's curiosity about her and the world he was becoming a part of.

Yet, Ichika's attention did not waver; he remained keen to learn more, shaking his head to indicate his continued interest.

"Well, I promised you a fight. Maybe working up a sweat is what I need to get myself up," Miya concluded, shifting the mood from one of shared amusement and light teasing to one of challenge and anticipation.

Retrieving a wooden bokken for Ichika, she prepared them both for a friendly spar. In her mind, memories of her duel with Musubi reminded her to moderate her strength—a consideration borne of both care and respect for Ichika's abilities and safety.

The spar between Miya and Ichika was not merely a training session.

It was an exploration of potential and skill, a dance between the developing abilities of a young man and the seasoned prowess of a master. For Miya, the duel held no intention of preparing Ichika for the harsh realities that may lie ahead despite the ominous legacy of Chifuyu that he carried.

The possibility of Ichika bearing the weight of conflict in his future lingered in the air, a distant shadow cast by his lineage. Yet, the focus remained firmly on the present, on the guidance she could offer him now.

As they faced each other, Miya, with her sword poised, and Ichika with the bokken in hand, she allowed him the initiative, observing his approach and tactics.

Despite his earnest efforts, Ichika's strikes lacked the lethal intent and polished technique of his sister, revealing his inexperience and the unrefined nature of his skill. Nevertheless, Miya recognized the determination behind each move, the raw potential that lay beneath the surface.

Their exchange, a blend of attack and defense, was a testament to Ichika's growing competence. Though far from matching Miya's expertise, his style—reminiscent yet distinct from Chifuyu's—showed promise.

Miya, in her calm and collected manner, met each of Ichika's advances, and her movements were a lesson in precision and control.

It became evident to Miya that what Ichika lacked was not courage or strength but the refinement that comes with years of disciplined practice.

This gap between them was not a chasm but a path yet to be traveled, and Miya found herself acknowledging his potential for growth.

The climax of their bout came when Miya, with a deft maneuver born of her extensive experience, disarmed Ichika, sending his bokken flying.

The surprise on Ichika's face mirrored his admiration for her skill, a silent acknowledgment of the vast distance between their abilities. Yet, the exchange did not dishearten him; instead, it fueled his respect for Miya and his desire to improve.

"Well, that was interesting," Ichika admitted, his defeat not dampening his spirits but rather piquing his interest further.

"You're not bad for a human. You're not a complete rookie in sword fighting. You have picked up some bits. Tell me, where did you learn kendo?" Miya's inquiry was genuine. Her smile encouraged her as she observed Ichika retrieve his bokken, maintaining eye contact as he pondered her question.

"I learned back in the day from Houki. When well, things were normal. After that, my sister taught me. She has been doing that since I was young. I have never been too good at that. I told you it would be disappointing," Ichika confessed his history with the sword marked by the influences of those closest to him despite his modest self-assessment.

"I wouldn't say disappointing. I would use the term enlightening. You can learn a lot as your style isn't fully developed. If you are interested," Miya countered, her refusal to see Ichika's skills as lacking but rather as a foundation for potential growth.

"Sure, I should like nothing more," Ichika responded with genuine enthusiasm. He was open to the prospect of learning from Miya and seeking a different path from the more rigorous training he had known with Chifuyu.

Their conversation, however, was interrupted by a more pressing concern. "I am afraid, though, that our lessons will have to wait. We have a hungry flock to feed," Miya noted, her attention shifting to the household's needs.

The realization prompted laughter from both, Ichika's boyish chuckles blending seamlessly with Miya's lighter giggles.

"Good one, Miya. I will help you," Ichika offered, ready to contribute to the morning's tasks.

Miya, surprised and pleased to discover Ichika's culinary skills, acknowledged his ability to contribute beyond the training ground.

Although she excelled in swordplay far more than in the kitchen, Ichika had honed a decent skill set over the years that would prove helpful in feeding the sleepy, gradually awakening household.

As the morning unfolded at the Maison Izumo, the communal breakfast brought together a mix of Sekirei and humans, all converging in a scene that resembled a large, unconventional family. "Good morning, you all," Miya greeted, with Ichika emerging from behind her, joining the group with a warmth that matched the sun's rise.

Takehito, absorbed in the day's news, was a quiet presence amidst the breakfast chatter.

The meal was a testament to Miya's culinary skills, offering a homely comfort that Ichika found unmatched by any he had experienced at the ISA.

The lively banter and the shared meal wove a tapestry of belonging, embedding a sense of home in Ichika's heart.

The conclusion of the meal brought a challenge from Musubi, her Miko attire a sharp contrast to the casual atmosphere of the breakfast. "Ichika, I would like to have another match with you," she proposed, her spirit undiminished by the earlier activities of the day.

"Eh, Musubi. I would be happy, but my body isn't the only thing that I need to train," Ichika responded, his attention momentarily shifting to the academic demands awaiting him.

The reveal of his substantial summer homework, a daunting pile he had brought from his room, hinted at the challenges beyond physical training.

"I got this nightmare, and I would like it if two brains could help me with this," Ichika half-joked, half-pleaded, looking towards Matsu and Minato for intellectual backup.

Matsu and Minato shared a glance of resignation mixed with readiness, an unspoken agreement to tackle the academic ordeal ahead.

The living room soon became a makeshift study hall, with Ichika bracing himself for the arduous task of sifting through his summer homework. The ordeal, initially expected to stretch over weeks, was condensed into a single, focused day of study, thanks to the collective effort of his newfound family.

For Matsu, this endeavor was more than just academic assistance; it was an opportunity to spend quality time with Minato, intertwining their responsibilities with moments of connection.

As the day wore on, Ichika's dread of his summer homework transformed into a collaborative effort, a shared struggle that brought laughter, frustration, and, ultimately, achievement.

While centered on academics, this experience deepened the bonds within the household, reinforcing the sense of community and support that had welcomed Ichika into the fold.

As the dynamic within Maison Izumo shifted to accommodate Ichika's academic needs, the Sekirei engaged in their activities, creating a backdrop of normalcy and peace. Tsukiumi and Musubi's spar provided a spirited display of their skills, a testament to their competitive nature, while Kazehana sought solace and sunlight on the rooftop, embracing the tranquility above.

Kagari, ever the observer, admired the view, reflecting on the complexity and beauty of their assembled family. Chiho, for her part, struggled to recall a time when homework had been a part of her routine, a distant memory from a different life.

In Uzume's room, in a quiet moment of reflection, they captured the essence of their bond. The luck that had guided their paths had not only reunited them but had expanded their sense of family, weaving Ichika into the fabric of their lives. This new, more prominent family offered a sense of belonging and unity that surpassed their expectations.

Meanwhile, the academic endeavor undertaken by Ichika, Matsu, and Minato highlighted different facets of learning and understanding.

Matsu appreciated Ichika's quick grasp of concepts once explained, a trait that belied any notion of his denseness in other matters.

The study session, though intense and at times overwhelming for Ichika, was punctuated by moments of relief and snacks, a collective push towards completion so they could return to more enjoyable pursuits.

Minato, dealing with his studies, demonstrated the self-sufficiency and focus that had always characterized his approach to challenges.

Student life, with its inherent demands and deadlines, was a shared struggle, providing a common ground for empathy and support.

The resolution of the study marathon was met with a mix of exhaustion and relief. Ichika's gratitude towards Matsu manifested in an awkward yet sincere hug, was a rare moment of physical acknowledgment of their efforts.

Matsu's acceptance and eventual embrace signified not just the end of their academic toil but the strengthening of their bond.

"Thanks for the help, Matsu," Ichika's words were simple but heartfelt, a sentiment echoed by Matsu's playful yet appreciative response,

"You're welcome, Ichika-tan. It was easier than your usual tasks." The shared laughter that followed marked a shift in Ichika's demeanor, a sign of his growing comfort and happiness within the Sekirei's circle.

Ichika's contemplative moment, a rare pause amidst the bustling life at Maison Izumo, was suddenly broken by the ring of his mobile phone. It was an unexpected interruption, mainly since he had managed to keep his phone number a well-guarded secret from the curious and ever-engaging Sekirei.

Flipping open his phone, he was greeted by a name. Ichika wondered why Dan had called him.

"Evening, Dan," Ichika greeted, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and amusement.

"Ichika, evening. Where the hell are you?" Dan's voice, tinged with exasperation and curiosity, cut straight to the chase.

"In a place you can't reach. Why are you asking?" Ichika responded cryptically, playfully evading the direct question.

"My sis went by at your place. I didn't find you but found five girls in maid outfits. When she saw, she noped out. So here I am wondering. Where are you?"

Dan's recounting of his sister's unexpected encounter at Ichika's usual residence painted a picture that was both humorous and bewildering.

"Great. Dan, I'm at Minato's house in what we know as Tokyo or, as it's called now, Shinto Teito. You can tell your sis I am not showing my face at home until the summer is over."

Ichika's reply offered a glimpse into his current whereabouts—a significant change of scenery from his known haunts, a detail that elicited a heavy sigh from Dan.

"That made my job a lot more difficult. Do you have any idea how difficult my sis is?" Ichika chuckled at Dan's complaint, prompting a moment of silent reflection.

"Dude, think about those lines again." Ichika's prompt led to a brief pause, a silent acknowledgment of the shared understanding between old friends.

"Fair point. I'll tell her that. Have fun," Dan conceded, his tone shifting to one of resignation yet friendship.

"Will do. The same for you." With that, Ichika ended the call, a small smile playing on his lips at the exchange.

Matsu, who had overheard the conversation, couldn't help but express her curiosity. "A friend of yours?" she inquired, intrigued by the snippet of Ichika's life outside the Sekirei Plan.

"Yep. Dan Gotanda. One of my friends from middle school. He just wondered where I hung out," Ichika explained, his answer brief yet open, a rare insight into his world beyond the inn's walls.

"Why is that a problem for you?" Matsu's question was genuine, a probe into the complexities of Ichika's relationships and his current situation.

"Well, let me put it to you like this, Matsu. If you got to 31, what's 32?" Ichika's response, cryptic yet tinged with snarky humor, left room for interpretation, hinting at the layers of friendship, secrecy, and the ever-present shadow of his new life among the Sekirei.

"I believe I know what you are getting at. Another girl that likes you?" Matsu inquired, her voice laced with a hint of amusement as she observed the dynamics around Minato, her gaze lingering on the Sekirei gathered around him.

"Yep. Dan's little sis, Ran. She's much like Rin or Houki. A real piece of work that one," Ichika responded, candidly sharing the challenges posed by his admirer's strong personality.

Matsu's reaction, a mix of empathy and humor, was manifested in a gentle ruffling of Ichika's hair. This gesture spoke volumes of her affection and perhaps a hint of admiration for his resilience.

Matsu, contemplating the paths that had led them all to Maison Izumo, recognized the unique strength that Ichika possessed. It was a strength not defined by the absence of vulnerability but by the capacity to remain unhardened by the trials faced, a contrast to the likes of Karasuba, whose experiences had led to a starkly different outcome.

In Ichika's ability to heal and retain his essence amidst adversity, Matsu saw not just resilience but a remarkable fortitude that rivaled, in its way, the formidable Karasuba.

"Something wrong, Matsu?" Ichika's inquiry, prompted by her silence, drew her back from her musings.

