Episode 31: Hiyori’s Room, For the First Time.

Sunday afternoon, three o’clock.
Cram school done, I pushed through the automatic door and out onto the street.

Honestly, I’d absorbed barely half of what was covered.
Because today—

I came down the building’s staircase and stepped out onto the pavement, and a sound escaped me before I could stop it.

“…Hm?”

A girl sitting on the guardrail scrolling through her phone looked up the moment she spotted me.
A loose hoodie. Short denim shorts. Ash-grey hair drifting in the wind.

“…Good work. I figured you wouldn’t know where my place was.”
“Hiyori—”

We hadn’t arranged to meet here.
It was true I didn’t know the address — but she could have just sent the map. That would have done it.
And yet she’d come all the way to the cram school entrance to meet me.

“…You’re dressed really cute again today, aren’t you.”

Hiyori hopped down from the guardrail and looked my outfit over from head to toe.

“So — did you put in some effort?”
“No. It’s the weekend, that’s all.”
“Hmm? Well then — what about me? …How do I look?”

Hiyori did a little spin where she stood.
The hem of her oversized hoodie lifted, showing a glimpse of healthy bare thigh.

“…Looks like you, I think. It suits you.”

I answered honestly, and Hiyori narrowed her eyes with satisfaction — then a sudden gust swept through between the buildings.
Hiyori’s hair lifted and drifted, and the sweet musk grazed my nose.

“…Your hand’s cold.”

Hiyori looped her left hand through my right and leaned her weight against me without asking.
The soft warmth of her, and the slightly chilled temperature of her body reaching me through it.

“Let’s go. …My room’s warm.”

◇◆◇◆◇

“Here we are.”
“…Excuse me.”

The apartment building two stations over — I’d heard her mention it before.
Through the automatic lock, up in the lift, and then the sound of a key turning.
The metallic click rang out like the door of a cage with no way back.

Inside the entrance hall it was, as she’d said, warm.
She led me through the living room to her bedroom beyond.

This was Hiyori’s territory, the first time I’d set foot in it.
Looking properly around the room, it was unmistakably her.

A plain desk and bed. A tall bookshelf against the wall.
The spines lined up in colour-coordinated rows — until they didn’t, collapsing at a certain point into a small, haphazard stack on the floor.
Neat and messy, sharing the same space.

That contradiction felt so entirely like Asahina Hiyori that I found myself strangely, quietly reassured.

“…Mum probably won’t be back today either.”
“…Either?”
“She’s a workaholic. Always has been, so this place has always felt like my castle alone.”

The brightness of her voice only made the room’s silence more present.

“Sit wherever. Oh — Coke okay?”
“…Yes.”

Hiyori disappeared into the kitchen.
On the desk: a worn-out charging cable. A half-finished bottle of water.
It had the feel of someone’s life in it, and yet something quietly lonely about it too.
The reality of being alone together in a space like this.

“Sorry for the wait. Here.”
“…Thank you.”

I accepted the cold can of Coke.

“Oh, you can sit on the bed rather than the floor, you know.”
“…It’s fine. I’ll stay on the floor.”
“Huh — you’re a floor person? Seriously?”
“I feel more settled this way.”
“That’s strange. …Oh well. Then I’ll sit next to you.”

Hiyori crouched down and dropped to the floor beside me with a thud.
Close enough that our thighs almost touched.
The musk and a faint trace of the everyday smell of the room tickled my nose.

“Want to read this? It’s one of mine — I like it.”

Hiyori set a manga from the floor pile down on my knee.

“…Oh, this one. I think I’ve seen the cover somewhere.”
“Then you should read it. The main character’s personality is kind of like yours.”

The dry sound of turning pages settled into the room.
Psh — the faint pop of Coke bubbles.

A peaceful Sunday afternoon.
We spent the time being just friends — the kind you’d find anywhere — letting the hours dissolve.

As if yesterday had never happened.

◇◆◇◆◇

“Oh, by the way — apparently Minami’s boyfriend pulled something again.”

Out of nowhere, Hiyori spoke without lifting her eyes from the manga.

“…Who?”
“From next door’s class. You don’t know her? Apparently he sent her something like ‘You read it, so why no reply?’ Creepy beyond words.”
“That does sound… unpleasant. Way too much.”
“Right? You’d have him writing a reflection essay in seconds, Maya.”
“For the record, the discipline committee does not get involved in couples’ disputes.”
“So this morning I told her — just break up with him.”
“…You say that very decisively.”
“Sooner is better, isn’t it. Life’s too short to waste.”

That kind of easy, inconsequential conversation.
Thirty minutes passed. An hour.
The moment I closed the manga I’d finished, the conversation dropped away.

Only the quiet ticking of the clock remained in the room.
The silence frightened me.

I had to say something.
Do something.

The feeling crept over me: if I stayed quiet, something would begin, and something would end.

“Oh — I’ll read another one, I think.”

I stood up, using it as a reason to move.
I went to the bookshelf and ran my fingertips along the spines.
And then my finger stopped at one.

“This one—”

The spine beneath my touch felt oddly familiar in my hand.

The yuri manga I’d confiscated from Hiyori that day.
The one I’d been alone with in the discipline room, and—

It was only two months ago, and yet it felt distant, like something from long before.

“Ah, that one.”

A light voice, from right behind me.
Without my noticing, Hiyori was standing directly at my back.

“If you hadn’t brought a manga like this to school, I’d be—”

From beside my head, Hiyori’s slender arm reached past me.
And tapped the spine of it, lightly. Tap.

“That’s why Maya is here right now.”
“…Yes. Because I was blackmailed. Today too, forced into it.”

I moved to put the book back.
But my fingers wouldn’t move.

Hiyori’s body heat was right at my back.
I could feel her gaze on me.
The silence fell another beat, and the room’s atmosphere shifted entirely.

“Oh — it’s evening already. No wonder it’s getting dark… sorry, can I turn the light on?”

I deflected, casting around for something to say.

“Go ahead.”
“Right then, I’ll just—”
“Don’t turn it on.”

Close.
When I turned around, Hiyori’s face was right there, close enough to brush noses.

…Because Hiyori is blackmailing me.
To satisfy her and get the video deleted.

That’s why.

That’s why I—

Hiyori’s face drew closer.

“Mm—”

Lips met lips.
A light kiss, just a touch.

Chu. A small soft sound.
Then again, chu.
Again and again, like a small bird pecking.

Hiyori’s hand came around my neck and shifted the angle.
In the dim room, the sound of lips meeting lips began to ring out, same as always.

The next moment, the light kiss deepened into everything we were now.