Volume 5 Episode 09

 Lately, Miyagi has been staying close to me.

Today is no different.

Well, she’s in a bad mood as usual, though.

"Sendai-san, do I really have to choose from these?"

Miyagi furrowed her brows and spoke in a slightly lowered voice.

"You can pick something else, but I’m not bringing out anything except skirts."

On Sunday, when we’d promised to go out for dinner together, three skirts that had survived Miyagi’s endless complaints this one’s too short, that one’s too long, I don’t like this color were lined up on my bed.

I never thought she’d actually go along with playing dress-up.

We were supposed to head out in the evening, and since killing time until then would be better with two people than alone, I invited Miyagi over. When she asked, "What are we doing?" I requested either makeup or dress-up. I didn’t force her to choose, and I was ready to drop it if she said no, but Miyagi picked dress-up and then somehow put herself in a bad mood over it.

"How about the one in the middle?"

I addressed Miyagi, who was wearing such a severe expression that I almost felt sorry for the skirts, and pointed to the midi-length flare skirt.

"No."

"Then how about going without wearing anything?"

"That would just make me a pervert."

"If you don’t like them, just choose any one. I can bring other skirts out again."

I’m not particularly obsessed with skirts, but I haven’t seen Miyagi in one for a while, so I want to see her in one after all this time. If she’s even slightly willing, I’d like her to wear it.

"......I’ll take the middle one. I’m changing, so get out."

Miyagi muttered her answer and pushed at me as if driving me away. If I said something stupid like changing in front of me, our whole plan to go out for dinner might get canceled, so I obediently left my own room.

Lately, she’s been too straightforward.

Other people might not call this level straightforward, but the other person is Miyagi. Compared to how she used to be, I think she’s straightforward to a frightening degree. The temperatures have been absurdly high for May, so maybe the heat’s making her act strange.

I leaned against the door.

A skirt longer than the one Miyagi chose swayed gently.

It’ll be June soon, and July will follow in no time, and Miyagi might grow even stranger in the heat. No, maybe it’d be good if she does. The rebellious Miyagi isn’t bad, but I also want to fully enjoy this straightforward version of her.

"You can come in now."

While I was thinking something that wouldn’t surprise me if Miyagi kicked my leg for it, her voice reached me. I opened the door and stepped inside.

A soft flare skirt and an unhappy face.

Miyagi stood in front of the bed, looking even more displeased than before she’d changed.

I was surprised she could make a face more disgusted than when muddy water splashes up from a passing car on a rainy day while you’re wearing someone else’s clothes, but she was indeed wearing the middle skirt she’d chosen.

"It suits you. You look cute."

When I honestly told her what I thought, a flat voice came back.

"You don’t have to say things like that."

"Normally, you’d at least give your impression. Since we’re at it, how about changing the top too?"

The thin sweatshirt she’s wearing matches the skirt, but I want to indulge in dress-up a little more.

"This is fine. More importantly, let’s just go."

Miyagi replied curtly.

"Then where should we go?"

I want to dress her from head to toe in clothes I like, do her makeup, and play with her to my heart’s content, but today’s objective is dinner. If I push her any further and sour her mood, it’ll only cause trouble.

"The nearby family restaurant is fine. I don’t want to go far."

Perhaps conscious of the skirt, Miyagi kept glancing down at her legs.

"Got it. Let’s go to the family restaurant."

I left the room with her and headed to the entrance.

When I slipped on my shoes and opened the door, something tugged at my clothes.

"What should I wear?"

Miyagi looked at me with a troubled expression.

"Sneakers should be fine, right?"

"Got it."

Miyagi pulled a pair of sneakers from the shoe cabinet and put them on. When I looked her over and said cute again as my verdict, I was shoved out the door.

We went down the stairs and headed toward the family restaurant.

Walking together in skirts reminded me of our high school days. We hardly ever walked side by side in our uniforms, but having Miyagi in a skirt beside me made those after-school hours feel closer, and it stirred a faint nostalgia.

However, it didn’t seem like Miyagi was thinking the same thing.

She walked silently along the road leading to the restaurant.

The sounds of passing cars and children’s voices.

