As Busujima Saeko suddenly reached out her hand, the air inside the room seemed to freeze.
Their eyes locked at close range.
For a brief moment, even she seemed flustered, yet she made no effort to explain away the oddness of her action.
She said nothing—silence itself was consent.
Minamoto Senya found his thoughts wandering. It had been nearly two hours since he brushed his teeth, and according to research, oral bacteria wouldn't start multiplying heavily until after three… so it should be fine.
Perhaps a strange thought for the moment, but he needed something trivial to keep his restless nerves in check. After all, here he was—alone, at night, in a secret rendezvous with Saeko.
Though, maybe not so trivial after all…
"Come, sit down," Senya said. His voice came out unexpectedly hoarse, as if parched.
The bedroom wasn't as spacious as the living room, and there were no chairs or sofas—just a simple futon laid out.
So naturally, the place he gestured to was his own bedding. At this hour, fetching a cushion from the closet wasn't necessary.
Saeko nodded softly and sat. Beneath her folded legs, she could still feel the faint warmth he had left behind, and her heartbeat quickened.
Strangely enough, even doing sit-ups in front of Utaha earlier hadn't made her this nervous…
Outside, the moon hung high, the distant mountains standing still in the night.
A bird swept low through the sky, wings slicing the silence before all went still again.
"…The night is beautiful," she murmured.
Senya sat cross-legged beside her. The distance between them was no more than the space of two fists.
Normally, the two of them could talk about anything. But now, for some reason, restraint made the air tight, the silence heavy.
Instead of diving straight into the matter, Senya chose the safest of openers. "It really is. You don't see skies like this in Tokyo. We owe this trip to Eriri."
Saeko shared his hesitation. She had thought through much of this while pretending to sleep earlier. But when the moment came, hesitation and caution still held her back.
Not everything was like kendo, where all you had to do was focus on your opponent and charge forward.
Here, there were too many things to consider.
The silence thickened again.
Saeko began to notice Senya's gaze—hotter, heavier, his breathing growing uneven.
Their eyes met once more, closer than ever. And this time, it was Senya who flinched first, turning his head away.
Her navy yukata framed her perfectly: the loose sleeves exposing the pale skin of her arms, the crossed collar dipping just enough to reveal the shadowed curve of her chest…
"Saeko," he said at last, "what you whispered to me back at the bath—you must have had something you wanted to say."
It was time to get to the point. If not now, then in this sweet, intimate, private atmosphere, with Saeko's tender eyes betraying longing, her very presence pulling at him—he wasn't sure he could hold himself back.
"Yes. There's something I want to ask of you." Her hands, folded neatly in her lap, tightened together.
"You don't need to be so formal," Senya said gently. "If it's something I can do, I'll help you."
"…Mm." His kindness eased much of her unease. "It's about the end-of-term dance."
"The dance?"
"Yes. At Kawarami Academy, every year they hold a graduation ball in the gymnasium for the students finishing in March. It's both a farewell party and a symbolic step toward the next stage of life."
She explained what she had heard from her juniors in the kendo club.
There was even a campus legend—that the pair who danced together at the graduation ball would be blessed by the god of love, destined never to part.
That part she left unspoken.
Finally, she looked down, hands still entwined, and voiced her request:
"…I don't care much about farewells or new stages of life. But I do want to leave behind one precious memory of this school I've been at for three years. So… I want to invite you, Senya, to be my partner at the graduation dance."
"I see…" Senya looked at her troubled expression and answered without hesitation. "…Alright. I'll make sure to be there."
"Thank you, Senya."
"There's no need to thank me. Compared to all the help I've gotten from you, this is nothing."
…But was that really all she wanted to say?
It didn't quite add up. Would she really sneak into his room at midnight just to ask something like that? If she'd simply wanted to avoid the others overhearing, a message on her phone would have sufficed.
And besides—she hadn't made the slightest move to leave. Which could only mean…
Senya's heart jolted.
Saeko's slender hand slid gently over the back of his.
Her hair fell forward, shadowing her face.
"Senya… may I ask you one more question?"
"Of course."
Her hand, honed by years of kendo, wasn't soft like Yukino's, but it carried a strength uniquely her own. It set his imagination ablaze.
"Do you think… you and I have reached the point of truly understanding one another?" Her voice was soft, trembling.
"…!"
Wait—wasn't that the exact question Rikka had teased him with at the hot springs earlier?
Senya's mind spun. Hesitant, he turned his hand palm-up, pressing it against hers.
That small gesture was all the answer Saeko needed. Her fingers slid between his, intertwining naturally.
