By a rough estimate, the room was about fifty square meters.
There was only one separate bathroom, and the rest was an open-plan layout.
The bedroom, kitchen, and living room all shared the same space. She was lying on a bed made of six tatami mats, facing an old-model television set.
Shokuhou Misaki could say for certain—she had never been here before.
"This is my room."
"Looks like it really is."
But there was nothing to be concerned about.
Under normal circumstances, waking up in such an unfamiliar place would have instantly put her on high alert, scanning her surroundings for danger.
But now, there was no need.
Because the very first thing she saw upon opening her eyes was the man who could make her completely let down her guard—the man she could trust absolutely.
He would never harm her.
She could give him her full trust without hesitation.
"Tch, boring. So that's all it is."
Makoto curled his lip in disappointment and went back to sit in his chair.
Sitting up straight, then standing, she smoothed out the hem of her skirt, which had ridden up to the very edge of dangerous territory.
Her movements were unhurried yet fluid, carrying an elegance and grace from start to finish.
"So, judging by your expression, you were hoping I'd start screaming or blushing?"
Yes, that was exactly it.
All the inner monologue from the previous chapter was just fluff.
The whole "couldn't take Misaki back to her dorm because it was too late" excuse was completely fake.
Sure, Tokiwadai's dorms required a pass to enter—but sneaking in wasn't difficult at all.
There were plenty of routes to bypass the dorm supervisors and slip inside unseen.
As for "not knowing her dorm location"—that was pure nonsense.
The Leo armed group had been developing for three years. While its rank-and-file might not excel in combat, its intelligence-gathering abilities were exceptional.
And that was all thanks to Makoto's training.
If he wanted to know which dorm room Misaki lived in, that sort of barely-a-secret information could be on his desk in no time.
As for sneaking past the supervisor and into her room—
For someone skilled at using a grappling hook to move between buildings, it would be child's play.
So—!
The reason he brought Shokuhou Misaki here could only be one thing.
Naturally, to take off her clothes while she was still asleep and—XXOO…
…Nope, cross that out, wrong idea, don't get carried away.
The real reason was to see whether Shokuhou Misaki would panic and show a different side of herself when he brought her to his place.
That was his true intention.
So his disappointment was only natural—because Misaki's reaction could be summed up in just one word: flat.
"Where's my phone?"
Without any small talk, Misaki simply held out her small hand toward Makoto.
Makoto casually grabbed a white, very expensive-looking handbag from the table and tossed it to her.
"Remote, wallet, phone—whatever it was, I shoved it all in your bag. Shouldn't be missing anything."
"Mm."
Without checking for missing items, Misaki found her phone, closed the handbag, and immediately dialed a number.
"Water Tower Park."
"Yes, handle everything inside quickly."
"If there are any witnesses, detain them for now. We'll deal with the details at the lab tomorrow."
The call was brief—just a few words before she hung up, having given all the necessary orders.
"I was actually planning to stop by my dorm tonight, then head straight to the lab to stay over. After all, those bodies need to be dealt with as soon as possible. Too many people finding out would be… a bit troublesome."
Setting her phone aside, Misaki placed one hand on the tatami and stood up gracefully.
"But no helping it. Since you brought me here, I'll just push it to tomorrow. Mind if I borrow your bathroom? I feel all sticky and it's uncomfortable."
Barefoot, with her delicate toes touching the floor, she walked over to Makoto, tugging at her clothes with a faint frown on her golden-browed face, her lips slightly pursed.
"Haa—"
Letting out a long sigh, Makoto replied:
"There's disposable bath supplies in the bathroom cabinet. They're clean—just use those."
…
There was no bed in the room.
In a place like this, adding a bed would only make the already cramped space even more crowded.
So he usually just slept on a futon on the floor.
With Misaki here, that was what they would both be doing tonight.
"Though, I feel like I've been completely outplayed here."
There's a saying: If you're not embarrassed, the embarrassment falls on the other person.
He'd brought Misaki here just to see her flustered.
But now, here she was—calm and composed, even casually using his bathroom.
Honestly, he was starting to feel like the embarrassed one.
"Actually, I wouldn't call it 'outplayed.' It's just that, in front of certain people, a girl can let go of some of her reserve. Likewise, some things might make you feel shy or awkward in front of others… But in front of a certain someone, you might not feel that way at all."
As Makoto muttered to himself, a teasing voice floated into his ears.
Speaking as she emerged from the bathroom, Misaki came wrapped in a bath towel, her body still steaming with heat and moisture, golden hair dripping as she dried it with a towel in one hand.
She smiled at him and said:
"Otherwise, I wouldn't have borrowed your bathroom."
Lifting his gaze from the book in his hands, Makoto looked at her—the bath towel outlining every curve of her body—and shrugged.
This was as direct as it got. Misaki was making her intentions crystal clear.
But…
"Get some sleep. I'll take you back tomorrow morning."
It simply wasn't time yet—not for her, slightly impatient as she was tonight, nor for him, ever the calm one.
Both of them knew that perfectly well.