Chapter 31

  Kengo and Marisa were still tightly embraced, the air filled with the faint scent of grass and lingering warmth.

  Marisa bit her lip lightly and buried her face in the crook of Kengo's neck, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent.

  Her golden hair was slightly messy, cheeks flushed red, yet she stubbornly clung to her pride, unwilling to show weakness.

  As she struggled to steady her ragged breathing, Kengo suddenly lowered his head and gently kissed her chest, tenderly licking her quivering bud.

  A jolt of electricity seemed to shoot through Marisa's entire body, and she bit her lip harder, her face blushing so deeply it looked as though it might drip crimson. Her voice came out in a trembling breath.

  "You... you idiot..." Though her words sounded like a scolding, they were laced with soft, spoiled affection. One hand clutched Kengo's shoulder as if to steady herself, while the other gripped the edge of the sofa involuntarily.

  Kengo followed her reactions, planting kisses down her belly with loving care, then slowly moved lower, gently kissing the sensitive petals below. Marisa trembled, eyes wide as she nearly bit through her lip.

  Her heart swelled with shame and desire, caught between wanting to lose herself in the sweetness and resisting the urge to surrender.

  "Hah... ahh... seriously, you really dare..." she gasped, her cheeks burning fiercely, yet her voice remained stubborn, "Who said you could... do that...!"

  But her protest sounded more like a weak bluff. Kengo paused, looking up at her with concern and affection. "Marisa, if anything feels uncomfortable, tell me. Your feelings matter more than anything."

  That sentence hit her harder than any kiss. Her heart was stirred, tangled with resentment that she was being led around by his tenderness.

  So she abruptly sat up, pushing his shoulder away slightly as she panted, locking eyes with him.

  "Don't get so cocky, idiot!" she declared with a defiant grin, though her face and ears were blazing. "Don't think... you're the only one who can take the lead! I'm Kirisame Marisa — I never lose!"

  Without another word, she launched herself forward, flipping the dynamic as she pushed Kengo back onto the sofa. Sitting on his lap, she glared down at him, amber eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark.

  "Hmph... watch how I 'exterminate' you!" she said with mock arrogance, her small hands trailing across his chest with a mix of curiosity and revenge. Her movements were still clumsy, but her boldness and refusal to surrender were on full display.

  Kengo looked up at her blushing face and couldn't help but smile warmly. He made no attempt to resist and instead gently wrapped his arms around her waist. "Alright, I won't move. I'll let you do the 'exterminating', Marisa."

  Hearing that, Marisa's face grew even hotter, but she tried to keep her fearless facade. She leaned closer to his ear, gently nibbling on his earlobe as she whispered breathlessly, "I don't want to be looked down on... You're mine... don't make me feel embarrassed again..."

  Kengo chuckled softly and ran his hand down her back. "I've never looked down on you, Marisa. To me, you're the brightest star in the sky."

  That heartfelt confession sent Marisa's heart into another frenzy. She gritted her teeth, pretending to stay composed. "Don't say such cheesy stuff... idiot!" she said, swatting his chest lightly — but her voice now carried unmistakable sweetness.

  Then she pounced again, locking lips with Kengo in a passionate kiss.

  Their breaths mingled, their body heat merging. In the midst of this deep night, Marisa, overwhelmed by warmth and pounding heartbeats, felt a happiness and belonging she had never known before.

  Deep within the magical forest, once quiet and still, strange moans, soft gasps, and the sound of shifting clothes and bodies began echoing through the trees.

  These noises, carried on the night wind, were faint yet oddly distinct.

  Under the moonlight, a warm light glowed through a small crack in the window of Marisa's cabin, slipping into the dark as it accompanied those strange sounds.

  Three tiny girls — Luna Child, Star Sapphire, and Sunny Milk — each with transparent wings, were curled up on a nearby tree branch. They had been peacefully asleep, but the unusual noise had stirred them awake.

  "Huh... what's that sound?"

  "It's kinda weird... is Marisa doing some scary experiment?"

  "It doesn't sound like her usual explosions... this is... um... something feels off...?"

  The three fairies exchanged confused glances, completely baffled.

  They were used to Marisa's frequent "boom!" noises from her magical experiments. But this sound... had a strange rhythm, mixed with soft feminine voices. It didn't match her usual explosive style at all.

  "What's she doing?" Sunny rubbed her eyes, still half-asleep and puzzled.

  "Sounds pretty intense... is she testing some kind of new magic?"

  Luna tilted her head, trying to deduce the spell from the noise. But rather than an experiment, it sounded more like... some kind of "activity"?

  Star bit her finger, brows furrowed. "I remember Chen once mentioned something about Yukari-Sama and Kyouya-San playing some kind of 'grown-up game' inside the gap... This sound... could it be that?"

  The trio stared at one another, even more confused. They knew Marisa was a passionate magic researcher, but none of her spells had ever made that kind of noise before.

  And there it was—clearly woven into the strange noises of the night—Marisa's breathy, feminine moans and another, deeper yet gentle male voice. That was unmistakably Kengo.

  "Kengo-San… Isn't he the one who grows crops in the Forest of Magic? He always shared his harvest with us! Such a kind big brother," Sunny murmured, recalling Kengo's warm smile and the time he helped her pick a fruit she couldn't reach. Her face softened in nostalgic fondness.

  "But now they're making those kinds of noises in the house… What kind of experiment could that possibly be?" Luna wondered aloud, unable to imagine any magical experiment involving rhythmic smacking sounds like that.

  "Should we go take a look?" she whispered, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

  As fairies known for their mischief and insatiable curiosity, the three of them exchanged a conspiratorial glance—one that clearly meant: Action. They fluttered their wings silently, gliding toward Marisa's cottage, careful not to make a sound.

  After all, anything loud enough to make Marisa cry out like that at night had to be either very dangerous… or very interesting.

  Outside the Kirisame Residence – by the window

  One of the small windows was slightly ajar. Through the curtain, they could see the flicker of warm light inside—and hear the noises even more clearly.

  "Ah… haah…"

  "You... idiot…"

  The soft, fragmented voices sounded undeniably sultry, accompanied by a steady pa-pa-pa rhythm. This clearly wasn't the sound of explosions or potion mishaps—it sounded far more like… flesh slapping against flesh.

  The fairies' faces simultaneously contorted in confusion and curiosity.

  Sunny pointed at the window and motioned, Should we peek?