Her body trembled at the heat of his broad hand.
"…I suppose that question doesn't need words, does it?"
Senya's voice was lower now, thicker. To Saeko, it melted her strength. She leaned into him, collapsing softly against his chest.
In the dim light of the bedroom, alone, their tentative feelings collided—affection blooming, reason slipping away, the air heating rapidly.
Saeko's scent enveloped him, rich and intoxicating. Instinct stirred in Senya's blood.
"Saeko…"
"Senya… please, let me say this first…" She lifted her head, cheeks flushed crimson, eyes glistening. "…I like you. I've probably liked you for a very, very long time."
Her lips trembled, her body pressed close—so alluring, yet so sincere.
Confession was supposed to be a victory march, not a battle cry. She had planned to wait until the graduation dance before deciding whether to reveal her long-buried feelings.
But life wasn't a game. It didn't follow the neat timeline she'd imagined. Unexpected things kept happening.
Earlier at the hot springs, Utaha's too-obvious gestures. Yukino's vague but telling words when Rikka asked about her crush.
Saeko could feel it—those girls' emotions were no weaker than her own.
That sense of crisis left her unable to wait any longer.
She wasn't a prodigy like Utaha, already a novelist. She wasn't encyclopedic like Yukino, brilliant in every field she touched.
But she had her own strength: the decisiveness and forward drive honed through years of kendo.
Senya was captivated by the tenderness in her eyes, the way they shone like spring water. He brushed his palm along her cheek.
"…I'm sorry. I should have said those words first."
At first, hearing "I'm sorry," Saeko's heart nearly stopped. But his next words made her lips curl upward uncontrollably.
Overjoyed, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down with her onto the futon.
Their bodies fit together as naturally as lock and key.
Her figure was mature, her curves full. Yet the weight of her body against his felt soft, comfortable, not at all overwhelming.
"I like you too, Saeko."
He stroked her hair, speaking with certainty.
"…I'm so glad."
Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, her shoulders trembling with repressed emotion.
Senya noticed immediately. Holding her shoulders, he looked into her eyes—shimmering with tears, as if crying from sheer joy.
"What's this about?" His voice was impossibly gentle, indulgent.
"Sorry… I'm just too happy. May I be greedy, just a little more?"
He didn't answer with words. His actions sufficed.
Rolling over, he reversed their positions, taking the lead.
Saeko bit her lip, closed her eyes, her body shivering not with fear but with anticipation.
His breath grew heavy as he leaned down, closing the final distance.
Their lips met.
Saeko's heart leapt, her spine tingling, arms tightening around his neck.
—
"Mmph—!"
In the dark of another room, a muffled sound escaped.
Sawamura Eriri suddenly woke, grimacing in pain.
Her hand flew to her stomach—where she discovered a stray foot.
Switching on her phone flashlight, she turned her head. Of course. Takanashi Rikka, sprawled out of her own bedding, had rolled into hers, planting a heel squarely into her abdomen.
A vein popped on Eriri's forehead. This was no way to be woken up.
It wasn't the first time either—once before, Rikka had kicked her clean off the bed, leaving her sore for days.
Her fists clenched, but at last she sighed. Forget it. They were friends, and besides, this was Senya's little sister.
She rolled Rikka back into place and tucked her in. The girl didn't stir once—her quality of sleep was enviable.
Meanwhile, Yukinoshita Yukino lay on her back, peaceful and doll-like, still in the exact posture she'd fallen asleep in.
So cute, Eriri thought. Like a porcelain doll.
She considered snapping a picture, but the risk of waking Yukino—and remembering her ferocity earlier that night—convinced her otherwise.
Smoothing Rikka's blanket once more, Eriri lay back down.
But her stomach felt tight—not from Rikka's kick, but from the milk she'd drunk before bed.
She decided to slip quietly to the bathroom.
Tiptoeing past the others, she stepped into the hall.
The faint glow of a nightlamp kept the living room from total darkness.
Heading toward the bathroom, her eyes caught the thin strip of light shining from beneath Senya's door.
So late, and he was still awake?
Curious, she drifted closer.
And as she neared, she could hear his voice.
…He was talking to someone?
On the phone? Or—wait.
A shock ran through her. Her eyes widened, pupils trembling. She turned abruptly to look at the third room of their suite.
Don't tell me… that sly fox, Kasumigaoka Utaha, was in Senya's room right now?!
Her stomach dropped.
She reached toward the door, about to press her ear against it—
When Senya's voice rang out clearly from inside, louder than before, as if he'd noticed:
"Eriri… is that you outside?"
…
..
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