"Nope. I'm just reminiscing about the past. By the way, Ichika-tan. I hope you don't mind that I'll take your Infinite Stratos for a while," Matsu shifted the conversation. Her request met with Ichika's agreeable nod.

For him, the absence of the Infinite Stratos was a reprieve, a chance to distance himself from the constant reminders of the battles and expectations that framed his life outside the Inn.

With a contented grin, Ichika settled back, his gaze wandering over the familiar scenes of the Inn.

The laughter, the occasional spar, and the quiet moments of connection painted a picture of a life that was rich, complex, and surprisingly healing.

As the days blurred into a swift passage of time, Ichika found himself immersed in a world both familiar and new.

Training sessions with Musubi and Miya set the rhythm of his days, each offering him unique insights and skills that enriched his understanding of martial prowess.

With Miya, he delved into the art of the sword, her movements serving as a living textbook from which Ichika eagerly learned.

This training wasn't just about technique; it was about integrating his knowledge into a cohesive whole, finding his path within the legacy of skills passed down to him.

While he cherished the moments spent with Minato, his brother, and mentor, in so many ways, Ichika was conscious that he should not monopolize his friend's time.

Observing Minato's interactions with Tsukiumi, he noted the distance between himself and the Water Sekirei.

Yet, this realization brought no discomfort; the dynamics of their household were complex, woven with threads of various relationships that Ichika was still learning to navigate.

Maison Izumo, a sanctuary of sorts, was a place where love and affection were freely given, transcending the physical and touching upon the spiritual. Here, Ichika was enveloped in a warmth that was both new and deeply comforting.

The simple joys of playing games with Kusano, the youngest of the flock, brought laughter and light-hearted competition to their days.

Though Ichika often emerged victorious, the games were less about winning and more about the shared moments that drew them closer.

In this environment, Ichika experienced a growth that went beyond physical training. It was a holistic expansion of his heart and mind, nurtured by the bonds he formed and the lessons he learned.

The Sekirei and their Ashikabi had become more than just protectors or companions; they were his family, offering him a sense of belonging and acceptance that he had not fully realized he needed.

In the bustling life of Maison Izumo, amidst training sessions, shared meals, and quiet moments of reflection, Ichika discovered a new aspect of himself.

Here, surrounded by both human and Sekirei beings, he found a place where he could be genuinely himself, forging a path forward that was uniquely his own.

Navigating the complexities of life at Maison Izumo, Ichika found himself adhering to a new set of norms, including abstinence from alcohol. Minato, with the well-being of his expanding family in mind, had implemented a ban on drinking, recognizing the risks it posed during this sensitive time.

This adjustment was challenging for Kazehana, who is known for her fondness for the occasional drink. Yet, it was a small sacrifice for the safety of the future generation they eagerly anticipated.

Ichika's integration into the household deepened as he formed connections beyond his initial mentors, Musubi and Miya.

Conversations with Uzume and Chiho became frequent, opening windows into their past experiences and the journeys that had led them to the Inn. Matsu, ever the intellect of the group, engaged Ichika with tasks that, while challenging, were within his capability to complete.

These activities not only kept him engaged but also allowed him glimpses into the daily rhythms and routines of the Sekirei, including their training sessions, which he observed with awe.

His astonishment was particularly palpable during the sparring matches between Tsukiumi and Musubi. The fluidity and intensity of their movements left him momentarily speechless, a testament to the power and skill honed by the Sekirei in their respective journeys.

However, a quiet evening with Minato offered a respite from the bustling activity of their shared home.

As the sounds of laughter and splashing water echoed from the bath, a symbol of the joy and camaraderie that filled the Inn, Ichika and Minato sat outside, each with a cola in hand.

This moment of simplicity and brotherhood was a stark contrast to the battles and challenges that often defined their days. Ichika, his mind far from the scenes within the bathhouse, found solace in the company of his brother and the serene night that enveloped them.

The soft hiss of opening cola cans punctuated the quiet, a sound marking the simplicity of the moment they shared.

It was during these times, amidst the laughter, training, and shared meals, that Ichika found a profound sense of belonging. Maison Izumo, with its unique blend of individuals, each with their own stories and struggles, had become a place of refuge, growth, and, unexpectedly, home.

As they sat together under the night sky, a rare moment of quiet companionship between the two, Ichika broached a topic that hung heavily between them.

"Hey, Minato. I have been on something." His words, tentative yet curious, prompted Minato to lean back, a silent invitation for Ichika to continue.

"That is?" Minato's response was laced with surprise, his attention entirely on Ichika now.

"I heard that you found out who your dad is." Ichika's statement unraveled a thread of Minato's past that he had long since tucked away, not out of reverence but out of indifference.

The revelation about his father, Minaka Hiroto, had barely caused a ripple in Minato's present life.

"Yep. I never thought it'd be Minaka Hiroto. And I was the last one to find that out. Not that it really matters. The last time I checked, my last name was Sahashi. Yet, the whole thing is now that Mom is working at MBI while our dad is still on that ship. But Ichika, can you imagine that I don't give a care?"

Minato's words were a testament to his feelings—or the lack thereof—towards a man who had been absent when it mattered most.

Sipping on his drink, Ichika mirrored Minato's sentiment: "Brother, I am of the same mind. I don't know who my parents are, and I frankly don't care. If I look at who I look up to, one is next to me."

The honesty in Ichika's voice underscored the depth of their bond, a kinship that transcended blood.

"Thanks for the compliment. Hey, Ichika, had you any idea that my father would be Minaka Hiroto?" Minato's query, while casual, sought to probe deeper into Ichika's thoughts on the matter.

"Not really. Brother. It's just one thing. In the end, we learn from our parents and see how that goes." Ichika's response was thoughtful, acknowledging the complex legacy of family and the lessons it carried.

Minato, then contemplating his impending fatherhood, shared his apprehensions.

"I have no clue how this will work. I mean, we've been talking about the whole idea of having kids and making babies, but now, with the most likely on the way, I have no clue how I will parent them. I have no clue what it means to be a father."

Ichika's grin was reassuring. "Minato, I think you're overthinking it. You're one of the warmest, friendliest humans I met. You got your small sides—so have I—but you have everything to be an amazing dad. Look what you did with me—with Kusano. The second thing is that you aren't perfect."

Minato's doubts found solace in Ichika's words, a reminder that perfection was not a prerequisite for love and guidance.

"But there's no perfect human being or sentient one. But I know your kids will have one amazing dad. And as for examples, I can think of one." Ichika's gaze drifted to Takehito, acknowledging him as a figure of inspiration and wisdom.

"And well, you won't do it alone. You got eight girls to help you." Ichika concluded his statement not just as a reassurance but as a declaration of the support system Minato had within the Sekirei. As they sat together, the weight of future responsibilities seemed lighter, shared among friends who had become family.

Under the expansive night sky, Minato and Ichika's conversation transitioned from introspective musings to matters of the future and the roles they would play in each other's lives.

"You're right. Thanks, Ichika," Minato acknowledged, his gaze returning to the stars, a symbol of the possibilities that lay ahead.

"You're welcome," Ichika responded, his voice carrying the warmth of their shared understanding.

"Now, it's my turn to ask a question," Minato said, his tone shifting to one of seriousness, signaling the importance of his forthcoming inquiry.

"Sure, I listen," Ichika assured, his full attention on Minato.

"When I have those kids, would you mind being an honorary uncle?" Ichika was taken by surprise by this simple yet profound question, and his initial shock quickly gave way to honor.

"I would be honored." His response was immediate and heartfelt, reflecting his deep bond with Minato and a willingness to be a part of his future family's life.

"But don't expect me to buy them all expensive birthday presents in the first years. Seven kids ought to cost a ton of money." Ichika's humorous caveat lightened the moment, their laughter echoing into the night, a shared joy in the prospect of Ichika's role in the lives of Minato's children.

"Sure thing, Ichika. But I have to ask: Do you never think of getting a girlfriend?"

Minato's curiosity about Ichika's personal life, particularly his romantic inclinations, broached a subject that was both personal and speculative.

"I am not tired of breathing air. Thank you. I prefer to be single. Well, at least till my adventure on the Infinite Stratos Academy is over and done, if I make that far when that is over. Well, if you find me a couple of girls like the ones you have, let me know."

Ichika's response, while playful, hinted at his current priorities and the complexities of his life's journey.

"Jealous?" Minato's light yet probing question sought to understand Ichika's feelings about his unique situation.

"A bit, perhaps. But you went through hell to get where you are. No human can't deny you your share of happiness after you had your share of misery. I am not looking for love at the moment. And most likely, I won't be for a long time."

Ichika's acknowledgment of Minato's struggles and victories underlined his respect and admiration for Minato's journey. At fifteen, Ichika viewed his future, including matters of the heart, with an open-ended perspective, aware of the changes and choices that lay ahead.

Line break. The next morning

The early bustle within Maison Izumo hinted at a day unlike any other. Ichika, already outside training with Miya, took note of the unusual activity.

The presence of Musubi and Tsukiumi in the early hours was expected of their dedication to training a well-established routine.

However, the sight of Uzume, Kazehana, and Matsu joining the early risers was out of the ordinary, a deviation from their habits that piqued Ichika's curiosity.

"Good morning, Ichika," greeted the early birds, their voices mingling in the morning air.

Ichika focused on his training and waved in response, his attention firmly on Miya and the techniques she demonstrated.

Training with Miya was not just a session of physical exertion; it was a journey into the depths of martial arts, a discipline that required the melding of mind, body, and spirit.

Ichika, ever the diligent student, absorbed her teachings, his body moving in harmony with hers. It was a dance of blades that spoke of respect and a shared pursuit of mastery.

The martial arts philosophy that guided their training emphasized learning through observation and replication, a method that allowed Ichika to develop his style gradually.

Each clash with Miya, each movement mimicked and adapted, was a step toward his personal growth as a martial artist.

Yet, the training session took on a different hue as Ichika noticed the entire flock's early assembly, an unusual occurrence that signaled something significant was afoot. Minato's approach, marked by a severe smile, confirmed Ichika's suspicions.

The atmosphere, charged with anticipation and a sense of purpose, suggested that the day held more than routine training and daily chores.

As the morning unfolded into an unexpected turn of events, Minato approached Ichika with a request, his expression severe yet underscored with an unmistakable sense of anticipation.

"Ichika, you mind doing me a favor?" he asked, placing a hand on Ichika's shoulder—a gesture that spoke of trust and camaraderie.

"Sure. What do you need?" Ichika responded, and his willingness to assist was evident in his prompt reply. Minato glanced back towards the flock, hinting at the collective nature of the request.

"We're going to MBI for the girls to get checked on and see if well. You can guess that." Ichika's playful response lightened the gravity of the situation,

"Already? It's only been a few days. Aren't you sure that you need to try various amounts of times?" His jest, however, was quickly rebuffed by a gentle yet firm reprimand, a reminder of the Inn's standards for humor.

"Enough. Those jokes aren't tolerated in Maison Izumo," came the response, though Ichika's grin remained unfazed,

"What joke? I am serious. You sure that it hit?" His question was met with Minato's resigned sigh, a silent acknowledgment of the uncertainty and hope that marked this pivotal moment.

Minato's request was simple yet significant,

"We'll see. I'll give you the details. Can you play with Kusano a bit until we get back after our checkup?" His glance towards Kusano, who would remain at the Inn, underscored the importance of Ichika's role in ensuring her well-being during their absence.

