Looking down at Nozomi—who was resting his head on her lap with an infuriatingly peaceful expression—Yukinoshita Yukino felt a strange sense of unease stir inside her chest.
Why had she agreed to this shameless request?
More importantly, why was her heart thumping like a taiko drum at a summer festival?
This guy—Nozomi—was a scoundrel. A rogue. A menace in a uniform. He'd even threatened her just moments ago, boldly declaring that if she didn't offer her lap as a pillow, he would keep holding her in that unreasonably close, ridiculously indecent position.
And yet… here she was. Sitting still. Letting him rest on her legs like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Maybe she was getting used to this?
The last time, she had also given him a lap pillow, hadn't she?
A slow flush spread across her face as she glanced down at him again. His calm, content face... it looked so annoyingly handsome when he wasn't speaking. That only made things worse.
"I really don't want to come here anymore," Yukino suddenly muttered, her tone cold but clearly not firm enough to be convincing.
"Hm? Why?" Nozomi blinked open one eye, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he gazed up at her.
From where he lay, he could clearly see her delicate chin and fair, swan-like neck. The soft pink hue of her lips practically glowed under the sunlight streaming through the window. Her beauty was dazzling. It made his heart stir.
Yukino immediately covered his eyes with her slender fingers, cheeks tinged with cherry-red.
"Stop staring. You're not serious about anything."
"You promised me we'd open the treasure chest today. But instead, all you've done is bully me."
Her voice held a touch of grievance—though the fact that she hadn't shoved him off her lap completely betrayed her own conflicting emotions.
Nozomi let out a soft sigh, a bit exaggerated for dramatic effect.
"I'm sorry. It's just… Yukino is so cute. I can't help but want to get close to you."
"…Even if you say that," she huffed, looking away, "you're still a criminal. Using my cuteness as an excuse—what a degenerate thing to say."
Nozomi gently clasped the hand covering his eyes, his voice low and sincere. "Then let me be the worst degenerate in the world… but only for you."
"…Idiot." She didn't look at him, but her cheeks deepened another shade.
"If you're not in a rush to head back today," he murmured, "would you… stay a little longer?"
Her breath hitched. Her gaze flicked down briefly, then away. Then, almost in a whisper, she replied, "...It's not impossible."
The words were small. But they meant everything.
Their relationship had already moved past mere classmates, past clubmates, even past friends. She couldn't deny it anymore—not to herself. She'd let him rest on her lap, let him hug her, and he'd even stolen a kiss from her cheek once. All those moments lingered in her mind like petals caught in the wind.
And now, somehow, she had come to accept the idea that… maybe, just maybe, this rogue was her fiancé.
But ever since Yuki Suo had shown up—pretty, perfect, and completely devoted—Yukino couldn't shake off the unease blooming in her chest.
So, half-resentful, half-embarrassed, she'd granted Nozomi another lap pillow.
His hair lightly brushed against her thighs, sending tiny, ticklish shocks across her skin. The subtle heat of his breath, the weight of his head—it all made her heart flutter uncontrollably.
Without a word, he reached for her hand again, holding it in his larger one.
This time, she didn't resist.
Nozomi interlaced his fingers with hers, and Yukino, though flustered, didn't pull away. She let it happen.
Everything about this moment felt oddly natural. As if they'd always been like this.
But as she stared at their joined hands, warmth spreading to her ears, a sudden thought struck her like a kunai to the chest.
What would happen if Sayu or Mahiru came back and saw this? Saw her giving a lap pillow… in Nozomi's room?!
Her face lit up like a paper lantern, and she bit her lower lip.
"…Hey, Nozomi," she asked quietly, "do you… do you ever plan on going back to the Suou family?"
"The Suou family?" Nozomi tilted his head slightly in her lap, brows furrowing. "What for?"
"To become the heir, of course," she said matter-of-factly. "Weren't you once the shrine's successor?"
He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "That place threw me away a long time ago. Besides, the Suou family doesn't have you. Or Mahiru. Or Sakurasou."
"This place... this is home to me now."
Then, he smiled up at her.
"That's why I want you to come here often, too."
