Episode Ninety-Five

When I awoke, I saw the ceiling of the inn.
My entire body was enveloped in a sluggish, weary lethargy. It seemed I had been asleep.
Right.
So that scene in the open-air bath…

“What? It was just a dream…”

“Of course not!”

A face, upside down, intruded into my field of vision.

“Thank goodness. You gave me such a fright, suddenly collapsing with a nosebleed like that.”

Nosebleed?
Now that she mentioned it, there was indeed an unpleasant sensation deep in my nasal cavity. So collapsing must have been real.
Pulling my chin back, I realised I was wearing a yukata after all.
The ties were tied very loosely, making the fabric’s overlap rather revealing. Probably no underwear either.

“…Did Ibara dress me?”

“Yes. It was quite the ordeal, you know.”

“Oh… thank you…”

I mumbled my thanks, still feeling dazed.
Glancing around, I finally realised I was resting my head on someone’s lap.
No wonder the back of my head felt so unnaturally soft.
Right then. What happened?
　I think—
My consciousness, which had felt like it was floating on a cloud, rapidly came back to me.
The first thing I remembered was the temperature.
The chill of the spring breeze, the lukewarm shower water. The warmth of a palm touching me. The body heat against my back.
My own heat, mingling with all those temperatures.
Ibara, wearing an expression like a mischievous cat, leaned close and whispered.

“We did it, didn’t we? Something naughty.”

“Huh?”

The breath I’d inhaled caught in my throat.

“Mmph. You let me touch you.”

“I-I didn’t let you.”

“Oh, right. That’s true.”

Ibara’s face drew nearer.
Her breath brushed my lips.

“You’re the one who gets touched, aren’t you, Shigure-san?”

Slender fingers traced my jawline.
They stroked the thin skin between my jawbone and neck, tickled behind my ear, then pinched and kneaded my earlobe.
I reflexively stopped the other hand from slipping into the gap of my yukata.
Ibara looked less displeased than surprised.

“No?”

“No, no, it’s no good.”

“Why?”

“It’s not ‘why’—”

I averted my eyes, struggling to form a protest.

“What happened earlier was, um, strictly just having my body washed—”

“That’s just the official line, isn’t it?”

“…No, you really shouldn’t say that…”

“Was I bad at it?”

“It’s not that, you see—”

“So, are you still scared? Of doing that sort of thing with me?”

“Well…”

Looking down at me, tongue-tied, Ibara narrowed her eyes sadly.
Just that made my chest ache sharply.

“It’s not that,”

I said.

“I am scared, it’s true. But it’s not that I dislike it or feel uneasy or anything like that.”

“It’s not?”

“…I was scared of being found out.”

“What?”

“No, I mean…”

“What?”

“…That I… well…”

“I can’t hear you.”

Ibara leaned in close, suddenly.
My heartbeat accelerated further. I felt sick.
It was the most tense I’d felt since the art college results.

“So, that means I’m looking at Ibara with lecherous eyes!”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t want you to know I was looking at you like that! I was afraid you’d be disappointed!”

Enough. I don’t care anymore.
Driven by momentum, I blurted it out.

“But then, Ibara, you just keep sticking to me, kissing me at every opportunity, and you’re actually quite good at it. Lately, you’ve been so bloody adorable it’s mind-boggling.”

“S-Shigure-san?”

“I know it’s wrong. But Ibara is just too cute…… and it makes my heart race……”

It’s fine for Ibara to have those kinds of feelings toward me.
But the reverse is not.
Granting a hundred steps, feeling something like ‘I want to touch her chest’ might be one thing — but genuinely wanting to go further than that is wrong — or so I think.
Because I’m an adult. Because I’m older.
No, wait. That’s not it. It’s not about right or wrong.
Simply put — I didn’t want Ibara to hate me.
After going on and on about wanting to protect her, wanting to cherish her — if she found out I was directing raw desire toward her, she might come to hate me.
That thought frightened me.
Enough to keep me awake at night.

“……I’m sorry.”

The desire to treasure her, the wish to be gentle with her — none of that was a lie.
But right now, an unfamiliar color has been added to all of that. A deep, dense color, dark enough to blot out everything else.
The color that goes by the name of desire.

“I won’t hate you.”

To my confession that resembled an act of penance, Ibara nodded with a straight face.

