The night was still, cloaked in silver. Moonlight spilled across the tatami, turning the silence into something alive—watchful, judging.
Miyu tossed and turned beneath her thin blanket, her body a battlefield. Every time she shut her eyes, the memory came rushing back: Haruto's hand over hers, his breath brushing her cheek, his warmth pressed too close.
Her thighs clenched. Her lips quivered. Her heart screamed.
"No more…" she whispered into the dark, clutching the fabric of her robe.
Her body betrayed her again, heat pooling low, her hand twitching towards where she shouldn't. She buried her face into her pillow, suffocating a broken gasp.
Ayame was right. I can't hide this anymore… I can't fight it…
Tears pricked her eyes, half from guilt, half from the unbearable ache. Finally, with a shuddering breath, she rose.
Bare feet kissed the cold wood of the hallway as she padded through the shadows, drawn by instinct more than choice. Every step was a prayer for strength, every heartbeat a confession waiting to break free.
She stopped outside Haruto's room.
The paper door was closed, but his faint breathing seeped through. Steady. Gentle. Kind. The sound alone made her knees weak.
Her hand hovered over the door, trembling.
If I go in… I can't turn back.
Her body pressed forward anyway. The door slid open with a whisper.
Haruto stirred, his eyes opening slowly. He blinked, confused, until he saw her standing there in the moonlight—hair unkempt, robe loosely tied, face flushed with desperation.
"Miyu…?" his voice was soft, drowsy, full of concern. "What's wrong? Are you—"
"I… I can't…" she choked, stepping inside before she lost her nerve. The door slid shut behind her, sealing them in.
Haruto sat up, alarmed, reaching toward her. "You're trembling. Did something happen?"
Miyu's legs nearly buckled. She fell to her knees beside his futon, her hands clutching the sheets. Her head bowed, her hair hiding her burning face.
"I can't stop thinking of you…"
The words slipped out, raw, trembling, soaked with shame.
Haruto froze.
Miyu's breath came in ragged bursts, her voice breaking.
"I tried—I tried to resist—I prayed, I scolded myself, but every time you're near, I… I…" Her hands tightened on the blanket, knuckles white. "It hurts. It burns inside me. I'm… I'm wrong, I know I'm wrong… but I can't… I can't anymore!"
Tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping onto the sheets.
She finally lifted her head—eyes shimmering, lips parted, body trembling like a sinner before judgment.
"Haruto… please… save me from myself… or… or take me and end this torment."
The moonlight cut across her face, exposing everything she'd hidden, every crack in her heart, every ounce of forbidden longing she could no longer contain.
"Miyu…"
Haruto's voice was low, hushed, almost afraid of breaking her fragile state. He reached forward, his fingers brushing against her trembling hand. Her skin was icy, though her body trembled with heat.
"You've been carrying this alone all this time…" His eyes softened, guilt threading through his chest. "You should have told me sooner. I never wanted you to suffer like this."
Miyu shook her head, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. "I… I couldn't… I didn't want to taint you. You're kind, Haruto. Good. I… I'm the broken one."
Haruto cupped her cheek, tilting her face toward him. Tears glistened under the moonlight, running down flushed skin. He brushed them away with his thumb, gentle as spring rain.
"You're not broken," he whispered. "You're human. Just like me."
The words struck her deeper than any embrace could. A sob escaped, but she leaned into his palm, desperate for warmth.
He pulled her closer, cradling her head against his chest. Her ear pressed to his heartbeat—steady, strong, safe. His arms wrapped around her as though shielding her from the world, from herself.
"Haruto…" her whisper trembled, muffled by his chest. "Why… why do you still hold me like this? Don't you see how dirty I've become?"
His hand slid gently down her back, soothing her shaking frame. "Because you're Miyu. Because I care. Because I don't want you to drown in guilt when all you wanted was to love."
Her breath caught. The words broke the last thread holding her restraint.
Slowly, she lifted her head, eyes glassy, lips trembling. She looked at him as if asking permission—not with words, but with every broken piece of her soul.
