The shocking scar was exposed to the open air, and the atmosphere in the room dropped to absolute zero in an instant.
Two seconds after Takahashi Mio, Hasegawa Saori finally looked down at the young man's arm. Her cold, icy eyes instantly cleared—like morning frost melting under the first light of dawn.
The scars were like a lit fuse, burning behind her eyes, pulling and igniting memories buried deep within...
....
Hoo... hoo... hoo...
In the final sprint before sunset, the girl panted heavily. She spotted the red flag standing by the stream and finally stopped.
Fatigue immediately crashed over her like a wave. She plopped down onto the grass—no grace, no hesitation—her body spreading out in a lazy "大" shape as she collapsed onto the slope.
Her tied ponytail dug into her back. Uncomfortable.
Hasegawa Saori frowned unconsciously, reached a hand behind her head, and pulled off her hair tie.
Her long, dark hair fanned out across the grass like silk spilling from a loom. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves above, falling in warm patches on her hair, her face, her neck.
The warmth made her eyelids grow heavy. Sleep crept up on little cat feet. Her breathing slowed, steadied, and her consciousness began to blur at the edges.
Just as she was about to drift off...
She felt the light on her eyelids get blocked.
Something was off. She opened her eyes.
Shiratori Seiya was looking down at her.
"You're being disobedient. Again."
Sleepiness scattered like startled birds. Saori pursed her lips, propped her palms on the grass, and sat upright.
Her eyes dropped. She didn't say a word—too guilty to even look at the young man beside her.
Click.
Shiratori Seiya glanced at her, equal parts exasperated and fond. He didn't bother repeating the lecture he'd given her countless times already. Instead, he twisted open a bottle of mineral water and held it to her lips.
"Drink some water first. Small sips. Just moisten your throat."
"Oh."
Now that he mentioned it... her throat was a bit dry.
Saori licked the corner of her mouth, took the bottle, and carefully drank a few sips. When only half the water remained, she stared at the darkened tips of her sneakers and couldn't help but ask:
"Is Seiya angry?"
Her question was met with silence. The girl's fair, nimble ears twitched.
She was about to sneak a peek at his expression when she heard the crinkle of a plastic bag.
Curious, she looked up and saw Shiratori Seiya pulling a paper box from the bag.
"Of course I'm angry."
Shiratori Seiya looked her straight in the eyes and said seriously:
"I've told you so many times, and you still don't listen. I think you're trying to give me a heart attack."
People shouldn't sit down immediately after running. The blood pools in the legs, increases the heart's workload, and messes up muscle metabolism. He'd explained this to Saori more times than he could count. But did she listen? Of course not.
There was a way to solve it, though. If Hasegawa Saori wouldn't listen... he'd just have to work a little harder.
Shiratori Seiya opened the box and pulled out a pair of black athletic shoes. He patted the girl's thigh.
"Lift your leg over."
"Oh."
Hasegawa Saori knew this routine well by now. Her slender waist arched, and her long leg rose steadily, settling onto Shiratori Seiya's lap.
But this time felt different.
She looked at the new shoes sitting beside Shiratori Seiya. Her eyes lit up. She pursed her red lips, unable to hold back:
"Um... are those new shoes Seiya bought?"
Shiratori Seiya's palm covered her calf, massaging the tired muscle. Hearing her question, he glanced at her.
The expression on her face was painfully obvious—They're for Saori, right? Right?! —and he found it rather amusing.
A mischievous thought popped into his head. He straightened his face and said in a deep, serious voice:
"Yeah. I originally bought them for you. But you're too disobedient, so I'll just wear them myself."
"Huh?"
Hearing that, Saori's expression froze solid. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as she stared blankly at Shiratori Seiya.
After a moment, she snapped out of it. She reached out, poked the young man's shoulder, and said in her most aggrieved voice:
"Saori was wrong. Will you forgive Saori, please?"
"It's not the first time. How many times do I have to forgive you?"
Shiratori Seiya said coolly, then put down the girl's left leg.
"The other one."
"Oh."
As her left leg lowered, a tingling, relaxing sensation spread through her muscles. Hasegawa Saori shifted her bottom, turned around, and swung her other leg onto his lap.
She bit her lip, then couldn't help sneaking another glance at the new shoes. Her cheeks puffed out as she racked her brain for a solution.
Suddenly—a flash of inspiration!
She quickly reached out and tugged at the young man's sleeve.
"But... but Seiya can't wear them!"
Shiratori Seiya was genuinely surprised she'd thought of that. He narrowed his eyes and looked at her again, but kept his face perfectly neutral.
"Then I'll just return them."
"Huh?"
"Won't that be troublesome?"
Hasegawa Saori's eyes grew even more pitiful. Moisture welled up, making them glisten. She leaned closer to Shiratori Seiya and whispered:
"Seiya would rather return them than let Saori wear them?"
"Mistakes always have to be punished. Otherwise, you never learn."
"Saori knows she was wrong..."
"No means no. Not up for discussion."
"Oh."
Seeing there was no hope left, Hasegawa Saori lowered her head and started fiddling with her fingers. She lay back down, staring forlornly at the tree shade above.
But... it's so tiring every time I run...
As she was fretting over her misfortune, Hasegawa Saori suddenly felt a cool sensation on her feet. She looked down.
Shiratori Seiya had already taken off her shoes.
Her heart leaped.
"Ah?!"
A gasp escaped her lips. The girl stared at Shiratori Seiya with wide, surprised eyes.
A faint smell of sweat wafted into the air. Even she could smell it.
Hasegawa Saori's fair face flushed crimson in an instant. Her toes—still wrapped in white socks—curled up tight. She abruptly pulled her leg away from Shiratori Seiya's hands and tucked her foot under her bottom.
She secretly raised her eyes to glance at him, then bit her lip.
"Seiya... you're Hentai."
"Huh?"
"Is Seiya finally unable to resist?"
The girl's fingers twisted together. She sniffed, realized she could still smell the odor, and quickly shuffled away from Shiratori Seiya.
Then, perhaps worried that might hurt his feelings, she pursed her cherry lips again and added:
"H isn't impossible... but not right now..."
Hearing that, Shiratori Seiya finally understood what was going through her head. He couldn't help but laugh.
"Then when does Saori think it's okay?"
"At least... at least not until tomorrow morning..."
"Oh. I thought it would be okay after washing your feet."
Hearing him say that, the girl's face turned even redder. The flush spread all the way to her neck. Shame swelled in her chest until she could barely breathe. She pressed her legs together tightly.
Finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Seiya is a bad guy!"
Looking at Saori's flustered, adorable expression, Shiratori Seiya found it even more amusing. He pretended to be disappointed.
"It's not okay? I brought water. I want to do it now. If we wait until tomorrow morning, I won't want to anymore."
"Mmm..."
Hearing that, Hasegawa Saori's face twisted with conflict.
This was the first time Shiratori Seiya had ever made a request like this.
She'd fantasized about it before, sure. But... now? After a full minute of agonizing hesitation, Hasegawa Saori sat up straight.
"Saori wants to wash them herself..."
"No."
"Eh?"
Her request was rejected immediately—completely beyond her expectations. She turned her head, stretching her neck like a confused goose, to stare at him.
Before she could react, Shiratori Seiya grabbed her ankle, pulled off her sock, and began rinsing the dirt from between her toes with water.
His voice was soft.
"I wouldn't dislike you. If I were going to dislike someone over something this small... there'd be no point in being together."
"Besides... I'm happy to be able to help Saori."