  Luna and Star nodded. The three of them gently lifted a corner of the curtain, peeking through.

  Under the soft amber glow of the lamp, two entwined figures were visible on the sofa—clearly Marisa and a well-built man beside her.

  Both were completely naked, bodies pressed tightly together. Marisa was facing away from the window, her golden hair tousled and swaying with her movements, her breathing quick and shallow.

  The rhythmic sounds? They came from the two of them moving in a very intimate way…

  "Uh…" Star froze, nearly gasping aloud.

  "What… are they doing?" Luna's mouth hung open, her cheeks burning.

  "Whoa… Is Marisa testing a new kind of magic?" Sunny asked, mind reeling with questions, but her eyes glued to the scene.

  None of them had expected that the midnight noises weren't from explosives or dangerous alchemical experiments—but something so... explicit. The three fairies exchanged another what do we do now?! look, yet couldn't stop watching, curiosity pulling them in like moths to a flame.

  Marisa's moans and Kengo's low murmurs continued, mixed with the creaking of the sofa. Even the night air outside seemed to heat up from the intensity.

  The more they watched, the redder their faces grew. Deep down, they all knew they were witnessing a deeply private moment of love—but it was hard to look away.

  "This... is kind of... embarrassing," Luna muttered, flustered.

  "Should we leave…?" Star asked, visibly uncomfortable.

  "But… now I really want to know what they're doing…" Sunny clutched her head, torn between propriety and curiosity.

  Unable to resist their nosy nature, the three remained glued to the tiny window crack, doing their best to stay hidden. But as time passed, the scene grew even more intense—and their faces hotter.

  Then, during one particularly loud moan and body movement, Sunny lost her grip on the windowsill. Her wings fluttered in surprise and accidentally slapped against the wall with a soft smack.

  The three immediately jerked back from the window, covering their mouths in panic as they stared at each other, wide-eyed.

  "Oh no—did they hear us?"

  "Retreat! We definitely shouldn't be watching this!"

  "This is all Marisa's fault! I thought her experiments only exploded!"

  They whispered urgently to each other, finally squashing the fire of gossip in favor of decency.

  Tugging each other's sleeves, they flapped their wings in a panicked retreat, vanishing into the shadows of the forest. Behind them, only the soft crack in the window remained—still glowing warmly, and still echoing with passionate sounds.

  Inside the cottage, the two figures on the sofa hadn't noticed a thing—too lost in each other's embrace to sense the world outside.

  The Next Day — Noon, Inside Marisa's Cabin

  Sunlight streamed through the window, warm and gentle. Tree shadows danced lightly across the wooden floor of Marisa's cozy little home.

  Marisa slowly opened her eyes, awakening from sleep. She found herself wrapped in a soft, warm blanket.

  Her bare skin felt fresh and clean, as if last night's wild mess had been magically wiped away. The memories of the previous night—of intimacy so sweet and mortifying it made her toes curl—rushed back all at once, sending a fierce blush to her cheeks.

  Marisa turned over in bed and caught sight of her neatly folded clothes on the nearby sofa—her black-and-white witch outfit, her white undershirt… all freshly cleaned and carefully arranged. Not a wrinkle in sight.

  On the small table next to it sat a steaming plate of fragrant omurice with a side of fresh vegetable salad, and a handwritten note:

  "Don't forget to eat when you wake up. Don't starve yourself until afternoon again. The food's a bit light—I figured you'd be too tired to handle anything heavy.

  If your back feels sore today, skip the broom. Just walk, okay?

  —Kengo"

  Marisa stared at the note for a while, the blush on her cheeks slowly spreading to the tips of her ears. She muttered under her breath:

  "…Six whole hours… This guy's stamina really isn't human…"

  As the memories of last night's passionate moments came flooding back, her face turned bright red again. She instinctively pulled the blanket up over half her face and grumbled softly:

  "Damn it… I shouldn't have tried to act tough. Now I don't even have the strength to ride my broom…"

  Grumbling aside, Marisa still sat up quickly, dressed herself in the freshly folded clothes, and dug into the food.

  The warm omurice, filled with Kengo's familiar tenderness, made her heart flutter. Even as she blushed, she couldn't stop smiling as she finished the meal.

  Not long after breakfast, there came a knock at the door.

  Outside stood her good friend Alice, her gentle and elegant voice ringing out: "Marisa, I came to see you! You in there?"

  Marisa opened the door and greeted her with a grin. "Oh hey, Alice! What brings you here today?"

  Alice, dressed as always in her blue and white dress, stepped inside with Shanghai and Hourai dolls in hand. "It's tea time this afternoon. I thought I'd invite you to join me at the Hakurei Shrine with Reimu. Let's go together?"

  Marisa instinctively reached for her broom—but her hand stopped midway. A sharp ache from her lower back reminded her of her… current condition. She immediately shook her head.

  "Ah—n-no can do. I, uh… I can't ride my broom today!"

  Alice blinked in surprise, her expression turning concerned. "What's wrong? You're usually the first one out the door. You're turning down an invitation? Are you sick? Or did your broom break?"

  Flustered, Marisa looked away, her face reddening as she waved her hands. "No, I'm not sick! It's just… just… uh… sports injury!"

  "Sports injury?" Alice raised an eyebrow, growing even more suspicious.

  "You don't even do sports… What are you talking about, Marisa?"

  Marisa stammered, her expression awkward as she avoided Alice's gaze.

  "Anyway! I'm just not in shape to ride today! Don't ask so many questions!"

  Alice narrowed her eyes and gave her a slow once-over. That's when she noticed something odd—Marisa's walking posture looked a little off, like her legs didn't have much strength.

  "…Ah! I get it now!" Alice suddenly exclaimed, making Marisa's heart nearly stop. She panicked.

  "W-What do you mean you get it?!"

  "You must've done some reckless magical experiment again, right? Blew yourself up, didn't you?"

  Alice gave her a "Why am I not surprised?" look.

  Marisa let out a sigh of relief and nodded frantically.

  "Y-Yeah! That's totally it! Experiment kind of backfired! Nothing serious though, hahaha!"

  Alice sighed, shaking her head. "Seriously… You never learn, do you? You've worked yourself into a state where you can't even fly. Fine. I'll bring back some tea and sweets for you later."

  She turned to leave, muttering to herself, "If only someone could keep you in check… then maybe you wouldn't be so reckless all the time…"

  Watching her leave, Marisa stood in the doorway, her face still slightly flushed. She muttered under her breath:

  "If you knew the real reason… you'd probably lecture me for hours…"

  She chuckled softly to herself, a shy but undeniably happy smile creeping onto her face.