The evening town was filled with noise, so the silence between us didn’t bother me. Maybe because the temperature was unusually high for May and there was no breeze, it felt hot to me, but Miyagi seemed unaffected. She kept moving forward, steadily ahead. We could’ve slowed down, but her pace was brisk.

It made me want to grab her hand and slow her down.

I started to reach out, then stopped.

Instead, I matched her pace and kept walking.

Since She's in a good mood for once, I don’t want to risk having my hand shaken off. Even if we reach the restaurant quickly, even if dinner ends soon, we still have plenty of time.

Though I don’t know if Miyagi will spend it with me.

"After we eat, what are you going to do, Miyagi?"

I called out to her as she hurried ahead.

"I’ll think about it after eating."

Her reply couldn’t exactly be called enthusiastic, and soon we stepped inside the family restaurant.

We looked over the menu and placed our orders.

We chatted a little about recent events and trivial things.

Miyagi mostly listened, but if I asked, she’d talk about books she’d bought or things related to university. The conversation couldn’t be called lively, but it had never been lively even in high school, so it didn’t bother me. Still, without much talking, the meal ended quickly, and we were back home less than two hours after leaving.

"So, have you decided what to do next?"

I took off my shoes at the entrance and asked her.

"Can I go to your room? I want to return the skirt too."

"Sure."

Lately, Miyagi really is strange. Even on days when she seems irritable, she somehow ends up staying near me. Today’s the same. She’s coming to my room now, and she’ll probably sit beside me.

I don’t understand what she’s thinking.

But I find that comforting.

"Miyagi, do you want something to drink?"

I stopped in the common area and looked at her.

"No."

The curt reply came back, and we went straight to my room. I switched on the light and hesitated over whether to turn on the air conditioner. No matter how hot it is, it’s still May. Considering the temperature, it’d be reasonable to turn it on, but using the air conditioner this early in the year feels somehow wrong, so I decided against it.

"Sendai-san."

When Miyagi, who was using the bed as a makeshift chair, called out to me just as I was about to sit beside her, she kicked my leg. With no choice, I sat on the floor and looked up at her.

"What?"

"Lick my foot."

"I haven’t heard that command in a while. But there are no more commands now."

There’s no five thousand yen between us anymore.

What remains is only a roommate relationship.

"It’s a penalty game. Sendai-san, if I hadn’t said it, you wouldn’t have kept your promise to go out to eat, right?"

"I was only a little late in keeping my promise, but I kept it properly without anyone having to tell me."

"Then, instead for the skirt."

Miyagi speaks in a low voice.

Her mood is clearly worse than it was before we left the house.

"The skirt?"

"Yes. Since I listened to what Sendai-san said and became a dress-up doll, now Sendai-san should listen to what I say."

I see.

So that’s why she obediently wore the skirt.

Only now do I understand the meaning behind Miyagi accepting my suggestion while still complaining. I don’t think she’d planned from the beginning to make me lick her feet, but I’m certain she intended to make me do something under the guise of an exchange.

"I’ll follow the order, but I won’t do anything weird."

"Licking feet isn’t weird for Sendai-san, I think. You’ve done it many times, and you like my feet, right?"

Saying something completely un-cute while dressed so cutely, Miyagi kicks my shoulder and crosses her legs. The hem of her skirt sways, drawing my gaze to her feet. My consciousness slips back to our high school days, and Miyagi’s room surfaces in my mind.

I almost reach for her feet without thinking, so I clench my hand tight instead. It’s not good to do that kind of thing now. But from Miyagi’s attitude, I can tell she won’t back down at all.

"It’s unfair if Sendai-san doesn’t listen even though I did."

Miyagi’s voice falls over the top of my head, and I let out a small breath without her noticing.

"From taking off the socks?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them.

I remove Miyagi’s socks, support her heel with my hand, and bring my face closer. My vision fills with her healthy feet, not overly pale, and I press my lips against the top of her foot.

The middle, the base of her toes.

After kissing her several times, a firm voice comes down.

"Lick properly."

If I could, I would’ve avoided this kind of situation. To me now, licking feet feels unbearably raw.

But since Miyagi insists and won’t yield, there’s no helping it.

