The sun had fully risen by the time Haruki reached the main road.
Light spilled across the damp ground in soft gold, catching in the shallow puddles left behind by last night's rain. The air carried a faint, earthy scent, that of wet sand, cooling asphalt, and the lingering trace of morning stillness slowly giving way to life.
Haruki walked ahead without much care, hands tucked into his pockets, posture loose and unbothered. Every now and then, someone passing by would glance at him, mostly girls.
Their gaze would linger just a second longer than necessary. He responded with an easy smile, the kind that came naturally to him, and they would walk on as if nothing had happened… though not without a second look.
Behind him, the rhythm of footsteps faltered.
He exhaled slowly, already knowing.
"…Why are you following me?" He asked as if speaking to himself.
For a brief moment, nothing happened.
Then, suddenly, a metallic clatter rang out as Hori scrambled behind a nearby vending machine, her movement far louder than she seemed to realize. The machine rattled faintly from the impact. She pressed both hands over her mouth, eyes wide, as if she could physically shove the sound back inside herself.
A couple walking past slowed down. The man glanced over, frowning, while the woman's gaze drifted from the vending machine to the girl's bare feet peeking out from behind it.
Hori, aware she had been spotted, forced out a voice that didn't belong to her.
"I-I'm not following you, I am simply walking in your direction!" She tried defending herself, it was entirely unconvincing.
Haruki stared at the vending machine for a long second, his expression flattening.
"If you're just walking then why are you hiding?" He said coming closer.
"Please just keep walking Haruki-san." She insisted.
"I thought you were afraid of me or something?" He chuckled, curious why she was trailing him.
A passerby observed their interaction and muttered under his breath. "What's wrong with her…?"
"Probably homeless," another replied quietly, not bothering to hide the judgment in their voice.
Hori heard it.
Her shoulders stiffened. So far, alleys had hidden her. The open busy road didn't. Her tattered state was suddenly public.
Haruki stepped closer and crouched in front of the vending machine, resting his chin in his palm as he peered at it with mild curiosity. From where he stood, her feet were clearly visible—bare, scraped, and dirt-stained, the skin marked with small cuts that hadn't been properly treated.
"…Mr. Vending Machine," he said calmly, "don't you have parents? I thought you'd have gone home by now."
Haruki's words brought silence.
Complete and immediate.
Even the low electrical hum of the machine seemed louder in the absence of her voice.
Haruki remained there for a moment longer, as if genuinely considering whether he had said something inappropriate. Then he straightened, brushing his hands together lightly.
"Alright...!" he said, as though coming to a decision. "I'm heading to a hot spring nearby, wanna tag along?"
The words were simple. Casual.
But to Hori, they landed with unexpected weight.
There was a pause before she moved.
Slowly, cautiously, she leaned out from behind the vending machine, her face appearing first with uncertainty, and tired in a way that ran deeper than physical exhaustion.
"…A bath…?" she repeated under her breath, as if testing the reality of it.
"Yeah, I realized I was really rude trying to kill you and all that. Think of it as an apology." He added.
Hori slowly stepped out fully.
In the open light, there was no hiding it anymore.
Her clothes, if they could still be called that, were stiff with dried blood and grime, the once-white wrappings dulled into a lifeless gray. Dirt clung to her skin in uneven patches, and her legs bore the marks of days spent walking without rest. Her feet, especially, told the story she hadn't spoken aloud—raw, cut, and worn from constant movement.
People noticed.
Not loudly, not openly, but they noticed.
Their gazes lingered for a second too long before turning away, as though acknowledging it any further would demand something of them they weren't willing to give.
Hori bowed quickly, almost too quickly, her upper body dipping lower than necessary.
"Th-thank you very much…Haruki-san." Her voice came out small, posture still appreciative.
"Don't mention it, let's get you clean, Hori." Haruki recalled her name. He moved to pat her rough head, but She flinched instinctively, still wary of him. He sighed at her reaction then smiled.
---------------------------------------------------------
They walked together at a moderate pace, though "together" was generous.
Hori kept a careful distance behind him, never quite aligning her steps with his. Her arms stayed close to her body, fingers lightly tapping the fabric that held her tightly.
Whenever someone passed by, she instinctively shifted, angling herself behind Haruki's frame, using him as a quiet shield from wandering eyes.
A group of students about her age passed them, their conversation light and carefree. One of them glanced at Hori mid-laugh, and though the laughter didn't stop, something about it changed, it lowered, softened, redirected.
Hori looked down immediately, feeling shame like a physical coat.
"I hope…" she began, her voice barely rising above the ambient noise of the street.
Haruki glanced back.
"I hope I'm not being a nuisance." Hori asked.
"It's fine. I don't mind." He replied and returned his head front. It wasn't particularly reassuring, but she nodded anyway.
After a few more steps, he glanced back briefly, his eyes catching on her hair.
"…You dye it yourself?"