  In the distance, hidden behind a bush…

  The Three Fairies of Light—Sunny, Luna, and Star—peeked out from the shrubs, watching Alice walk away and then looking at Marisa, still smiling bashfully at her door.

  Sunny's face was red as she whispered, "So… it wasn't a magical experiment after all…"

  Luna nodded knowingly. "Told you—it was that 'reproduction ritual,' right?"

  Star, wide-eyed, added, "Look at her… she can't even ride her broom anymore. That ritual must be… terrifying…"

  The three fairies chirped and whispered excitedly among themselves as they fluttered away, carefully passing on this scandalous revelation through their tiny fairy gossip network—each one more flustered and intrigued than the last.

  The Next Night – Hakugyokurou

  Under the shroud of night, Hakugyokurou stood solemn beneath the moonlight. The silver-white tiles of its rooftops reflected the full moon above, casting a serene and ethereal glow across the courtyard.

  At the center of the courtyard, paper lanterns swayed gently.

  Kengo and Youmu stood facing each other on the training grounds, both gripping wooden practice swords. A heavy air hung between them, the wind whispering between their sleeves, rustling with a quiet tension.

  Youmu's eyes were sharp, her stance a textbook example of traditional swordsmanship.

  Her left hand held a wooden replica of the Hakurouken, while her right simulated the grip of the Roukanken. Her presence was solid, grounded, her spirit focused like a mountain.

  Kengo stood firm as a boulder, calm and collected. Though his posture appeared relaxed, he had already entered a state of total readiness.

  His eyes were sharp, tracing Youmu's every slight movement with precision.

  "Haaah!"

  Youmu moved first, her figure slicing through the moonlight like a blade. Her strikes came in rapid succession—precise, fierce, and unrelenting like a storm.

  Each cut was executed without hesitation, proof of her role as both guardian and gardener of Hakugyokurou.

  Kengo didn't retreat—he advanced. His steps were like rooted stone, his grip steady as he parried each blow.

  Though he clearly wasn't using full strength, every movement was deliberate and precise.

  He met each strike with effortless fluidity, redirecting her momentum like water, and even subtly forced her to step back at times.

  The longer the bout lasted, the more agitated Youmu grew. Frustration and doubt flashed across her face until she abruptly leapt back, breaking the exchange. Her voice carried a suppressed fire:

  "...Are you holding back on me?"

  Kengo blinked, lowering his sword slightly. His gaze remained gentle, but his tone turned serious, unwavering:

  "Youmu, I've never once looked down on you—and I never will."

  Youmu frowned, her eyes filled with frustration and disappointment.

  "Then why... your strikes—while precise—lack power. You could go harder, but you're holding back. Is it because I'm a girl?"

  That sentence struck Kengo like a blade.

  He set down the wooden sword and met her gaze directly, his voice calm but resolute:

  "No. It's not that. From the first time we crossed swords, I knew—you are a true warrior. One who holds her blade, her beliefs, and her pride deep in her heart."

  "I respect your sword. And I admire your spirit. To guard Hakugyokurou, to stand firm against any foe without flinching—that kind of resolve has nothing to do with gender. The reason I held back... is because we're here—at Hakugyokurou."

  He turned his gaze to the surrounding walkways and lanterns:

  "This is your home. The place you share with Yuyuko. If I got even slightly serious, the pressure alone might shatter this entire courtyard. I restrained myself not out of fear for you—but out of care for your sanctuary."

  Youmu was taken aback. The anger faded from her face, replaced by surprise and a quiet, aching recognition. She knew his words were true—this man stood far beyond her in raw strength.

  But his tone held no pity. No condescension. Only sincerity and respect.

  Kengo added softly, with unwavering conviction:

  "But when it comes to technique and spirit, I've never once taken you lightly. You're one of the few swordswomen I truly believe is worth crossing blades with."

  In that moment, Youmu felt something strike deep within her chest. She lowered her head, gripping the wooden sword tighter, her voice softer than the night breeze:

  "I… understand. I'm sorry. I misunderstood you."

  Kengo offered a gentle smile, slinging the wooden sword across his back, and let his tone relax:

  "No worries. I understand and respect your pride and your blade. But—"

  He tapped his hip with a grin:

  "If you're still not satisfied, we can go to the uninhabited valleys of Youkai Mountain someday. I'll go all out. You can strike me as many times as you want."

  Youmu lifted her head, a rare smile gracing her lips—gentle, unguarded. She turned and whispered:

  "It's a promise, Kengo."

  What she didn't realize was that, beneath the falling petals and moonlit sky, her softly curving smile and graceful silhouette had already etched themselves into Kengo's memory.

  The deep night at Hakugyokurou was tranquil and still. The wind brushed through the bamboo in the courtyard, whispering in the quiet like a lullaby.

  After the sparring match, Youmu stored away the wooden swords and guided Kengo through the corridor to her room.

  Though it wasn't spacious or extravagant, the room was clean and orderly—just like Youmu herself, exuding a distinct aura of a disciplined warrior.

  Her room was minimalistic yet elegant. Along the wall stood a rack for storing her blades, and on the table sat a teapot still gently steaming, alongside two teacups. Beyond the paper sliding doors lay the calm moonlit night, the rustle of wind through branches barely audible.

  Youmu quietly picked up the teapot and poured Kengo a cup. Though her movements were steady, the tips of her ears flushed faintly red—she was clearly still embarrassed about the misunderstanding earlier.

  Kengo took the tea with a nod of thanks, then pulled out a whetstone and began carefully sharpening the blades of the Hakurouken and Roukanken.

  With a practiced hand, he checked the blade edges. The Hakurouken was in good condition, but when he turned to the Roukanken, his finger brushed across a nearly invisible hairline crack.

  "Youmu… your Roukanken seems to have a small fracture. Right here…"

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  He set down the whetstone and gently pointed out the spot with his fingertip. Youmu stiffened slightly, her gaze darkening with a trace of memory. She nodded quietly.

  "Yes… that happened during the last incident, when Orochi descended upon Gensokyo. I blocked one of its full-powered attacks—and the Roukanken shattered. I later had it reforged by a local craftsman, but… a nearly invisible crack remained."

  Her gaze carried a hint of regret and frustration. Her voice was calm, yet laced with a subtle thread of remorse she couldn't fully conceal.

