Chapter 164: Camping by the Stream (Patreon)

Saturday morning, the sky over Okizome Town was far bluer than Tokyo's.

A somewhat aged van pulled up at the entrance to the valley behind the mountain.

Ryohei had borrowed it from the owner of the grocery store where he worked part-time; the words "Yamamoto Store" were still printed on its side.

"We're here! Everyone! Welcome to my secret base!"

Ryohei hopped down from the driver's seat and spread his arms wide, striking an exaggerated pose as if embracing nature itself.

The door slid open, and Akira was the first to jump out. She wasn't wearing her shrine maiden robes today—she'd changed into shorts and a T-shirt, easy to move in, and looked more energetic than usual.

"Wow, the air here is amazing!" She took a deep breath.

Nao and Ichiyo climbed out after her.

Nao carried a large bento box, while Ichiyo had a professional-looking outdoor backpack slung over her shoulders.

Shido Makoto was the last one out of the van. He helped Sora down first, then turned to start unloading the trunk—a tent, folding table and chairs, a barbecue grill, a cooler packed with ingredients, and several large bags of charcoal.

"Makoto, let me help!"

Ryohei bounded over noisily, trying to take the biggest tent out of Shido Makoto's hands.

"You sure about that?" Shido Makoto glanced at him.

"Are you kidding? I'm an outdoor expert!" Ryohei thumped his chest.

"Today I'll show you all what Nakazato Ryohei's wilderness survival skills look like!"

Sora, clutching her rabbit plush, found a clean patch of grass and sat down. She shot Ryohei a flat glance without a word—but her eyes spelled out "idiot" as plainly as if she'd said it.

Everyone hauled the supplies over to a flat spot by the stream.

The scenery really was lovely—the stream ran clear to the bottom, its smooth round pebbles visible beneath the surface.

"All right, step one—set up camp!"

Ryohei tore open the tent's packaging with great fanfare and dumped everything out onto the ground.

A pile of poles in various colors, several coils of rope, a waterproof tarp, and a bag of tent stakes.

"Watch closely. This tent's an imported model I paid good money for online—automatic pop-open... wait, no, I mean rapid-assembly system." Ryohei picked up the instruction manual and began studying it.

The manual was entirely in English, accompanied by some complicated structural diagrams.

Akira leaned over for a look, then burst out laughing without mercy. "Ryohei, can you even read that? Don't put the tent up inside out."

"Quiet! I'm getting a feel for it!"

Ryohei flipped the manual over and over, then picked up two poles of similar color and tried to fit them together.

Click.

They didn't connect.

He tried a different angle.

Click.

Still no luck.

"That's weird... this clasp is facing the wrong way..." Ryohei scratched his head, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

Ichiyo couldn't stand watching anymore. She walked over. "Let me take a look."

She took the manual and studied it carefully.

She read closely, brow furrowed slightly.

About five minutes later, she pointed to a section of the diagram. "It says here the A-poles connect to the B-joints. You're holding two A-poles."

"Oh! So that's it!" Ryohei's face lit up, and he immediately started rummaging through the pile.

It took him another five minutes to find the right pole, and after a huge struggle, he finally got the first frame section assembled.

"See! I told you it was easy!" He wiggled his eyebrows smugly at Akira.

Akira crossed her arms, grinning. "Sure, easy with Ichiyo's help."

Ichiyo's cheeks flushed slightly.

She kept reading the manual, directing Ryohei. "Next, insert this cross-joint into the center of the frame."

Ryohei fumbled through the motions, and in his clumsiness the frame he'd just assembled clattered apart again.

"Ah!" Ryohei let out a pained cry.

Akira laughed so hard she doubled over, rolling on the grass.

Nao couldn't help covering her mouth and laughing too.

Ichiyo stared at the manual full of technical jargon in her hands, then at the messy pile of parts on the ground. For the first time, the ever-confident young lady began to doubt herself.

Was something wrong with her comprehension? Why did these words, put together, make no sense to her at all?

Sora had just been quietly watching the whole time. She'd known it would turn out this way.

Shido Makoto sorted all the ingredients into their proper places, then checked the surrounding area, confirming there were no signs of snakes or insects.

Only after finishing that did he walk over to the pile of tent parts.

He looked at Ryohei, drenched in sweat and at a total loss, and at Ichiyo's frustrated expression, and finally sighed.

"Move."

Ryohei looked like he'd been granted a pardon and scrambled aside. "Makoto, you do it, you do it. This tent's designed like it hates humanity."

Shido Makoto pulled a pair of gloves from his own backpack and put them on.

He didn't even glance at the manual—one sweep of his eyes over the parts on the ground and he had it mostly figured out.

He crouched down, his hands sorting swiftly through the pile of parts, quickly grouping the poles by color and model.

