Chapter 7: The Current Shuten-dōji

After being entertained at Aiha’s residence, the next morning arrived—and even though it was not yet noon, the festival was already filled with heat and excitement.

Misaki was already seated, looking as though she could not wait for the sake.
Her usual cool expression was nowhere to be seen; her eyes were shining as she gazed at the bottle of Tengu sake.

At the adjacent table sat the opposing oni.
He looked quite young.

“I am—the reincarnation of Shuten-dōji!”

At his booming shout, the oni spectators erupted with excitement.
Cheers burst forth, loud enough to make the entire venue tremble.

The host announced the rules.
They were to drink at a pace of at least one cup per minute.
Whoever fell below that pace first would lose.

A young female tengu with white feathers—Suzuran—called out to Misaki.
“Misaki-sama, I’m looking forward to it.”

“I’m just here to enjoy my sake,”
Misaki replied, lightly waving her hand, her expression loosened.

“May your bout go well—”
Suzuran said with a smile, wishing her a good fight.

In the spectator seats prepared for this match, Yuka and Aiha were seated side by side in the very front row.

“So that oni is the one drinking?
The bigger oni next to him looks stronger, though.”
“That big one is the Former Shuten-dōji.
The Current one is a bit of a handful, you see—I called Misaki here to teach him a lesson.
If he loses to a human, perhaps he’ll calm down a bit.”
Aiha smiled with a mischievous look.

“So Misaki-san is finally Momotarō, huh…”
Yuka stared at Misaki, unable to contain her excitement.

The moment the oni host announced the start of the match, Misaki drained her first cup.

“Amazing! I could drink forever!”

She kept drinking with a beaming smile.
The oni, too, continued drinking at a torrential pace.

When the twentieth cup was finished, the oni’s hand suddenly came to a dead stop.
The hand resting against the glass began to tremble.

He glanced at the human beside him—and saw her still drinking with a smile.
Her complexion had not changed in the slightest.

Before anyone realized it—Misaki had finished her twenty-first cup.

“‘I could drink forever’… that’s, you know… a figure of speech…
you’re not… actually… supposed to drink… that much…”
Mustering the last of his strength, Shuten-dōji managed to get those words out—and then,
like a taut string snapping, he fell backward with a thunderous crash.

After that, Misaki kept drinking, clearly enjoying herself.
When she finished her thirtieth cup—

“Time limit exceeded. Shuten-dōji is disqualified.
…The winner: Misaki!”

Even after being declared the winner, Misaki continued to drink,
and the host turned the microphone toward her and asked for a comment.

“Oni really are weak to sake, aren’t they?”

There was no ill intent behind her words.
Just as Aiha had said, the oni went down with surprising ease.
From Misaki’s point of view, it had been nothing more than an honest remark.

Misaki had no way of knowing this, but Aiha—watching from the front row—was clutching her stomach, stifling her laughter.

The tengu in the audience were in an uproar, while the oni had fallen completely silent.

Even the oni host was left unsure of what to do; he fell into silence as well, darting his gaze around as if seeking help.

“Even if this is a festival, that’s not something I can just let slide!”

The large oni who had been pouring sake for the Current Shuten-dōji—the Former Shuten-dōji—lunged toward Misaki.
The host, who noticed it immediately, rushed in to stop him, but could not completely restrain his momentum.

Of course, Yuka saw it too.
She grabbed Aiha’s arm beside her—
“This is definitely bad…! Help her! Please! Hey—hey!”
She had gone pale, as if it were happening to her herself.

“Leave it to me.”
After lightly patting Yuka on the head, Aiha gave a small leap and landed in front of the Former Shuten-dōji.

“Losing is a fact, is it not? How disgracefully unwilling you are to accept it.”
A mocking smile played at the corner of her lips.
She went on, addressing the oni who was too enraged to find his words.

“Now, calm yourself. You drink, defeat this human—that should settle the matter nicely, should it not?
Or is it… surely not the case, but—do you lack confidence?”
She hid her mouth behind her feather fan and looked up at the oni, meeting his eyes from beneath her lashes.

“There’s no way I’d lose to a mere human. I’ll make you understand the difference between our kinds!
Hear me, woman! Tomorrow—face me in a match!”
He pointed a finger straight at her, a blatant declaration of war.

Misaki, who had simply kept drinking as Suzuran urged her on, had no idea what any of it meant.

“Misaki, tomorrow you’ll face this one in a match. Understood?”
Aiha explained the situation to Misaki. But—
“Why not do it now…? I want to drink sake.”
She said it casually, even as she drained her glass.

Stung by those words, the oni trembled with rage.
Seeing that, Aiha struggled to suppress her laughter, her shoulders shaking.

“…Don’t go making excuses when you lose.”

He gave off an air as though he might erupt at any moment, but forced himself to rein it in with sheer will and slammed himself down into his seat.

Misaki, unfazed by the commotion, kept drinking with the same unchanged smile.