I touch the tip of my tongue to the tip of her index toe and slowly lick up to the base. I feel Miyagi’s body heat transfer to me, and it’s as if my own temperature rises in response. I should’ve turned on the air conditioner, but I can’t do that now.

When I roll the skirt up to her knees, my heart pounds loudly at the sight of them after so long.

I slide my hand from her heel to her arch.

When I slowly stroke up toward the base of her toes, Miyagi calls my name in an annoyed voice.

"Sendai-san."

That means stop, so I kiss the top of her foot again and press the tip of my tongue against it. I trace upward to her ankle and place a kiss on her shin.

My heartbeat is so loud it feels like a speaker’s been attached to my chest. I breathe out, then in, short and shallow.

I press my tongue against the bony ridge and lick along it. My fingers trail over her calf and stroke the back of her knee, and Miyagi’s leg jerks. Her foot tries to pull away as if she dislikes it, so I grip her calf firmly and lick upward along the bone. I press a hard kiss to her knee and finally pull my face away.

"Continue."

Miyagi kicks my shoulder.

"I can’t."

"Why?"

"Just because. It’s over."

"Don’t end it on your own."

"If I’m allowed to lick somewhere other than your feet, I’ll continue."

"That’s not the order. Lick my feet."

Miyagi says it with irritation, uncrossing her legs and placing them on my thigh as if to command me to lick.

I tried to hold on to my reason, at least.

But I can’t anymore.

The screw fastening my reason loosens. No, I can hear it coming free and falling. The screw that was already easy to loosen rolls somewhere in this room and hides itself where it can’t be found. No, I have no intention of searching for it. The reason that once restrained my emotions loses its anchor, collapses, and melts like ice. In this heated room, that shapeless reason won’t return to what it was.

I push Miyagi’s foot aside and stand.

"What?"

I hear her voice. I hesitate for a moment, then place my right knee on the bed. I set my hand on her shoulder and push gently. I knew it would be like this, but her back doesn’t meet the bed.

"Miyagi, let me push you down."

"Absolutely not. Sendai-san’s thinking strange things."

Since living together with Miyagi, I’ve maintained our roommate relationship by exchanging a few words and sharing meals. Even while feeling dissatisfied with that arrangement, I told myself I wanted to keep it.

"I won’t deny it."

I’ve always harbored impure feelings, and I carry dreams I can’t tell Miyagi about.

That’s why I said I wouldn’t follow this order.

Lately, Miyagi’s been strange, giving odd commands that lead to situations like this.

These impure feelings feel like something Miyagi herself cultivated, and it’s troubling for her to order me to lick her feet and then pretend not to know what comes after. I refused properly. Since she ignored what I said, this is Miyagi’s fault.

"Sendai-san, move."

Miyagi speaks firmly.

"What will you do if I move?"

"I’ll go back to my room."

"Then I won’t move."

"Move."

Her eyes are sharp, her voice low.

But she doesn’t kick me or bite me.

She doesn’t push me away and try to escape either.

She could do all of that. The fact that she doesn’t might be because she believes I won’t do something she truly hates.

If that’s the case, I don’t want to betray that trust.

"Miyagi."

My voice turns hoarse.

Slowly, deliberately.

If I want to remain someone she can trust, I should at least wait until Miyagi allows me into her room before approaching her. But I don’t think I can wait for that uncertain day. I want to reach her at the speed of running through the wind.

"Please forgive what I’m about to do."

The room is silent, and only my words echo.

Our eyes meet.

I push her shoulder once more.

Lightly, slowly.

And just like that, as if everything before was a lie, Miyagi’s back easily sinks into the bed.

"What are you going to do now?"

Looking up at me, Miyagi asks, testing.

"Will you forgive me if I say it clearly?"

I comb my fingers through her hair.

When I take a strand and try to bring it to my lips, she presses her forehead against mine to stop me.

"No way I’ll forgive you."

"Right. That’s why I’m asking."

"You and I are roommates, aren’t we?"

"We’re roommates. We’ve been roommates, and we’ll stay that way."

"Liar. What Sendai-san wants to do isn’t something roommates do."

"It’s fine even if roommates do it, isn’t it?"

The word roommate only refers to people who live in the same house. What they do doesn’t matter, and even if I do something now, that relationship won’t change. I know it’s sophistry, but if Miyagi needs the word roommate, I want to leave it intact.

