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Kiyono had already won first place in the Newcomer Award, which meant he could be considered an author, though he was a bit down on his luck now… She felt he would surpass her very soon.
She gently wiped the sweat from his forehead, resisting the urge to pinch his cheek.
Just then, Kiyono's lips moved slightly, as if he were saying something.
Was he talking in his sleep?
Yanami, very interested, leaned her ear close to his lips.
The next second, she heard the boy's unconscious murmur.
"So fragrant…"
…Eh?
Didn't you just say it had a smell after being left out for too long? Why now…
Yanami slowly realized something; a pink blush appeared on the girl's fair neck, then rapidly spread to her earlobes, her cheeks so red they looked like they could drip water.
In his dream, his lips felt vaguely itchy.
After taking the medicine, Kiyono had sweated a lot in a daze and felt much lighter. When he opened his eyes again, his vision was no longer blurry and red. The scene before him suddenly cleared, and the first thing he saw was an unfamiliar ceiling.
Ah… I think I was kidnapped to someone's house…
What time is it now?
The indoor light was already somewhat dim, with only the soft glow of the setting sun.
Did I sleep that long?
Kiyono sat up and looked up.
But he suddenly froze.
Facing him was a warm, red figure bathed in the setting sun—a blue-haired girl in a dress curled up on the sofa, her eyes tightly closed, her sleeping face beautiful, her long eyelashes casting faint shadows in the almost-set sun.
As if sensing his gaze, the girl's long eyelashes trembled slightly a few times, then she slowly opened her bright, shimmering blue eyes.
In her eyes was his own reflection.
The girl blinked and showed a faint smile.
"You're finally awake. Are you hungry?"
Under the soft, quiet gaze of those blue eyes, Kiyono inexplicably became nervous. He unconsciously looked away and said in a somewhat dry voice:
"Um… good morning."
"Are you still half-asleep? It's almost evening!"
Yanami chuckled, quickly regaining her energy, and leaped up from the sofa. The first thing she did upon waking was lean close to Kiyono, placing a hand on his forehead.
"Hmm, you feel much better. Let's take your temperature again. It's probably just a low fever now!"
"I understand…"
He subconsciously adopted a kneeling posture. Huh? Am I a patient facing a doctor? Or a husband who made a mistake?
Yanami put one hand on her hip, about to say something more, when a subtle rumbling sound echoed in the living room.
Kiyono's gaze instinctively fell on her tummy.
The girl covered her stomach, her pretty face reddening. "I—I only ate a few snacks at noon! This is perfectly normal, right!"
After speaking, she pattered back to her room, then pattered back out, carrying several bags of snacks.
She tore open the packaging.
Holding a snack in each hand.
Her expression was blissful, completely lost in the moment.
Watching this scene, Kiyono's heartbeat and expression gradually calmed down, and he smiled—yes, it was the Yanami he knew!
"Oh, right, I almost forgot to take Kiyono's temperature."
Yanami finally remembered what she was supposed to do, awkwardly stopped what she was doing, wiped her hands clean with a wet wipe, then took out a thermometer and fresh cooling patches from the medicine box, seemingly intending to personally attend to him.
"I can do it myself…"
Their words were suddenly cut short.
Yanami didn't notice the bedding at her feet, stumbled slightly, and—with a small yelp—her body fell toward Kiyono, her hands braced beside his pillow.
At that moment, both their eyes simultaneously caught magnified details—his slightly reddish earlobes and cheeks; her sparkling lips and trembling eyelashes; the warm breath brushing his nose.
Kiyono, pinned down, turned his face away in embarrassment.
Explode, God of Romantic Comedy.
The comedic incident was tacitly ignored by both of them. Yanami turned on the living room lights and reheated the ingredients she had prepared at noon for dinner.
"Here, be careful, it's hot." She placed the bowl of nutritious rice porridge and steamed egg custard on the table.
"Thanks… By the way, is this all you're having for dinner?"
Kiyono sat at the table, looking at the rice porridge in Yanami's bowl opposite him, his expression slightly surprised—this wasn't like Yanami's style.
"Hmm? Isn't this enough to fill me up?"
Yanami took a sip of porridge and, upon hearing his question, tilted her head slightly.
"Miss Yanami's food requirements shouldn't be that low."
"It's already enough, you know. When I was little, I used to eat rubber and leaves to fill my stomach, and in junior high, I even ate instant noodles for a whole month straight!"
Yanami proudly puffed out her chest, as if a holy light shone around her. This isn't something to be proud of, hey.
