Episode 35: What Kind of Situation Is This, Exactly?
Hanamori’s apartment.
Surprisingly tidy for someone living alone. Curtains and cushions in soft beige and off-white tones, small knickknacks lined up on a shelf. A calmer interior than I’d expected. It felt like glimpsing an unexpected side of her, and something about it felt oddly fresh.
Hanamori, groaning “uughh,” made a beeline straight for the bed. She lay down in her work clothes, just as she was.
Well, I’ve gotten her home, so I’ll head out now — just as I turned to leave, my eyes caught Hanamori’s cheek where she lay.
Clearly redder than before. Her fever seemed to be running quite high. If I left her like this, no one would notice if it got worse overnight.
Somehow, leaving right now felt oddly wrong.
On top of that, of all days, she was wearing a tight skirt and a blouse buttoned up to the neck. That kind of outfit looked seriously uncomfortable to sleep in.
“Hanamori-san, you can’t stay like that, it’ll be rough on you. You should change.”
“…Change…”
She just murmured it weakly, showing no sign of getting up.
Hanamori opened her eyes hazily. Her gaze was unfocused. Maybe from the fever, her eyes looked more glossy than usual.
“Where’s your pajamas or something?”
“…Closet.”
I opened the closet and pulled out a simple T-shirt and some loungewear.
“Here, this. Can you change?”
“Can’t… do it.”
An instant answer.
“Eh?”
“Body’s… too heavy.”
Hanamori tried weakly to lift her arm, then immediately gave up. That listless gesture looked like a completely worn-out kitten, and it stirred up my protective instincts uselessly.
“I mean, even if you say you can’t…”
An alarm was blaring loudly in my head.
(Wait, does this mean… I’m… going to change her clothes…? No, no, no, wait, wait.)
“Um, so, but…”
“Asami-san…”
Hanamori called my name with a feverish breath. Her words slurred slightly.
“Can I… ask you?”
Glossy eyes looked up at me. Cheeks flushed with fever.
…There was no way I could refuse.
“F-fine, okay…! Then, just for a bit, excuse me…”
With trembling hands, I reached for the buttons of Hanamori’s blouse.
Click. One button undone.
Click. Hanamori’s breathing seemed to get rougher. Probably the fever.
Click. Through the opening of the blouse, visible now: black lace fabric.
(Ugh, don’t look, don’t look, don’t look!!!)
My heart was running wild. Something in me felt strange.
Why am I this nervous. This is caretaking. Just caretaking. I desperately told myself that.
“…Okay, I’ll help you sit up.”
I gently raised Hanamori and slipped the blouse off. My eyes fully averted. But at the edge of my vision: pale skin. The line of her collarbone. Lace underwear.
Hanamori’s slightly ragged breathing, close by.
Kohn, kohn. Her body shook slightly with each cough. That vibration transmitted through my hands, and my heart jumped despite myself.
(No, don’t think about anything!! Empty your mind, Asami…!!)
“Okay, next is…”
I went to pull the T-shirt over Hanamori’s head, but paused, realizing something.
“Ah, the bra… probably easier off, right…?”
“…Yeah. Probably.”
Hanamori’s small reply. Her voice, maybe from the fever, sounded a little hoarse, oddly sultry.
Taking off the bra meant, in other words, seeing her bare.
But it’s simple. From the back, unhook it, then just put the T-shirt on. Easy.
That’s what I thought.
Looking at Hanamori’s back, a bad feeling washed over me.
A chill ran up my spine.
My hand froze.
—Wait, no way. This can’t be right.
—Hold on a second. That’s absurd.
—There’s nothing, there’s nowhere…
—This girl…
—Why does she have a front-hook bra?
“Hanamori-san… this part, maybe you should do it yourself, actually—”
“Why? Are you thinking something weird again?”
“Wh… whaaat!?”
Like I’d think something like that. Well, a little, but.
No, actually a lot, but having it pointed out made me irrationally angry.
I braced myself.
“Ugh, fine… face forward and sit up.”
Hanamori slowly turned toward me.
We ended up face to face. About thirty centimeters apart.
Hanamori’s pale skin, right in front of me. The black lace, shifting faintly with each breath.
“O-okay… excuse me.”
I reached out, searching for the hook. My hand was shaking.
Hanamori’s skin was hot.