I don’t know whether she’ll forgive me.

"Sendai-san always says whatever’s convenient."

"You can become convenient too, Miyagi."

"No. I won’t."

Miyagi declares it, and the conversation falls silent.

Her hand lands on my shoulder and pushes hard.

Even if she doesn’t forgive me, I think I still want to go forward. But if Miyagi really says she hates it, I think I want to give up too.

I'm a bit hesitant, and when I try to sit up, Miyagi's hand lets go, and I hear a small voice.

"If I don't allow it, what will you do?"

I can endure it if she's in a bad mood or doesn't smile, but I don't want to be strongly rejected, and I don't want her to hate me.

"Miyagi, I will absolutely never do this kind of thing again. Even while we're living together, and even after we stop living together. I absolutely won't do it."

"You say you absolutely won't do it, but you'll break the promise, right?"

Miyagi stares at me with a face that makes it impossible to tell what she's thinking.

"I won't break it. I can swear on this piercing."

I touch the mark I placed on Miyagi with my own hands, the small silver piercing. After pressing my lips to it, which feels like nothing yet somehow special, I whisper in her ear.

"I promise."

"It's probably just a casual promise anyway. Sendai-san, you lie so easily."

"Did it sound like I was saying it casually? This is that kind of piercing. I absolutely won't break the promise."

I kiss the small decoration once more and lightly bite her earlobe.

Miyagi touches my hair and runs her fingers over my ear. She touches my earlobe as if there's a piercing there even though there isn't, but then she slowly pushes my shoulder as if to keep me away. It only seems like she's not allowing what comes next, so I pull my body away on my own.

There's still the part of me that wants to go further and the part that thinks I should give up, and I'm hesitating.

But this promise is one I must not break.

I reach out my hand and touch Miyagi's piercing with my fingertip.

"Miyagi. I'll properly keep the promise."

It's not like I have no lingering feelings.

Even so, when I try to get off the bed, she calls out "Sendai-san," and I look at Miyagi.

Our gazes meet.

Miyagi takes a small breath.

She doesn't say anything.

Unable to bear the silence, I add words to assure her of the promise: "It's okay."

Then, in a voice so small it seems like I might miss it, Miyagi says.

"The light."

"Huh?"

"Turn it off."

The voice I hear is something I never expected, and I forget to respond as I get off the bed. I use the remote on the table to turn off the light, leaving only the nightlight on, but Miyagi says in an angry tone, "Turn it all off." I do as she says and turn off the nightlight too.

"Sendai, close the curtains too."

"I haven't opened the curtains since I got back, so they're closed, but."

"Check if there's any gap."

As she says, I check the curtains and find a slight gap. I turn on the nightlight once, close the curtains properly, and then turn it off. After eliminating as much light as possible, with all outlines blurred, I quietly return to Miyagi.

"Miyagi."

I touch her, who doesn't respond, and bring my body closer.

I stroke her hair, blurred in the thin darkness, and overlap our lips.

There's no words.

I drop several kisses on her temple, her cheek, her ear.

Being in a room that's close to pitch black makes it feel like we're cut off from the outside world, but I know that if I step outside, there are people everywhere to sweep away, and I don't think something like we're the only two in this world. But this room is a space just for me and Miyagi, and no one can disturb us. Nothing like last summer vacation will happen. Even if it does, I have no intention of stopping midway anymore.

I think that strongly, but Miyagi beneath my body is so quiet that I become anxious.

"Hey, Miyagi. I won't go out even if the intercom rings. I won't answer if my smartphone rings, and I won't let you answer either. But right now, we can still stop. Is it okay for Miyagi to continue like this?"

I ask before my reason completely melts and I lose control.

"Sendai-san, you're noisy. If you're going to do it, just do it quietly."

I hear her curt voice, and she bites my neck. Pain runs through the spot near my shoulder, but it seems moderated, so it's not enough to make me want to cry out like usual. Her teeth dig into the flesh firmly, and then she releases it right away. In return, when I sweetly bite her jaw, she pushes my shoulder, and I strongly sink my teeth into her neck. Miyagi pushes me as if she dislikes it. When she moves, the shampoo scent that feels unusually sweet, even though it's the same as always, makes me dizzy.

