The Novel's Extra- Returned Hero

Ritsuka's POV

Aoko and I were sitting at the bus stop, waiting. I couldn't help but glance at her...wearing her iconic red dress and boots, her long hair tied in a loose ponytail that now shimmered with chestnut brown under the sun. She looked alive—more alive than she had in Chaldea. Maybe this world gave her room to breathe.

We were heading out to buy clothes for her. After all, she couldn't wear my loose T-shirts and sweats forever... even if I did like the way she looked in them. That whole "casually wearing my clothes around the house" thing?

It gave me thoughts.

Dangerous thoughts.

Like, she's mine.

...Anyway.

As we walked through the lively street market, filled with the smell of grilled food, fruit juices, and the chatter of families, Aoko suddenly slowed her steps beside a stall.

"…I want to eat something first."

I blinked, then laughed. "Are you hungry? Oh yeah, I saw you staring at those skewered meats like a kid at a festival."

"Ritsuka!" she snapped, cheeks flushing bright red. "You can't just say something like that to a woman! I'm not one of your permanently-hungry Artorias, okay?! I haven't eaten anything since hopping between worlds just to reach you!"

"Okay, okay," I chuckled, hands raised. "I was joking. Don't worry, I'll cook for you every day from now on."

She turned away slightly, arms crossed, but I caught the little smile tugging at her lips. "What… no, I said I'd cook. I'm the older Senpai here, I can't just freeload off my adorable kouhai like that."

"We can share shifts."

Aoko turned to me, eyes narrowing, then softened. "…I see. That's fair. But I'll still be tasting your cooking whenever I can. After yesterday's meal, I seriously think you've got the soul of a househusband. You'd make a good wife."

"Wife?" I echoed, feeling my face heat up. Even Artoria Alter once said that... why does everyone say that...?

We reached a small open-air eatery just then, the smell of charred meat and spices making my stomach growl.

But before that, something caught my eye.

A small juice stall nearby was drawing in customers with its lineup of rainbow-colored fruit jars.

"First let's drink something cool," I said. "Choose one, Aoko."

She tilted her head, scanning the crooked, handwritten menu on the hanging wooden sign.

"…This one." She pointed to a juice blend—mango and lime.

"Nice pick. That one's sweet and sour. Two, please," I told the stall owner, digging into my wallet.

"Welcome!" the middle-aged woman beamed. Aoko stepped forward and raised her hand, attempting a polite tone.

"Could… um, could we get two of this 'favor juice'—wait, 'flavor juice'? Wait—gah, why are the Korean letters so bad to speak?!"

I chuckled and handed over the money before she picked a fight with the menu. "Here. Thanks."

The lady mixed the juice, pouring it carefully into bamboo cups with straws.

"You should drink it," I offered. I took a sip—cool, refreshing, tangy with just the right sweetness.

Aoko eyed me, then drank.

"…Oh?" Her eyes lit up. "This is actually good! Really good!"

She chugged it like a desert wanderer finding an oasis, and I swear, if I wasn't used to her anymore, I'd have been stunned.

"This juice is good, but," I said, watching her drain the last drop, "there's plenty of other tasty food. Let's visit all the food stalls."

Aoko wiped her lips with the back of her hand and grinned. "You're paying, right?"

"Of course."

"Good. I'll try not to bankrupt you. But I make no promises."

She smirked and then marched ahead like she was leading a battalion.

After I returned our empty cups to the juice stall's friendly owner, I guided Aoko away from the food stalls and toward the shopping street.

Though we only took a few bites from each food stall, the variety piled up quickly, and we were both full. I turned to ask her—

"Do you want to eat more?"

"I'm fine. I'm full, Ritsuka," she said with a satisfied sigh, her voice softer and more relaxed than before. It was kind of cute, seeing her like that—like a cat purring after a good meal.

"Good. Then, should we move to a different location? Let's go buy you some clothes."

Aoko blinked as if remembering for the first time. "Ah—right. Clothes. I forgot. Let's go. But, I really appreciate you spending money on me. I'll return the favor someday."

"You don't have to." I smiled at her. "I don't think I'm wasting money on you at all."

Aoko visibly flinched. "You—! You keep saying stuff like that so casually… as expected of you… smooth-talking womanizer!"

Her face turned red again, and she turned away, pretending to focus on a passing dog rather than face me. But her ears were just as red as her cheeks.

I didn't comment. I was having too much fun watching her squirm.

We arrived at the commercial district—a place known across Korea for its vibrant clothing scene and endless racks of fashion stores. I led Aoko into one of the higher-end boutiques where a young shopkeeper greeted us with a practiced smile.

"Welcome!"

I stepped into the store and turned to check on Aoko. She was looking around with a curious but uncertain gaze, eyes flitting over rows of dresses and accessories.

"Is there something you want?"

"Well…" Aoko scratched her cheek awkwardly. "I guess just a normal dress. Nothing flashy."

"Come on, choose something yourself," I said with a grin. "You shouldn't wear gloomy dresses. Who wears that kind of thing on our first date?"

