Today, Kirisu Mafuyu was home.
She wasn't wearing her usual work attire.
Instead, she'd thrown on a soft white sweater that skimmed the curve of her chest and cinched at her waist, giving her a gentler silhouette than the sharp-tongued teacher her students knew. Fuzzy slippers swallowed her feet. A pleated skirt fell just above her knees, leaving a long stretch of pale, slender leg exposed to the afternoon light — the kind of youthful charm she rarely allowed anyone at Soubu to see.
"What are you staring at? Get moving and clean, already."
"This is your punishment for what you pulled."
"Yes, Mafuyu-sama. Right away."
Hozuki Nozomi only smiled, saying nothing more.
He set to work with quick, practiced efficiency, gathering the takeout boxes, crumpled tissues, and other debris that had piled up during her days shut in.
Kirisu Mafuyu's face grew warm. She coughed twice into her fist, then padded back toward her bedroom on unsteady feet.
"I'm going to lie down for a bit. Let yourself out when you're finished."
...
It took him only a few minutes.
He pushed open the door to her room.
Kirisu Mafuyu was already curled on the bed, breathing shallow, asleep.
He stepped closer and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead — burning. Feverish. She was sick, and he knew exactly whose fault that was.
The guilt sank deeper.
So he didn't leave. He sat at the edge of the mattress and took her small, hot hand in his, threading his fingers through hers, and let his magic flow into her — a slow, steady current meant to ease the ache in her body.
Without meaning to, he stayed.
By afternoon, Kirisu Mafuyu blinked her way back to consciousness.
"Ah — !"
She realized she was tucked against someone's chest, a warm arm draped over her waist, and shoved him hard.
"Ouch — "
Hozuki Nozomi tumbled off the bed and landed on the floor with a graceless thud.
"You scoundrel — why are you in my bed? Why are you — hugging me?"
He rubbed his lower back and answered her with unbothered calm.
"Because you're sick. And I felt guilty about that, so I thought I'd stay until your fever broke."
"Hmph. I didn't ask you to stay. Who told you to hold me?"
Her expression was sharp enough to cut glass. Nozomi dropped his gaze in defeat.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't think apologizing fixes it. Hozuki Nozomi, you've gone too far this time."
He exhaled, long and slow.
"It's my fault."
That easy admission caught her off guard. Kirisu Mafuyu's stern mask cracked at the corners — she stole a glance at him, and her voice softened without her permission.
"Don't ever pull something like that again. Sensei understands that boys your age get… ideas about pretty women. But you have a girlfriend. Do you understand what that means?"
"Please just forget about that day. I've almost forgotten it myself."
She'd decided. A normal teacher-student relationship. Nothing more. She'd bury the rest and pretend it never breathed.
Otherwise, she'd never be able to look at him again.
Hozuki Nozomi smiled and gave her a simple answer.
"Alright."
Then — silence.
The air thickened. Neither of them knew what to do with it.
Kirisu Mafuyu's cheeks flushed against her will. "Um. You should be heading back now, shouldn't you?"
Hozuki Nozomi nodded.
"It's about time. But — let me cook something before I go. Mafuyu-Sensei got sick because of me. Honestly, I feel awful about it. Let me at least try to make up for it."
She opened her mouth to refuse. Then she remembered his cooking, and the refusal died in her throat.
She wanted to eat what he made.
Before long, the food was plated and the kitchen was spotless. He untied the apron from his waist and folded it over the back of a chair.
"I'll head out now. Mafuyu-Sensei, please eat properly. I hope to see you back at school tomorrow, looking like yourself again."
"You're insufferable. Just go already."
She pouted and turned her face pointedly away from him.
But her pulse quickened in spite of herself.
At that moment — footsteps behind her.
"Ah — !"
A sudden wash of warmth. A pair of arms slid around her from behind, gathering her against a firm chest, and her breath hitched somewhere between her ribs.
"You — you're back again?"
Hozuki Nozomi bent close and pressed a slow kiss to the shell of her ear. His breath fanned hot against her throat, and his voice dropped low, earnest.
