Episode 55: Quiet Time
Her breathing had settled a little now, quiet and even in sleep.
Honoka was sound asleep against my chest.
Traces of tears still clung to her cheeks, and a faint redness lingered beneath her eyes.
Having made her cry this much — it pricked, sharp and aching, somewhere deep in my chest.
(I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.)
Apologizing over and over in my heart, I gently stroked her hair.
The feel of it was so dear to me that I kept doing it, again and again, as if confirming a warmth I’d almost lost.
Time passed quietly by.
Part of me wanted to stay like this forever, but the thought crossed my mind that I should probably start making dinner soon.
Honoka’s condition worried me too — I wanted to make her something warm.
“…Sorry, just for a bit.”
I whispered it quietly, and shifted my position, slowly.
Careful not to pull Honoka’s head away from my chest too suddenly, I eased her down, gently.
Quiet, careful.
I laid her head softly onto my lap.
At the weight of it against my thigh, I could feel Honoka’s warmth seeping through, slow and steady.
She didn’t stir, her brow relaxing as if at ease, her breathing settling into a soft, even rhythm.
Watching her like that, I smiled, just a little.
If simply being here beside her, without saying anything, was enough to bring her peace —
that alone felt like enough.
But meaning to step away, just for a moment, I started to sit up.
Trying carefully not to wake her, I began easing her head off my lap —
“…No… don’t go…”
A thin, faint voice came from below me.
Startled, I looked down, and Honoka had her eyes half open, gripping my wrist.
Her grip was weak, but desperate. As if she thought I might disappear somewhere again.
“Yuna… you said you wouldn’t go anywhere… didn’t you…”
Her voice was sleepy, and trembling faintly.
I gently held her hand back and knelt to meet her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking I’d make dinner…”
At that, Honoka pressed her lips together and looked down, averting her gaze.
“…You don’t have to make anything… right now… I just want you beside me…”
Those words squeezed tight around my heart.
Anxious, lonely, having trembled alone for so long — her feelings came through, painfully clear.
I sat back down beside her, quietly, and wrapped her hand in both of mine.
“Okay. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay right here.”
At that, Honoka let out a small breath and leaned against my shoulder.
Still drowsy, her body unsteady, she rested her weight against me.
Feeling her warmth, I kept gently stroking Honoka’s hair.