Sleeping Beauty and the Witch’s Fever. Part Two

Shigure-san’s fingers brushed against the buttons of her pyjamas.
Hold on a minute, my conscience cried out.
Shigure-san and I live together, sort of cohabiting, but we keep our private zones strictly separate.
　Changing only happens behind the partition curtain, and wandering around naked after a bath is completely out of the question.
Well, it’s not like I’ve never seen it, actually. Quite the opposite, in fact.
But watching Shigure, drenched in sweat, undoing each button one by one on the bed… it’s a bit of a regulation violation, or like… sensitive, or in short — it’s too sexy and I don’t know what to do.
I really, really don’t know what to do.
Incredibly troublesome.
　But today, I absolutely mustn’t look at her like that.
Pop, pop, pop, the buttons come undone.
Through the seam of the cotton fabric, I catch a glimpse of her softly rounded cleavage and sweat glistening on her bare skin.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
　This is no good.
Too tempting for the eyes!
I threw myself at the wardrobe’s storage boxes, focusing all my attention on finding a replacement pyjama set.
I couldn’t hear the rustle of fabric. I couldn’t hear it, I tell you!

“Shigure-san, replacement pyjamas.”

When I turned around holding the sweatshirt top and bottoms I’d found, I gasped involuntarily.
　Because Shigure-san was naked.
No, that’s misleading.
Shigure-san was only bare-chested, using one bent arm to cover the bulge.
The squishy, squashed chest was being pushed out from above and below the arm.
Because it was only half-covered, it was actually, well…
Oh, for heaven’s sake.

“You’ll catch a cold!”

I flung the new pyjamas at her as if slamming them onto the bed.
Please, just put them on already. For the sake of my sanity.
But Shigure-san just…

“But I need to wipe the sweat off…”

…she mumbled, dawdling.
Maybe the fever’s making her joints ache. When she tries to reach the towel around to her back, she grimaced with a little “Ow, ow.”
　Oh, for heaven’s sake!

“Shigure-san, turn round!”

“Eh?”

What was that ‘eh’? Utterly adorable.
I snatched the towel from Shigure-san and reached out to her smooth back.

“Mmm…”

“Ah, sorry. Was that cold?”

“No.”

“It feels nice,” Shigure-san murmured.
　No, no, no, I chanted like a mantra (though I’ve never heard one), wiping away the sweat with the towel.
Shigure-san’s back was incredibly beautiful, so smooth.
The curve of her shoulder blades, the faint outline of her ribs, her narrow waist – all of it was in my hands.
My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break.
　Restraining the mounting impulse, I moved my hands mindlessly. Was I being a bit too presumptuous?

“Thanks… I’ll dry myself next time…”

Right.
It’s not that. I’m not disappointed.
But when we exchanged towels, Shigure-san unguardedly released her arms, and I hastily averted my gaze from the faintly swaying curves.
　Basically, this person is full of openings.
But I’ve always been saved by that certain carelessness and looseness, so I really have no complaints.
Sometimes, I wonder.
What can I give this person?
Today, my pouch holds a small, wrapped box.
Macarons from Pierre Hermé. Rose and raspberry, pistachio, vanilla and chocolate.
　I really wanted to make something myself, but I thought it might seem childish, so I didn’t. Same with Valentine’s Day.
Well, it’s partly just that I can’t cook.
Shigure-san is kind, so she’ll be pleased.
But what I truly want to give her has no form.
How can I offer ‘it’? I still don’t know the answer.

After somehow managing to get changed, we ate egg rice porridge together.
Since I can’t cook, it was instant.
The porridge, eaten for the first time in ages, had a rich broth flavour and was rather tasty.
It was delicious, but I also thought this:
If only I could cook, I could have made it for you myself.
Having quit being an idol, I’m just an insomniac high school girl now.
What can a high schooler really do for an adult?
　After taking her medicine, Shigure lay down and fidgeted, rearranging the futon over herself.

“I’m going to sleep.”

“Right.”

It suddenly struck me.
Something I could do.

“Shigure, shall I sleep beside you?”

“No, you’ll catch it.”

Oh dear. That’s no good either.
Seems there really is nothing I can do.
Perhaps I should just go home.
But I have to give her the contents of the pouch.
I could just put it in the fridge.
Hang on, do macarons need refrigeration? Probably.
I quietly took out the small wrapped box and opened the fridge door.
　Milk, eggs, ham and cheese, yoghurt. Fruit granola.
The wrapped little box.
Huh? I checked my own hands.
My present was still here.
Thump. My heart skipped a beat.

