”“………””

We remained embraced, motionless for a while.
Still fully clothed.
Yet I could distinctly feel Amamiya Tōru’s warmth.
I wonder how she felt it.

I’d be happy if she felt it too.

The warmth she praised in me.
The warmth she taught me about.
And then, this light you found within me.

“How is it, Amamiya-san?”
“It feels… warm.”
“That’s good.”

Hearing her reply, I felt relieved.
Whether that warmth came from feeling comforted emotionally or from the physical warmth itself, I couldn’t tell.
But honestly, right now, it didn’t matter either way.

I broke the hug and stepped away from her.

　Amamiya Tōru reaches out towards me, looking reluctant to let go.
Seeing her like this, I ask the same question once more.

“How is it, Amemiya-san?”

At first, she seemed confused why I’d asked the same question twice.
But after a moment, she gives a single nod, as if understanding, murmuring “Ah…” Her expression remains unchanged.
Then, the answer I’d hoped for comes back.

“………Well, yes. I suppose it is rather cold.”
“I suppose so. …You no longer need to block those feelings.”

It wasn’t that she lacked the sensation of heat or cold.
She had simply lived in an environment where acknowledging them would only cause suffering, so she had escaped from those feelings. She had pushed painful things to the back of her mind, forced herself to forget, and lived that way.
But it’s alright now. Now, here in my home with Amamiya Tōru, this is a place where she doesn’t need to be like that.

I want her to live here, gradually reclaiming the sensibilities of a normal high school girl.

Yes, I…
I had absolutely no intention of sending Amamiya Tōru back to that flat.
To achieve that, I first had to persuade my parents.

“Right then, Amamiya-san.”
“Hmm? What is it?”
“Would it be alright if you went ahead and took a bath?”
“What about Mashiro?”
“I can go later. Since it’s Christmas, I thought I’d help prepare dinner.”
“Hmmmm…”

Amamiya Tōru hesitated.
I couldn’t fathom what she was pondering, but she thought deeply for over ten seconds.
　And the answer she gave was:

“Shall we take it together?”

“Eh? No—why?”
“I’d rather Mashiro come in with me.”
“………”

Though a glimmer of light had somehow returned to her vacant eyes, her expression remained utterly impassive.
Even so, Amamiya Tōru, who I’d like to believe was somewhat warmed by the hug, directed a flood of affection my way.
　Though her expressions were hard to read, her words, actions, and very aura poured out the sentiment: “I don’t want to be apart from you,” “I want to be with you.”
I’ll say it again: despite that expressionless face!

Facing Amamiya Tōru’s pure affection head-on, my face grew hot.

“But our bath isn’t that spacious…”
“Hm? Wouldn’t it be alright if we just snuggled up?”
“Huh… ///”

What is this?
Perhaps because we’ve already hugged and kissed, know each other naked, and have both drowned in lust before.
It seems she no longer feels any shame about seeing me naked in the bath, or showing me her body.

As for me, on the other hand…

Honestly, it’s terribly embarrassing.
I apologise for my blunt and tactless way of putting it, but isn’t there a slight difference in how we perceive nakedness during sex versus nakedness during bathing?
The best evidence for this is that when we experienced our first time, we each took separate baths afterwards.
　If asked to pinpoint the exact difference, I’d stammer, but… how to put it? Seeing someone naked from a perspective other than sexual intercourse — especially if it’s someone you like — just seems more… erotic.
So naturally, the reverse is true: I feel embarrassed being seen bathing by someone I like.

What should I do?

As I stood there at a loss, Mum’s voice drifted up from the stairs.

“Mashiro — I can manage dinner preparations on my own, so why don’t you go ahead and have a bath with your friend?”

“……”

We exchanged glances.
For once, I was dead serious.

“Well? Mashiro. Be a good girl and come take a bath with me.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”

It was the moment I realised my mother was definitely not on my side entirely.
　Well, there’ll be plenty of chances to explain things to her later.

Reluctantly, I headed towards the bathroom with Amamiya Tōru.

◇

In the changing room outside the bathroom.
We undressed.
If you’re embarrassed about this sort of thing, it’s better to get all your clothes off before the other person does.
Fidgeting around waiting for the other person to undress might actually make them suspicious and draw attention.

　With that in mind, I intended to undress before Amamiya Tōru and hurry into the bath.

Suddenly, Amamiya Tōru touched my exposed skin.
It was my left arm.
She was looking at the white line etched into my left arm.

Turning towards her in surprise at the touch, my eyes also fell upon her skin.
　Peeking out from her half-removed uniform, her skin — hidden until just moments ago — revealed a bruise of a deeper, purplish-blue hue than the areas already visible.

Painful…

That’s what I thought.
I hoped, with all my heart, that no scar would remain on her beautiful, delicate skin.

For her part, she stroked this white line of mine — which now caused me no pain whatsoever — her voice trembling.

“Doesn’t this hurt?”

She had seen this scar before, the one I had always believed to be magic.
Yet I had never once attempted to explain it to her.
Sensing my reluctance to discuss it, she too had never brought it up deliberately, save for that first time.

　But now it was different.

Amamiya Tōru was clearly showing interest in my white line, bringing it up as a topic.
She was trying to understand the pain.
I suppose it was because she herself was currently covered in wounds and experiencing pain.
The meaning of a wound differs greatly between self-inflicted and inflicted by others.
She surely understood that too, and was trying to draw close, thinking that perhaps now she could understand me.

　Faced with her like this, I couldn’t bring myself to keep my secret hidden any longer.

“Shall we talk while soaking in the bath and warming ourselves?”

New or old, it doesn’t matter.

Two people bearing wounds.

Naked before each other, licking each other’s wounds.
Whether that becomes literal, I still don’t know.