Ookami-san Wa Taberaretai ⟶ [EXTENDED]

The wolf-goddess—her name, she grudgingly admitted later, was Ookami no Mikoto, though she allowed him to call her “Ookami-san”—narrowed her eyes. “So?”

He set the box on a flat stone and stepped back. The wind carried the scent of caramelized meat and sesame oil. Ookami-san’s ears swiveled forward. Her nose twitched. Her tail, betraying her utterly, began to wag. Ookami-san wa Taberaretai

Her tail gave a single, traitorous wag. Then another. Ookami-san’s ears swiveled forward

Takeda held up his hands. “Just a lost hiker. And… you dropped your rice ball.” Her tail gave a single, traitorous wag

He cooked for her properly after that. Not just leftovers, but real meals: katsu curry with a soft-boiled egg, nabeyaki udon in a clay pot he hauled up the mountain, even mochi she could roast over a fire. She ate with her hands, tore into meat with those impressive fangs, and sometimes—just sometimes—let out a low, rumbling sound that might have been a purr.

Takeda adjusted his glasses. “If you’ll let me.” The days turned into weeks. Takeda climbed the mountain path each evening after school, a warm obento in his bag, and found her waiting at the cedar. At first, she refused to eat in front of him—turning her back, growling if he moved too close. But one rainy afternoon, when his umbrella tore and he arrived soaked and shivering, she wordlessly tugged him under the cedar’s wide canopy, wrapped her tail around his shoulders, and muttered, “Don’t get pneumonia, idiot. Then who would feed me?”