"D-Date? I—this isn't—!"

"Isn't what?" I teased, stepping closer. "I mean, I am spending time with a beautiful woman, and she is also trying to impress me with her fashion choices, right?"

Aoko was frozen in place, blinking rapidly. Then—

"You… You're the worst," she muttered, holding her face like it was overheating. "Why are you like this today?!"

The shopkeeper chuckled nearby. "Such a cute couple. Boyfriend and girlfriend, right?"

Aoko jolted. "N-No—! We're not like—!"

I raised a hand to interrupt her flustered attempt at denial. "It's okay, let her think what she wants. Anyway, you should pick something and hand it to me."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because if you don't, I'm going to choose everything and make you try it all on."

That made her stiffen like I'd cast a petrification spell. "You wouldn't."

"I would."

"…Tch. Fine. I'll try one or two—but don't get carried away, you delinquent kouhai."

I grinned.

The shopkeeper came over again. "Actually, wouldn't it be fun if you chose for her, mister boyfriend?"

I nodded. "That's a great idea."

Aoko crossed her arms. "I didn't agree to that. You better not pick anything weird. If you do, I'll turn this whole shop into a crater."

I ignored the threat and made my way to the racks.

The store had everything: classy dresses, floral sundresses, long skirts, stylish jeans, and even some leather jackets that screamed 'Aoko' to me.

I pulled out a soft, flowing cream dress with subtle embroidery near the hem. Simple but elegant. Then I grabbed a pale blue summer blouse and a pair of white shorts.

"Here. Try these first."

Aoko stared at the clothes and then at me. "…You've got good taste. Scarily good taste. Wait—were you trained for this?!"

"Nope. I just know you."

She rolled her eyes and snatched the clothes. "Ugh, this is so annoying. Whatever. But don't peek. I will kill you."

"I'm not that kind of guy."

She headed toward the changing room, muttering under her breath the whole way.

A few minutes later, she stepped out.

My breath caught.

The cream dress hugged her frame lightly, swaying with her every step. Her hair was pulled to the side, and she looked—

"Staring already?" she said, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

"You look…" I swallowed. "Perfect."

"...Tch. That mouth of yours will get you in trouble someday," she murmured, but her fingers played with a loose strand of her hair. "Still... Thanks."

We spent nearly an hour trying different outfits. Aoko never said it directly, but her smile whenever I complimented her or her quiet little hums when she twirled in front of the mirror told me everything.

By the time we were done, she had a full bag of new clothes and an embarrassed expression.

"You're going to spoil me, you know," she said as we exited the shop.

"I don't mind. Spoiling you feels… right."

"...Shut up."

---

"Hey. Don't be angry," I said, waving a fork like a white flag in front of her.

We were seated in a cozy, warmly lit restaurant tucked into the corner of the shopping district. The scent of herbs and grilled meat filled the air. Soft instrumental music played in the background.

Aoko looked away with an exaggerated huff, resting her chin on one hand. She had changed completely since this morning—wearing a simple white dress that fluttered slightly when she moved, elegant low heels, and that wide-brimmed hat sitting next to her like a crown she'd only temporarily removed.

She looked like someone out of a magazine.

"If you'd just chosen your own clothes when I told you to, this wouldn't have happened," I pointed out.

"…Is that your reason for playing around with me like a doll?" she muttered, poking at her food with mock offense. Her fingers were fidgeting near the edge of the napkin, though. She wasn't really mad.

"No, since you're pretty, you look good in anything. That's why I got more excited than usual."

Aoko twitched. Her hands froze mid-fidget.

"…Of course I look good. I'm me." She turned slightly, but her face was already glowing faintly pink.

"But why a maid outfit, Ritsuka?" Her tone sharpened.

"Sorry, Aoko. I just really wanted to see you in it," I said with a shrug. "But you didn't let me."

"It was embarrassing to wear it," she replied bluntly—and then quickly looked down into her glass.

What she didn't know I knew was that she secretly bought that exact maid outfit while I was paying at the register. I saw the receipt tucked under her shopping bag.

She would wear it eventually. I was sure of it.

"And it wasn't just me," I added, leaning back. "That shopkeeper basically became your accomplice."

When I had first suggested outfits, she stood by, politely watching. But once Aoko started trying things on, the shopkeeper jumped in like she was running a full-blown fashion show, handing us pieces faster than I could process.

"I should've kicked her before I left," Aoko muttered with venom—but I saw the faint tug of a smile on her lips.

"Come on. I took my turn too, remember? I was your dress-up doll for like 3 hours."

"…Hmph. And I was kind enough not to pick the cat ears hoodie."

"I saw that in your hands. You were this close."

She looked away and tried not to laugh.

"But really," I said, stabbing a piece of grilled chicken, "that shopkeeper was terrifying. She never slowed down."

"She smelled profit. Or maybe she just thought we were too fun to leave alone."

"Still, she had a good eye. You ended up with great clothes."

"…So did you," she said casually, not looking at me. "You looked… fine."

