Konoko froze, her breath caught halfway in her chest as the sliding door creaked open. The morning light spilling into the room only sharpened the shame that burned across her face—her hand was still tucked inside her loose shirt, fingers resting near the warmth of her chest, where comfort had turned into something more complicated. She yanked her arm back in a nervous twitch, but it was too late.
Gramps stood at the doorway, stretching lazily, hair a mess from sleep. His eyes skimmed the room, then landed on her—yet his expression carried nothing but casual calm. He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a little chuckle.
"Morning, Konoko. I was thinking… you've been doing that yoga thing, right? Would you mind teaching me sometime? My joints are so stiff these days."
Her heart was hammering, every beat echoing in her ears.
Didn't he notice? Was he pretending not to? Or was he simply unaware of the storm inside her?
The heat lingering in her chest, the damp thrum of her body, only made her feel more exposed.
The warmth lingering in her chest, the tension in her limbs — it made her feel exposed in ways she couldn't explain. She quickly forced a polite smile, trying to steady her voice though it wavered.
"Y-yoga…? Ah… o-of course… maybe later, Gramps."
He grinned, oblivious, and shuffled off toward the kitchen, muttering something about tea.
Konoko sat there trembling, her shirt still slightly wrinkled where her hand had been moments before. Her skin tingled with aftershocks, her thoughts a tangled mess of sweet humiliation, relief, and something deeper she dared not name.
Konoko rolled out the mat on the wooden floor, trying to steady her breathing. Every time she glanced at Gramps stretching stiffly beside her, she felt a nervous twist in her stomach. The memory of what had just happened lingered—not the act itself, but the way her body had responded.
Her hand under her shirt, the pulse of warmth in her chest, and the sharp terror of being seen.
She forced a little laugh, hoping it would mask her unease.
"W-we'll start with something simple, Gramps. Just follow my lead, okay?"
He nodded eagerly, lowering himself down with a grunt. "Simple's good. My knees aren't what they used to be."
Konoko slipped into a basic seated pose, spine long, hands resting lightly on her knees. She guided him through the motions, her voice soft and careful. But every time she demonstrated a stretch—arms lifting, chest opening—she felt the echo of her own sensitivity, the way her body still hummed from earlier.
When she leaned forward in a stretch, her shirt tugged against her curves, and she caught his eyes flick briefly—not lingering, not suggestive, just a glance — but her heart still raced.
Does he notice how strange I feel? Does he sense something's wrong?
Gramps let out a groan as he tried to mimic her pose. "Hah! This body isn't as flexible as it used to be. You make it look easy, Konoko."
She bit her lip, forcing a small smile. "Y-you're doing fine. J-just… remember to breathe."
But it was her who was struggling to breathe. Each shift of her body sent sparks across her nerves, her chest too tender, her skin prickling with every motion. Teaching yoga—something that should have been calming—now felt like torture, like balancing on the edge of being exposed again.
Gramps wobbled, one leg folded awkwardly while the other stuck out at an odd angle. He gave a breathless laugh, scratching the back of his head.
"Eh… I don't think I'm doing this right. Konoko, could you… maybe fix my posture?"
Her stomach dropped. She froze, hands pressed against her knees. The idea of touching him while her body still hummed from earlier—it made her throat tighten. But his expectant eyes, warm and guileless, left her no space to refuse.
"O-okay… just a little adjustment," she murmured, shuffling closer.
Her palms hovered, trembling in the air before finally landing on his shoulders. The heat of his body seeped into her hands, and the sudden contact made her shiver. She pushed gently, guiding him to straighten his spine.
"B-breathe in… slow…" she whispered, though her own breath came in stuttered gasps.
When she leaned in to correct his arms, her sleeve brushed against her own chest, and the sensation nearly broke her. Her skin was still too raw, too responsive. Not now… please, not now…
Gramps didn't seem to notice her flinch. He only chuckled. "Better already! You've got good hands, Konoko. Calm, steady."
She forced a strained smile, her insides in chaos. Steady? If only he knew…
As she pulled back, her legs nearly tangled with his. For a heartbeat, she thought he'd notice the faint redness in her face, the way her hands trembled—but he only exhaled in relief, stretching his back.
Konoko stepped back, her breath uneven, trying to shake off the lingering burn in her skin. Gramps stretched, arms above his head, a long groan rolling from his throat.
The fabric of his loose pants shifted with the movement—her gaze fell without her permission, locking onto the unmistakable outline pressing against the cloth. Even soft, it bulged heavy, too large, impossible to ignore.
She turned away quickly, trying not to notice the way his clothes shifted with the movement. Her pulse slammed into her ears. Heat rushed from her chest to her stomach, then lower, like sparks dancing under her skin. She stiffened, swallowing hard.
No. Don't look. Don't think about it.
But her eyes betrayed her, flicking back, catching the sway of it each time he moved. A tremor ran up her spine, every nerve alive with raw electricity. Her thighs pressed together on instinct, as though trying to contain the reaction she couldn't control.
Gramps sighed with satisfaction, completely oblivious. "Ahh… stretching really does wonders. I should've done this years ago."
Konoko forced a thin smile, her voice barely a whisper. "Y-yeah… years ago…"
Her heart wouldn't calm. The image burned itself into her mind no matter how hard she tried to focus on anything else.
Konoko's arms trembled as she tried to hold the pose, stretching forward with her balance wavering. Her legs shook, her breath short, and then—
She slipped.
With a startled gasp she toppled backward, landing squarely in Gramps's lap. The impact made a dull thud, her soft body pressing down onto him.
Her entire body froze. Heat shot through her in a violent wave as she realized how close she was. The proximity, the pressure — it overwhelmed her.
The outline she had tried so hard not to think about was now firmly beneath her, solid against her through the thin barrier of fabric.
Her lips parted but no sound came out. Her heart hammered in her throat, her breath shallow.
Gramps chuckled lightly, as if it were nothing at all. "Careful there, Konoko! Yoga takes balance, heh." His hands hovered awkwardly, not quite touching her, his tone still light and warm.
But she couldn't move. Every nerve in her body screamed at once, her skin prickling, her thighs tightening unconsciously around the pressure below. The seconds dragged like eternity.
Get up. Move. Say something.
But she was paralyzed, caught between shame and a current of raw, uncontrollable energy racing through her veins.