I touch her hair that seems to blend into the darkness and move my fingers as if tracing the shape of her ear. I touch the tip of my tongue to the piercing above her earlobe, and then lick upward as if confirming the feel of the bone. The world is ink-black, and everything is blurred, but the contours come through clearly from the parts I'm touching.

"Miyagi."

I whisper softly and insert my tongue into her ear.

Miyagi roughly pulls my hair, but there's no strength in it.

"It tickles."

I hear her dissatisfied voice.

"Endure it."

After telling her that in one word, when I lick her ear, she kicks me with her foot.

"Hey Miyagi, that hurts."

"It's because Sendai won't stop."

"There's no way I'd stop. Just be quiet for a bit."

I stroke her ear and sweetly bite it.

"So, it tickles..."

In the middle of her words, when I put strength into my teeth clamping her ear, Miyagi catches her breath.

I kiss below her ear and lick her neck. Even though she walked outside and the room is hot, so she must be sweating, it feels sweet like licking flower nectar. It might be because of the shampoo, or maybe because I'm getting so messed up that my senses are going haywire.

As if savoring Miyagi, I run my tongue over the indented part of her neck and loosely bite it. I stroke her side over her clothes and head downward. When I slip my hand under the hem of her sweatshirt and touch her side directly, my hand sticks to her sweaty skin, and Miyagi's body temperature and breathing come through. Wanting to feel her more, I press my hand firmly and touch her ribs as if rolling up her clothes, but my arm is grabbed.

"If you take off my clothes, I'll get mad."

"It's okay. I won't take them off."

When I say that, the hand grabbing my arm lets go.

I stroke around below her ribs, the soft part. Even as I move my hand slowly, Miyagi doesn't say anything, but because of the thin clinging darkness, I can't see her expression well. I think it's just that the act of having what covers her body removed is embarrassing. I want to think that.

I run my finger to the center of her body, her navel, and head upward. Advancing without rolling up the sweatshirt any further, when I touch her bra, my arm is grabbed again.

"I just said I will hate you if you take them off."

"I won't take it off. Just touching."

When I kiss her cheek and whisper, the hand grabbing my arm lets go.

Really, I want to remove all the underwear and clothes covering Miyagi, but I want to respect her wishes.

Quietly, slowly, I touch her chest over her underwear.

I kiss her neck and gently move my hand.

The feel of the lace and fabric covering her chest comes through more than the softness, but when I apply a little pressure, her body twitches under my hand. I touch the strap and quietly, gently slide my fingertip downward.

"I don't want that."

I hear her small voice and stop my hand.

"It's dark, nothing is visible, and I won't take anything off. I just want to touch Miyagi."

“No good.”

“Even if I don’t take them off?”

“Even if you don’t take them off, it’s no good.”

Her voice isn’t especially firm or cold; I can’t quite tell whether she truly means it.

The truth is, I want to touch her chest, her back, her waist.

And everything else too.

Every single part of Miyagi.

I want to kiss every part of her.

I want her to let me do that.

But I don’t want to do anything Miyagi doesn’t want. My desire and Miyagi’s wishes stand opposed, and if they were placed on a scale, Miyagi’s wishes would outweigh mine.

“…Okay.”

I withdraw the hand that had been inside her clothes, then slide it along Miyagi’s neck. Slowly, I let my hand trail downward and rest it over her chest on top of her sweatshirt, and immediately she grabs my hand.

There’s a fair amount of strength in her grip. She’s holding me tightly, but it doesn’t feel like she hates it. Even so, I don’t want to hear “no” again. If only I could slowly learn what’s “okay” and what’s “not okay,” but I don’t think Miyagi will give me that kind of time. I let out a small breath, then press my lips to her neck and suck hard. At once, my back is slapped.

“No marks.”

She has so many conditions. Why did she let me do this in the first place? The question rises to my throat, but I know that the moment I ask it, this time we have will probably come to an end.

“Kissing is okay, right?”

I ask to make sure, but there’s no reply.