It’s the fever. It’s just the fever, and yet that heat felt oddly vivid, searing itself into my fingertips.
Hanamori’s breath, right by my ear.
“…Mm.”
A small breath slipped out. My hand shook even more.
My fingers, searching for the hook, kept grazing against her chest, over and over.
“Asami-san…”
“Wh-what!?”
“You’re being way too slow… What are you even doing?”
“I—I mean! I’ve never unhooked someone else’s bra before…!”
I was absolutely not messing around.
The hook was uselessly buried under a mess of lace decoration, impossible to see.
Finally finding the hook, I hooked my finger under it.
Click.
The instant the hook came undone—
It slid down. The black lace, slipping free.
Right in front of my eyes, Hanamori’s chest was fully exposed.
White, and bigger than I’d expect—
Translucent skin. Soft-looking curves. Smooth like white porcelain, and a pink—
(Am I an idiot? Don’t stare like this. Why am I doing color commentary? Empty your mind, empty your mind.)
I desperately tried to lift my gaze. But my eyes, on their own, absolutely wouldn’t cooperate.
I could feel my own eyes darting all over the place.
Looking up, looking sideways, coming back again. Completely, obviously suspicious behavior.
My face was definitely bright red. My mouth felt loose too. No, it was definitely loose. Without the mask, I’d have looked like a total pervert.
“A-ah, um, hold on, I’ll get the T-shirt on you right away…!”
I fumbled for the T-shirt in a panic, and my hand slipped. The shirt fluttered to the floor.
“Ah.”
The instant I bent down to pick it up, Hanamori’s chest came into view again.
Closer than before. Point-blank range.
Too beautiful. Anyone would find it impossible to look away, seeing it this close.
Up, sideways, ceiling, but drawn back again anyway. My eyes darting back and forth completely.
Watching all this, Hanamori narrowed her eyes and gave a small laugh.
“…Asami-san.”
“Wh-what!?”
“Your eyes are darting around like crazy.”
Hanamori’s voice sounded different from usual. A little hoarse, but somehow enjoying herself.
Kohn, a small cough.
Blushing with embarrassment, but watching me with eyes that still held some composure. Her fever-glossed eyes held me, unrelenting.
“Th-they’re not, not darting around! Not at all!”
“Liar.”
Flatly declared. And instantly, too.
“They’re not darting.”
“Then where are you looking?”
Hanamori tilted her head slightly. For someone clearly embarrassed, the question was mean.
The motion made her chest sway, and my gaze got pulled right back. My eyes, powerless against gravity.
“C-ceiling! I’m looking at the ceiling. See.”
“You definitely just looked at my chest.”
“Didn’t.”
“Ah, that’s the fourth glance just now.”
“I said I didn’t!”
Hanamori laughed again, softly. Her cheeks flushed with fever, but the smile looked like she was enjoying this.
“…Really?”
Hanamori said it, slowly.
“You really are a pervert, huh.”
The way she said it was unnervingly sultry.
A slightly hoarse, breath-laced, feverish voice.
Looking down at me with flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, murmuring “pervert.”
My brain completely froze.
No good, at this rate some new door inside me is going to open.
“Come on, just put the shirt on already! Hurry up and put it on!”
Humiliating. Half in tears, I pulled the T-shirt over Hanamori’s head.
Finally got her arms through, straightened the hem.
Hah, hah. Finally over.
What even was that? What kind of situation was that, exactly?
Is this some kind of torture disguised as caretaking?
“…Phew.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed. My heart was pounding hard. I felt like I was sweating from every pore.
“Asami-san.”
“…What?”
“Your face is bright red.”
Hanamori murmured it in a feverish voice.
She lay back down on the bed. Her body’s outline visible through the T-shirt. Disheveled hair. Flushed cheeks.
“…Well then, next is the bottom half.”
“Please, I’m begging you, no more.”
I covered my face with both hands and let out a sigh. Hanamori narrowed her eyes and laughed.
This girl is absolutely toying with me, her senior.
I can’t take any more of this. My heart won’t survive. My lifespan just took a hit. Definitely shaved off three years.
All of it, Hanamori’s fault.
Sick and still teasing people like this.
Supposedly weak with a high fever, and yet I’m the one who’s completely done for.
Genuinely infuriating. Hateful, even.
And yet, cute, and sultry, and I found myself falling for Hanamori even more.