He picked up a main pole, grabbed a connector with his other hand, gave his wrist a twist, and snapped them together perfectly.

The tent took shape in his hands at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Ryohei's jaw dropped, his eyes wide as saucers.

"He... he doesn't need the manual?"

Akira stopped laughing too, staring at Shido Makoto in astonishment.

The Makoto she knew had always been capable, but she'd never known he was this good even at pitching a tent.

Ichiyo watched Shido Makoto's profile—his focus intense, his eyes calm, as if the task before him were the simplest thing in the world. That sense of focus and reliability stirred something unnameable inside her.

In under five minutes, Shido Makoto had assembled the frames of both tents, standing them firmly on the grass.

Next came anchoring the tents.

Ryohei had just spent half an hour failing to drive a single stake into ground that was only slightly hard, bending it crooked every time.

Shido Makoto picked up a stone from the streamside. He went to a corner of the tent, pulled the guyline taut, angled a stake into the ground, and raised the stone.

Thud! Thud!

Two strikes and the stake was set firmly in the ground.

Ryohei was completely dumbstruck. He decided his so-called title of "outdoor expert" really belonged to Shido Makoto instead.

At some point Sora had gotten up and walked over to Shido Makoto's side. She pulled a clean handkerchief from her pocket and held it out to him.

He took it naturally and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

The corners of Sora's mouth curled up slightly—unmistakable pride.

As if announcing to everyone: Look, this is my brother. He can do anything.

This small gesture of hers, witnessed by Ichiyo and Akira nearby, stirred an indescribable feeling in both of them.

Shido Makoto hadn't just pitched both tents quickly and well—he also pulled a folding entrenching tool from his backpack.

Following the lay of the land, he dug a shallow drainage ditch all the way around the tents.

"What's that for?" Ryohei asked, puzzled.

"In case it rains tonight, it'll keep water from pooling back into the tents," Shido Makoto explained without turning around.

Once he'd finished the ditch, he took out a packet of white powder and scattered it evenly around the tents.

"And what's that?" Akira asked curiously.

"Powder to keep snakes and insects away—a mix of sulfur and some herbs."

Only after finishing all this did Shido Makoto brush the dust off his hands and survey his work.

Two dark green tents stood neatly side by side, guylines pulled taut and straight, stakes firmly set, surrounded by a professional ring of drainage ditches and protective powder.

This didn't look like a camping trip—it looked like a special forces field outpost.

Everyone stared at the near-perfect campsite, then at Shido Makoto's calm expression, and once again their sense of who he was got rewritten.

Ryohei walked up to Shido Makoto, gazing at him with open admiration, his mouth opening and closing without producing a single word for a long moment.

Finally, he solemnly clapped Shido Makoto on the shoulder. "Makoto... you're the real wilderness survival master!"

Shido Makoto glanced at him, saying flatly, "Now we can go prepare the ingredients for lunch."

With the camp set up, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Ryohei gave up entirely on trying to show off and happily became the assistant, helping set up the folding table, chairs, and barbecue grill.

Nao opened the bento box she'd brought, revealing rice balls and tamagoyaki she'd made herself that morning.

"Everyone should eat something to tide themselves over," she said gently.

"Wow, Nao's rice balls are the best!" Akira cheered, grabbing one and popping it into her mouth.

The air by the stream carried a crisp coolness. Ichiyo decided to wash her hands before taking a rice ball.

She walked to the water's edge, picked out a stone that looked fairly flat, and crouched down.

The stream water was icy cold against her fingers—refreshing.

Just as she finished washing and was about to stand, the stone beneath her feet suddenly slipped.

Its surface was covered in slick moss, and she was caught completely off guard.

"Ah!"

Ichiyo cried out as her body tipped backward, out of control.

Behind her lay a pile of jagged rocks that had tumbled down from the mountainside.

If she landed on them hard, the consequences didn't bear thinking about.

Ichiyo's mind went blank; all she could do was watch helplessly as she fell toward the dangerous rocks.

At that critical instant, a dark shape shot forward like lightning.

A powerful arm swept around her waist in an instant, holding her tight.

Her fall stopped short.

Ichiyo found herself pulled entirely into a solid embrace.

Still shaken, her heart pounded wildly in her chest, as if it might leap out through her throat.

A faint scent of mint lingered at her nose—a scent she knew well. It was Shido Makoto's.

She slowly opened her eyes to find Shido Makoto's sharply defined profile before her.

His brow was slightly furrowed, his eyes reproachful.

"Don't you watch where you're walking?"

With one arm, Shido Makoto effortlessly hauled her back from her tilted fall and set her steadily on her feet.

His broad palm, even through the thin fabric of her clothes, radiated heat that felt like it might scorch her skin.

"Th-thank you."

Ichiyo's cheeks flushed crimson instantly. She lowered her head, not daring to meet Shido Makoto's eyes, her heart still hammering.

