Ookami-san Wa Taberaretai [OFFICIAL]

The autumn leaves had just begun to dust the forest path when Takeda Ryoichi first saw her.

She was leaning against the mossy base of an ancient cedar, one slender leg crossed over the other, a half-eaten onigiri pinched between her fingers. Her silver hair fell in a wild cascade over her shoulders, and two furry wolf ears twitched atop her head. A tail, thick and plush as a winter brush, curled lazily behind her. But it was her eyes that stopped him—golden, feral, and for a fleeting second, wide with alarm. Ookami-san wa Taberaretai

“Ookami-san,” Takeda said, turning to her with that quiet, unassuming smile. “Will you let me feed you for the rest of your immortal life?” The autumn leaves had just begun to dust

She let him carry her down the mountain, limp and warm in his arms, her nose buried in the crook of his neck. The village children saw them pass and whispered. The old women at the shrine crossed themselves. But Takeda just walked, one hand cradling her head, the other holding the nikujaga pot. That spring, the school principal found Takeda in the staff kitchen, stirring a huge pot of zoni while a silver-haired woman in an oversized sweater sat on the counter, feet dangling, stealing pieces of kamaboko . A tail, thick and plush as a winter

“So,” he said, pulling a small bento box from his backpack, “I made too much lunch. Ginger pork with a honey-soy glaze, tamagoyaki, and pickled daikon. It’s not subpar.”