“That’s for Ibara.”

Even though the angle meant she couldn’t possibly see it, Shigure-san said it as if reading my mind.

“Just in case, it’s a Valentine’s return gift.”

“Really⁉︎”

I was delighted.
I’d requested it myself, but I’d been worried she might have forgotten.
I hadn’t specifically reminded her, after all. Shigure-san is busy.
I took the small box from the fridge and carefully unwrapped the paper.
I opened the lid.
Inside were five macarons.
Macarons.
　—Macarons!
Still holding the box, I dashed over to the pillow.

“Shigure-san, this, this!”

“Hmm?”

“Macarons.”

“Yes, they are.”

Shigure-san rolled over, facing the wall.

“Did you look up the meaning?”

“I can’t quite remember.”

“Shigure-san!”

“I’ve forgotten. Might be the cold.”

“That’s unfair.”

Touching her shoulder in protest, I felt her sweat-dampened hair brush against me.
Her bright red earlobes were exposed.
Was this because of the cold? Or was she blushing?
Which was it? I couldn’t tell. But.

“Me too.”

I placed the box I was holding beside her pillow.

“Me too, macarons. Just for you, Shigure-san, as a special treat.”

At that moment, Shigure-san’s ears turned even redder, so I knew the answer.
My heart leapt about. A feeling of happiness filled me right down to my fingertips.
Carried away by the momentum, I asked.

“Hey, hey. Shigure-san, is there anything you want me to do?”

“Something I want you to do…?”

After hesitating for quite a while, Shigure-san said.

“Well. Nothing in particular right now, I suppose.”

“Oh…”

Seeing me deflate, she murmured, still facing the wall.

“Ibara, just you being here is enough for me.”

Eh?
Eh, eh? What was that?
My sinking heart twisted and creaked with a gyu gyu gyu gyun.
My feelings overflowed, threatening to choke me.
　I really want to hug her, but Shigure-san is ill.
At least,

“Shigure-san. Is it alright if I hold your hand?”

“…All right.”

Shigure-san rolled over.
I knelt and took the hand resting on the futon.
Her palm felt just a little warmer than usual.

“…Well, there was this thing about Miss Mary…”

“Eh?”

“Miss Mary. She was this stuffed sheep I had when I was little. Back then, I couldn’t sleep without her.”

　Shigure-san said it almost like a mutter to herself.

“But she appeared in my dream this morning. And… Miss Mary was you, Ibara. So…”

“Hmm.”

“…………No, sorry. Never mind.”

“Eh?”

“Good night.”

“Shigure-san?”

“………….”

“Eh, ehh……”

What on earth was that about?
Miss Mary being a stuffed toy, appearing in dreams… what was that?
　I wanted to wake her and ask for an explanation, but I held back.
It was just a dream anyway, and I wanted Shigure-san to sleep peacefully.
I just kept holding her folded hands.
It was good. It was there. Something I could give Shigure-san right now.
Peace, or reassurance, or something like that.
Through the curtains, the lukewarm afternoon light filtered in, and her gentle breathing dissolved into drowsiness.
　A room just for us. A bright place.
Holding hands the whole time, I simply listened to the sound of her gentle breathing.

†

Shigure-san woke up around evening.
Perhaps the second dose of medicine had worked; her fever seemed to have mostly subsided.

“Sorry about today. I’ll make it up to you properly next time.”

She said that, clapping her hands together, and I couldn’t help but get greedy.

“Then I want to go on a trip. Overnight.”

To be fair, I wasn’t serious at all. I was just testing the waters.
But.

“Ah, sure. Spring break. Fancy going somewhere?”

“Huh?”

Seriously!?

“Then overnight—”

tararan, tararan. The phone rang.

“Sorry, hold on.”

Shigure-san pressed the phone by her pillow to her ear.
What could it be? A work call, perhaps?

“…Yeah, it’s fine. It’s been a while, Eh⁉︎
That means… No, I get it, but it’s sudden and… No, um… It’s not impossible, but… Eh, but… Hmm… Hmmmm… Alright. I’ll call you back later. Yeah, I’ll think about it. Right.”

When Shigure lowered her phone, she wore a rather awkward expression.
A look of confusion, perhaps, or apology.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sorry. Spring break trip… doesn’t look likely.”

Or rather, Shigure continued.

“My sister might be staying in this room for a while…”

“Eh?”

Time stood still.
Slowly, the meaning of her words seeped into my brain.
Eh.
Eeeeeh?!?!?