"That's it? No problem," Ichika agreed, accepting the responsibility with a readiness that spoke of his commitment to the makeshift family they had formed. As the flock prepared to depart, leaving Kusano in Ichika's care, the atmosphere was tinged with a mix of apprehension and hope.

"Do your mum my regards if you see her?" Ichika called out a lighthearted farewell that carried a more profound acknowledgment of the connections that intertwined their lives.

The prospect of Takami conducting the checkup brought a collective understanding among the Sekirei—a silent pact that any undue commentary about their Ashikabi would be met with a united front.

As Minato and his flock made their way to MBI, a mix of anticipation and apprehension accompanied them. Minato's complicated relationship with his mother, Takami Sahashi, hung over them like a shadow.

Despite the respect he held for her as his mother and the woman who raised him, Minato had grown weary of the conflicts and the bureaucracy that often came with dealing with MBI.

He was determined that if pushed too far, he would not hesitate to sever personal ties, a testament to his resolve and the depth of his frustration.

The tower of MBI, often regarded as an eyesore by some, was a familiar sight to Minato. Its white façade, a color he particularly detested, did little to dampen the significance of their visit.

Upon entering, the presence of the Northern Sekirei caused a stir, prompting the receptionist to cautiously make way for them, an indication of the tense atmosphere that preceded their arrival.

"You know where you can find her," the receptionist stated, directing them toward the office of Takami Sahashi, the acting CEO. Minato's knock on the door was met with an invitation to enter.

"Morning, Minato. Everyone," Takami greeted, her wry grin betraying her curiosity about the purpose of their visit.

"Morning, Mom. You got Ichika's regards. So how do we do this?" Minato inquired, getting straight to the point of their visit.

"I got special rooms for that sort of thing. I hope you all don't mind if I am the one looking you over for this test," Takami responded, her professional demeanor setting the tone for the examination.

Given their intimate nature, the suggestion that Minato is not present for the tests was accepted without protest, especially from the Sekirei, who harbored a primal fear of the machinery involved in the examination.

As they were led to the examination room, the anticipation and fear were palpable among the Sekirei. Takami's smile, meant to reassure, only served to heighten their apprehension. "So, who wants to go first?" she asked, facing a room full of hesitant Sekirei.

It was Chiho Hidaka who stepped forward, her bravery in stark contrast to the uncertainty around her. "I will," she declared, her voice steady.

"Very well. Lay down," Takami instructed, guiding Chiho to the examination table. The cold, hard surface was a sharp reminder of the clinical nature of their visit.

As the machine passed over Chiho's stomach, the room held its breath, waiting for the preliminary results that would provide the first glimpse into the future that awaited them.

This examination, though just a simple check, was the first step on a journey that would reveal much more than the Sekirei's physical health—it was a glimpse into the possibilities that the future held for Minato and his flock.

As the examination progressed, Takami's professional demeanor provided a comforting presence in the room despite the intimate nature of the check-up.

"Chiho, please take off your dress and show me your stomach. Next time, ask your Sekirei to get a pair of trousers and a sweater," Takami instructed, guiding the process with a blend of clinical efficiency and maternal care.

Chiho complied despite the blush that colored her cheeks at the request. The presence of Uzume, her Sekirei, offered her a measure of comfort, her smile a silent support as Chiho prepared for the examination.

This moment, though deeply personal, was also a shared experience among those present, a testament to the trust and bonds that had formed within their unique family.

As the monitor glided over Chiho's stomach, the simplicity of the procedure stood in contrast to the complexity of the emotions surrounding it.

This was not just a medical examination; it was a moment of discovery, of confirmation of new life that transcended the capabilities of a standard pregnancy test. The Sekirei's unique physiology rendered traditional methods less reliable, necessitating this more direct approach.

When the monitor confirmed the presence of life within Chiho, Takami's smile was both professional and personal.

"Congratulations, Chiho. It looks like my goofball of a son managed to get you pregnant. Who is next?" Her words, while light-hearted, carried the weight of a significant milestone, marking the beginning of a new chapter for Chiho, Minato, and their expanding family.

Encouraged by the straightforwardness and positivity of Chiho's examination, the other Sekirei approached their turn with less apprehension. Musubi, following Chiho, displayed a mix of innocence and bravery as she prepared for her examination. Takami, observing Musubi's demeanor and the physical attributes that accompanied her, couldn't help but acknowledge the remarkable nature of her son's bond with the Sekirei. Especially when she watched those tits bounce freely.

Her son had hit a jackpot with those girls.

As the examinations continued, Matsu's turn came. She approached the situation with a calm demeanor that reflected her analytical nature.

Takami, observing Matsu, couldn't help but acknowledge the efficacy of the medicine they had relied on, confirming the pregnancy with a sense of clinical detachment mixed with personal interest.

'Number four, ' Takami noted internally, the medicine's success is marking a significant milestone in their collective journey.

Takami's thoughts briefly wandered to the future, to the detailed examinations that lay ahead—determinations of the number of children, their sexes, and other vital statistics.

The realization that she was entering grandmotherhood in her forties brought a mix of emotions: pride in Minato's burgeoning family and hopes for her daughter Yukari's path to unfold differently, ideally after achieving her academic goals.

Kazehana's examination was met with an air of mutual respect and caution. Takami understood the depth of their connection and the importance of handling this relationship with care. The monitor's confirmation of Kazehana's pregnancy was met with silence, a powerful communicator of the emotions running beneath the surface. Kazehana's quiet acceptance and Takami's careful approach highlighted the complexity and respect that characterized their interactions.

As Takami reflected on Homura's transformation and subsequent pregnancy, her thoughts were tinged with sympathy and a touch of wonder at the journey Homura had undergone.

The scientist's connection to Homura, rooted in their past interactions and the challenges Homura faced, underscored the personal stakes involved in these examinations.

Uzume's turn brought a lighter mood to the room. Her quick movement to the examination table was a testament to her dynamic personality.

The possibility of her not being pregnant was something Takami refused to entertain in jest, understanding the emotional weight such news would carry.

Takami's confirmation of Uzume's pregnancy, shared with a supportive grin, was a moment of relief and joy, wrapping up the series of examinations on a hopeful note.

Musubi's eagerness was palpable as she raised her hand, a testament to her relentless spirit, "Can we still spar and train?" Her question, voiced with a mix of hope and concern, found a ready answer in Takami's preparedness.

"You mean that you are sparring in the garden? Well, in the first few months, you can. But don't overdo yourself, Musubi. Avoid fights that might cost you a lot. I don't suppose I have to tell your stomachs are no-go zones. If you want to train Ichika, you have my blessing. But keep in mind what it can do to you."

Takami's advice was a blend of permission and caution, balancing the need for physical activity with the imperative of safety.

The room was filled with a palpable tension as Takami continued, "All of you, don't exert yourself too much. I want to study this case before we bring this medicine out. The appointments can wait until you're further away. Also, you can still have fun with Minato in the next few weeks. After that, you will need to reach a stable period. That can take some time."

Her words underscored the precarious balance they all must maintain in the coming months.

The conversation shifted to disseminating their joyous news: "In any case, I suppose you want to go home and tell a few that you got that. If I were you, I would keep the news until the party." The group collectively agreed, and a nod of understanding passed between them.

Upon returning home, the atmosphere shifted from one of clinical formality to familial warmth. Kusano's question, "Big brother. Did you make Kusano a big sister?" added a touch of innocence to the moment.

Ichika and the Asamas's presence, with their silent support and soft smiles, enveloped the room in a sense of community.

"Looks, we did," Minato's confirmation, met with smiles and nods, turned the room's anticipation into celebration. Kagari's humorous admission, "Yes. We all got a bun in the oven," sent ripples of laughter throughout, lightening the moment with joy.

Miya's congratulations and Ichika's heartfelt acknowledgment, "Congratulations, big brother. To all of you as well," underscored the depth of their relationships, the bonds that had formed and strengthened over time.

The room, filled with laughter, smiles, and an air of celebratory happiness, was a testament to the journey they had embarked upon together. The prospect of welcoming new life into their fold, the challenges and joys it would bring, was a shared adventure they were all eager to navigate.

Line break. A few days later

Minato and Ichika's excursion for party supplies marked a moment of normalcy amid their extraordinary circumstances. The shop's open doors welcomed them into a routine task. Yet, the stares they attracted as they shopped without the usual company of the Sekirei highlighted the uniqueness of their situation.

"You sure about this amount? It's like we're feeding one army instead of a party," Ichika remarked, skeptical of the vast quantities of meat they were purchasing.

"You never had to feed them. Believe me, Sekirei can eat. Plus, we also got other guests over. Seo, for example," Minato explained, justifying the need for such a generous supply, introducing Ichika to the realities of hosting a gathering that included Sekirei and their other acquaintances.

"I mean to ask. Who is this Seo character?" Ichika's curiosity about the frequently mentioned but yet unseen figure was piqued as they proceeded with their shopping.

"Kaoru Seo. Takehito's best friend. He helped me a ton through The Sekirei Plan. Down below, he is not a bad guy. But he's too much work to keep up with. Miya calls him a scoundrel, and that is what he is," Minato shared, painting a picture of a complex individual who, despite his flaws, had played a significant role in their journey.

"Are you friends with him as well?" Ichika asked, loading the bags with a mix of curiosity and concern as they prepared to leave the store.

"I wouldn't say, friend. I owe Seo too much after the Plan, but he's too much to keep up with. The whole thing has to happen to him. He does it to himself. Miya and Takehito put up with it. In some regard, he wants to be repaid with food," Minato elaborated. His relationship with Seo is defined more by indebtedness and tolerance than friendship.

"So, he gonna be at the party?" Ichika wondered, intrigued by the inevitable encounter.

"I didn't bother to invite him, but he'll be there," Minato assured a testament to Seo's penchant for showing up uninvited yet expectedly. "And there you can make your own judgment of him."

As they made their way back, the conversation drifted away, replaced by a comfortable silence that enveloped them in the warmth of the sun—a gentle reminder of the simple pleasures of their shared moments.

Minato's casual attire and Ichika's choice of jeans and a T-shirt reflected the ease and familiarity between them, a bond strengthened by shared experiences and mutual support.

Returning home to the party preparations already underway, the anticipation of the gathering filled them with a sense of contentment. The careful allocation of tasks among the Sekirei and the moderated presence of alcohol spoke of Minato's consideration for the well-being of his growing family.

The day of the party was a bustling scene of preparation and anticipation, with Ichika lending his culinary skills to assist Miya and Tsukiumi. The atmosphere was filled with warmth, not just from the weather, which carried the gentle touch of summer, but also from the warmth of companionship as they awaited their guests.

The guest list was eclectic, showcasing the diverse connections that had formed around Minato and his Sekirei. Seo and the Thunder Twins, Hibiki and Hikari, along with their four sons, Raizou, Raiden, Raimei, and Raigou, promised a lively addition to the gathering.

Their reputation for mischief, mainly aimed at their father, was well-known, adding a layer of anticipation for their arrival.

Sanada's arrival with his six Sekirei added to the dynamic, as did his ability to keep his "other three bloodthirsty psychopaths" in line, a subject of quiet speculation among the hosts.

Yukari and Shiina's presence was also noted. Their relationship offered another facet to the complex web of interactions that defined The Sekirei Plan.