  Kengo didn't say much in response. His expression simply grew more serious as he gently ran his fingers over the barely visible crack in the Roukanken.

  Deep in thought, he made a quiet decision—but he didn't voice it. Instead, he carefully set the sword aside and resumed sharpening in silence.

  Once the sharpening was done, Youmu took a sip of her tea. She seemed to be gathering courage.

  The moonlight shimmered upon her white hair, gliding like liquid silver. Finally, she bit her lip slightly, eyes filled with tension and resolve.

  "Kengo, I... want to ask you something. About what happened last time..."

  As she brought it up, a flush quickly colored her ears. She forced herself to meet his gaze, as if afraid that hesitation would silence her completely.

  "I know that... that time, because of the aphrodisiac, I... Sakuya, Komachi, Marisa, and Suika... we all did those things with you... I—I won't deny that I was in a terrible state then. But what I want to make clear is that I'm not... that kind of careless or indecent woman."

  Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped the teacup, but her voice remained sincere and unwavering.

  "The reason I did those things wasn't just because of the drug. It's because I've realized that I've truly... fallen in love with you. Not just admiration, not just liking—but as Youmu Konpaku, as a woman, I've come to see you as the person I want to devote everything to protecting."

  Kengo's expression shifted from mild surprise to gentle warmth. He didn't interrupt her—he could feel how seriously she was taking this, and he wanted to honor that with silence and attentiveness.

  Youmu drew in a deep breath. Her eyes flicked toward the Roukanken beside her, as if it gave her strength.

  "Recently... when I was at the Night Sparrow Restaurant, I overheard that Sakuya, Komachi, Marisa... they've all expressed their feelings to you again. They've offered their hearts—and their bodies. I... I know I've fallen behind them. And I know you're not the type to judge based on that. But I still want you to know—my feelings for you are no less than theirs."

  Her face flushed bright red, but her stance remained firm, like a warrior refusing to back down. Her eyes gleamed like blades, yet softened with vulnerability and longing.

  "I'm not asking you to give me an answer right away. But I want you to know—if you'd have me, I, Konpaku Youmu, would stand beside you always. Whether it's in battle or in everyday life... I want to be there, with you."

  Faced with such heartfelt honesty, Kengo felt something warm and full swell in his chest. He gently set down his teacup and reached across the table to take her trembling hand in his. His voice was as soft as the night breeze:

  "Youmu, you're one of the sword-wielders I admire most... and someone I truly wish to protect. I've always seen your strength, your persistence, and your honest heart."

  He offered a small smile, meeting her nervous gaze.

  "I would never change how I see you, no matter when or how you choose to express yourself. Your feelings—I accept them, and I treasure them. But I don't want to give you a rushed or half-hearted answer. Let time prove the strength of our bond. And please believe me... my regard for you is no less than what I feel for Marisa, Sakuya, Komachi, or Suika."

  Youmu let out a small breath of relief, her eyes softening into a gentle smile. She didn't say anything more, but nodded slowly. Between them, the air warmed—filled with the quiet glow of sincerity and connection.

  When the awkward tension had finally faded, Kengo once again picked up the Roukanken, brushing his fingers over the faint crack with a thoughtful look in his eyes.

  Kengo (inner monologue):

  "This blade means the world to her. Even if she says it's fine—even if she's grown used to the repaired scar—I know what a flawless blade means to a swordswoman..."

  He said nothing aloud. With a calm motion, he turned away for a moment. When he looked back at Youmu, his voice was gentle but firm:

  "Youmu, it's getting late. You should get some rest. Next time we train... let's go somewhere we can truly fight. I want to see your sword at full strength."

  Youmu sensed the trust and acknowledgment in his words. She smiled, a mix of warmth and quiet happiness on her face.

  "Okay… I'll be waiting. Don't disappoint me, Kengo."

  Her eyes sparkled with determination, tinged with a trace of a girl's quiet anticipation.

  Kengo rose, gathered the tea set and whetstone, and spoke softly:

  "I'll take my leave for now. Get some rest. As for the Roukanken... I'll figure something out another day."

  As he stepped toward the door, just as he was about to cross the threshold, a sudden warmth clung to his back.

  "…?!"

  Kengo's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't panic. He stood still as he felt Youmu's presence press against him from behind.

  She buried her face between his shoulder blades, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Her face burned crimson, flushed with both embarrassment and comfort. She didn't speak immediately, as if struggling to find the right words.

  Kengo inhaled gently, about to turn his head toward her, but hesitated—afraid to break the delicate silence.

  Finally, he asked quietly:"Youmu… what is it?"

  She didn't answer right away. Instead, she let go with one hand and slowly untied the black ribbon that had always bound her long white hair. Her hair fell freely, a rare sight. For her, this simple act meant letting go of her rigid formality—facing him not as a warrior, but as herself.

  She took a deep breath. Her voice trembled slightly, but it was clear in the night:

  "Kengo… I've already told you I didn't want any misunderstandings. And I don't want regrets. That time… I was affected by the aphrodisiac. I lost my mind—but I don't regret becoming close with you. I just don't want it to be something that happened only because of that."

  She pressed her forehead against his back, her heart pounding so loudly she could hear it.

  "This time… I want to give myself to you fully—clear-headed, and by choice. Because… because I've truly fallen in love with you."

  "Youmu...!"

  Kengo's heart surged. Though he was usually calm and grounded, this warmth in his chest shook him to his core. His blood quickened. He slowly turned around, looking down into her face.

  Youmu raised her head at the same time, and their eyes met—each filled with uncertainty, with heat, with undeniable truth.

  "You..."

  He wanted to speak, but words felt useless. The emotion in his gaze—his tenderness, respect, and overwhelming affection—was more powerful than any sentence.

  Youmu no longer avoided his gaze. She gently released the black ribbon that always tied her hair, placing it neatly on the table beside them. Then she lifted her head to look at Kengo, her face bathed in moonlight and tinged with a soft blush.

  She knew that this—right now—had nothing to do with aphrodisiacs or external influences. This was a choice born purely from her heart.

  "Kengo…"

  She spoke again, her voice trembling from nervousness but carrying an unmistakable, unwavering resolve.

  "If you're willing… then tonight, let us truly face each other—with nothing hidden. I want to take a step forward as me, not under the influence of anything else."

  Faced with such a heartfelt confession, Kengo did not retreat. He reached out and gently held her cool fingers, pressing her palm to his chest so she could feel his strong, steady heartbeat. His voice was soft, but overflowing with depth.

