Episode 27: Drying Her Hair
I took a bath towel and gently wrapped it around Honoka’s wet hair.
The faint scent of shampoo drifted up softly with the steam.
Honoka said nothing, simply leaving herself entirely in my hands.
Even once we’d left the bathroom, she stayed pressed against my arm, clinging, unwilling to let go.
“Not cold?”
“…I’m fine.”
But I could tell her shoulders were trembling, just slightly.
I spread the towel wide and draped it gently over Honoka’s shoulders.
I wanted to dry myself too, but with her attached to me like this, there was nothing for it but to dry Honoka first.
Each time I drew the towel over her, her warmth came through, soft and diffuse.
At the same time, I could feel her leaning into me harder than usual.
“I’ll dry your hair a bit more, okay?”
“…Mm.”
She closed her eyes and let herself be handled, entirely passive.
Normally, I was the one who did this — leaning on her, letting myself be looked after.
But today it was Honoka who said nothing and simply entrusted herself to me, quietly.
A little bewildered, I wrapped my arms around her as if holding her close, and gently pressed the towel to her hair.
After a while of drying her carefully, her breathing slowly settled.
“…Okay, next you need to get dressed.”
“…Mm.”
But her arms didn’t loosen their hold.
I laughed softly and pulled her close again, just once more.
Being clung to like this — I didn’t mind it at all.
If anything, it made me a little happy.
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In front of the mirror, I switched on the hair dryer.
A low hum sounded, and warm air began to blow.
“Honoka, sit down.”
At my prompting, she obediently lowered herself into the chair.
Gripping the hem of my shirt tightly the whole time.
Seeing that, I smiled just a little, and held up the dryer to start drying her hair.
The warm air traced along her wet hair.
As I combed slowly through it with my fingers while drying, her long hair slid smoothly between them.
“Feel good?”
“…Mm.”
Honoka closed her eyes quietly.
But her hand stayed gripping the hem of my shirt the whole time.
I lifted her hair lightly now and then, adjusting the angle of the airflow so the heat reached evenly.
There was something oddly comforting about drying her hair like this.
…Maybe because I could feel Honoka entrusting everything to me.
“You’re being unusually clingy today, Honoka.”
I said it, teasing lightly.
At that, her shoulders gave a small twitch.
“…Do you hate it?”
A muffled voice came from somewhere within her hair.
“I don’t hate it. If anything, I’m happy.”
I laughed softly and stroked the top of her head.
She flinched, just for a moment — and then quickly lowered her face.
“…Yuna, I—”
Amid the sound of the dryer, Honoka murmured something, quiet and half-formed.
But the sound was swallowed by the noise of the dryer, and I couldn’t make it out.
“Hm? Did you say something?”
“…It’s nothing.”
Honoka said it softly, and, eyes still closed, let herself rest quietly in my hands.