Yukino Yukinoshita heard Hozuki Nozomi's words and instinctively glanced past him at Mahiru on his other side.
Sure enough, Shiina Mahiru's cheeks carried a faint pink flush, and she had already tilted her head to rest against his shoulder — shy, docile, entirely at ease.
Mahiru even threw her a small wink, which was enough to send crimson rushing across Miss Yukinoshita's cheeks.
"Mahiru, honestly..."
Yukino Yukinoshita couldn't help pouting.
In private, Mahiru always teased her for being too compliant with him — yet look at her now, no different at all.
She let her eyes drift across the surrounding seats.
The other couples really were leaning into one another, some whispering, some laced together at the fingers.
One bold pair was kissing outright, unbothered by the flicker of the screen washing over them.
It left Miss Yukinoshita completely dumbstruck.
Hozuki Nozomi lowered his head slightly and brushed his lips against her cheek. "See, Yukino? I wasn't lying to you, was I?"
Yukino Yukinoshita bit her lip. First, mirroring Mahiru, she obediently rested her head against his chest; then she raised her hand and patted the arm circled around her waist.
"Just so we're clear — no funny business. We're watching the movie properly, understood?"
"Otherwise, I won't let you touch me anymore."
"Understood. I'll behave for Yukino."
Surveillance cameras dotted the ceiling anyway, so he had no intention of putting on a show for other people.
He simply wanted to hold her and Mahiru while the film played.
A little closeness set the right mood, didn't it?
Sitting there stiff as a plank would have been unbearably dull.
….
Feeling the quickened pulse of Miss Yukinoshita and Shiina Mahiru against him, Hozuki Nozomi allowed himself a small smile.
He did nothing further and turned his attention to the screen.
He was, admittedly, curious.
The Record of the Nine-Turn Large Intestine Incident — it certainly sounded like a murder mystery in disguise.
Between reels, he indulged in the softness of his fiancée's body against his side, in the sweet scent lifting from her hair. Mahiru's warmth on his other side was every bit its equal — subtler perhaps, but no less inviting.
The movie's plot, meanwhile, unraveled in one melodramatic twist after another.
The general premise: during a cooking reality show, Little Fatty served up his signature "Nine-Turn Large Intestine" and, allegedly, poisoned one of the judges.
However, after painstaking investigation by a detective, it emerged that Little Fatty was not the murderer at all.
The killer, in fact, was the judge himself.
He had suffered a heart attack shortly after eating the dish and dropped dead on the spot.
But the story didn't stop there.
Another twist waited in the wings.
The detective, as it turned out, was an undercover officer embedded in a criminal syndicate; Little Fatty was the young master of that very gang; and the judge had faked his death entirely.
At last, with the judge's immortal line — "Sorry, I'm undercover" — the syndicate was hauled in and the truth spilled into daylight.
It turned out Little Fatty's gang had been using a specialty large-intestine restaurant as a front for smuggling illegal white powder.
To boost the restaurant's reputation — and their shipping volume — they'd signed up for the show.
The judge, as an undercover operative, had needed to stall Little Fatty long enough for his colleagues to close in, which was why he'd staged the whole heart-attack routine.
...
When the credits rolled, Yukino Yukinoshita's head was spinning.
How on earth had a dish like Nine-Turn Large Intestine spiraled into a story this convoluted?
What had the scriptwriter been on when they wrote it?
The most absurd stretch — Little Fatty and the judge falling for the same female lead, coming to blows over her, only for the judge to reveal his undercover status — genuinely defied words.
What on earth had she just watched.
She turned her head and found the earlier couple still lip-locked, oblivious to the world.
Yukino Yukinoshita was speechless.
Were they social butterflies, or was this some new subspecies?
...
Once the movie ended, Hozuki Nozomi guided Yukino and Mahiru out of the cinema, one on each arm.
On the way, he offered them a smile.
"So? How was it? Any good?"
Yukino Yukinoshita kept her expression composed and gave a small nod.
"It wasn't bad. The scriptwriter had some genuinely refreshing ideas, and the layered reversals delivered a rather unusual emotional experience."
"That said — your hands could have shown a bit more restraint."
"Exactly. Hozuki Nozomi, you're such a tease, always finding excuses to touch us."
Shiina Mahiru pursed her lips in a light complaint.
Hozuki Nozomi offered a sheepish smile.
"I only touched a little. The atmosphere was too perfect, wasn't it? And with the adorable Yukino and Mahiru pressed right against me, of course I wanted to be closer."
Yukino Yukinoshita rolled her eyes at him, though there was no real reproach behind it.
She was only registering a complaint against his impropriety.
In truth, she — like Mahiru — was thoroughly pleased with how close he'd kept her.
"Where to next? It's still early."
Yukino Yukinoshita glanced up at him, faintly puzzled.
Hozuki Nozomi smiled, an idea already surfacing.
"How about ramen? I heard there's a decent place not far from here."
"Sounds good!"
"I'm in!"
Yukino Yukinoshita and Shiina Mahiru's eyes brightened in tandem.
Because slurping ramen carried a whiff of impropriety, most image-conscious young women steered clear of ramen shops altogether.
Even when they did indulge, they preferred places with private booths or partitions where they could eat unseen.
Hozuki Nozomi had only one thought about all that.
Overly precious.
Still, none of it mattered to him; he didn't come often enough for it to matter.
Today, he'd let Yukino and Mahiru sample a few specialty bowls for themselves.
...
When they arrived at the ramen shop, Hozuki Nozomi and the two girls immediately spotted a pair of very familiar faces hunched over steaming bowls at a corner table.
Taking a closer look:
"Hiratsuka-sensei, Mafuyu-sensei!"
"What a coincidence — you two are here as well?"
Kirisu Mafuyu and Hiratsuka Shizuka both stiffened, matching flushes crawling up their necks.
Hiratsuka Shizuka pressed a finger urgently to her lips, shushing them. "Shhh, keep it down. Get over here — quickly."
She was, at present, deep in the trenches of the arranged-marriage season; and while none of the meetings had borne fruit, appearances still had to be maintained.
Lately there had been a strange phenomenon — young women caught eating ramen in public tended to attract very peculiar glances.
Hiratsuka Shizuka's gaze slid to the trio's interlaced fingers, and resentment flooded her expression at once.
"Are you… on a date?"
All three of you?
"Yep. It's rare we run into you, Hiratsuka-sensei — care to treat us to ramen?"
Hiratsuka Shizuka's lips twisted into a pout. "Why don't you treat me, you brat! What kind of nerve does a runt like you have, dating two girls at once? Is that any way to behave?"
Kirisu Mafuyu, similarly displeased, shot him a sharp glare of her own. Her ponytail slipped over one shoulder as she straightened, the loose collar of her blouse dipping just enough to expose the hollow of her collarbone before she tugged it back into place — a small, unconscious motion that didn't escape his notice.
Hozuki Nozomi grinned and steered Yukino and Mahiru toward the nearby table.
"I'll happily treat. Just means you owe me next time, sensei."
"And Mafuyu-sensei — shall I cover yours as well?"
Kirisu Mafuyu gave a soft hmph, quickly finished off her noodles, and dabbed her lips with a napkin.
"No need. I'm heading back."
As she brushed past him, she gave her head a firm shake, and a strand of fragrant hair swept lightly across his cheek — jasmine, warm from her skin, gone before he could catch its full weight.
Kirisu Mafuyu quickened her pace and slipped out of the shop without looking back.
Hozuki Nozomi exhaled a quiet sigh but made no move to stop her.
Sooner or later, she would be his all the same.