“There’s no way I would. Because I’m happy.”

“…Happy?”

“Because I’ve always wanted to do that sort of thing with you, Shigure-san?”

“Ugh…”

Hearing it spoken aloud made me feel utterly mortified.
But Ibara was serious.

“I’m happy you finally feel the same way.”

“…Don’t you find me disgusting?”

“I told you I don’t. And you know what?”

She drew her lips close to my ear and whispered.

“I probably think about doing naughty things with you a hundred times more than you do about me.”

My cheeks burned fiercely.
Hearing Ibara, who looked like a princess, say that made it feel incredibly wicked and devastatingly powerful.
Ibara gently lowered my head onto the bed.
Then, moving around my body, she came to lie on top of me.

“I want to touch you more, Shigure-san. And I want you to touch me.”

“Ibara…”

Her body cast a shadow over me.
My pulse quickened. My heart felt like it might burst.
I’d thought it countless times before: Ibara was adorable. The most adorable in the world.
The very fact I was thinking such things meant I was completely smitten. By this girl seven years my junior.
Her pale hair cascaded down, trapping my world within it.

“Shigure-san…”

She calls my name, her lips drawing near.
Soft and warm.
If I let her, it would surely feel good.

But.

“──Still, no.”

“Mmmph.”

Just before our lips touched, I covered Ibara’s mouth.

“Still, no. You should properly graduate before doing this sort of thing.”

“…………Mmmph”

Her eyes, still muffled, spoke volumes. ‘What kind of half-arsed excuse is that at this stage?’
Frankly, I thought the same. I did, but still.
Pulling my hand away as if tearing it off, Ibara said.

“Why? We’ve done it once, so what difference does a second, tenth, or twentieth time make?”

“W-we haven’t. We barely haven’t.”

“Aren’t you being a bit too stubborn about this?”

“Ugh.”

“Even though I’m saying I want to do that sort of thing?”

“…Yeah.”

“And you want to touch me too, don’t you, Shigure-san?”

“…………Yeah.”

“So you expect me to hold off for nearly another year?”

“…………I suppose that’s how it’ll be…”

“Shigure-san.”

Ibara looked grim.

“Ugh… but it’s still wrong. Getting involved with a high schooler…”

“Are you still worried about the age gap? Or do you still not trust me?”

“No. It’s just—”

“Just?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ibara.”

It’s a cliché, but that was the truth after all.
Age and status are just indicators. Ibara is a respectable working adult, probably has more savings than me, and is a bright girl who thinks for herself.
Even so, Ibara and I are still, just barely, an adult and a child.

“Hmm, I see.”

Ibara nodded after a moment, still looking down at me.

“Understood.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.
Thank goodness. She understood.
Ibara flashed an angelic smile and stroked my cheek.

“So, Shigure-san, you just need to stay still.”

“Eh?”

“Even if you can’t touch me, it’s fine if I touch you, right? Absolutely no problem at all, right?”

“W-wait, wait, wait!”

There’s nothing but problems.
Ibara’s hand slipped beneath the collar of my yukata.

“Let me touch you a lot, okay?”

“W-wait. Ibara—!”

Ibara’s hand invaded the inside of my yukata, touching my skin.
The smouldering heat deep within my core ignited.
　My nerves felt raw, hypersensitive to every touch.
Unconsciously, I gripped the sheets. Hard enough to crumple them.

“Y-ahh!”

The faint warmth of fingertips tracing my skin. The slight hardness of nails grazing me.
The smooth feel of the sheets. The sound of wind hitting the window.
Our ragged breaths and a high-pitched electronic beep.
　…Electronic beeps?

“I… Ibara, the phone! The room phone’s ringing!”

“Eh?”

Instinctively, I pushed Ibara away and grabbed the telephone in the corner of the room.
My body reacts automatically when a landline rings – the plight of the working adult.

“Hello… yes, ah, I see. My apologies.”

“………….”

“Yes, it’s fine. As planned, yes.”

“………….”

After listening to the request and turning back, Ibara was sulking with an utterly dissatisfied expression.
I tightened my dishevelled yukata and cleared my throat with a soft cough.

“Dinner’s ready, so they’re bringing it to our room now.”

“…………Grrr.”

Grumbling won’t help, you know.
You’ll just cause trouble for the inn staff.