Hori reached up, touching a strand of dark blue as if confirming it was still there.
"So it really isn't black…?" she murmured the question.
"Nah it's blue, like dark blue." Haruki confirmed. Hori sighed, to her it looked ordinary. Jet black, although dirty from the past week of homelessness. But to others, it was a dark blue color.
She just responded bluntly.
"I didn't dye it, It was like this when I woke up."
There was a faint weight behind the words, something unspoken that lingered just beneath the surface. Haruki frowned slightly, confused by her response, but didn't press further.
"So… like, you're an orphan?" he asked instead, almost offhandedly.
She froze for half a second before shaking her head. "No, I'm not."
"Then you ran away?"
"I would never run away from home!"
The response came out sharper than she intended, cutting through the quiet between them. A couple of people nearby turned their heads briefly.
Realizing it, Hori shrank in on herself immediately, clutching her arms as if trying to contain the outburst.
"I…I'm sorry." she whispered, even though she hadn't been wrong.
Haruki clicked his tongue softly, irritated by her responses that made no sense. "…Geez. I'll just shut up I guess." He rolled his eyes.
They didn't speak again after that.
By the time the Hot Springs came into view, the tension had settled into something quieter
The building itself was modest, wider than most in the area, with faint streams of steam curling up from vents along the roof. It wasn't particularly impressive, but it carried a sense of familiarity, of routine.
A place meant for people to relax, to exist without thinking too much.
"We're here!" Haruki announced, stretching his arms upward.
Hori stopped just short of the entrance.
Her eyes lingered on the doorway.
Clean.
Warm.
Slightly Occupied.
Her feet shifted slightly against the wooden step, leaving faint marks she immediately became aware of. She looked down, suddenly conscious of the dirt, the blood, the state of her body in contrast to everything around her.
Hori glanced at the wooden pillar with carved kanji.
"…Matsumoto Springs," she read quietly, more to herself than anyone else.
When they stepped inside, warmth enveloped them almost instantly.
The air was thick with the scent of soap, minerals, and steam, a clean, comforting heat that seemed to settle into the skin. Hori's shoulders lowered slightly without her realizing it, her body reacting before her mind could.
Then she noticed the people.
A man near the lockers glanced over. A woman by the entrance paused for a moment. The attendant looked up.
Their expressions didn't change much—but their eyes did.
Hori instinctively moved half a step behind Haruki. They both approached the attendant, about the same height as Haruki.
He wore a sea blue shirt and ash shorts. His name tag reading 'Matsumoto Amane'
"Hello. What option will you be trying today?" the attendant asked Hori, polite but distracted, his gaze flicking back to her more than once.
"Amane! How's it going?!" Haruki called out loudly, completely ignoring the tension.
Amane paused, then dropped his head with a sigh. "H-Haruki-kun… you know you're banned from here, right?"
"Yeah, I know, but it's temporary, right? The old man said I could come tomorrow."
"Yes, but today isn't tomorrow, right?" Amane gave a tight, haunting smile, eyes closed.
Before the argument could escalate, a warm, shriveled voice interrupted.
"Oh my, oh my, Haruki-kun? It's been so long~"
An elderly woman approached, her own name tag reading "Matsumoto Eguchi." She grabbed Haruki's cheeks and squeezed them affectionately. "My, you're as pretty as ever, ain't ya."
"Nice to see you, Grandma," Haruki greeted, a natural blush coloring his face. Hori bowed politely, though no one seemed to care.
Haruki quickly explained that Amane was refusing him entry, faking pitiful puppy-dog eyes. The old lady immediately turned furious.
"Amane! What's wrong with you?! Are you chasing customers away now?!" She snapped, grabbing her son's ear and twisting.
"B-but Mom, Dad literally said Haruki's banned!" He protested.
"His ban ends tomorrow. Just let him in already!"
Haruki gave a small, triumphant grin, glancing sideways at Hori.
She felt strangely out of place, as if witnessing a type of loud, familial chaos she had never experienced before. 'Why are they so loud…?' The thought carried a faint edge of irritation.
As their conversation unfolded, Hori barely followed it. Her focus drifted instead to the subtle shifts around her—the way people glanced at her, then looked away, the way their attention lingered just enough to make her aware of it.
A woman passing by slowed slightly, her gaze softening when it landed on Hori.
Not judgment.
Not disgust.
Something closer to concern. Hori turned her face away immediately.
After more bickering, Amane finally relented with a defeated sigh. Granting Haruki permission.
"Enjoy yourselves~!" the old lady called after them.
"I will~" Haruki chuckled.
"Ah, I almost forgot. My friend here would like a shower first before dipping in." He pointed at the filthy, blood-streaked Hori, who clearly needed it more than anything.
Hori felt a flicker of embarrassment but stayed quiet. She had desperately wanted a bath for seven long days, yet shyness kept her silent while the others spoke.
"Okay, I'll show her to the women's bath," Eguchi-san offered warmly.