I take her silence as permission and cover Miyagi’s lips with mine, slipping my tongue inside. Beyond the softness of her lips, I feel the hard edge of her teeth, then lightly brush the tip of her tongue. When I nudge it gently, Miyagi responds. Not eagerly, but she responds. That soft yet firm, warm presence moves slightly and steals my ability to think. Our slick tongues intertwine, and I forget how to breathe properly.

I don’t know why only Miyagi can melt my reason like this. I don’t know why I want to kiss her so desperately.

Even so, my body moves of its own accord. I bite her lip, lick it, kiss her again and again. Miyagi’s breathing turns uneven, and mine grows shallow as well. More than the lack of air, what I feel most intensely is the pleasure of our body heat blending together. Miyagi’s breaths break into short bursts, and voiceless sounds spill from her. That unsteady breathing excites me, and I can barely endure how badly I want to go further.

I pull my lips away and thread my fingers through hers.

Because it’s dark and I can’t clearly see Miyagi even though she’s right in front of me, the sensation in my hands feels sharper than ever. Just touching her feels good.

I press my lips to her cheek, then kiss her ear once more.

I release our intertwined fingers and grasp the hem of her sweatshirt, and immediately my hand is restrained. Slowly, I take her hand instead and bring it to my lips. I kiss her fingertips, the back of her hand, her wrist. Then I gently lift her sweatshirt and press my lips to the soft skin of her stomach.

Once. Twice.

I kiss her and pull away.

I raise the sweatshirt a little higher and press my lips beneath her ribs.

When I lightly graze her there with my teeth, Miyagi’s body jolts, and her hands clutch my head.

I press the tip of my tongue to her skin, slide it slowly, and kiss her again.

I want to make sure that whenever she remembers today and recalls each kiss, she’ll remember exactly where my lips touched. So everywhere she allows, I leave a kiss. Teasingly, tenderly, I mark her with touches that leave no trace.

I trace along her ribs with my fingertips, then press my lips firmly against her solar plexus.

When I let the tip of my tongue linger there, Miyagi’s body trembles.

Each kiss makes her breathing grow shorter and shallower, and mine falls into the same rhythm.

I slide my hand along her side, stroking over her hip bone through the skirt. As I keep moving my hand and begin to lift the skirt, Miyagi’s body quivers slightly and she pushes at my shoulder.

I stop my hand and look at Miyagi in the faint light.

I don’t hear her say “no.”

“Miyagi.”

When I call her name softly, her fingers dig into my shoulder.

She doesn’t protest. The pressure on my shoulder isn’t strong enough to call resistance.

She knows what I’m about to do.

I think she’s only hesitating, even though she understands.

Last summer, there was an incident that hinted something like this might happen someday.

“You’ll let me, won’t you?”

I understand why Miyagi hesitates.

I ask as gently as I can, and the hand on my shoulder loosens.

“Sendai-san, you pervert.”

“Pervert is fine.”

I lift the skirt the rest of the way, it had only been halfway before, and run my fingers along Miyagi’s thigh. Her body stiffens, and I pause.

I can feel her tension, and for a moment, I hesitate too.

Touching her there right now might be too abrupt.

But—

I draw in a breath to steady my ragged breathing, then let it out.

Quietly, I slide my fingers forward.

Miyagi’s body doesn’t relax, but no words come telling me to stop.

I hook my fingers into the edge of her underwear, suddenly worried about my nails.

I never expected this to happen, so I have no idea how long my nails are. I’m fairly sure they aren’t long, but I don’t want to hurt her.

My hand freezes.

Miyagi shifts slightly.

Afraid she might pull away, I slip my hand inside her underwear. I’ve never touched anyone in a place like this before. Of course I haven’t. I’m nervous. My body, which had been moving on its own until now, suddenly feels like a wind-up toy running out of energy. Slowly, carefully, I move forward until my fingertips reach a place with a completely different texture and heat from anywhere else I’ve touched on Miyagi, and I encounter something slick and wet.

My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might shatter, and the center of my mind burns as hot as the place between her legs. Fearfully, hesitantly, I move my finger the slightest bit.

“Nn…”

A voice I’ve never heard before reaches my ears, and I freeze instantly. That sweet, almost indulgent sound is clearly different from her usual voice, and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest in shock.

