You still know this will get you beaten!
Yukiko glared at him irritably, then pried Hayashi Shuichi's hand from her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she replied as calmly as possible: "Yeah, I got soaked. Wait a bit—I'll change and come out."
"If you're soaked, take a hot bath," Mrs. Fujimine's voice came through the door. "Don't catch a cold."
"Got it!"
Yukiko raised her voice in response.
After placating her mother, she looked up at Hayashi Shuichi—and caught his gaze fixed on her chest.
Instantly embarrassed and angry, she kicked out with her bare foot, heedless of exposure: "Stop looking!"
"If you hadn't come in, it'd be fine. Now it's like this—what do we do?"
Yukiko demanded furiously, her fair skin flushing pink with shame.
"I panicked, okay?" Hayashi Shuichi laughed dryly, Adam's apple bobbing.
Only then did he recall meeting the Fujimines at the Mikan film event. Even soaked and disheveled, it wouldn't matter if they saw him.
But now—he'd barged into Yukiko's bedroom and seen her naked. If discovered, Mr. Fujimine might break his legs.
Still... what a feast for the eyes tonight...
Hayashi Shuichi thought secretly, eyes drifting to her exquisite curves.
Her pearl-like skin glowed under the light, making his mouth dry.
"Still looking!" Yukiko stomped angrily. "Turn around—I need to change!"
Hayashi Shuichi turned disappointedly—then widened his eyes.
Right in front was the full-length dressing mirror!
It clearly reflected Yukiko's every move: her slim waist bending for clothes, the surging waves when raising arms, and...
Yukiko's figure is amazing!
Hayashi Shuichi unconsciously rubbed his fingers, still feeling her silky skin.
"Okay, I'm dressed..."
Yukiko stopped mid-sentence, finally noticing the mirror.
"You!"
Her face burned red, even her ears crimson.
"Not my fault!" Hayashi Shuichi raised hands in surrender. "You told me to turn!"
"Pervert! You saw the mirror and didn't warn me!"
Yukiko grabbed a pillow to throw.
Just then, Mrs. Fujimine outside: "Yukiko, who are you talking to?"
"No one! Just me!"
Yukiko warned Hayashi Shuichi with her eyes while answering loudly.
Her mother right outside made her chest heave, breathing quicken.
"No one? I heard voices."
Footsteps approached clearly.
W-What now!
Yukiko panicked.
Hayashi Shuichi scanned—eyes locking on the solid wood wardrobe in the corner, the only hiding spot.
He rushed over, opened it—full of Yukiko's clothes.
No time to think; he ducked in. Yukiko frantically closed the door.
Almost simultaneously, the bedroom doorknob turned: "Why locked?"
"Mom, why are you here?" Yukiko opened calmly.
"Just changing—why lock?" Mrs. Fujimine frowned suspiciously. "Before we returned, you were alone, right?"
"...It was raining; I got scared."
Yukiko's eyes darted, voice fading.
She saw her mother notice floor water stains—heart skipping.
"So many puddles—you got really wet?"
Mrs. Fujimine crouched, touching wet footprints. "Shoe prints? You came in with shoes?"
"Too soaked—didn't change in time."
Yukiko inwardly fumed at Hayashi Shuichi.
Usually so smart—why so clumsy today?
Rain soak his brain?
"You kid—don't tell us when you come home," Mrs. Fujimine shook her head helplessly.
"You didn't tell me you were back either." Yukiko muttered.
If parents hadn't returned suddenly, this mess wouldn't happen!
"Fine—go bathe!" Mrs. Fujimine pushed her out. "Don't catch cold."
"Wait, I haven't..." Yukiko resisted, but was firmly ushered out.
"No dawdling!" Mrs. Fujimine grabbed a mop from storage. "I'll clean your floor."
Unable to argue, Yukiko glanced back repeatedly toward the bathroom.
Passing the living room, Mr. Fujimine looked up from his newspaper: "Free today? How's the filming?"
"Smooth," Yukiko answered distractedly, eyes on her bedroom. "My parts finish in half a month."
"Good," Mr. Fujimine nodded satisfied. "Your first step in acting—must..."
"Enough! Yukiko's about to catch cold—you're lecturing!" Mrs. Fujimine interrupted irritably. "Let her bathe."
Mr. Fujimine pushed glasses gloomily. Yukiko grimaced at him, slipping into the bathroom.
Now pray—before she finishes bathing, Mom doesn't find Hayashi Shuichi!
In Yukiko's bedroom, soaked Hayashi Shuichi hid in the wardrobe—far from comfortable.
He reached to open the door, sneak a towel.
But just touching it, noise outside.
Through the crack, he saw Mrs. Fujimine enter with mop: "This child—doesn't remove shoes."
Hayashi Shuichi grimaced awkwardly—he'd forgotten in panic.
Mrs. Fujimine was thorough, slightly OCD—any stain, she scrubbed hard.
His wet footprints led right to the wardrobe.
As she mopped closer, Hayashi Shuichi held his breath, motionless.
Already drenched, now in stuffy wardrobe.
Time passed—sweat or rainwater streamed down his face...
(End of chapter)
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