The inclusion of Ashikabi with a single Sekirei each—Haruka Shigi with Kuno, Orihiko Oosumi with Kaho, Kouji Takano with Namiji, and Jin with Yashima—spoke to the inclusive nature of the gathering. This celebration transcended the usual boundaries of alliances and affiliations.

As the first cries of arrival echoed, signaling Seo's entrance with his usual attire and the Thunder Twins in tow, the scene was set for a party that would be remembered. Seo's casual admission, "I sensed it. So I came along," paired with the humorous chiding he received from the twins, underscored the informal, familial atmosphere that Minato and his Sekirei had cultivated.

"Midday Sahashi. Sorry for the noise," Seo's greeting was met with Minato's hospitable welcome and Takehito's friendly invitation, "Hello, Seo. I hope you're hungry."

The twins' apologetic yet cheerful demeanor, "We are so sorry for the inconvenience. We're thrilled that you let us come over,"

"Sorry to ask, but are you …" Seo's pause and subsequent scratch on his cheek were a prelude to his recognition of Ichika, "Ichika Orimura?" Ichika confirmed with a nod, slightly wary of Seo's rough demeanor.

The interaction quickly escalated into a playful noogie as Seo, half-jokingly, suggested, "Hey, you mind giving me your Infinite Stratos. That will fetch one pretty penny."

This remark did not go unnoticed by the Thunder Twins, who responded with their signature electric discipline, much to Ichika's bemusement and the amusement of those watching.

"Scoundrel, right?" Uzume's comment to her husband about Seo was met with visual confirmation from Ichika as he witnessed Seo's antics and the twins' intervention. The sentiment was echoed around, even drawing a disappointed look from Chiho.

"I wouldn't say, scoundrel. More like the failure of an adult," Ichika observed his assessment of Seo capturing the essence of his character—a man who, despite his flaws, remained a part of their extended family.

The moment was lightened by the arrival of Yukari Sahashi, Minato's sister, whose greeting brought a sense of familiarity and warmth.

"It's been too long, Ichika. Far too long," she exclaimed, sharing a heartfelt hug with Ichika that spoke volumes of their bond. The time apart had seen them both change, with Yukari maturing into her university years, a fact noted by Ichika's observant glance.

The introduction of Shiina, Yukari's Sekirei, added another layer to the gathering. "This is Shiina. Number 107."

Kusano's excited shout, "Shii!" brought everyone's attention to her joyful reunion with Shiina. There was a tender moment between Kusano and Ichika as he lifted his surrogate sister in a hug.

"So you're Ichika Orimura? I heard a lot from you from Yukari," Shiina remarked, turning the spotlight onto Ichika. She expressed curiosity tinged with the insights she had gained from Yukari.

Minato, observing the interaction, couldn't help but wonder about Shiina's feelings, especially given Ichika's friendly demeanor and the bond he shared with Yukari.

Ichika, unfazed, responded with a gracious smile, "I hope nothing bad. I got enough press as it is. So, Yukari. You're also an Ashikabi."

"I am, indeed. And I heard from my brother that you have a tough time," Yukari chimed in, touching upon Ichika's challenges, which momentarily dimmed his cheerful expression.

"Don't remind me. It's all thanks to your brother that I survived. So, you've been fine?" Ichika inquired, shifting the focus back to Yukari. She was met with a playful glare as she lamented the restrictions placed upon her by their mother in comparison to Minato's burgeoning family.

"You know, it's unfair. My brother gets to have kids, but I am not allowed as long as I am in school. That's so unfair."

"How is that my fault? It's what Mom said," Minato defended himself.

Yukari's frustration was palpable as she argued for her right to enjoy her relationship with Shiina, similar to how Minato enjoyed his with the Sekirei. Ichika, attempting to inject some reason, remarked, "It's not like you can knock him up." This remark highlighted the practical concerns of Yukari's situation and echoed the wisdom of delaying such responsibilities until after her education.

The conversation took a humorous turn as Yukari contemplated seeking permission for something presumably similar, only to be promptly interrupted by Shiina, who, in a blend of embarrassment and authority, pulled Yukari away by the ear, promising to address her grievances in private.

Ichika found himself amused by the dynamics at play. Observing Yukari and Shiina's relationship, he couldn't help but comment,

"Rather him than me. But they're good for each other. And well, maybe later, they can have kids." This observation paralleled the future possibilities for Yukari and Shiina, hinting at the family expansions that might await them down the line.

The moment between Musubi and Yukari, where the familiar boundaries of personal space seemed momentarily forgotten, elicited a resigned sigh from Minato, acknowledging the unique ways in which the Sekirei expressed their affection.

"You got one heck of a sister," Ichika remarked, still processing the interaction he'd just witnessed, only to be momentarily distracted by Miya's intimidating display of the Demon Mask towards Yukari. "But she's better than mine," he added, perhaps finding some comfort in the chaos of the moment compared to his familial dynamics.

"That is the truth," Minato agreed, only for their attention to be captured by the arrival of Takami Sahashi, their mother. Her white hair and scarred presence signaled her significant role in their lives.

Her acknowledgment of the success of her medicine added another layer to the celebration despite her caution against dependency.

"Hello, mom." Takami Sahashi walked into the house solo. The greeting from her oldest child was a welcome sight.

"Hello, Minato. I believe that my medicine worked."

The Ashikabi smiled at his mother with a grin.

"It did. It felt incredible. Do you have any more lying around?"

The matriarch rolled her eyes as her face twisted in a grimace.

"Tone it down, in that case. The medicine is supposed to help you, not create a dependency. It works because I believe quite a few guys want that stuff as well. It's proven now that it worked."

Minato's reluctance to delve deeper into the implications of the medicine's popularity among potential clients reflected his discomfort with the broader impact of its use.

"You know. The age of consent has recently been raised to 16. But I don't know any Ashikabi that is that young." Ichika's jest about the age of consent prompted laughter from Takami, even as it underscored the complexities of the Sekirei Plan and its participants.

"I haven't forgotten about you. Damn, Ichika. You have grown."

"Hello, doctor Takami. Do you have something that keeps girls away from you?"

"I suppose that you don't like it at the ISA," Minato ventured, already knowing the turmoil his friend faced there.

"That's putting it mildly. I am glad Minato offered me a futon to sleep on and a place to hang out. Miya is fun, and the flock is also nice to me. And he keeps them from being sexually frustrated. That is something I think that the girls need," Ichika expressed, grateful for the refuge and camaraderie he found in Minato's home.

The mention of managing the Sekirei's needs was a light-hearted nod to the unique dynamics of their household.

As Takami Sahashi, Minato's mother, joined them, her presence slightly shifted the atmosphere. "Well, I'll be sure to talk to you again. But now, I'll see that things work out," she promised, indicating a deeper involvement and concern for Ichika's well-being beyond the evening's festivities.

"She mellowed out if you ask me," Minato observed, pointing out the change in his mother's demeanor over the years.

"Well, she had to get used to the fact that my Sekirei influenced me," he added, acknowledging the impact his flock had on his life and, indirectly, on Takami's acceptance of his choices.

The arrival of Sanada and his Sekirei added another layer to the gathering. Like Seo, Sanada brought a specific energy that was both welcome and overwhelming.

The calm that his presence and that of his Sekirei brought, especially in how some of them engaged with Shiina and Kusano, was a testament to the complex relationships that defined their community.

Ichika's recounting of his ordeals at the ISA to Sanada revealed the extent of his frustrations. His female peers' pursuit, especially in the context of the Silver Gospel incident, highlighted his desire for autonomy and the pressures that came with being the center of attention.

"So, that is no joke. I wasn't going after that killing machine. When those crazy girls went after me. I knocked them out."

Sanada winced when the story was recounted.

"And you are forced to stay in that school. Can't you just drop out? It's what I did."

'That explains so much.' Ichika and Minato had the same thoughts in their head, but good manners prevented them from saying that out loud.

Ichika's acknowledgment of his limited options, "Not really. And even if I did. Where have I to go? I'm staying at Minato's place to escape it all," underscored his reliance on the safety and acceptance he found with Minato and his Sekirei.

"You have a tough time there. Those mechanical bitches have to learn to respect that!"

Sanada's parting words, a mix of empathy and resolve, left an impression.

"Nice guy," Ichika remarked, appreciating Sanada's straightforwardness and support. Minato's response,

"A bit too hot-blooded for me to spend a long time around. But his heart is in the right place," captured the essence of their interaction—a blend of appreciation for Sanada's intentions, even if his methods and demeanor were a bit intense for their taste.

Jin, carrying a mysteriously large bag, hinted at a surprise yet to be revealed. The curiosity and camaraderie among the guests added layers to the already vibrant gathering.

"So correct me if I am wrong, but is that Ichika Orimura, I see," Jin pointed out, drawing the attention of Kouji, Oosumi, and Shigi to where Ichika was engaged in conversation with Minato. The recognition sparked a unanimous decision to approach.

"What are we waiting for?" Shigi eagerly pushed the group into action, leading them toward Ichika and Minato. Minato's welcoming smile acknowledged the group's shared history and bonds.

"So Minato. When were you going to tell us that you are friends with Ichika Orimura?" The question, posed with a mix of jest and genuine curiosity, highlighted the interconnected worlds they all inhabited.

"It never came up. But yes. He's an old friend of mine." Minato's casual revelation, accompanied by a friendly gesture towards Ichika, bridged the gap between his circle of friends and Ichika, expanding the network of acquaintances and friendships within the party.

"So, who are you guys?" Ichika inquired, his interest piqued by the new faces.

"Sokai Jin, Haruka Shigi, Orihiko Oosumi, and Kouji Takano. Friends of mine. Glad that you four could make it," Minato introduced them, warmth evident in his voice as he acknowledged each friend by name, affirming the bonds that connected them.

"When you got free food, who is going to complain?" The remark from Shigi lightened the atmosphere, a humorous nod to the universal appeal of gatherings like this.

Yet, his following observation drew collective attention to Yukari's predicament: being led away by Shiina.

"Your sis still got those tendencies. I am happy that Kaho isn't well endowed compared to yours," Shigi commented, alluding to Yukari's known behavior in a light-hearted jab that elicited knowing looks among the group.

"She pulled that stunt once with my sis. Happy that we weren't around," Ichika added, his words bringing a visual to mind that made the men shudder in unison, a shared reaction to the awkwardness such encounters provoked.

"You mean to tell me. Yukari gave the tits of your sis, Chifuyu Orimura, a squeeze. Is she insane?" Jin looked with disbelief in his eyes, and Ichika nodded. "She sure did."

Jin made a declarative swig of his drink, signaling the night was far from over for him and his friends. "I am not drunk enough. I need more. And I think it's our turn," he announced, his words acting as a rallying cry for the group.

Their collective enthusiasm for the feast was palpable, blending seamlessly with the overall joy of the gathering.

As time passed, marked by laughter and shared stories, the party's energy remained high. The presence of both the young and old added layers of depth to the celebration, with alcohol consumption kept within reasonable limits, contrary to Jin's initial protestations.

Meanwhile, Ichika sought a moment of quiet, retreating to the roof to watch the sunset. His solitude was interrupted, but not unwelcomed, by the arrival of Yashima, her orange hair and grey eyes a striking contrast against the twilight sky.

Her inquiry about the space next to him was met with an open invitation.

The conversation that unfolded between them was unexpected but meaningful. Yashima's cryptic remark, "Nothing. Just that. Two birds of a feather flock together," prompted Ichika to seek clarity.