“…Like I thought… no good.”

Miyagi speaks so softly I almost don’t catch it.

But from the sensation at my fingertip, I can tell her body isn’t rejecting this. Her body has simply responded to being touched. Perhaps it would respond that way to anyone. Even so, what’s at the tip of my finger right now exists because she allowed me to touch her, and that fact fills me with more joy than Miyagi could possibly imagine.

In this moment, hearing “no good” is something I can’t accept.

I can’t stop.

“If it truly becomes impossible, tell me.”

I let my damp fingertip glide over her most sensitive place, stroking slowly and gently.

Miyagi makes no sound now.

Instead, her breathing grows rougher in time with the slow movement of my finger. I’ve never felt Miyagi’s body heat this intensely before. Hotter than anywhere I’ve touched today, it feels as though my finger might melt, and even the breath I exhale scorches my throat.

Strength gathers in my fingertip, and Miyagi’s body shifts slightly. Something thick and syrupy, our emotions mingling together, clings to my finger and wets me.

I keep moving my fingertip slowly.

As if inviting me, Miyagi’s heat overflows, and my finger sinks deeper within her.

Faintly, I hear Miyagi’s voice dissolve into the dim darkness.

In this pitch-black world, Miyagi remains blurred. Even though I’m touching her so much, I still feel unsatisfied. I want to know her more.

Just a little more.

If I slide my finger just a little further, I can mingle with even more of Miyagi’s warmth. I can come to know depths of her that no one has ever touched. I can know a Miyagi who belongs only to me, a Miyagi no one else could ever know.

Her ragged breathing brushes irregularly against my cheek and ear.

The emotions hidden beneath my dissolved reason try to push me forward, yet I forcibly still the fingers that had been moving so slowly.

"Sen... dai... san...?"

Miyagi calls to me in a hoarse voice.

Drawn in by a voice I have never heard before, I feel the urge to slide my finger toward the place that leads to the deepest part of Miyagi.

But since she chose to wrap herself in dim darkness and remain covered by clothes and underwear, if I were to do something like that, she would surely run away from me.

"Are you okay?"

When I ask softly, Miyagi tugs at my clothes in reply.

I can't clearly see her expression.

I don't want my hand to be brushed away simply because I tried to learn everything I want to know.

I restrain my impatience and move my halted hand only within the range that will probably be allowed.

At the very least, I want her to call me Hazuki.

I know it's a wish that will absolutely never come true, but I want her to call me Hazuki in that sweet voice she normally never lets me hear, and I want her to let me call her Shiori.

If that's impossible, then I want to pry apart those tightly sealed lips and the teeth she's likely biting down on, and hear the voice Miyagi keeps swallowing.

But I know she won't allow any of it.

In that case, I should simply savor what is permitted.

I understand that.

Even so, I want to be permitted more.

I want to see Miyagi change because of my hand.

I want her to let only me hear the voices no one else is allowed to hear, and I want her to become even more disheveled.

From now on, and forever.

I want her to forgive me for thinking such things.

I slide my fingertip.

A fragment of Miyagi's emotion coils around me.

The room is hot, Miyagi is hot, and only the sensation at my fingertip feels strangely vivid.

The part of me that longs for Miyagi and the part of me trying to restrain myself tangle and blur together.

Not knowing what else to do, instead of calling her Shiori near her ear, I whisper, "Miyagi."

There is no answering "Hazuki."

Even so, I call her Miyagi again and again.

The whispering voice sounds hoarse, unlike my usual tone, yet as I keep repeating "Miyagi," she grips my clothes even tighter.

"Shut... up... be quiet..."

A broken voice reaches my ear, and our bodies press closer together.

But Miyagi pulled me close only to silence me. There is surely no deeper meaning.

Even so, the warmth of her body through the fabric makes it feel as though Miyagi wants me, and that thought makes me happy.

"Let me hear more of your voice, Miyagi."

The wish spills out, hoping that at least one thing might come true.

"No..."

A small voice, trying to suppress emotion, reaches me.

I strain to catch every syllable.

"Then say 'no' even more."

"You're annoying..."

The voice that seems ready to melt into the dimness tickles my ear.

Just hearing Miyagi's voice is enough to drive me mad, so I beg her again.