"'Fine?'" I raised an eyebrow. "That many girls asked for my number. You almost vaporized one of them with a glare."

"That was her fault. Who walks up to someone's boyfriend right in front of them?" Aoko sipped her water with an innocent look, but her foot tapped the floor like she was still annoyed.

"…Boyfriend?" I echoed quietly, watching her carefully.

"H-Hypothetically!" she quickly snapped, her voice rising. "Don't get full of yourself, Fujimaru-kun."

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face said everything."

I laughed and took another bite of my meal. I caught her glancing at me from across the table, watching with half-narrowed eyes and the barest smile tugging her lips.

By the time we finished eating, the sun had dipped lower in the sky. A soft golden light spilled through the window beside us, painting everything in warm hues.

We stepped out of the restaurant and into the open air.

The lamplights had come on, lining the sidewalks like tiny stars against the purpling sky. The air had cooled from earlier and now carried the scent of distant flowers and fried food stalls starting up again.

"…This town looks different at night," Aoko said softly beside me.

"It does. The lights make it look... gentler."

She nodded.

The crowds had thinned. Some couples strolled with their hands loosely intertwined. Others sat on benches eating taiyaki or soft-serve ice cream.

I glanced at Aoko walking next to me, her shopping bag gently swinging and her expression unguarded in the twilight.

"…Are you tired?" I asked.

"No." She tilted her head up toward the sky. "I'm happy. It's been a long time since I just... hung out with someone like this."

"Since Chaldea?"

"Even there... I never had time to do this kind of thing. I always ran ahead, didn't I?" she said, her voice quieter.

"You always stood on the front lines. Even if I told you to rest, you wouldn't listen."

"Exactly." She chuckled. "But today, walking with you, eating with you, trying clothes with you... it felt stupidly normal. And I liked it."

My chest tightened a little at her honesty.

"Then let's do it more," I said. "Not just today. Whenever you want."

Aoko turned to me, blue eyes wide for a moment. Then she smirked.

"Bold of you to assume I'll wait for your invitation next time."

"…You mean you'll drag me out?"

"Exactly." She reached out and flicked my forehead with a grin.

"Should we finish our date with a drink?"

As I said that, I looked around and spotted a vending machine glowing faintly in the dusk, a bright red Coca-Cola logo standing out like a beacon.

Aoko tilted her head slightly, eyes gleaming with that dangerous glint I'd come to recognize far too well.

"Oh my… what are you planning to do after making me drunk, Fujimaru-kun?" Her tone was deliberately sultry, the corners of her lips curling up like a fox laying a trap. "I can't believe you became so bold. Was this your real goal all along?"

"Wha—?! No! It's just soda!"

"Hahaha~ You're so cute when you panic like that," she laughed, holding her stomach as her shoulders shook. "You always go bright red when I tease you. Adorable."

"…You've gotten more evil since Chaldea," I muttered, though I couldn't help smiling.

I walked over and bought two cans from the machine, handing one to her. The chill from the can contrasted with the warmth of her fingers as they brushed mine.

We sat down together on a bench nearby, the cityscape painted in soft twilight hues.

We popped the cans open with a quiet pshh, and sipped the sweet fizzy drink.

Without realizing it, we'd ended up on a full-blown date.

Aoko exhaled softly, glancing toward the city lights beyond the trees. The breeze brushed her brown hair across her cheek.

"…I've never been this happy in a long time," she said, voice gentler than I'd ever heard it. "Ritsuka… Thank you. I won't forget today."

I looked at her, taken off guard by her sincerity. That rare glimpse beneath her usual confident bravado.

"I won't forget it either," I said. "I'm glad that… my first real date in this world was with you, Aoko."

She looked down quickly, brushing her hair back behind her ear with more force than necessary.

"…Y-You idiot. You're still saying embarrassing stuff without hesitation." But she smiled behind her words.

There was a brief pause. A comfortable one.

Then—

"…Hey, Ritsuka," she said, narrowing her eyes at me. "Who's Robin?"

I blinked.

"Huh?"

"I saw this name attached to some figures. You know—Robin figures. Posters. Even little toy keychains at the game stall. Kids were shouting, 'Robin's the coolest!' while swinging toys with lancer. But The lancer weapon on toys caught my eyes. I can definitely say it's holy spear Rhongomyniad "

I froze with the can halfway to my lips.

My heart skipped.

She found out.

"I… uh… It's…"

She leaned in with interest. "Don't tell me… is Robin your secret identity?" Her tone turned dramatically theatrical, mimicking a movie trailer voice. "The Night Hunter who fights demons when the moon rises…"

I sighed and looked around.

No one nearby.

I leaned in slightly and spoke in a low voice.

"…Yeah. Robin's me. It's short story. So I will say Quickly."

Aoko blinked once, then grinned like a cat.

"The story goes 3 years back and how I started Robin journey"

---

Note: How is the date?

Robin is another avatar/secret identity of Ritsuka who uses Lancer and Avenger flames. You will learn more in next chapter.