"Watch your footing next time." Shido Makoto released his arm from around her waist.

He turned to head back to camp, only to feel his arm suddenly yanked back by some force.

He looked back to find Sora had run over at some point.

Like a kitten whose territory had been invaded, she clung tightly to his arm, eyeing Ichiyo warily.

"Makoto, it's time to eat lunch."

Shido Makoto glanced at Sora, then at Ichiyo, still standing there with flushed cheeks, and seemed to understand something.

"Got it."

He gave the answer and let Sora drag him back toward the campsite.

Farther off, Akira and Ryohei had also witnessed the whole scene.

"Whoa, hero saves the damsel," Ryohei murmured, wiggling his eyebrows.

Akira elbowed him. "Don't say weird things! Still, Makoto's reflexes are insane. I didn't even see how he got over there."

"Yeah, it was like teleportation." Ryohei stroked his chin, looking thoughtful.

"I'm more and more convinced Makoto isn't a normal person."

Ichiyo stood by the stream for a while, splashing the cold water on her hot cheeks before slowly walking back to camp.

She picked up a rice ball but barely tasted it, her mind still full of the feeling of being held in Shido Makoto's arms.

The mood at lunch had turned a little awkward because of the incident.

Sora stuck to Shido Makoto's side the whole time, like some kind of accessory, "auditing" with her eyes every single word anyone said to him.

Ichiyo, meanwhile, was somewhat distracted, occasionally sneaking glances at Shido Makoto before quickly looking away again.

Only Ryohei and Akira, the two thick-skinned ones, kept bickering over which rice ball flavor was best.

After the simple lunch, Ryohei perked back up.

"Everyone! Rice balls alone won't cut it! This afternoon, I'm going to let you all taste the freshest grilled stream fish!"

He pulled out a professional-looking fishing rod from his gear.

"You sure you can do this?" Akira eyed him skeptically.

"Just watch!"

Full of confidence, Ryohei rigged the line, baited the hook, found a spot where the current ran slow, and cast the rod.

"Quiet! Fishing requires absolute silence!" He made a solemn shushing gesture at everyone.

And so the next hour by the stream turned into a long wait.

Ryohei sat on his little folding stool like a statue, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the bobber floating on the water.

Akira and Nao sat nearby, chatting quietly.

Ichiyo took out a book to read, though her gaze kept drifting toward the water.

Shido Makoto leaned against a tree, eyes closed as if dozing.

Sora sat beside him, playing on her phone, occasionally glancing up to make sure he hadn't wandered off.

An hour passed.

Ryohei's bobber didn't move at all.

"Weird... are the fish just not biting today?" he muttered.

Another half hour passed.

The bobber still didn't budge.

Sweat began beading on Ryohei's forehead again.

The boast he'd made was clearly about to fall flat.

"Ugh..."

He finally sighed, saying dejectedly, "Looks like we're not getting grilled fish today after all."

"Knew it," Akira quipped without mercy.

Ryohei let out a wail. "How could this be! I picked out the best bait!"

Just then, Shido Makoto—who'd been resting against the tree with his eyes closed—suddenly opened them.

He stood, pulled off his light jacket, and tossed it casually onto the grass.

Underneath he wore only a black utility vest, his arms lined with lean, powerful muscle—not the exaggerated bulk built in a gym, but something built for explosive strength.

He walked straight toward the stream.

"Makoto, what are you doing?" Ryohei asked, confused.

"Don't you want to eat fish?" Shido Makoto replied flatly.

Everyone's eyes turned to him.

"Are you going to fish too? But we only have one rod," Nao said.

Everyone assumed he'd go get a net or some other tool.

Shido Makoto walked to the water's edge and stopped.

He stood on a rock jutting above the surface, gazing down at the clear water.

His eyes turned unusually sharp, as if they could pierce through the glare on the surface and see everything beneath.

It was dynamic vision honed through countless dungeons, enhanced by rewards until it far exceeded normal human limits.

In his sight, the flow of the stream seemed to slow, and the fish swimming below appeared clearly in his mind, every flick of every scale visible.

He locked onto a fish drifting through a gap between stones.

It was a plump stream fish, some twenty-odd centimeters long.

That was the one.

The next instant, Shido Makoto's right arm shot into the water like a spring released from full tension!

A splash—water sprayed everywhere.

His movement was lightning-fast; no one caught how he'd done it.

When his hand emerged from the water again, everyone was stunned.

Clutched in his fist was a big fish, thrashing wildly alive!

The fish struggled fiercely in his grip, its tail slapping the water and flinging up strings of droplets.

But Shido Makoto's hand was like an iron clamp, giving it no chance to escape.

Ryohei's mouth hung open wide enough to fit an egg.

Akira's eyes went round as saucers.

Bare-handed... fish catching?