Haruto swallowed, torn between duty and desire. He should have pulled away, reminded her of right and wrong. But the way she clung to him, the way her tears mixed with longing—it crushed his resolve.
"Miyu…" he murmured, his forehead touching hers, "I'll protect you… even from this pain."
The air between them thinned. Her lips parted, trembling. And in the softest, most inevitable moment, their mouths met.
Her sob melted into a kiss.
It was fragile at first—uncertain, testing—until the dam of repression shattered. Miyu pressed closer, desperate, her hands clutching at his robe as if he were the only anchor she had left.
Haruto responded, hesitant but unable to stop. His lips moved with hers, tasting her tears, her desperation, her love wrapped in shame.
When they broke for breath, Miyu's face was crimson, her eyes wet and shimmering. She whispered, almost begging, "Please… don't stop… not tonight… I need this… I need you…"
Haruto's heart pounded. His hand trembled where it rested against her hip. The weight of the choice crushed him—but the way her body leaned into his, the raw need in her eyes, told him it was already made.
"Then… let me take care of you," he breathed, voice unsteady but sincere.
Miyu gasped, shuddering, as if the words themselves were a release. She nodded, her body collapsing into his embrace once more.
The futon shifted under their weight as Haruto guided her down gently, still holding her as though she might break. Their lips met again, deeper, slower, filled with a tenderness that carried both guilt and devotion.
And as the moonlight spilled across their entwined figures, the night became the beginning of something they could never undo.
The kiss left them trembling. Miyu lay beneath him, her lips swollen, her breath quick and uneven.
"Haruto…" she whispered, voice breaking with both fear and yearning. "Please… I can't hold it in anymore."
He hovered above her, his heart a storm. "Miyu… if we go further, there's no going back."
"I don't want to go back," she whispered, clutching at his robe. "I want… you."
The last word cracked something inside him. His breath shuddered as he leaned down, kissing her again—deeper, hungrier. His hands slid along her trembling body, tracing the curve of her waist, the trembling rise of her chest.
Her kimono loosened beneath his fingers. Each knot he untied made her gasp softly, her body arching in nervous anticipation.
When the silk finally slipped open, moonlight poured over pale, trembling skin. Miyu's hands shot up instinctively, covering her chest, her face burning crimson.
"D-don't look… I—"
Haruto caught her wrists gently, lowering them with care. His gaze never once turned cruel or mocking—only soft, reverent. "You're beautiful," he whispered.
Her breath hitched, and her arms went slack. For the first time, she let someone see her completely.
He leaned down, kissing the tears from her cheeks, then lower, his lips brushing along her neck, her collarbone. Miyu gasped, her body shivering under his touch.
When his mouth reached her chest, she covered her lips to stifle the cry that escaped. His lips closed gently around one of her soft, pink nipples, sucking tenderly.
"Ah—H-Haruto…" her voice cracked, trembling between shame and delight.
His tongue circled slowly, teasing, savoring her every reaction. His free hand cupped the other breast, kneading gently, sending shockwaves through her body.
Her legs shifted restlessly beneath the futon, thighs pressing together, heat building between them.
"Haruto… it feels… too much…" she whimpered.
He lifted his head, meeting her half-lidded, tear-filled eyes. "Then let me ease you," he murmured, sliding lower.
Miyu's breath came ragged, her body taut with anticipation as his lips trailed kisses down her stomach, each one lower than the last. Her trembling hands gripped the futon tight.
When his fingers brushed against her inner thighs, she squeaked, squeezing her legs shut.
"M-Mn… don't… it's embarrassing…"
Haruto gently coaxed her knees apart, kissing her thigh softly. "You don't need to hide from me," he whispered.
The air grew heavy as he spread her trembling legs, revealing the glistening heat of her pussy under the moonlight. Miyu turned her face aside, shame burning through her—but the throbbing ache between her thighs betrayed her.