"Jin isn't my first Ashikabi. Another winged me. I don't like to think back on that guy." The sun had begun to set, and Ichika was watching it go down.

"You mean. He was like what I am in. The Infinite Stratos Academy?" A nod was followed up

"Well, I'm not there. And well, you aren't around him."

"Jin has his quirks and rough edges, but he is doing well. But compared to the previous one, I have myself a winner now." The smile had lost its sadness. "I have him now." The two could hear Minato coughing.

"Thank you all for coming," Minato told the guests as if the ones on the ground had turned to him.

"We have decided on this party for a few reasons. One is to celebrate the passing of summer. Another is to have an old friend, Ichika Orimura, around." Acknowledgment and cheers followed as he raised his glass towards Ichika, a gesture of camaraderie and respect.

Minato continued, "As some of you might know, my flock and I have made a decision. Those are the last few months that we'll spend at Maison Izumo. I want to thank Miya and Takehito for putting up with a bunch of rowdy tenants. For that, we are grateful. So I would say thanks to them."

The crowd responded with a heartfelt round of applause, a testament to the sense of community and gratitude felt towards Miya and Takehito.

The announcement transitioned smoothly into another topic of interest, "And I know some of you are interested in the stuff, so talk to my mom. For this. Jin. You had something special." All eyes then turned to Jin, who was prompted to reveal his surprise.

As the group settled into a circle, the air of curiosity grew palpable. Jin, with a bit of encouragement, unveiled his secret—an acoustic guitar. The revelation that Jin could play the instrument caught everyone off guard, shifting the atmosphere from one of anticipation to enchantment.

"None of you might recognize these songs. But I still like to play this song," he announced, setting the stage for a personal performance that promised to add a unique layer to the evening's festivities.

Yashima positioned herself next to Jin, not entirely resting her head in his lap but close enough to show her support and affection. Her smile towards him was a silent testament to their bond, a moment shared publicly yet filled with the private language of companionship.

As Jin's fingers danced across the strings of the guitar, the effect of his music was immediate and profound.

The four babies, brought to the party by Hibiki and Hikari, succumbed to the lull of the melodies, drifting off to sleep with their parents close by. The twins, despite their energetic natures, also settled down next to Seo, their faces relaxed into smiles of contentment.

Away from the immediate vicinity of the music, Takami Sahashi, the matriarch of this extended family, found a moment of solitude at the house.

Smoking alone, her gaze wandered back to the scene of her children, their friends, and their Sekirei. The sight of their happiness elicited a smile from her, a rare and genuine expression of maternal pride and joy.

Nearby, Takehito and Miya shared a tender moment, with Miya seated comfortably in Takehito's lap, enveloped by his protective embrace. Their posture spoke volumes of their deep connection and mutual support, a cornerstone of the gathering's sense of unity.

Though awake, Kuno found a comfortable spot leaning against Shigi's shoulder, a gesture of trust and camaraderie among the group's members.

As Jin began to sing, his voice took everyone by surprise. The rich timbre and emotional depth of his vocals transcended expectations, captivating all who listened. T

And if you're taking a walk through the garden of life
What do you think you'd expect you would see?

As Jin's music filled the air, weaving a spell of tranquility over the gathering, each individual found themselves enveloped in their slice of serenity within the collective joy of the group.

Kaho and her lover, Orihiko, exemplified this, sitting together with their hands intertwined, a silent declaration of their bond amidst the shared company. Their closeness spoke volumes, highlighting the comfort and affection that defined their relationship.

Nearby, Yukari found her place next to Shiina, her Sekirei. Shiina's smile towards Ichika bridged the gap between their experiences, offering warmth and recognition.

The proximity between Yukari and Shiina wasn't just about physical closeness but also about the shared understanding and history that brought them together. Their ease in each other's company, observed by others, underscored the depth of their connection.

Ichika, for his part, sat alone yet far from isolated. His solitary presence was by choice rather than circumstance, a testament to his contentment at the moment.

The smile that graced his features wasn't one of loneliness but of fulfillment, a reflection of his journey and the peace he found in the company of friends and family.

Though he might have seemed apart from the intertwining relationships around him, he was very much a part of the tapestry, his solitude not a sign of exclusion but of reflective appreciation.

Just like a mirror reflecting the moves of your life
And in the river reflections of me

The guy sped up a bit as he continued.

Just for a second a glimpse of my father I see
And in a movement, he beckons to me

As Jin played, a knowing smile passed between himself and Minato. The song seemed to hold a mirror to their own experiences, reflecting not just the absence of their fathers but also the lives they had built in spite of—or perhaps because of—that absence.

They had each other and a family of choice that stood by them, echoing the sentiment of the song that in the grand tapestry of life, they were not alone.

And in a moment the memories are all that remain
And all the wounds are reopening again

Minato was now sitting with the flock around him as they heard the following lines.

We're blood brothers,
we're blood brothers
We're blood brothers,
we're blood brothers

As the song progressed, Jin allowed the music to take center stage, transitioning into a solo that showcased not just his musical talent but also the power of the song itself to evoke a range of emotions.

The solo was a moment of pure musicality, a testament to the song's enduring appeal and Jin's ability to interpret it in a way that was both personal and universally appealing.

Throughout this performance, Ichika remained by himself, an observer of the shared experience unfolding around him.

Yet, despite his physical solitude, his smile was a clear indication of his inward engagement with the moment. It spoke of contentment and reflection, of being alone but not lonely, surrounded by the warmth of companionship and the shared appreciation of the music.

Jin's performance and the song itself served as a reminder of the complex web of relationships that defined their group—ties of friendship, love, and chosen family that were as strong as any forged by blood.

At this moment, with the gentle strumming of the guitar under the night sky, they were all reminded of the beauty of their connections to one another. Ichika's smile was a silent acknowledgment of the joy and fulfillment those connections brought to his life.

And as you look all around at the world in dismay
What do you see, do you think we have learned
Not if you're taking a look at the war-torn affray
Out in the streets where the babies are burned

Minato, knowing he would soon become a father, felt the weight of the lyrics keenly. The song's mention of a world marred by violence and the innocent lives caught in its wake made him silently vow to shield his future children from such realities.

He understood the importance of creating a peaceful and loving environment for them, away from the chaos that had defined much of his and the Sekirei's past.

Ichika, on the other hand, contemplated the implications of the song in the context of the ISA.

The competitive and often hostile environment of the academy, with its battles and rivalries, seemed to mirror the song's commentary on the futility and tragedy of conflict.

He mused on how the girls, so caught up in their struggles for power and recognition, might benefit from the song's message, encouraging a reflection on what truly matters beyond the confines of their battlegrounds.

Namiji, moved by the performance and the emotions it stirred within her, gently pecked Takano on the cheek.

It was a small, intimate gesture that spoke volumes, a moment of tenderness amidst the contemplation the song inspired. Takano's reaction to her affection, a mix of surprise and warmth, highlighted the personal connections.

We're blood brothers,
we're blood brothers
We're blood brothers,
we're blood brothers

Shigi caught up in the moment and the message of the song, felt a strong urge to sing along, his voice a testament to the bond he felt with those around him.

Oosumi, more reserved but equally moved, whispered the lyrics under his breath, a personal acknowledgment of the connections that the song celebrated.

Seo, not one to be left out, joined in with Shigi, his voice adding to the collective expression of brotherhood and solidarity.

Their impromptu participation was a spontaneous act of unity, mirroring the song's message about the indelible bonds that connect us, regardless of our backgrounds or experiences.

As Jin transitioned back to the song's softer melodies, his skilled fingers coaxing gentle tunes from the guitar, the emotional impact of the moment was palpable.

There are times when I feel I'm afraid for the world
There are times I'm ashamed of us all

As Jin delivered the lines reflecting on the fear and shame that can arise from observing the world's state, his expression transformed into an ironic smile.

This gesture, seemingly at odds with the gravity of the lyrics, spoke volumes about his understanding of the complexities and contradictions inherent in human nature and society.

It was a recognition that, despite the ideals and bonds celebrated in the song, the world outside often presented a starkly different reality, one marked by division and conflict.

Ichika, listening intently, contemplated how someone like Shevchenko, with their own unique experiences and perspectives, might have reacted to the song.

When you're floating on all the emotion, you feel
And reflecting the good and the bad.

In the quiet of the moment, with the soft strumming in the background, Ichika's thoughts wandered through the events of the past few months.

The rollercoaster of emotions he had navigated, the challenges he faced at the Infinite Stratos Academy, and the solace he found in the company of Minato and the Sekirei—each memory surfaced, mingling with the sentiments of the song.

For Ichika, the song became a mirror, reflecting the journey he had undertaken, the growth he had experienced, and the unresolved emotions that still lingered.

It was a moment of quiet realization, an acknowledgment of the good and the bad, and a recognition of the resilience required to navigate the ever-shifting landscapes of life.

Will we ever know what the answer to life really is?
Can you really tell me what life is

Minato's gaze, however, was drawn instinctively to the bellies of his Sekirei, each carrying the promise of new life.

The sight served as a poignant counterpoint to the questions posed in the song. Here, in the most literal sense, was life burgeoning within them, a mystery and a miracle all at once. It was a vivid, living answer to the existential musings that the lyrics explored.

The very presence of these new lives, still unseen and unknown yet already so loved and anticipated, offered a perspective on the song's questions.

Perhaps the answer to what life really is could not be fully articulated or understood through words alone.

Instead, it was to be found in the experiences and relationships that give life its depth and meaning, in the unabated cycles of birth and renewal, and in the love that binds individuals together across time and circumstance.

Minato's contemplation of his Sekirei and their unborn children highlighted the interconnectedness of all life and the profound mysteries that lie at its core.

It underscored the idea that life, in all its complexity, is a journey of discovery, one that continually unfolds and reveals new layers to those who are part of it.

Maybe all the things that you know that are precious to you
Could be swept away by fate's own hand

Musubi found herself deep in thought.

The lyrics seemed to echo her own experiences and the profound dream encounter with Yume, the Sekirei of Fate. That dream had left an indelible mark on her, a reminder of the unpredictable forces that could alter the course of one's life in an instant.

The notion that all one cherishes could be swept away by fate's hand resonated with her, not as a fear but as a call to embrace the present and hold tightly to the bonds and values she deemed precious.

Yume's influence in her life was a testament to the mysterious ways in which fate operated, intertwining paths and igniting sparks of change and realization in its wake.

Musubi's resolve, forged in the crucible of her experiences and the wisdom imparted by Yume, was clear.

She recognized the gift of the second chance fate had bestowed upon her and was determined not to squander it.

The dream was not just a memory. It was a guiding light, a beacon urging her to cherish every moment, fight for what she believed in, and stand firm in the face of the uncertainties that lay ahead.

This internal reflection, spurred by the song's contemplation of fate and the value of life's treasures, underscored Musubi's growth and her deepening understanding of her journey.

She was acutely aware of the delicate balance of existence, the interplay of fate and free will, and the preciousness of the connections that enriched her life.

As the music played on, Musubi's thoughts about her savior and the lessons of her dream fortified her spirit.

Fate had indeed given her a chance—a chance to love, to protect, and to pursue her destiny with unwavering determination. In this realization, Musubi found not only a renewed sense of purpose but also a profound gratitude for the mysterious, often unseen forces that shaped the narrative of her life.

