By the time Shirase got home, night had fallen completely. The sound of the TV carried clearly from the living room, so he figured Kojima Kana was stretched out on the sofa watching her shows as usual.
But after changing his shoes and stepping inside, he realized the mature beauty wasn't there at all.
"You're back?" came Kana's sweet voice—from his bedroom.
"Yeah. Why are you in my room?" he asked, heading that way.
"I had some free time, so I thought I'd tidy up a little. Your desk was filthy."
Her tone was casual and unhurried. Shirase felt a little warmth at the gesture and was about to thank her—until he reached the doorway and froze.
She was tidying up.
But—
Whatever words he'd been about to say caught in his throat.
Kana was bent forward, carefully wiping down his desk with a cloth.
Whenever it was just the two of them at home, she always dressed for comfort.
Tonight was no different: a loose light-blue T-shirt and short white-and-pink pajama shorts that left her smooth, shapely legs bare down to her slim calves and delicate, unshod feet.
Right now she happened to be facing the door, leaning forward. She was tall to begin with, and in that posture her long legs rose higher than the desk, the curve of her thighs accentuated by the motion.
The familiar, loose T-shirt gaped as she bent, its collar drooping low.
Realizing that, Shirase quickly turned his eyes away out of politeness.
Kana-nee's really the same as ever… so casual she doesn't even bother with a bra at home, he grumbled inwardly.
Oblivious, Kana kept cleaning, never thinking to guard herself around him. Still bent over, she asked lightly, "Did you have fun today? Hayama-kun has such a good reputation—it's almost too perfect to believe. Since you went out together, I take it things went well?"
"It was fine," Shirase said, nodding. Though seeing Hayama go home covered in bruises still left him feeling guilty.
The long-haired punk's grudge had been with him, but the others had gotten dragged into it anyway.
"That's good. With Hayama-kun's reputation, I'd be relieved if you two became friends." Kana smiled up at him, then bent down again to keep wiping.
She probably had no idea how dangerously attractive she looked like that—half-crouched, the line of her neck and collarbones smooth and pale, dipping just out of sight.
In Shirase's mind, Kana had always been beautiful and kind—sometimes stubborn, sometimes flustered by her own bravado, but still exactly the type he liked.
He forced himself not to stare and said, "I'll handle the rest. You should take a break."
"Oh? Worried about me?" Kana teased, lips curving into a playful smile.
But as she straightened, catching the shift of her collar in the corner of her eye, she froze.
She noticed Shirase deliberately looking away, bit her lip, and lowered her gaze, her hair falling forward to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks.
"Were you staring just now?" she asked, half-embarrassed, half-teasing.
"I already looked away. How could I still be staring?" he said honestly—since she'd caught him anyway.
Kana huffed softly, her face still pink. "Looks like my guess was right—you've reached that age where you start noticing girls."
Shirase's eyelid twitched. There was definitely more behind those words.
Kana straightened fully and tossed the cloth to him. "You finish the rest. Then go take a bath. I'll run the water."
He caught it. "I already showered after training."
"But you've been out all night. Another bath will feel better."
"Kana-nee… you're hiding something from me, aren't you?" Shirase said, narrowing his eyes.
Her gaze darted. "Why would I hide anything? Don't overthink it—I'm just being considerate."
"Considerate enough to shove me into the bath?"
"Nonsense." She rolled her eyes—eyes that shimmered with a soft, flustered light. "Anyway, finish cleaning. I'll go start the water."
Then she hurried out, practically fleeing.
Shirase watched her go, noting the sway of her hips. She was definitely hiding something.
But what?
When he finished tidying, he stepped into the living room. Kana sat watching TV—or pretending to, since her eyes flicked toward him every few seconds.
He decided to test her. "Bath's ready? Then I'll get in."
"That's the spirit," she said quickly, smiling a little too brightly.
Her cheeks were still flushed—whether from embarrassment or her usual natural allure, he couldn't tell.
Shirase grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. He'd just pulled off his shirt when a thought struck him.
Wait… she's not planning to wash my back again, is she?
He eyed the door handle. Considering how nervous she'd been earlier, it was entirely possible.
But if that were all, why the guilt? She'd already done it once before. Last time had gone fine—warm, even a little comforting.
As questions circled in his head, he settled into the bath. A few minutes later, he heard movement outside.
The door slid open, and Kana stepped in—still in the same casual outfit, towel in hand.
Just as I thought. Shirase sighed inwardly. So that's what she was planning. But what's she really after?
"I'll wash your back again," Kana said, her face blooming red like a ripe apple. "You won't get all shy this time, right?"
Even as she teased, she brushed her bangs aside with slender fingers, a futile attempt to hide how flustered she actually was.
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T/N: GHULP
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