Kiyono was at a loss for words—he could tell that Yanami's family wasn't very wealthy, but they were still a normal family. He had never imagined the kind of situation the girl was describing.
…Unintentionally, he seemed to have discovered another one of Yanami's advantages.
Easy to feed.
Although she loved to eat and ate a bit much, rice porridge was enough to satisfy her. Any normal person with hands and feet could feed her.
…What am I thinking!
Kiyono shook his head, gratefully enjoying the food provided by the defeated heroine.
Around seven or eight in the evening, Kiyono—feeling better—wanted to make a quick exit. After all, there were only the two of them in the girl's house, and if anything happened, he wouldn't be able to resist—huh? Was that reversed? Anyway, he wasn't going to stay overnight!
But he was held back tightly.
And it was raining outside.
"If you don't want your condition to worsen, then just stay here and sleep honestly!"
—The girl said, her brows stern.
So he could only lie flat.
The hour hand ticked and tocked.
In his ears was the continuous sound of rain.
Raindrops pattered against the window, but inside the house, the lights were warm.
Kiyono lay on the bedding on the floor, playing with his phone on his side, slowly gaining a sense of reality, feeling like he was living in someone's home.
"Why aren't you talking!" Yanami sent a message.
Because I don't know what to say… Kiyono looked up, resigned. The blue-haired girl was lying on the sofa, bringing over her small quilt as well. It seemed she also wanted to stay in the living room with him tonight.
"Feeling."
The girl spoke first, her voice trailing upward slightly.
"It's like a training camp!"
"Is it? I've never been to a training camp."
"If girls are good friends during a training camp, they'll have pillow fights, but mostly they'll just talk about romance, boys, makeup, and touch each other's hair. Remember to jot it down in your notes; you might be able to use it for writing a book later."
"…Strange knowledge has increased."
"Hey, Kiyono, have you considered going to school?"
"Haven't decided yet. I'll think about future things in the future."
The atmosphere fell silent.
Yanami hugged her doll, looking at the ceiling, feeling a little incredulous—it was a home she knew intimately, yet at this moment, she felt a strange sense of novelty.
How should she spend such a night?
How should she speak?
Chatting with Kiyono about their pasts would be nice; aimlessly bickering and chatting like usual would also be good. It would be even better if they could play games together, but even without saying anything, they could feel their hearts closer than ever before.
No matter what she did, she felt it would become a precious memory in the future.
A long day, a long night.
The girl closed her eyes, a gentle smile on her face.
Monday morning.
Yanami's father took out his key and opened the door.
"I'm home," the man said casually, changing into his slippers and preparing to go back to his room to get ready for work.
But just as he passed the living room, the head of the household suddenly stopped, his gaze sharply scanning the floor and sofa.
He noticed something amiss.
Humans have a beast-like keenness for familiar places, and they are exceptionally clear about whether a strange male has passed through.
—It seemed there were traces left by a boy.
Was it Hakamada Sosuke? No, Hakamada Sosuke had never stayed overnight at their house except in elementary school… Not just today; for the past month or so, he would occasionally have this feeling, but he always mistook it for Hakamada Sosuke from next door coming to play.
The man suddenly remembered his daughter coming home early, took a sharp breath, his expression grave.
Could it be…
The illness passed without incident. For Kiyono, he gained a few CG images of the defeated heroine. For Yanami, she had already seen the hidden option to unlock the next plotline and had been constantly muttering and planning something for the past two days.
"The way to solve Kiyono's dilemma is—"
She found it!
A new week, in the lounge.
Kiyono leisurely read a book in the corner, while Komari huddled in a gap in the cabinet, engrossed in her phone. The air was quiet and pleasant, but the next second, the door was suddenly pushed open, and a cheerful greeting echoed through the room.
"Junior! Let's play chess!"
Under Kiyono's gaze, Yanami put down her schoolbag—but what she took out today was surprisingly not snacks, but… a folded shogi board?
"Why do you suddenly want to play chess?" Kiyono asked, a little puzzled.
"Because…"
Yanami smiled slightly, the curve of her lips very natural. "Recently, a newly opened chess hall is holding a student competition, and you get 50,000 yen if you win! Let's practice and participate together!"
"Do you think that money is so easy to get?" Kiyono glanced at her.
"Oh, come on… let's play!"
As companions who had known each other for a long time, Yanami had long since figured out the correct way to deal with Kiyono. She moved her feet, half-pushed the boy's shoulder, and made him sit opposite her.