Lying in bed, Haruto drifted in and out of a hazy sleep, unsure how much time had passed.
Suddenly, he felt a weight press down on him... something heavy against his stomach. The pressure forced his eyes open with difficulty.
What came into view was a slender figure... hardly "scrawny," but by no means well-endowed either. More striking, though, was the annoyed expression glaring down at him.
"Disgusting!"
"…I haven't even said anything yet."
"What a disgusting look!"
"You're the one sitting on me, aren't you? I was just trying to figure out which heavyweight sumo wrestler decided to launch a surprise attack on me."
"I'm not that heavy!"
"No, my stomach felt it very clearly. My organs were about to be crushed. Honestly, you're a walking weapon. So? Sneaking into my room and attacking me... what exactly is your motive?"
Now fully awake, Haruto looked at Mitsuha, who was straddling him. As he sat up, her balance wavered. Haruto quickly caught her by the ankle, while she leaned forward, clutching his shoulder to avoid falling back onto his bed.
"For someone who's been out of the hospital for less than a month, this level of assassination attempt is pretty cruel, don't you think?"
"You're the one who played hero in the first place!"
Clinging to his shoulder, Mitsuha huffed in frustration. She shifted, folding her legs beneath her in a kneeling position on the bed, before letting go of his neck. Her hand pressed against his chest, sliding his shirt upward.
Ssshh—
The cold breeze from outside slipped through the unheated room, brushing across his exposed skin. Haruto shivered and quickly caught Mitsuha's hands.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I just wanted to see..."
"Huh?"
"The scars. The stitches from your surgery. They must still be there, right?"
Her gaze locked on his stomach, Mitsuha's expression betrayed her curiosity. She didn't fully understand what Haruto had gone through, but she wanted to know... needed to see.
Her fingers wandered down toward his waist, tugging at his clothes now and then as though trying to provoke him.
Annoyed, Haruto finally lifted the edge of his blanket and gestured for her to come closer.
"You're… letting me look?"
He didn't answer, only gave a slight nod.
Her curiosity got the better of her. Mitsuha leaned in, peeking beneath the blanket. In that instant, Haruto pulled it over her head, trapping her inside. He slipped out from underneath and pressed her down, sealing her inside the blanket like a prisoner.
"Let me out!"
"Stay in there for about five hundred years, then we'll talk."
"I'm getting angry!"
"If you can break free, then maybe I'll take that threat seriously."
Haruto sat on top of the bundled quilt, grinning faintly as it squirmed and shifted beneath him. No matter how much Mitsuha struggled, she couldn't escape.
It didn't take long before her resistance died down. Smiling, Haruto pulled open a small gap at the top. Her head popped out, her face flushed red with anger.
"Let me go!" she snapped.
"You're pretty cute like this, you know."
"What? Don't say stupid things!"
"If only you'd stay quiet, you'd be even cuter."
Inside the futon, Mitsuha's body was heating up. Between the thick clothes she was wearing and all the struggling, she was practically steaming. Sweat was threatening to form at her collar.
"I give up. Let me out already."
"Then shout 'I was wrong' three times."
"I was wrong! I was wrong! I was wrong! There, are you happy now?!"
Satisfied, Haruto released her. Mitsuha crawled out of the quilt, lips pressed tight as though she wanted to retort but couldn't bring herself to.
"Hmph! I'm leaving!"
"And why did you barge in here in the first place?"
"To make sure you were still breathing!"
She stormed out of the room in a hurry. Haruto watched the door close, let out a yawn, and pulled on a jacket before heading out himself.
By the time he reached the living room, the family was already gathered there.
Mitsuha sat peeling an orange. She shot him a glare, then turned back to the TV with a dismissive hmph. Yotsuha, on the other hand, watched him carefully, her voice laced with concern.
"Are you really okay now?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. The doctor already said I'd mostly recovered when I was discharged... just no heavy or intense exercise for a while."
Hearing that, Yotsuha nodded with relief. Mitsuha, though, bit her lip in frustration, realizing she'd been tricked into worrying for nothing.
Their grandmother, Hitoha, sat quietly with her teacup. She glanced at Haruto but said nothing.
It was already past three when Haruto got home earlier. After his nap, the evening had quickly fallen. Out of consideration for his long rest, Futaba had delayed dinner a little.
Now that Haruto was awake, the timing was perfect.
. . .
"Mm, we've arrived at Itomori," Haruto murmured later, connecting a call from Setsuna. She asked about his situation, and when she heard he was already home, she also inquired about Mitsuha and Yotsuha.
"They're here, same as always. Nothing's really changed. Yotsuha's grown a little taller, that's about it."
"Take care of yourself."
"You too. Keep warm."
A brief silence lingered on the line. Unsure what else to say, Haruto finally asked, "So… what are your plans during the break?"
"None. I'll probably just stay home and read."
"I see. I'll try to come back as soon as I can."
"Mm."
"Alright then. Goodnight."
"…Goodnight."