We're blood brothers,
we're blood brothers
We're blood brothers,
we're blood brothers

Jin's voice was joined by others, creating a chorus that amplified the song's message of unity and connection.

The music, a vibrant thread weaving through the evening air, reached every corner of the garden, enveloping everyone in its warmth. Jin's soft grin, a reflection of his enjoyment and satisfaction in sharing this moment, was contagious, spreading a sense of communal joy among the gathered friends and family.

The musical break in the song provided Jin with a moment to tune his guitar, a brief interlude that underscored the skill and intimacy involved in live music.

Miya, observing Jin's adept handling of the instrument, found herself impressed by the versatility of the guitar. She moved her head softly to the rhythm of the music, letting the melodies and harmonies wash over her, a testament to the song's ability to captivate and move its listeners.

Around the fire, the ambiance was one of contented togetherness, with the flames providing a warm backdrop to Jin's performance.

The presence of the twins, even further away, did not diminish their engagement; their attention was fixed on Jin as he navigated through the song, their young minds perhaps not fully grasping the depth of the lyrics but instinctively responding to the music's communal spirit.

When you think that we've used all our chances
And the chance to make everything right
Keep on making the same old mistakes

Ichika couldn't help but draw parallels to the tumultuous dynamics at the Infinite Stratos Academy. The song, with its poignant exploration of human fallibility and the continuous search for a path to make things right, seemed to speak directly to his experiences.

The notion that despite exhausting what seems like all opportunities, there remains a chance to correct course resonated deeply with him.

It mirrored the endless cycle of conflicts and reconciliations he observed among the students, particularly the girls vying for dominance or his attention.

Their repeated missteps, driven by rivalry and misunderstandings, often seemed futile, yet the lyrics suggested a sliver of hope—a possibility that change was still within reach.

Ichika pondered the concept of chances and how they were given, used, and sometimes wasted. The song's message highlights the complexity of human interactions, the ease with which we fall into familiar patterns, and the complex yet essential journey toward growth and understanding.

Was there a chance to break the cycle of mistakes at the academy?

The question lingered in his mind, underscored by the music. The lyrics implied that as long as there was the will to make things right, opportunities for change and improvement would continue to present themselves, even in the most unlikely scenarios.

This reflection, spurred by the song, offered Ichika a moment of introspection about his role in the academy's dynamics. It suggested that perhaps through patience, empathy, and leadership, he could influence a shift towards a more cooperative and understanding environment.

Makes untipping the balance so easy
When we're living our lives on the edge
Say a prayer on the book of the dead

Those lines struck a chord with everyone gathered.

It painted a vivid picture of the fine line between order and chaos, a theme that resonated deeply with the group, each person reflecting on their own experiences of navigating life's uncertainties and the moments when everything seemed balanced on a razor's edge.

The musical break offered a moment of respite, a chance for the lyrics to sink in and for the listeners to contemplate their meanings.

It was a testament to Jin's skill and dedication that he could bring such depth to the performance, making the song resonate on a personal level for everyone present.

His practice was evident in the quality of the sound that filled the garden, the notes clear and compelling, weaving a tapestry of emotions and reflections.

As the music played on, smiles spread across the listeners' faces, drawn in by the beauty of the performance and the shared experience it created.

The smiles reflected his appreciation for the moment, the music, and Jin's talent in bringing the song to life in such a memorable way. His foot tapping, along with the rhythm, was a visual marker of his engagement, a physical manifestation of the connection between the musician and his art.

The song, with its exploration of life's fragility and the collective understanding of those living "on the edge," served as a reminder of the strength found in community and shared experiences.

It highlighted the importance of facing life's challenges together, of finding solace and support in one another, and of the hope that persists even in the face of uncertainty.

We're blood brothers
We're blood brothers
We're blood brothers
We're blood brothers
We're blood brothers
We're blood brothers
We're blood brothers
We're blood brothers

The repeated affirmation of brotherhood, sung with increasing intensity, resonated through the garden, binding everyone in a moment of unity and shared sentiment.

This time, no one held back. The air was filled with the voices of friends, family, and chosen kin, all singing along, their voices merging into one powerful chorus.

The four sleeping twins remained undisturbed, a testament to the peacefulness of their slumber amidst the communal celebration of song. Seo, typically a more solitary figure, found himself encircled by the warmth of the group, his presence seamlessly integrated into the collective experience.

Minato, with a smile that spoke volumes of his contentment, glanced at Ichika, offering a silent invitation to join the gathering more closely.

Yet, Ichika shook his head, his refusal not one of detachment but of contentment in his solitude within the group. His place on the periphery didn't equate to isolation; instead, it allowed him a vantage point to appreciate the fullness of the moment, the joy of being surrounded by a family not of blood but of bond.

Ichika's decision to remain where he was underscored a profound sense of fulfillment. Without a lover to share the moment with, he might have seemed the odd one out, yet his happiness was unmistakable.

And if you're taking a walk through the garden of life.

Jin's soft tone carried the final line of the song, a reflective note that seemed to linger in the air long after the last chord had been strummed. The garden of life metaphor encapsulated the journey they had all undertaken, individually and together, through moments of joy, challenge, and the myriad experiences in between. As Jin concluded, a respectful silence enveloped the gathering, a collective pause to absorb the total weight and beauty of the performance.

The question, "To your liking?" gently broke the silence, Jin's inquiry reaching the assembled friends and family.

In response, soft applause trickled through the air, careful and measured so as not to disturb the sleeping twins. The sound was filled with appreciation, a tactile expression of gratitude for the musical gift Jin had shared.

Ichika, moved by the performance and perhaps not ready to let the moment end, voiced a request that likely echoed the sentiments of many present. "Can we have one more?"

His hopeful and earnest voice reflected his desire for the shared experience to continue, for another song to draw them back into the communal embrace of music.

"As you wish. But I am not taking requests. I think it's time we'll make some rain.

As he began to play, the soft, melodic introduction mirrored the gentle fall of raindrops, captivating the audience with its serene beauty. The opening lines, sung with a sense of introspection and discovery, immediately drew everyone into the narrative of the song.

When I was wandering in the desert
And was searching for the truth

Jin's voice, coupled with the delicate strumming of his guitar, painted a vivid picture of a journey both literal and metaphorical.

The vast and unforgiving desert became a symbol of periods of desolation and longing in the quest for meaning and understanding in life.

As he sang, his grin was that of someone who had traversed such a landscape and emerged with insights to share, a knowing smile that hinted at the journey's worth despite its challenges.

The listeners, each absorbed in the music and the imagery it conjured, found themselves reflecting on their deserts—times when they felt lost, seeking something elusive and profoundly necessary.

Jin's song, like the rain he promised, became a balm, a gentle reminder that even in the midst of arid trials, the search for truth could lead to moments of clarity and revelation.

I heard a choir of angels calling out my name

This lyric evoked a sense of being chosen or called to a greater purpose, a moment where the mundane transcends into the realm of the extraordinary. Minato, moved by the imagery, instinctively turned his gaze towards the woman in his life, his Sekirei.

Each of them had, in their way, been an angel calling out his name, leading him from a life he had known to one filled with love, responsibility, and unforeseen challenges. Their presence had irrevocably changed him, each name a call to a path he could never have anticipated.

I had the feeling that my life would never be the same again

Indeed, Minato's life had taken turns that were as unpredictable as they were profound.

His journey from an ordinary existence to being intertwined with beings of incredible power and emotion mirrored the sentiment of the song. The realization that nothing would be the same permeated his thoughts, not with fear but with a quiet acceptance and curiosity for what lay ahead.

I turned my face towards the barren sun

As Jin sang this line, he instinctively lifted his gaze skyward, only to find not the sun but the moon casting its gentle glow over them. The moon, with its soft light in the darkness, served as a poignant counterpoint to the barren sun mentioned in the lyrics. It highlighted the contrasts between light and dark, hope and despair, presence and absence.

Minato and Ichika found themselves caught in a moment of mutual understanding. The lyrics,

And I know of the pain that you feel the same as me
And I dream of the rain as it falls upon the leaves

struck a chord, resonating with their own experiences of hardship and the longing for relief and renewal.

The mention of pain, a universal human experience, reminded them of their struggles, both personal and shared.

Yet, it was the evocative imagery of rain falling upon leaves, a symbol of nature's healing and life-giving force, that offered a glimpse of hope amidst adversity.

The shared look between Minato and Ichika was more than an acknowledgment of the song's relevance; it was a silent affirmation of the journey they had embarked on together.

Through their trials, they had forged a bond that was as much about understanding each other's pain as it was about celebrating their victories. Their friendship, tested and strengthened over time, had become a source of mutual support, a way to weather the storms that life threw their way.

At this moment, brought together by Jin's music, they are reminded of their resilience and the solace they have found in each other's company. The song, with its poignant lyrics and haunting melody, became a mirror reflecting their own experiences at them, underscoring the profound connection they shared.

And the cracks in our lives like the cracks upon the ground
They are sealed and are now washed away

Jin's smile as he delivered these lines, suggested a deeper understanding of this cycle of damage and repair. It was a knowing smile, one that acknowledged the pain and yet foresaw the recovery, a nod to the inevitable hardships of life but also to the equally unavoidable resurgence of hope and healing.

You tell me we can start the rain
You tell me that we all can change

Miya felt a profound connection to the message being conveyed. The concept of initiating the rain, a metaphor for ushering in change and renewal, resonated deeply with her own experiences. She recognized how much she had evolved from the person she once was, mainly due to the influence of Minato and his flock.

They had, in many ways, been her "Rainmakers," instrumental in transforming her life's landscape, introducing growth, and nurturing seeds of change that she hadn't known were lying dormant within her.

The song's assertion that change was within reach for everyone, that it was possible to initiate a metaphorical rain that cleanses and renews, mirrored the journey Miya had undertaken alongside Minato and his Sekirei.

It highlighted the transformative power of connection and love and how the presence of others in our lives can act as a catalyst for personal growth and healing.

Minato, with his innate kindness and unwavering dedication to those he cared for, played a pivotal role in reshaping the lives of his Sekirei and Miya.

His actions, often driven by a deep sense of responsibility and compassion, had a ripple effect, creating an environment where everyone could thrive and discover aspects of themselves they had never known.

The flock, each member with their unique strengths, challenges, and journeys, contributed to this atmosphere of change. Together, they had created a haven where acceptance and growth were the norms, where the rain of change could nourish the ground, allowing new life to spring forth.

As Miya listened to Jin's song, she couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the changes that had come into her life, for the rain that Minato and his flock had started.

It was a reminder that change, often daunting and elusive, could indeed be sparked by the most unexpected sources. In this case, it was the love and bonds shared within this unique family that had brought about the most beautiful transformations, turning barren landscapes into flourishing gardens.

You tell me we can find something to wash the tears away.

Yashima, listening intently, found a personal resonance with these words. The concept of finding solace, something or someone to alleviate the sorrow, struck a chord with her.

She smiled at Jin, her Ashikabi, recognizing him as the very embodiment of that solace. In her journey from despair to finding a new beginning with Jin, he had indeed washed her tears away, becoming her anchor in turbulent times.

Jin, aware of their profound bond and the transformative impact he had on Yashima's life, returned her smile with warmth and understanding.

His performance, heartfelt, was not just an act of sharing music but also a celebration of the healing and renewal they'd discovered together.