Haruto's breath caught at the sight, but he didn't hesitate. He lowered his mouth, his lips brushing against her swollen folds.
"Ah—!" Miyu's entire body jolted, a sharp gasp breaking from her lips.
He kissed her pussy tenderly, then parted her folds with his tongue, tasting her for the first time. Her nectar was warm, sweet, intoxicating.
"Ha… Hah—Haruto… nnnhh!" She writhed helplessly, her back arching as his tongue flicked against her clit.
Every stroke of his tongue melted her resistance further. The shame that had chained her for so long unraveled into moans and broken whispers.
"D-don't stop… ahh… please don't stop…"
Her thighs clamped around his head, her body trembling violently as his mouth worked her pussy with steady, loving devotion. His hands pressed gently against her hips, holding her as he drew wave after wave of pleasure from her fragile frame.
Miyu's cries filled the night, desperate, unrestrained—her first surrender to the forbidden bliss she had feared for so long.
And Haruto, tasting her as though she were the only truth in the world, knew there was no turning back.
Miyu's body quivered like a bowstring, stretched tight and ready to snap. Haruto's tongue slid over her swollen clit again, slow and deliberate, and her voice tore free in a cry she could no longer suppress.
"Ahhh—H-Haruto! I… I can't—!"
Her fingers clutched at his hair, half-pleading for him to stop, half-demanding more. Her thighs clamped desperately around his head, but Haruto pressed deeper, drinking in her taste as though her very soul poured into his mouth.
Every flick, every swirl of his tongue shattered another wall inside her. Shame gave way to waves of pure sensation—raw, overwhelming, impossible to resist.
Her hips bucked helplessly, chasing his mouth even as she whimpered, "N-no… it's too much… I'm… going to—"
Then it hit her.
A sudden rush surged from deep inside her, crashing like a tidal wave.
"Ahhhh—! Haaahhh—Haru…tooo!"
Her entire body arched off the futon, trembling violently as her climax exploded. Hot streams of nectar spilled against his lips, her pussy tightening uncontrollably under his tongue. Tears streaked down her flushed cheeks as she gasped, shuddering, moaning in broken cries.
Haruto didn't stop. He held her hips gently, riding her through the storm, savoring every drop of her sweetness. Only when her body finally sagged, trembling and spent, did he lift his head.
Her chest heaved, her hair sticking to her damp cheeks, her eyes glazed in afterglow.
"H-Haruto… what… was that…?" she whispered weakly, her voice trembling with both wonder and fear.
He brushed a kiss against her thigh, then her stomach, then finally her lips. "Your first climax," he murmured softly. "It was beautiful."
Her eyes welled with fresh tears, though this time not of shame—but release. She buried her face in his chest, sobbing softly, clinging to him as though afraid she might disappear.
Haruto stroked her back gently, whispering, "It's all right. You don't have to be afraid anymore. I'll guide you… slowly."
When her breathing calmed, he leaned down, kissing her once more, and began to shift his body over hers.
Miyu felt it immediately—the heat pressing against her thigh. She gasped, her body stiffening. "H-Haruto… i-is that…"
He swallowed, his voice hushed but steady. "Yes. It's me."
Her eyes widened, heart pounding as she felt the tip of his cock brushing against the slick entrance of her pussy. She trembled violently, torn between terror and anticipation.
"I… I don't know if I can…"
Haruto cupped her face, his thumb brushing her tear-stained cheek. "Then I'll wait," he whispered. "But if you want me… I'll be gentle. I'll make it so you never regret this moment."
Miyu's lips quivered. Her body still trembled from her climax, but deep inside, a new warmth stirred—an aching desire she could no longer deny. She nodded slowly, closing her eyes.
"…Please," she breathed.
Haruto kissed her softly, positioning himself at her entrance, his cock sliding against her soaked folds. The moment of truth hung between them, heavy with heat and trembling hearts.
And as Miyu clutched at him, bracing herself for what came next, the night deepened—ready to witness the final step of their first sin.