  "I never wanted anything between us to be the result of drugs or misunderstandings. Since you've said this, I want you to understand—I treasure you. Not because of a drug, not because of circumstances—day or night, I treasure the real Youmu."

  "Youmu… thank you. For your trust. And your love."

  At that moment, it was as though even the moonlight had stopped to bless their silence. No more words were needed—only the deep exchange of their gazes.

  Youmu tiptoed closer and leaned against his chest, their breathing now shallow and filled with anticipation.

  She looked up at him from his embrace, and kissed him deeply.

  Her face was flushed to the ears, her usual calm utterly undone, yet in her gaze there was no fear—only determination. Her usual steady breathing now carried a hint of nervous trembling, but her eyes said everything: "This is my decision. I will not regret it."

  She slowly undid the sash of her clothing, letting it slide down her shoulders. Beneath the moonlight, her figure appeared soft and luminous. Her arms—so often used to wield blades—trembled slightly with unfamiliar shyness.

  "Kengo…"

  He whispered her name as he reached out to shield her from the cool night air. But Youmu gently pushed his hand away, giving him a bashful glare.

  "D-Don't move…" she murmured, swallowing nervously as her fingers reached up to untie his robes.

  Soon, Kengo's upper body was bare as well. In the stillness of Hakugyokurou's night, the heat between them only grew stronger.

  Her hand tentatively traced the contours of his chest, her fingers brushing against the defined muscles that rose and fell with his breath. She trembled, but didn't draw back.

  It was then that Youmu noticed a very obvious "change" below his waist. She bit her lip, her cheeks ablaze, and shyly reached to undo his waistband. When the imposing "Kusanagi Sword" was revealed, she gasped.

  "Th-that's… way too big…"

  Her voice, caught between shock and embarrassment, made her face glow even redder.

  This was her first time, fully conscious and clear-headed, facing him in this way. Even as a disciplined warrior used to swords and battles, she could not still her thundering heart.

  Kengo, seeing her mixture of awe and anxiety, felt a rush of warmth. He reached out to caress her cheek, his tone gentle and reassuring:

  "Youmu, there's no need to push yourself. If anything feels wrong, just say the word, and I'll stop."

  Her heart trembled. She bit her lip but forced a reassuring look into her eyes. Despite her nerves, what shone through was something deeper—trust. Trust in the man before her, and a desire to draw closer still.

  "I-I'm fine… I just don't want to miss this chance again…"

  Her voice trembled as she spoke, but her hand—accustomed to blades—now carefully touched a very different kind of "weapon." She reminded herself this wasn't an impulse born of drugs. This was a natural extension of her love, fully awake, fully willing.

  Kengo saw her hesitation, and without pressure, simply drew her close. "I understand," he whispered. "Let's take it slow. You don't have to worry about anything."

  In the moonlit room, their shadows melded into one. Youmu, her face flushed and buried against his chest, felt the beat of his heart—strong and steady.

  For the first time, she allowed herself to be soft. Not the warrior or the guardian, but simply a girl who had found someone she could be vulnerable with.

  Kengo first kissed her forehead, grounding her with his presence. Then, slowly and with reverence, his lips traced her brow, her lips, her collarbone—finally settling between her thighs, upon the petals of her most private place.

  Youmu gasped softly at the sudden pleasure. Her usually composed demeanor faltered completely, breath coming in shallow waves. She raised her head, trying to catch Kengo's eyes—searching for reassurance, love, and promise.

  Kengo paused, his tone serious but tender:

  "If this feels too fast, or if anything feels wrong, I'll stop right now. Are you… truly okay with this?"

  It was both a last exit, and an affirmation of the bond they shared.

  Hearing those words, Youmu felt her heart melt. She nodded, trembling slightly but filled with resolve. Her actions spoke louder than words.

  In her silent permission, Kengo once more embraced her. This time, nothing stood between them—no confusion, no chemicals, only truth.

  She clung to his shoulders, her voice nearly inaudible, her body trembling:

  "…I won't regret this."

  Kengo replied with a deep, loving kiss. And under her shy, trust-filled gaze, the two of them finally became one.

  Meanwhile, elsewhere in Hakugyokurou...

  The mansion lay still and silent in the depth of night.

  Yuyuko, however, stirred from sleep, her stomach softly growling. Rubbing her eyes and wrapped in a flowing pink-purple nightgown, she padded down the corridor in search of some leftover sweets—preferably ones made earlier by Tamami.

  Still drowsy and yawning, she paused as she passed by Youmu's room—her ears catching something... odd.

  "Slap… slap… slap…"

  A faint, rhythmic sound carried through the walls, punctuated by muffled gasps and breathing.

  "Ken… Kengo… ah… it's t-too big…"

  That voice—Yuyuko knew it instantly. Her beloved gardener and swordswoman—Youmu.

  "Ara ara…"

  Yuyuko's sleepy eyes narrowed into sly amusement, a mischievous glint flickering in her gaze.

  She crept quietly toward the door, and as expected, the paper screen was tightly shut. From within, faint rhythmic slap slap sounds and soft, breathy moans could be heard.

  Leaning in with a practiced stillness, Yuyuko caught traces of hushed, embarrassed murmurs—Youmu's voice unmistakably laced with tension and shyness. A low, masculine voice responded warmly; it didn't take a genius to recognize Kengo.

  Originally groggy and half-asleep, Yuyuko immediately woke up upon hearing those sounds. A mischievous, slightly flustered smile curled at her lips.

  She pressed closer to the door, feeling the heat and tension radiating from within, letting out an amused little "Ohoho~" under her breath.

  "My, my… Youmu's really reached that age, hasn't she...?"

  Covering her mouth as she giggled softly, Yuyuko's expression was one of indulgent delight. She had no intention of spying or interrupting—only watching over them with a hint of affection and a touch of mischief. Taking a step back so as not to alert those inside, she let out a quiet breath.

  She recalled how, not long ago, Youmu blushed furiously and denied any "strange relationship" with Kengo—such a stubborn and awkward child. And now, hearing this? Adorable.

  "Still… they're awfully energetic, aren't they? Do they even realize what time it is…?"

  She muttered to herself with a smirk, her voice laced with amusement. Stealing one last glance at the door, she turned and continued her way to the kitchen, walking with the contented air of a mother watching her daughter finally grow up.