You tell me we can start the rain
You tell me that we all can change
You tell me we can find something to wash the tears

At the culmination of the chorus, as if drawn by an invisible thread woven through the lyrics, all eyes turned toward Ichika.

His recent nod, a gesture of acknowledgment or perhaps agreement with the song's sentiments, had not gone unnoticed. In that moment, Ichika became a focal point, embodying the song's message of potential for change and healing.

Ichika, feeling the weight of their gazes, understood the unspoken connection being made. He, too, had been on a journey marked by challenges and introspection, seeking his path through the desert of his doubts and fears.

Yet, here, in the company of friends and newfound family, he was reminded that the rain could indeed be summoned, that change was within grasp, and that tears could be washed away, not just by time or fate, but by the deliberate actions and support of those around him.

And I know of the pain that you feel the same as me
And I dream of the rain as it falls upon the leaves

Without fully understanding the individual struggles that Minato and Ichika had faced, Jin nonetheless tapped into a collective sentiment of empathy and hope through his music.

The lyrics spoke to a mutual understanding of hardship, a recognition that pain is a common thread in the human experience.

Yet, it also offered a vision of hope—the rain, a metaphor for healing and renewal, gently restoring the natural world and, by extension, the human soul.

Jin focused on his performance and may not have known the specific trials Minato and Ichika had endured, but his song resonated with them and others present.

It bridged the gap between personal and universal pain, between individual experiences and shared empathy.

His intention was not to unravel the stories behind each person's eyes but to offer solace through the universal language of music. The dream of rain upon the leaves became a shared dream, a collective yearning for moments of peace and the gentle washing away of sorrow.

And the cracks in the ground like the cracks are in our lives
They are sealed and now far away

This line poignantly reminded us of healing and distancing ourselves from past pains, a metaphor for the personal growth everyone undergoes through life's trials.

The song reiterated the theme of resilience, the human ability to repair and move forward, much like nature's capacity to heal its landscapes.

You tell me we can start the rain
You tell me that we all can change

At this moment, as the chorus filled the air, the imagery of starting the rain took on a deeper meaning.

It wasn't just about change; it was about initiating it, being the catalyst for one's healing and renewal, and acknowledging the power within to transform both self and surroundings.

Amidst this powerful message, personal connections flourished; Shigi pulled Kuno closer, seeking comfort and closeness, a physical manifestation of the song's call for connection and support.

Similarly, Takano wrapped his arm around his girl, Namiji, a gesture of intimacy and protection, reinforcing the bond between them in the face of the song's profound reflections on life's fractures and the journey toward mending them.

You tell me we can find something to wash the tears away.
You tell me we can start the rain

Amidst this, Takami, standing a bit apart from the rest, took a moment for herself, inhaling deeply from her cigarette. Her stance on life, tinged with a pragmatic realism only someone who had seen as much as she could possess, was momentarily softened by the music's promise of renewal and healing.

The notion that they could find something to "wash the tears away" resonated with her despite her usually stoic demeanor.

Acknowledging Jin's talent, she thought, "He can play well." This wasn't just a casual observation but a genuine appreciation of how his music had managed to pierce through her scientific, calculated exterior to stir something within.

The songs Jin chose, filled with themes of change, healing, and hope, seemed particularly poignant, considering the journeys of those around her, including her son Minato and his Sekirei, and even her complex path through life's vicissitudes.

For a moment, Takami allowed herself the luxury of being just another listener, caught up in the universal messages being woven through Jin's skilled guitar playing and heartfelt singing.

The music reminded her that, despite her vast knowledge and understanding of the Sekirei and their world, there were still simple, human truths to be acknowledged and cherished—truths about pain, love, loss, and the perennial human quest to find something, anything, to make the journey a bit easier, a bit less lonely.

Her moment of introspection, however, was uniquely hers, flavored by the countless decisions, sacrifices, and discoveries that had marked her life.

Yet, in this shared space, under the canopy of the night sky, Takami found herself part of a larger tapestry of stories and songs, each note from Jin's guitar affirming the possibility of new beginnings and the enduring strength of the human spirit to seek out light, even in the darkest of times.

You tell me that we all can change
You tell me we can find something to wash the tears

Minato, ever the observer of the subtle nuances of those around him, couldn't help but appreciate the skill with which Jin navigated the emotions of the song.

His fingers unconsciously tapped along to the rhythm, a physical manifestation of the connection he felt with the music. Beside him, Kusano, ever sensitive to the mood around her, rocked her head gently, caught up in the melody and its uplifting promise.

It was a simple gesture, but one that spoke volumes about the song's universal appeal, its ability to reach across ages and experiences to touch something fundamental within.

Ichika, for his part, allowed himself to relax fully into the experience. Seated comfortably, he absorbed the sound emanating from Jin's guitar, marveling at the talent of the man before them.

The song, with its hopeful message, seemed to weave a spell of tranquility over him, a welcome respite from the complexities of his own life and the challenges he faced. In this moment, surrounded by friends and the warmth of shared experience, Ichika found a rare sense of peace.

Thomas, the man behind the music, was recognized by one of the listeners as not just Jin but as someone who had a gift.

The storage worker, familiar with the many faces that came and went, acknowledged Jin's skill with a sense of admiration. It wasn't just the technical proficiency that impressed him but the way Jin's music spoke to the heart, bridging gaps and healing wounds with each note played.

You tell me we can start the rain
You tell me that we all can change

Ichika, moved by the music and the message it carried, found himself joining in, singing along. The act of vocalizing the lyrics seemed to amplify their impact, echoing the sentiment of renewal and transformation that resonated deeply within him.

The idea of starting the rain, a metaphor for initiating change and cleansing, held a particular appeal. It suggested that amidst the complexities and challenges of life, there was always the potential for new beginnings, for shifts in perspective that could herald personal growth and healing.

Singing along, Ichika became an active participant in the shared experience of the music, his voice blending with Jin's in a harmony of hope and determination.

This was more than just a moment of musical collaboration; it was a declaration of solidarity with the song's message and with those around him who were also touched by its promise.

You tell me we can find something to wash the tears away
You tell me we can start the rain

Minato, with his intuition honed through experiences that had often demanded empathy and understanding beyond the ordinary, sensed a deeper intent behind Jin's song choice.

This wasn't merely a song selected for its melody or harmony; it was a message, a deliberate communication through music that sought to resonate with and perhaps even soothe the souls of those present.

The lyrics spoke of change and healing, themes that were undoubtedly relevant to everyone there, each person navigating their journey of growth and recovery.

The metaphor of starting the rain, of finding something to wash the tears away, held a profound significance. It suggested the possibility of renewal, of cleansing the past to make way for new beginnings, a concept that Minato, more than anyone, could appreciate given the transformative journey he and his Sekirei were embarking upon.

You tell me that we all can change
You tell me we can find something to wash the tears

It was not just the words but the melody, the passion in Jin's voice, and the quiet moments of reflection between the chords that made the performance resonate deeply with everyone gathered.

This wasn't merely entertainment; it was an experience, a shared journey through music that invited introspection and offered comfort.

The song's message—that change is possible for everyone and that there are means to heal and move past the tears—struck a chord with the listeners. It spoke to the universal human experience of seeking solace and understanding in the face of life's trials.

As the song continued, it became clear why it was enjoyable to listen to. Beyond its melodic appeal, it offered a sense of solidarity.

It acknowledged the struggles and pain that are part of being human but also reminded everyone of their capacity for growth and healing. This duality, the acknowledgment of pain alongside the promise of recovery, lent the song a depth that transcended its notes and lyrics.

And I dream of the rain as it falls upon the leaves

Despite the sky being dotted with clouds, there was no immediate threat of rain; yet, the idea of rain, as presented in the song, wasn't unwelcome. Instead, it symbolized renewal, the washing away of past sorrows, and the nurturing of new beginnings.

The notion of dreaming of rain falling gently upon the leaves spoke to a deep yearning for peace and the healing power of nature.

It reminded them of the simple beauties of life, often overlooked amidst the hustle and bustle of daily challenges. In this context, the rain became a metaphor for the transformative changes they all sought, promising to refresh the spirit just as it rejuvenates the earth.

Nobody among the listeners would have minded if the skies opened up at that moment, as the song had created a space where the rain was seen as a harbinger of growth and a clean slate.

The clouds above, rather than being a sign of impending gloom, were now viewed through a lens of hopeful anticipation, reflecting the song's ability to shift perceptions and uplift hearts.

And the cracks in the ground like the cracks are in our lives
They are sealed and now far away

These final words, rich in metaphor, offered a poignant reflection on healing and moving forward from past hurts.

The comparison between the cracks in the ground and those in their lives spoke to the universal experience of damage and recovery, suggesting that just as the earth heals and renews itself, so too can individuals overcome their struggles and find peace.

With the song's end, Jin stood, his presence commanding a respectful silence that had enveloped the audience.

His bow, a humble acknowledgment of the connection forged through music, was met with warm applause, an appreciation not just for his talent but for the journey he had taken them on.

The listeners, touched by the performance, remained in a contemplative silence, reflecting on the song's message and its relevance to their own lives.

Acknowledging his own need for a pause, Jin's announcement of taking a break for a drink was met with understanding nods and smiles.

The drink, quickly brought to him, served as a well-deserved respite for the performer. It was a small gesture of gratitude from the audience, a token of their appreciation for the emotional landscape he had navigated with them through his music.

Jin's promise to possibly play another song later kept the anticipation alive, leaving the door open for more shared moments of musical communion.

But for now, the break was a necessary interlude, allowing both the performer and the listeners to recharge, to reflect on the powerful themes of the song, and to prepare for whatever might come next.

As the evening transitioned into the deep hours of the night, the atmosphere among the guests shifted from vibrant conversations and shared laughter to a quieter, more reflective mood.

Seo's playful insistence on learning Jin's guitar secrets for the sake of domestic peace was a light-hearted moment amid the farewells.

Minato, ever the attentive host, took mental notes of the evening's highlights, such as Kusano's peaceful slumber amidst the festivities, a testament to the warmth and safety of the gathering.

The departure of Seo and his family marked the beginning of the night's end, as the reality of the late hour began to set in for everyone still present.

As the conversations wound down, the realization that it was time to part ways crept upon the guests. The saying of goodbyes, accompanied by hugs, taps on the back, and other gestures of affection, underscored the sense of community and mutual respect that had defined the evening.

Ichika, in particular, found himself enveloped in the warmth of his friends and acquaintances, each farewell a reminder of the connections he had nurtured or renewed.

Yukari's hug was a mix of sibling affection and gratitude, a silent acknowledgment of their shared history and the roads they had traveled to reach this point.

Sanada's taps and Takami's ruffle were marks of esteem and a kind of informal blessing, a recognition of Ichika's journey and the challenges he had faced.

As the guests dispersed into the night, the quiet of the early morning hours settled over the gathering. The farewells, though tinged with the sadness of parting, were also filled with the promise of future reunions, of stories yet to be shared and memories yet to be made.

For Minato, the sight of his friends and loved ones making their way home was a poignant reminder of the passage of time, of the moments that become memories.

As the last of the guests vanished into the night, he was left with a deep sense of gratitude for the community that surrounded him, for the laughter and music that had filled his home, and for the night that would forever be etched in his heart as a testament to the enduring bonds of friendship and love.

Kazehana and Kuno, sharing a yawn, reflected the group's collective exhaustion and contentment, a silent acknowledgment of the night's festivities and the emotional warmth they had brought them.