With that, Haruto ended the call. Standing in his room, he slowly sat down, staring at his phone for a while before a tired expression crept over his face.
"Your relationship with Setsuna seems… a lot colder than before."
A head suddenly popped out from the doorway... it was Mitsuha, peeking in with a nosy, gossipy look plastered across her face.
Haruto wasn't the least bit surprised that Mitsuha had been eavesdropping. He looked at the girl sneaking peeks from the doorframe and sighed.
"Kids don't need to worry about grown-up problems. Shouldn't you be in bed? If you keep staying up, don't blame me when you stop growing."
"You're not even an adult yet yourself! What are you so proud of?"
Dressed in her pajamas, Mitsuha strolled right into his room.
Earlier, Haruto hadn't bothered to turn on the heater, so the room had been a little chilly. But when he came back in from the living room, he'd flipped on the warm air conditioner, and now the temperature had risen to a comfortable level. Pajamas were more than enough to keep warm.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, Haruto watched as Mitsuha walked over, then... under his gaze flipped up his blanket and wriggled straight under it.
"This is my bed."
"Not anymore. It's mine now."
She gave the blanket a firm pat, as if sealing her claim.
"Go back to your own room. I'm exhausted and about to sleep. I don't have the energy to fool around with you."
Mitsuha said nothing, curled up tight in the blanket. Haruto rubbed his temples in exasperation, glanced at the time, then at the light still on in his room.
He stood up, switched off the lamp with a flick, and came back to the bed. Lifting the blanket, he warned softly, "I'm coming in, Mitsuha."
"..."
The girl on the bed remained silent. So Haruto slipped in under the blanket. Instantly, he felt the curled-up warmth beside him, and his movements slowed. He lay quietly along the outer edge of the mattress.
The heat made it easy to relax. Haruto stretched out carefully, then turned his head slightly toward the blanket's darkness.
Mitsuha had taken up most of the bed, curling herself into a ball that somehow hogged far more space than lying flat ever would. His single bed wasn't tiny, but it wasn't wide enough for two either. He ended up squeezed into barely a third of the space, awkward and restless.
"..."
He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, but it was impossible. Frustration bubbled up.
Finally, he lost his patience. Rolling over, he grabbed the blanket and tugged it toward himself. Mitsuha stirred immediately, clutching the other end in defiance.
"Go back to your own room."
"No way!"
Something about her reaction tonight felt… off. They wrestled with the blanket for a while, until both of them grew warm and breathless, and then, wordlessly, they stopped.
Still uncomfortable, Haruto suddenly pulled her into his arms. Like a sloth hugging a tree, he latched onto her tightly and instantly felt much more at ease.
Peeking his eyes open a crack, he studied Mitsuha's face, half-expecting her to lash out. But to his surprise, she stayed utterly quiet.
"..."
Her silence puzzled him, but fatigue dragged him down. With his eyes closed, he surrendered to the warmth, and before long, he drifted into sleep.
Mitsuha, however, wasn't sleeping. Though her eyes were shut, her mind was wide awake, her feelings a tangle.
From as far back as she could remember, she had always slept beside Haruto. Through most of elementary school, at least, until Yotsuha was born and she began sharing a room with her instead.
It's been such a long time since I was held like this.
Part of her wanted to turn, to wrap her own arms around him like when she was little, to nuzzle into his chest. But she wasn't a child anymore.
As memories drifted through her, she suddenly became aware of the soft rhythm of his breathing beside her. Turning her head, she gazed at his sleeping face. In the dimness, his profile overlapped with the image of the boy she remembered from childhood.
"Hey, what does a kiss feel like?"
She remembered the question she'd blurted one evening, while watching TV. The drama had shown a man and woman in a tender embrace, and her cheeks had burned, her heart racing with a strange excitement.
Haruto, younger then, was reading some books far beyond his age and writing something with a pen. At her question, he looked up at the screen, thoughtful.
"You'll find out when you're older."
"How old?"
"Sixteen… no, eighteen. Actually, let's say twenty-four."
"Twenty-four?! That's forever! I don't want to wait that long!"
"Then go ask Mom. She used to kiss you all the time when you were a baby, right?"
Mitsuha had puffed out her chubby cheeks, glaring at the screen.
"But on TV it's always a boy and a girl."
"Then go find... uh…" Haruto had faltered, glancing at her, then at the TV again, before ducking back to his book in silence.
Angry, she had stomped over, chubby hands grabbing his face as she puckered her lips... wet with drool and shoved them toward him.
—
Shudder.
Haruto's eyes flew open. A sudden chill ran down his spine.
God, why do I dream about that?
He had tried so hard to forget that embarrassing, traumatizing memory, and yet here it was, replaying in his head!
Clutching his mouth, he fought down the nausea until the feeling passed. Only then did he realize Mitsuha was still asleep beside him… and sometime during the night, Yotsuha had wormed her way in as well, snuggled right between them.
Haruto turned his head. He was already clinging to the edge of the bed, one wrong move away from tumbling to the floor.
~~~~~~~~~~
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