  "Dessert still needs eating, after all. I'll let them enjoy their little moment… Ufufu~"

  Tilting her head slightly, she was already thinking about how she might tease Youmu tomorrow morning—or perhaps offer Kengo a "congratulatory remark."

  After all, Youmu had worked so hard to act serious and composed in front of her. And now that her beloved gardener had found happiness in love, Yuyuko—who had always played the role of something like a "cheerful elder"—felt sincerely happy for her.

  "Youmu really has grown up…"

  She murmured this softly, her voice warm and proud. There wasn't a trace of surprise in her tone—just gentle acceptance. She patted the wall next to the door, almost like giving a silent blessing, then turned to leave.

  But just before she rounded the corner, she mused aloud, as if the idea had just struck her:

  "Now that Youmu and Kengo are getting that close… I suppose I can't fall too far behind."

  A sly grin tugged at her lips as she pictured the desserts waiting in the kitchen… and something else.

  "Tomorrow, it'll be my turn to invite Tamami for a little 'midnight chat.' Ufufufu~ "

  Her chuckle, rich with playful implication, echoed down the hallway alongside her retreating footsteps. Behind her, the soft sounds from Youmu's room continued:

  "Youmu… a little gentler…"

  "You dummy, Kengo—I'm not that fragile… mm…"

  Moonlight streamed through the latticed windows, pooling at the door's threshold.

  Within the room, passion and tenderness intertwined, echoing faintly in the stillness of the night.

  The corridor once again fell silent—except for the soft humming of Yuyuko, now humming a cheerful tune as she made her way toward her midnight snack, already scheming how best to "entertain" Tamami tomorrow.

  In this land where humans and youkai coexist, the nights always seem to hold a little more magic—and a whole lot of mischief. Just like the spark of anticipation twinkling in Yuyuko's eyes.

  Late night on Youkai Mountain, the breeze rustled gently through the leaves, and moonlight poured softly over a small wooden cabin nestled halfway up the slope. This was the home of Suika Ibuki.

  Contrary to what one might expect of a "home of an oni," the cabin was cozy and inviting. Wind chimes and paper lanterns hung by the porch, and the garden was filled with fruits and herbs used for brewing sake, exuding a faint, intoxicating fragrance.

  Tonight, as promised, Kengo had arrived.

  He didn't come empty-handed. Balanced on his right shoulder was a wooden sake jug—filled with a divine brew crafted using techniques from Takamagahara, smooth and mellow, known to enhance the flow of spiritual energy upon consumption.

  In Takamagahara, such sake would be reserved for grand festivals. In Gensokyo, it was the kind of drink that would awe even the tengu and dragon gods.

  In his left hand, he carried a woven basket filled with carefully prepared dishes: roasted yam marinated in miso, seared eel with yuzu sauce, smoked shiitake mushrooms, and thin slices of duck confit. All of them were perfect companions for fine sake.

  Climbing the wooden steps, he knocked gently. "Suika, I'm here."

  The door slid open, casting a warm glow outward. There stood Suika in a loose cotton yukata, her iconic twin horns adorned with familiar hair ties. Her bangs were a bit messy, as if she'd just gotten up from a nap. Barefoot, arms folded, she leaned against the doorframe and smirked.

  "Hmph~ Thought you were gonna be late."

  She tried to sound casual, but her eyes lit up slightly upon seeing the divine sake and the food. "Oho... bringing stuff this fancy—trying to get me drunk, are ya?"

  Kengo chuckled softly, voice calm. "This is for you. Weren't you the one who invited me for a drink tonight?"

  "Mmm~ that's true. But you better be ready—I'm in an extra good mood tonight"

  Grinning wide, she waved him inside.

  The lighting inside the cabin was warm and dim. A familiar sake-scented incense burned in a corner, laced with licorice and plum blossom. The air itself felt gently intoxicating.

  On the table were two sake cups and an empty cloth mat—clearly prepared in advance for their evening together.

  Suika plopped herself down and slapped her signature gourd onto the table. "Come on, sit here~ Tonight, I'm gettin' you wasted. That's the oni's official drinking challenge!"

  Kengo simply nodded and smiled, gracefully pouring the divine sake into their cups. The liquor shimmered like silver in the candlelight, its aroma rich but not overpowering, drifting softly like morning mist.

  They raised their cups. Suika squinted playfully at him. "Hey, Kengo—lemme ask ya. Did you come here just because I invited you? Or... was it 'cause you actually wanted to drink with me?"

  Kengo looked into her eyes, holding his cup steady. His voice was low, firm:

  "I came because you invited me. But if it weren't you, I wouldn't have brought this kind of sake. I only ever brewed this once—and it's only ever been meant for you."

  Suika froze momentarily, her fingers tightening slightly on the cup. Her usual grin flickered, but within a second she masked it with her signature hearty laugh.

  "Hmph~ You smooth-talking bastard…"

  But when she lowered her head to drink, the tips of her ears had turned noticeably pink.

  As the night wore on and the sake flowed, the jug of divine brew was nearly emptied, and the special dishes almost entirely devoured.

  Kengo remained composed and clear-headed, as if the alcohol had no effect on him at all. Suika, though still smiling and cheerful, now had a different gleam in her eye—a blend of curiosity and something softer that she tried not to let show.

  She swirled her gourd and suddenly turned toward him with a smirk. "Hey, Kengo~ You've been pretty popular lately, huh?"

  Kengo blinked, but replied with a faint smile. "Why do you ask?"

  Suika narrowed her eyes slightly, pretending to be tipsy as she poured more sake and said with casual cheer:

  "Well, I was out drinkin' at the Night Sparrow Restaurant the other day—heard some juicy gossip~ Mmm, Sakuya, Komachi, Marisa, Youmu... sounds like they've all, y'know, shown you their feelings again lately, right?"

  Her tone was still playful, but her hand froze in mid-pour, and she glanced sideways at him—there was something deeper beneath the teasing.

  Kengo was silent for a few seconds. Calmly, he set down his cup and replied evenly:"...Yes."

  No evasion, no embellishment. No flustered denial. Just calm truth.

  That honesty caught Suika off guard. She blinked, then let out a laugh that seemed a little more strained. She downed her drink in one swift motion—but this time, the sake burned a little going down.

  She set the cup aside and slowly lay down on the floor mat, propping her head up with one hand and gazing at the ceiling.

  Her voice was lazy, tipsy, but just a touch too quiet:

  "Don't forget… I, Suika Ibuki , was the first one to push you down. And that was pure instinct, thanks to that aphrodisiac. No pretense, no filter."