"The fact is, I like Mafuyu-Sensei. I won't forget what happened that day. If you want to keep your distance, then keep it. I'll still like you all the same."
Then he let her go, turned, and walked out.
Kirisu Mafuyu's knees gave. She sank into the nearest chair, one hand pressed flat to her still-tingling ear.
"You awful, awful boy — how did I end up with a student like you?"
He had no intention of giving up. That much was clear.
And yet — why…
Why was she a little pleased?
Could it be that she felt something for him too —
Bah. Bah!
Impossible!
She, Kirisu Mafuyu, would never take a man who juggled women as her partner. Never.
The reminder of his string of relationships steadied her. Her resolve settled back into place, brittle but intact.
Hozuki Nozomi, meanwhile, walked back to Sakurasou with a spring in his step.
His behavior had been excessive, sure.
But she'd let him inside. She'd let him clean. She'd let him cook. That meant she hadn't rejected him — not truly. And he was the first boy she'd ever let touch her like that.
The one nearest the water sees the moon first.
Once a man and a woman had crossed that line, there was rarely just the one crossing. Where there was one, there would be a second.
Hozuki Nozomi couldn't help but look forward to seeing her tomorrow.
Kirisu Mafuyu, on the other hand, finished the meal he'd left her, then couldn't sleep for anything.
She'd steeled herself against his pursuit — she was certain of that — but she still had no idea how to actually deal with him from here.
Ignoring him would have been simple. She'd done it for weeks.
But she'd been the one to break first. She'd been the one who spoke to him.
And then… that had happened.
"Aaaah — annoying, this stinking brat, why does his stupid smirking face keep showing up in my head — "
"What's so great about him anyway? A little handsome. A little bad-mannered. That's it."
"Why do Yukinoshita and Shiina put up with him at all — "
Could Hozuki Nozomi actually be some sort of succubus in human skin?
Her thoughts scattered in every direction.
….
The next morning, Kirisu Mafuyu passed through the school gate and ran headlong into him.
Hozuki Nozomi flashed her a brilliant, unguarded smile.
"Good morning, Mafuyu-Sensei."
"Morning." She managed the word with forced composure, then turned her head, quickened her stride, and vanished from his sight as fast as her heels would carry her.
Back in the faculty office, she sat down and immediately regretted it.
Why had she run?
He was the one who should feel guilty. Not her.
She stewed for a while, then dug out her phone and thumbed out a message at 5:20 that afternoon.
Kirisu Mafuyu: Stinking brat. Don't you dare think about your Sensei again — or I'll tell Yukinoshita and Shiina.
Hozuki Nozomi's expression, when he read it, went a little sideways.
Hozuki Nozomi: Mafuyu-Sensei, how do I put this… they already know.
Kirisu Mafuyu: Huh? Are you joking? They know and they don't mind?
Hozuki Nozomi: Why don't you ask them yourself?
Kirisu Mafuyu: Absolutely not! Remember — I'm your teacher. You will show me respect. Otherwise I'll stop speaking to you altogether.
Hozuki Nozomi: If I show respect, may I hug you?
Her face burned crimson.
Kirisu Mafuyu: NO! You disgusting boy, what is wrong with your head?
Hozuki Nozomi: Then if I can't hug you, I won't bother respecting you either.
Kirisu Mafuyu: You're going to be the death of me.
Hozuki Nozomi: I'm teasing. Relax. That day was an unusual circumstance and I acted on impulse. Mafuyu-Sensei, I'll get myself under control. I won't spring anything on you like that again.
Kirisu Mafuyu: You better keep your word.
She sent the last line and set the phone face-down on her desk. But there wasn't much satisfaction in the win.
This boy. Was he really not going to try again?
The memory ambushed her — that reckless kiss beneath the stairwell, his palms braced on either side of her head, his mouth crushing down on hers, the heat of him against her thighs through the thin fabric of her skirt. Her cheeks flooded scarlet on the spot.
How could she still be thinking about that?
And why — why — was there a thin, stubborn thread of anticipation running under her skin?
Kirisu Mafuyu drew a long breath through her nose, pressed a hand flat over the fluttering in her chest, and slowly, deliberately steadied herself back into the shape of a teacher.