Conversations about the future, particularly about the joys and challenges of raising children, lingered as a topic for another day, a seed of anticipation planted among friends.

Shiina's nod to Ichika, a gesture of trust and camaraderie, underscored the deep bonds formed and reinforced throughout the evening.

It was a silent plea to look after Yukari, a responsibility Ichika accepted with a sense of honor and a promise of support.

Yashima's happiness at having met everyone added another layer to the night's success, a testament to the welcoming and inclusive spirit that Minato and his flock had fostered.

As the night wound down and the remaining guests and hosts came together to clean up, there was a collective effort to restore order to the space that had hosted their celebration.

The task, made lighter by the many hands at work, was a final act of cooperation, a physical representation of the care and respect that bound the group together.

Despite the fatigue, there was a shared satisfaction in the work, in knowing that together, they could handle the aftermath of their joyous gathering.

For Ichika, the promise of the coming days, filled with light and devoid of the usual hardships, was a source of eager anticipation.

The evening he had been a bright spot in his journey, a moment of respite and joy that he would carry with him into the future. As everyone eventually found their way to bed, the silence that settled over the house was not one of emptiness but of fulfillment, of lives touched and changed by shared moments of happiness.

The late morning of the next day found the house still in a peaceful slumber, a rare instance of collective rest extending past the usual waking hours.

It was as if the night had granted them all a reprieve from the demands of the world, a chance to recharge in the afterglow of their shared experiences.

Ichika's peaceful reverie, nestled within the warmth of his futon, was a stark contrast to the sterile environment of the Infinite Stratos Academy (ISA) beds.

Here, in the comforting confines of Minato's home, his exhaustion was a testament to the joy and fulfillment of the previous night's festivities, not the weary drain of daily struggles.

His spirit felt lighter, cleansed by the genuine connections and laughter shared among friends. The smile that stretched across his face was one of pure contentment, a rarity for someone who had navigated the complexities and challenges of life at ISA.

The enjoyment of the previous evening lingered in his mind, a soothing balm to the physical tiredness that enveloped him.

There had been an abundance of everything that made life richer – conversation, laughter, good food, and the warmth of companionship. For Ichika, this was a refreshing departure from the norm, a much-needed escape that Minato's home had graciously provided.

Reflecting on the variety of friendships Minato maintained, Ichika was struck by the genuine sense of community he had witnessed.

The music from the night before, particularly the song that spoke of walking through the garden of life, resonated with him, echoing the sentiments of hope, connection, and the possibility of change. It was a melody that now played in the back of his mind, a reminder of the night's profound moments and the lessons interwoven with its lyrics.

Lost in thought, Ichika was ready to let the morning drift by slowly, savoring the tranquility and the afterglow of happiness that filled him. However, the gentle knock at his door signaled that the day had plans of its own.

Rising to the call, he realized that while the party had ended, the bonds formed and strengthened during it would carry on. This brief pause was but a moment to gather himself before stepping back into the shared spaces of the house, ready to face whatever the day might bring, fortified by the memories of the night before and the promise of more to come.

"I'm up."

With a deep breath and a stretch to chase away the last vestiges of sleep, Ichika prepared to greet the new day, curious about who was on the other side of the door and what conversations awaited him. The knock, simple as it was, felt like a bridge from the joyous abandon of the night to the potential of the present day, a reminder that life at Minato's, with its unexpected moments of connection and discovery, was a garden of life in its own right, one that he was now a part of.

"Good morning, Ichika. We have our breakfast. I believe you want some." It was Homura who came to fetch him.

"I can use a bite."

Uzume, Matsu, Kazehana, and Chiho chose the comfort of their rooms over the early morning gathering, embodying the universal need for rest after a night filled with joy and laughter.

Musubi, ever the bundle of energy, managed to greet Ichika with her characteristic enthusiasm despite the previous night's exhaustion.

Tsukiumi, present but visibly worn from the festivities, and Kusano, comfortably nestled in Minato's lap, added to the tableau of a close-knit group winding down from the party's high spirits.

Homura's quiet presence at the table, along with the availability of coffee – a much-needed pick-me-up – set the tone for a morning of gentle healing.

Though physically present, Miya and Takehito were in a state that hovered between sleep and wakefulness. Their silent company was a testament to the deep bonds and mutual respect within the household.

Ichika, observing this ensemble, couldn't help but marvel at the harmony and understanding that flowed effortlessly among them, a harmony he was now a part of.

After a light but satisfying breakfast, Ichika, with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, sought the tranquility of the outdoors, instinctively drawn to the quiet contemplation that the morning offered.

Minato, after ensuring Kusano was in Tsukiumi's care, joined him, embodying the silent agreement between friends that some moments were best shared in quiet companionship.

Outside, the crisp morning air and the gentle sounds of the waking world provided a serene backdrop to their silent camaraderie. It was a moment of simple pleasures, of shared solitude that spoke volumes of their bond.

As they sipped their coffee, the events of the night before and the promise of the days ahead lingered in their minds, a comforting reminder of the joys and challenges they had faced together and would continue to navigate side by side.

"I take you that you are not training today," Minato gently teased Ichika, who denied that part.

"I am not going to do that, brother. My body is killing me. But my head is clear. What about you?" Ichika's response, laden with the aftermath of yesterday's festivities, brought a knowing smile to Minato's face.

The serene morning outside offered a cool respite, a quiet moment shared between friends reflecting on the chaotic yet thrilling journey they had navigated together.

"You really are lucky with your friends. Hey, I meant to ask. Why do they call you the Northern Ashikabi?" Ichika's curiosity was piqued as he broached a topic that had lingered in his mind, the title 'Northern Ashikabi,' echoing with tales and legends surrounding Minato's involvement in the Sekirei Plan.

Minato's explanation unfolded like a map of strategic positions, highlighting the key players in Minaka's grand design.

"It all started with that Plan Minaka thought out. There were four powerful Ashikabi: Nishi Sanada, the guy you met last night. He was the Western Ashikabi, and Higa Izumi was from the East. Only with Sanada did I have some things going on. Mikogami was a spoiled brat, complex in nature, and a game freak."

His words painted a vivid picture of the chessboard that was the Sekirei Plan, each Ashikabi a king in their own right, vying for power, influence, and survival.

"I take you that you had a tough time with him." Ichika's comment, half jest, half genuine inquiry, delved deeper into the intricate web of alliances and rivalries that defined their world. The mention of Mikogami Hayato, a figure as complex as the games he revered, sparked a mix of amusement and reflection. It was a world Ichika was slowly unraveling, each story, each name adding layers to the rich tapestry of experiences that Minato shared with him.

"We weren't off to a good start. Despite all things, Mikogami at least got a shred of morality. Side me, he's also the only Ashikabi who winged Single Digits if you count out Miya and Karasuba, who Natsuo winged from MBI."

"Who's that? A Single Number, but she isn't around."

"I'll tell you another time. Miya is getting up. But first, back to Mikogami. I winged five Single Numbers. He got two. Number Five, Mutsu, and Number Seven, formerly Scrapped, Akitsu. He got them all now. He's looking for bits about the other ships. I am not the only guy who had some good development during those times."

Minato and Mikogami buried the hatchet and left each other alone. As long they paid off their debt, he could let Mikogami take his course in life. Funny. If the guy was less of a brat, Minato might have helped him out.

"So that's one guy. Higa?" Ichika asked, now interested.

"Don't call that name out loud. It's a person that's high on the crap list of both Uzume and Chiho. Not that I blame them. You want the details?"

"Spare me. Bad guy." Ichika just asked.

"Yep. Unlike Mikogami, whom I have contact with every so often, I prefer that he leaves me alone now. I can't guarantee that I won't swing at him when I see him."

A whistle escaped Ichika.

"There must be one guy to get you riled up. I'll keep that in mind. Mind if I make a count? Number One is Miya, if I believe you. Number Two and Number Three are Matsu and Kazehana, respectively. Number Five is Mutsu, you just mentioned. Number Six is Homura. Number Seven, as you said, is Akitsu. Come to think of it, what sort of Sekirei are those two?"

"Mutsu is using ground attacks. He's a pretty strong guy. I can work with him," Minato said, thinking about them.

"He's a man? Winged by another man?" Ichika wondered while Minato cringed. "Don't remind me. I bumped into him and Akitsu a while ago. She's also an elemental Sekirei who uses ice attacks. Well, the age of consent has been raised to 16. He's now sixteen. And I don't blame him. I doubt that I am in no position to make remarks."

He certainly didn't bother about it. Mikogami was now old enough.

"So Number Nine is Tsukiumi? I miss Number Four and Eight." Minato pointed a thumb to Musubi.

"Number Eight was Yume, a story that Musubi will have to tell you. I won't spoil it; that's one bad story. Number Four was Karasuba, a bloodthirsty psychopath without any morals. Not that I want to say that the girls you deal with are any better, but maybe Karasuba had one redeeming factor. She didn't lie about being a complete monster."

"Better to be known an honest sinner than a lying hypocrite, you mean? Brother, something else that came up in my head. I haven't seen Tabane since I went fishing. Your work? Like you telling me that the chance I wouldn't come home alive."

Ichika downed his coffee.

"I wonder why some people call you an idiot. You have a good head on your shoulders. Matsu scared her off. I think that, like some, she has no regard for human life. At least, my genius has other things to do."

"You mean to tell me that your smart girl is a complete pervert. Well, that makes it easier to deal with her, I suppose." Ichika joked at him while Minato glared at him.

"Who'd you take? Tabane or Matsu?" The Ashikabi asked in a friendly tone.

"I take your genius over Tabane every day of the week. But aren't you afraid that she will come after you?" Ichika was now worried.

"What is she going to do? Send an Infinite Stratos after me? The Sekirei can take that one out. Hack in our systems. Matsu can stop her. Show up at our doorstep. There are a few who would like to come after her. I would think I need to install a line. And she has to leave you alone, or your sis finds out about the stuff. I wonder why Chifuyu is even friends with her."

"You're asking me. I am not a fan of her. I get why Houki or Chifuyu get pissed at her. Either way, what are you going to do with that knowledge?"

"Nothing. It's above my paygrade. In the end, I live. The summer is going, the Silver Gospel is down, and Tabane tore a new one. So, any plans you have?" Ichika asked.

"There's a summer festival going. Musubi would love to go to." Ichika noticed the tone that his brother was using.

"Something up?"

"The hosts are the Shinonono family. They're relatives of a certain brunette who all know and used to love."

"I am not going near that," Ichika said in a deadpan voice after hearing that from Minato.

"Well, that was to be expected. Don't worry, though. The rest will stay here. Even if Houki finds the address, we have guards. And still. Besides, there is no telling if she is staying there." Minato pulled the guy in a sideways hug. Happy, the two stayed there.

Meanwhile, on a train.

Houki was looking at the photos she found in the attic. Ichika looked so cute in them. What had all happened during those times? Where had the time gone?

Why had he changed so much?

She never came to the idea that she might have been the one who changed.


I am happy that I had a decent end to it. We didn't get beyond a certain amount of words, and I am more than happy to end it here.

Funny thing. When I was doing this rewrite, I learned that the age of consent in Japan had been raised to 16. When I was writing the original chapter, it was 13. About damn time they changed.

It was quite a busy weekend here, but I am all too happy that I got Monday off, the first of April.

It's what it is.

I hope you all enjoyed it.

Saluut.