  "And yet, looking at it now… feels like I'm the one who fell behind, huh?"

  There was no accusation in her tone. But there was a hint of loneliness—one she herself might not have realized was there.

  Kengo didn't answer right away. He stood, picked up the jug, and refilled her cup. Then he sat down beside her and spoke gently:

  "Suika, I've never seen you as 'last' in anything."

  Suika froze. She hadn't expected that answer. Her crimson eyes—already tinted pink from the alcohol—widened slightly with disbelief as she turned to look at him.

  Kengo looked at her, his tone both sincere and resolute.

  "For me, you—and Sakuya, Komachi, Marisa, Youmu… each and every one of you—is someone I would give my life to protect. You're more important than myself, than Gensokyo, or even this entire world."

  He paused, then added,

  "And you, Suika, were the first to offer both your feelings and yourself to me. I haven't forgotten that—not even once."

  Those words felt like a gentle light flowing from his heart into Suika's.

  She stared at him, stunned, then suddenly turned away with a forced casualness. "...You jerk. Saying that kind of stuff is totally cheating."

  Yet her voice quivered slightly, as if a strong defense had suddenly collapsed.

  She sat up abruptly, one hand on Kengo's shoulder as she leaned in close. Though she still wore a playful grin, her gaze was unusually direct and intense.

  "Then remember this—I'm not losing to anyone.

  I'm not trying to own you or keep others away. I just... want you to know that no matter what, I'm here. Always."

  Her voice no longer had that carefree oni ring to it; instead, it carried the earnestness of a long-hidden true self.

  Kengo didn't reply in words. He simply reached out and gently stroked her head, drawing her into his arms.

  "I know, Suika. Thank you..."

  She rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, murmuring softly, "So tonight, I'm gonna make sure you get so drunk… and this time, you're not getting away..."

  Kengo and Suika pressed close, their breaths tinged with both urgency and rising emotion. The jug of Takamagahara sake lay nearby, its remaining golden liquid shimmering in the low light.

  Setting her cup aside, Suika glanced at Kengo. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and her own desire, and though her trademark hearty smile remained, her eyes shone with a gentle warmth that ran much deeper.

  "You said... we're all important to you, didn't you?"

  Her tone carried a faint hint of defiance, coupled with feigned indifference. "Then prove it to me, Kengo—just how important am I?"

  Kengo was about to speak, but Suika suddenly moved. The abruptness of her "assault" left him momentarily speechless.

  In one swift motion, she stripped away the last of her own clothing, then reached for Kengo's hakama belt and yanked his pants down. The movement was lightning-quick; before he knew it, he'd been pushed back onto the tatami, half sitting, half sprawled.

  "S-Suika...?"

  He'd barely managed a startled look when she placed her foot on him—

  Her bare foot, small and shapely, yet carrying that distinctive oni strength. Right now, it was pressed lightly against his exposed lower body, where he was already hard as a "Kusanagi sword."

  Though Kengo had weathered countless battles, he never expected this move. His mind went blank for a second, and he sucked in a breath.

  "Suika!? Wait—"

  Kengo, usually so composed, couldn't hide a trace of panic this time.

  But Suika just let out a hearty laugh. Though her cheeks were as red as a ripe apple, her eyes gleamed with excitement.

  "That part of you doesn't look like it wants to 'wait' at all. It's practically raring to 'exterminate' me, huh?" She drew out the last words with mischievous intent.

  Before Kengo could respond, Suika bent down like a playful cat, her whole body leaning toward him. A sweet aroma of sake lingered around her lips as she scooped up the last dregs of wine from her cup. Then, without warning, she pressed her mouth to Kengo's—

  At that moment, Kengo felt a surge of warm, rich liquor pass from her mouth to his, tangling his senses and igniting a passionate heat from within. Their tongues entwined amid the flavor of sake, Suika taking the lead as she pushed the liquid into his mouth, leaving him unsure whether the sweetness came from the alcohol or the girl herself.

  When she finally pulled back, she laughed in a breathy tone, "I told you—I'm getting you drunk tonight. Looks like I won't have to wait long; you're already half gone, aren't you?"

  Kengo's heartbeat hammered under her relentless attack, and he found it impossible to resist.

  The Suika before him was the same rowdy companion he knew, yet now an elusive, seductive force.

  He reached out to support her waist so she wouldn't lose balance, his voice low and husky:

  "Suika, you're not holding back at all..."

  Suika smirked and slid her foot away from his "Kusanagi Sword," shrugging as though it were nothing.

  "Hmph, who told you to show up so late? I've been waiting 'til I was 'last,' so I've gotta make sure I stand out, right?"

  With that, she pressed herself even closer, claiming another deep, sake-laced kiss. The lamplight flickered, and the air filled with the overlapping scents of alcohol and desire, making each touch between them searing and intimate.

  Kengo finally realized that behind Suika's "boldness" was a faint trace of anxiety and the wish to be seen, to be valued.

  So, returning her kiss, he gently stroked her back, drawing her fully into his embrace. In a low murmur, he said:

  "Suika... I won't let you fall behind, and I won't let you feel unimportant. You are... irreplaceable to me."

  Hearing that, she—who had been on the verge of laughing it off—felt a jolt in her heart. She bit her lip and gave a small scoff. "Idiot, quit talking all sappy..." But her arms clung tightly around his shoulders, refusing to let him go.

  Suika's face glowed crimson as she nestled into Kengo's chest; the intimacy between them spoke louder than any words.

  When their deep kiss ended, Kengo drew back slightly, his gaze falling upon the horns atop Suika's head.

  Those horns were a symbol of oni power—and also one of her most sensitive, cherished parts.

  Suika noticed where he was looking, wanting to speak but failing to form the words. Her cheeks burned even hotter, mentally cursing herself for caring so much.

  She was about to decide whether to push him away when Kengo leaned in, pressing his lips gently to one of those pointed horns.

  "H-Hey... you jerk—"

  Shocked, she tried to push him away, but found her strength fleeting. The intense sensation of him so close to her "source of power" made her entire body tremble, like an electric current jolting straight through her nerves.

  Kengo moved carefully, tenderly kissing the horn's hard yet sensitive surface. His touch was light, but Suika's heart surged wildly. Meanwhile, his hand continued exploring, brushing over the firm yet supple swell of her chest and drifting downward toward her most sensitive spot.