"...If I stay quiet, will you call me Hazuki?"

"No... way..."

My reason has melted because of Miyagi, yet hers hasn't fully dissolved.

It remains within her and pushes me back.

Even at a moment like this, Miyagi is still Miyagi, and I want to melt that remaining reason of hers.

"Then even if everything is 'no,' just kiss me."

When I lean closer to her, Miyagi pushes at my shoulder.

But there is almost no strength in her hand.

I press a kiss to her cheek and whisper, "Please."

Miyagi's hand moves to my cheek, then to my lips.

And then, as though surrendering, she brings her lips to mine.

The kiss isn't something Miyagi wanted.

It's only because I asked, unrelated to her own will.

Even so, the fact that she kissed me makes it feel as though my breathing will stop.

After our lips meet several times, Miyagi grips my shoulder.

Her breathing grows ragged, and the sounds she can no longer contain spill out.

The memories of last summer, which I once thought I remembered clearly but which gradually blurred with time, are being rewritten.

Miyagi's voice, her scent, her touch.

The fragments that sharpen the resolution of the dream I've seen so many times gather together.

I'm sure I'll dream of today's Miyagi again and again.

I'll probably feel regret each time a vivid dream replaces the uncertain parts with today's Miyagi, yet I can't stop, because I've always wanted to know what kind of voice she makes and what kind of expression she shows in moments like this.

When I press my finger more firmly against her, she bites my neck.

Her teeth sink in. It hurts.

But I believe this pain is connected to the pleasure Miyagi is feeling.

Thinking that, even the pain becomes a reason for my breathing to falter.

I think I'd be fine if she hurt me even more.

The emotion Miyagi feels transmits directly through her unrelenting teeth, and I feel as though my consciousness might slip away.

I'm the one touching her, and she's the one who should be feeling good, yet I feel good too.

I wish this moment could last forever.

But then the pain leaves my neck, and I hear Miyagi's labored voice.

"Sen... dai... san..."

From the way she calls me in such distress, I understand that Miyagi is nearing her limit.

Not yet. More. Longer.

The part of me that wants to stop my hand and stretch out this moment tries to take control.

I change the rhythm of my previously gentle finger.

Overflowing emotion dampens my fingertip mercilessly, and Miyagi grips my shoulder.

Harder than ever before.

But before I can even register pain, the strength drains from her body.

Only the uneven sound of Miyagi's breathing and my own ragged breaths echo through the room.

The sound of her exhale, the warmth of her body against mine, everything about Miyagi that I can feel is so intoxicating that I kiss her as she lies limp.

I brush her soft lips lightly, then lick her lower lip. As if she'd been waiting, her lips part slightly.

But the moment the tip of my tongue touches hers, she pushes it away.

"...It's hot."

Trying to steady her uneven breathing, Miyagi mutters and pushes my body back.

When I withdraw my finger, which had nearly fused with her, she nudges me aside and gets off the bed.

"Miyagi."

I try to ask where she's going, but before I can, I hear her murmur "Ouch" after apparently bumping into the table.

"Should I turn on the light?"

As I say it, I realize the remote isn't nearby.

"I'll turn it on myself."

"The remote is on the table."

The night light flicks on, and Miyagi returns holding a platypus plush.

Then she sits on the edge of the bed, pulls out several tissues, and wipes my hand.

The traces of Miyagi vanish from me.

She cleans my finger more carefully than usual, her head bowed so I can't see her expression.

My damp finger dries, Miyagi's warmth fades, and still she keeps her head lowered.

"I'm going to take a bath... I want to wash my body."

Miyagi stands and turns her back to me.

I want to stop her, but I can't find the words.

Because we skipped not just two but three or four steps on the staircase we should have climbed one by one, I feel uneasy about the order we've ignored until now.

"Miyagi."

She pauses at the door.

I still can't find the right words, yet I feel I have to say something.

"Are you okay?"

When I repeat the same words for what feels like the nth time today, she answers quietly, "Yeah."

There are no more words. With a soft click, the door closes, and Miyagi's presence disappears.

[T/N- this first r-rated chapter you get , so I'm celebration I want to give a spoiler for web novel. But it's big spoiler so