(The night was quiet, and the room was steeped in a stillness broken only by intermittent breaths of fatigue. Ahmed turned slightly to look at Misaki sleeping beside him. Her face was calm, her features steeped in the innocence of a dream, and the moonlight stealing in from the window drew soft, delicate lines on her cheeks.
But his eyes, with the spontaneity of a young man unaccustomed to the closeness of a girl, fell upon the details of her body hidden beneath the blanket. A moment of innocent curiosity mixed with the flutter of his heart, and a whisper escaped him, closer to a thought than an intended statement:
Ahmed (in Japanese, in a faint voice that was barely audible):
"You have a big chest."
He had barely finished his words when he noticed Misaki's eyes slowly opening. She stared at him for a moment, and her features did not hide her shyness, which appeared like a pink flower on her cheeks. Ahmed felt as if his heart had stopped, and he froze in his place, unable to catch what had escaped him.
Silence reigned. A heavy silence, yet it was full of a strange confusion and a hidden warmth that neither of them yet understood.)