Yukinoshita Yukino gave him a sidelong glance, her eyes calm on the surface, but inside, her heart was tangled in a storm.
"So… do you really have to be this greedy?"
Before she could retreat or brace herself, Nozomi leaned in with the smoothness of a cat, placing his cheek against her lower stomach. His proximity, his warmth—his breath—it all tickled unbearably. Yukino instinctively twitched.
"If Yukino keeps spoiling me like this," Nozomi murmured with a content sigh, "I might just stay loyal forever."
Yukino didn't know how to respond. Words scattered in her mind like petals in the wind.
She knew her own body. Knew it too well. The congenital weakness she had carried since birth made her different—slower, more fragile. She wasn't someone who could run marathons or stay out in the snow too long. She was delicate. A glass butterfly.
And yet, despite all that, this idiot beside her—this shameless, overbearing idiot—never treated her as if she were breakable.
Maybe that's why her heart ached even more.
Even though she understood he would never give up his "dangerous ideas," she still couldn't stop the complaints from spilling out.
Why couldn't her fiancé look at only her with that kind of passion?
The mood between them grew a little heavier. Still resting his face against her abdomen, Nozomi exhaled again, and she felt the warmth seep into her skin.
"Don't come so close… it's itchy," she said, her voice just barely a whisper.
"Sorry," Nozomi chuckled, "but Yukino smells way too good. I can't help myself."
"Shameless! How can you say such things so casually? You're a molester! I should call the police!"
Instead of backing down, Nozomi just tightened his grip on her hand, lacing their fingers together.
"It's too late," he smirked. "I'm holding your hand hostage now. You'll never get the chance to call for help."
Yukino pouted, cheeks puffed in a display of noble displeasure. "Are you like this with Mahiru and the others too? This… this scoundrel act?"
"I'm only like this with Yukino."
"Liar! You're such a liar. Do you really think I'd believe that?"
Even as she accused him, Nozomi met her eyes with that maddening confidence. "Even if I'm lying… I still want to keep Yukinoshita Yukino by my side."
His words echoed in her chest, louder than they should have.
The heat on her face was undeniable. There was something so reckless, so stubborn in the way he spoke—like he'd set his eyes on her and decided that not even heaven or hell could stop him.
Her calm began to crumble.
This guy… just how far would he go for her?
Nozomi gently pushed away the hand she'd been using to shield her face, intertwining his fingers with hers again. His gaze locked onto hers, burning with an honest, if slightly delinquent, fire.
"I know I'm greedy. A rogue. Maybe even a scumbag."
"But I'm not joking when I say this—Yukino, please let me protect you."
"Protect, huh?" Yukino narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Are you sure you don't mean 'bully'?"
With a mischievous grin, Nozomi sat up and then suddenly swooped forward, pulling her into a loose embrace.
"I could never bully you, Yukino. If you really hated my touch, if you showed even a hint of serious resistance, I'd stop. I promise."
"You say that, but look at you—being a rogue even now!"
She tried to push him off weakly. "You said you'd stop after the lap pillow, didn't you? Liar. You're not keeping your word at all."
"The lap pillow's not over yet," he replied without shame, and in one swift motion, Nozomi flopped right back down, letting his head land squarely on her thighs again.
That stupid smirk returned to his lips.
Yukino resisted the urge to sigh dramatically.
"Honestly… you're hopeless."
Still, her hand rose on its own. Her slender fingers found his hair, and before she realized it, she was gently stroking through the dark strands.
In that moment, he seemed almost innocent.
As if her lap pillow really was a sacred place to him.
Then, breaking the silence, Nozomi asked out of nowhere, "Yukino, what do you think of Hayato Hayama?"
"Hayama?" Yukino raised an eyebrow. "Ugh. Annoying. Haven't spoken to him since elementary school."
"Why bring him up all of a sudden?"
"I just thought you should know—he's got his eyes on your older sister, Yukinoshita Haruno. Always has. Wants to win her over, eventually."
Yukino blinked, then rolled her eyes like a queen disinterested in peasant drama.
"Then he's already lost. Sister only acknowledges people she actually cares about. And Hayama's not one of them."