Hashimoto Arina had been on vacation until the weekend, and she knew the most important event Shirakawa Natsu had mentioned was the hot spring trip.What he didn't realize yet was that he had already been tricked.
"Sister Arina, I actually don't need a wheelchair. I can walk on my own."Sitting stiffly in the wheelchair, Shirakawa Natsu felt a wave of shame as the eyes of passersby flicked toward him.
Hashimoto Arina had insisted on bringing the chair, pushing him with a pouty stubbornness that made clear her dissatisfaction.Seeing him about to be discharged, she had refused to help him walk properly—determined instead to wheel him all the way to the gathering, ensuring that he'd immediately become the center of attention.
"Hmph. I don't want to touch you," Arina muttered, her lips pursed as she pushed him along with deliberate force. Her expression was sharp with indignation. "Say whatever you want, but I won't forgive you that easily."
"Sorry, Sister Arina…" Natsu murmured, stealing a glance at her from the corner of his eye. Her long black hair hung neatly over her shoulders. She wore a beige batwing top with a short skirt, silver earrings swaying against her cheeks.
As a doctor, she rarely wore jewelry, yet today she not only had earrings but also a touch of makeup.Her mouth said she didn't care—but her appearance told a different story.
"I often see families going to hot spring inns together on TV shows or in manga, but I've never actually been." Natsu's voice softened with longing as he gazed into the distance. "I want to take this chance to visit. Even if it's not with family… it's with you, Sister Arina."
Arina's feigned anger crumbled the moment she saw the yearning in his eyes.But the memory of declaring just moments ago that she wouldn't forgive him kept her from giving in completely. It would be far too embarrassing to fold immediately.
Wordlessly, she extended her hand, helped him up from the wheelchair, and whispered, "No more tricks in the future."
"Yeah." Natsu nodded obediently. He hadn't lied—he really had often seen those hot spring family trips in manga. The one that left the deepest impression on him was about three mothers and daughters traveling with a young boy…
When they arrived at the meeting point, the group was led by a chubby middle-aged man with glasses—Natsu's editor.
For some time, Natsu had been quietly disappointed that his editor wasn't a young woman in black-rimmed glasses and stockings.From everything he'd seen, seasoned manga artists usually had one of two kinds of editors: either fresh-faced, cute newcomers or cool, bespectacled women unfairly sidelined by their peers.He had always imagined the editorial office must be filled with such women. Instead, he'd been assigned… a balding, middle-aged man.
The editor greeted Natsu with an enthusiasm that bordered on excessive, calling him "sensei" again and again, bowing with almost comical zeal.
The group itself wasn't very large—only ten people in total, mostly Natsu's illustrators.When Natsu appeared, the others turned curiously to see the genius rumored to smash publishing records.
But their gazes quickly shifted to Arina.Talent, it seemed, couldn't compete with beauty.
Natsu then spotted a familiar figure in the crowd—her short ponytail and ruggedly handsome air unmistakable. She was chatting animatedly with the only attractive girl in glasses, making her laugh so hard she nearly doubled over.
"Mizuki! Why are you here?" Natsu hurried over and tugged at her leather jacket.
Arina's eyes flickered at the sight of Mizuki, remembering the scene she had witnessed on the hospital bed just two days before. Even if she hadn't confronted him about it, she had clearly seen them kiss. Wasn't this awkward?
Mizuki turned, frowned, and said matter-of-factly, "I'm your assistant. Of course I'm here."
Natsu was left speechless. It was so reasonable he couldn't argue.
"She's your biggest fan," Mizuki added, pointing to the bespectacled girl. "She keeps asking me about your process for creating a hit manga."
"Hello," Natsu said, extending his hand. The word "fan" echoed in his mind.He wasn't arrogant about it—he was just glad to finally meet someone who appreciated his work.
"Hello, sensei," the glasses girl replied politely with a smile. But then she turned straight back to Mizuki, peppering her with questions, her bright eyes ignoring Natsu entirely.
Watching the two of them, Natsu realized he was the odd one out.It was obvious she was just looking for an excuse to flirt.
"Pffft." Arina chuckled behind him.
Natsu turned sharply. "Sister Arina, you're laughing at me."
"No, no," she protested, covering her mouth. But her eyes curved into crescents, betraying her amusement. "I was just thinking of something funny."
From then on, she seemed to lose interest in staying angry with him.
"Everyone ready? Let's go!" The editor counted heads, then bellowed with cheerful energy.