  Feeling the surge of pleasure, Suika finally couldn't contain her ragged gasps. She tried to grit her teeth, but only succeeded in biting her own lip.

  "You... you're actually licking an oni's horn... do you... do you have a death wish...?"

  Her voice wavered, still brash yet tinged with a rare vulnerability.

  Kengo glanced up at her, eyes filled with both concern and sincerity.

  "Suika, being able to touch here means you trust me. If you feel even the slightest discomfort, I'll stop immediately—"

  Suika's face burned, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She did not retreat, but rather tightened her hold on his shoulder, speaking in a shaky, defiant whisper:

  "D-Don't give me that 'Mr. Polite' crap... just... don't you dare break my horn... mm..."

  She never finished. A moment later, she felt Kengo's kisses slide from her horn down past her collarbone, down to her chest, eventually closing over her breast and lower petals.

  Enveloped by the mingled scents of heady liquor and smoldering passion, Suika could no longer restrain the trembling cry in her throat.

  "Ah... y-you..."

  As an instinctive reaction, Suika clamped her legs together, but Kengo gently pulled her into his arms, leaving her no room to escape.

  That contradictory mix of flustered frustration and rising pleasure, mingled with the effects of alcohol, made her skin burn hot—her body nearly powerless.

  "Only you... are allowed to touch me... there..."

  Suika blurted out, face flushed bright red.

  For an oni, such words were a declaration of ultimate trust and emotional surrender.

  If anyone else had dared to lick her horn, it would have been a death sentence. But with Kengo—she couldn't resist, couldn't get angry. All she could do was melt under the intoxicating, tingling touch.

  Kengo paused for a moment, caressing her back as he whispered,

  "You don't have to act strong anymore, or worry about being 'behind' anyone. You're Suika—my one and only, and an irreplaceable bond to me."

  That single sentence melted the frustration in her chest into a flood of warmth.

  Her eyes glimmered with a rush of emotion—relief, happiness, and the proud satisfaction of being seen and cherished. She hooked her arms around his neck and kissed him again, pouring everything unspoken into their lips.

  The flickering light, the rustling bamboo outside, the warmth between them... only the scent of sake, the thump of hearts, and their inescapable passion remained.

  At sunset on Youkai Mountain, the sky was stained a vivid crimson. The breeze blew softly past the little wooden house nestled on the slope.

  Suika slowly opened her eyes, still hazy, as if her soul hadn't quite returned to her body.

  "Ugh... hngh... What time is it...?"

  She rubbed her still-sleepy eyes—then realized her entire body ached, especially around her waist, as though it had been hammered.

  The memories flooded back all at once:

  She and Kengo had tangled with each other until dawn—a full twelve hours of intense, messy passion…

  The sound of their bodies colliding, her own unrestrained moans and laughter—all still echoed vividly in her mind.

  "Damn it..."

  She muttered to herself, face torn between a smug grin and a hint of embarrassed blush. She slapped her cheeks a few times, trying to clear her head.

  Only then did she notice the soft, clean blanket covering her body. Her clothes were completely gone, but her skin was spotless, clearly wiped down with great care.

  "That guy…"

  She bit her lip. It was then she noticed her neatly folded clothes stacked on the bedside table. Hesitating for a moment, she reached for her freshly laundered yukata, and a wave of warmth spread through her chest, flushing her cheeks anew.

  Then her eyes caught a piece of paper tucked beside it—Kengo's familiar handwriting:

  "Suika: Last night, you really gave it your all. You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you. I prepared a sake-themed traditional meal—make sure you eat properly when you get up, don't go hungry again. If you're still sore, rest up. No need to rush around. I'll come check on you again. —Kengo"

  She read it in one breath, crumpled the note, then hesitated—and carefully smoothed it back out, as if wanting to read it again.

  That was when the delicious aroma hit her nose.

  On the small table beside her was a full traditional meal, already plated:

  Sake-steamed clams, drunken chicken rolls, sweet simmered squid, miso-grilled saury—each dish infused with a different kind of sake, bursting with warm, fragrant flavor.

  Suika swallowed hard. She cursed herself for being so worn out from last night's "battle," because now she was absolutely starving.

  She snatched up a pair of chopsticks and took a bite of the grilled fish—and was immediately overwhelmed by the explosion of umami.

  "Ugh... it's criminal how good this is..."

  She chewed while muttering curses under her breath.

  "That guy's cooking skills are way too damn good…"

  But despite her complaints, she couldn't hide her growing smile.

  This was her territory, and yet… it felt like she was being looked after like a girl in his home.

  "Damn him... he's way too thoughtful…"

  She mumbled, head lowered—but her face was clearly flustered, smiling shyly despite herself.

  She remembered the wild joy of last night, and how she had allowed herself to completely drop the oni's pride in his arms.

  Her heartbeat quickened at the thought.

  "But next time... I won't let you pin me down for that long again. Hmph!"

  She said this as she shoved another bite of fish into her mouth, her actions as bold as ever, but her eyes and smile overflowing with sweetness and contentment.

  That long-forgotten sense of safety and being cherished had returned again—wrapped in the fragrance of food and affection.

  Before she knew it, half the meal was gone. She rinsed her mouth and then gulped down a bowl of the clear sake Kengo had left for her. "Whew…" The sake warmed her stomach and eased her fatigue. Suika rolled her shoulders, already feeling her strength return.

  She recalled the final words on his note:"I'll come check on you again."

  "Hah… That bastard just up and left again.

  Next time he shows up, I'll make sure he gets to taste my oni-strength liquor...!"

  She said it with a mock-scolding tone, but now her voice no longer held last night's bitter frustration. Instead, it brimmed with playful joy and a sense of eager anticipation.

  She knew he would return.

  And that what they shared wasn't over—it was just beginning.

  Even the proud oni princess had a tender side.

  Last night, she had entrusted it completely to Kengo.

  And today, she could finally face their relationship with clarity and openness.

  "Haaah..."

  Stretching lazily, she slipped back under the blanket and set the empty dishes aside, planning to take another nap. Just before dozing off again, her eyes drifted back to the note. She murmured softly:

  "You better remember this—

  Next time you come here, I'll be the one pinning you down... idiot..."

  But her crimson eyes sparkled with unmistakable joy.

  With thoughts of their next meeting dancing in her mind, Suika slipped back into a peaceful sleep—

  this time feeling warm, secure, and wholly cared for, like a girl who'd been cherished to her very core.