They piled into a rented van and headed for the hot spring inn.By the time they arrived, the sun had set and dinner awaited them.
People in Japan were good at "reading the air." Over the meal, conversation flowed, and the awkwardness of strangers began to melt away.
Afterward, everyone returned to their rooms to change and relax.
Shirakawa Natsu and Hashimoto Arina had been assigned a double room in advance.The room was modest, with tatami flooring and futons tucked away in a sliding closet.
Since Arina had brought him along, she naturally felt responsible for looking after him.
"You could stay with the other women if you want, Sister Arina." Natsu scratched his head.
"Oh?" She narrowed her eyes slyly. "All right then, I'll just ask to switch rooms."
She reached for her small bag as though to leave.
"Wait." Natsu straightened up, putting on a serious expression. "That girl I just met… she doesn't seem very nice."
"Hmph." Arina tapped his head with a finger. "Turn around."
"Oh." He turned his back as instructed, hearing the soft "shff, shff" of fabric behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a corset on the floor.
"So… big…"
When he turned again, Arina was already in a bathrobe. Her long hair was tied back, exposing her pale, slender neck. The robe strained at her chest despite her tugging it higher, her collarbone visible above the fabric.
"Hurry up and change into your yukata," she scolded.
The "couple's hot spring" wasn't for romance or clichés lifted from manga.Arina simply wanted to be close in case his condition worsened.
When Natsu finally looked at her properly, he realized she wore a swimsuit beneath her robe—clearly prepared. But the straps dangled loosely, and the upper curves of her chest peeked out. The sight alone made the trip worthwhile.
Arina's peach-shaped figure floated slightly in the water as she stepped in.Natsu had imagined he'd see her gentle, shy side. But in reality, she was relaxed, almost teasing—while he, wrapped awkwardly in a bath towel, squirmed under her gaze.
"Were you expecting me to be shy?" she asked, eyes glinting with amusement.
"Can you stop staring?" he muttered, fumbling with his towel. The calmer she acted, the more flustered he became. Was she this experienced? But she had always seemed like a cheerful, pure older sister…
"Idiot," Arina said, easily reading his thoughts. "I'm a doctor. To me, these are just different shapes of tissue. They're not connected to sex."
"Uh… right." Natsu scratched his head, feeling foolish. He stripped off his towel quickly and slipped into the water.
The spring was small—two people soaking side by side left no space at all. Their shoulders and legs brushed together.
Natsu froze as his arm touched something soft. He glanced down.
Arina hastily grabbed a towel to shield her chest.
"Sister Arina, you just said these are only fat to you, with no connection to sex. Shouldn't you practice what you preach?"
"Hmph." She squinted at him, her voice steady. "That depends on who's looking—not me."
"That's a double standard. I won't allow it," Natsu shot back, reaching for the towel.
"You little brat!" Arina caught his hand in protest.
But in their playful struggle, his hand slipped—grasping something soft and yielding. His finger sank in.
He froze. She didn't resist. Instead, her face turned scarlet, her body stiff like a kitten grabbed by the scruff of its neck.
Natsu blinked, realizing something, and pressed a little firmer.
Arina's blush deepened until it looked as if her skin would bleed, her eyes glaring desperately. "Are you still not letting go?"
"Oh." He withdrew, a pang of regret mixed with a strange, guilty thrill.
The two soaked in silence after that, the air between them heavy and strange.
Natsu finally realized the problem: they were supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, exploring a relationship. Moments like this should have been sweet, even alluring—not awkward and stifling.
When he turned to look at her, he found her already gazing back.
And in that moment, both of them saw the truth reflected in each other's eyes.
Perhaps what they shared wasn't quite love, but something closer to affection.
Arina admired his courage in facing a cruel fate—something she herself lacked. She couldn't bear to face her own past: her childhood sweetheart who had forgotten her, married another, leaving her quietly depressed.
But meeting Natsu had given her the strength to step out of that darkness. She couldn't stand the thought of him leaving this world with regrets, so she had proposed they try dating.
Natsu, too, knew he had been drawn to her because of his own vulnerability. She was like a sister—or even a mother—caring for him tirelessly.
In the dim shadows of his life, she had lit a lamp.
They both gave and received exactly what the other needed most.And with the age gap between them, their bond felt less like romance and more like kinship.
Of course, since they weren't truly related, that bond sometimes… took on another shade.The same strange, forbidden thrill he had just felt.