The air in the room seemed to compress all at once.
The silence was so complete that the distant tick-tock of the living-room clock was audible.
Marin, still straddling him, blinked once, twice, as if reality had taken an extra second to catch up with her.
And then—
Cough cough.
A delicate little cough echoed from the doorway.
"I hope I'm not… interrupting anything."
Iyo's voice was calm, but it carried that dangerous "mom-who-already-knows-everything" tone.
Marin practically launched herself off Isagi like he'd turned into a hot stove.
"AAAAH! N-n-no, it's not like that at all, Iyo-san!" she shrieked, hands flailing like helicopter blades, face on fire. "We just—I tripped, he tried to catch me, and… and then gravity won, you know?! Damn you, gravity!!"
Isagi slowly lifted his gaze, half-lidded eyes fixed on his mother in a look that mixed exhaustion and pure disbelief. He didn't need to say anything; the heavy sigh that escaped him already screamed: Seriously, Mom? Right now?
He sat up on the bed, propped an elbow on his knee, and dragged a hand down his face, trying to pull himself together. His heart was still racing, but now the dominant feeling was a cocktail of frustration and mortification. His mother, meanwhile, stood in the doorway completely unfazed, arms loosely crossed, wearing her usual serene smile.
It was impossible to tell whether she actually bought the "gravity" excuse or was just enjoying the show.
Marin—bright red from collarbone to hairline—was frantically trying to wrestle her white shirt back on, tripping over the sleeves in the process. Her golden hair clung slightly to her flushed skin from the earlier heat, and she was buttoning at warp speed, as if getting fully dressed in ten seconds flat could erase the last five minutes.
"I-I swear it was an accident, Iyo-san! I just lost my balance when I went to grab my clothes after Isagi-kun took my measurements…" Marin babbled, smoothing her skirt and letting out nervous little giggles.
Iyo remained perfectly still in the doorway, watching the chaos with almost unsettling calm. When Marin finally finished her breathless explanation, still stumbling over words, the older woman simply tilted her head and said in a gentle, maternal tone:
"No need to worry, Marin-chan. I trust you both. These kinds of unfortunate accidents happen sometimes…"
Her smile was sweet, but there was a subtle glint in her eyes—something between pride and amusement—like she was watching her son grow up right in front of her… and having the time of her life with their panic.
Isagi glanced up just long enough to meet her gaze, and one second of eye contact was enough: she's trying so hard not to laugh.
Somehow that both annoyed and relieved him at the same time.
"So…" Iyo continued, arms still crossed, still perfectly in control of the situation. "You've finished taking all the measurements, right?"
The tone was light, but the subtext was crystal clear: I need to know nothing else happened in here.
Isagi let out a sigh that carried the exhaustion of an entire overtime match. "Yeah, Mom… all done."
He avoided looking at her too long and turned his eyes toward Marin, who was still battling the buttons on her Ichinan Academy uniform. Her face was red all the way to her ears, and the way she was pretending everything was normal only made it more obvious.
"Y-yep! All good, Iyo-san!" Marin chirped with a smile that wobbled at the edges while she fixed her collar. "Perfect measurements! Costume guaranteed! Zero sewing disasters in sight!"
"I'm glad to hear it," Iyo replied with a graceful nod, then added, "When you're done tidying up, come down to the living room. I made tea."
With that, she turned and closed the door behind her with the same elegance she'd used to open it.
Click.
The moment the soft sound of the latch settled, silence returned—heavy, but this time almost comical.
Marin let out a shaky breath and pressed both hands to her burning cheeks. "…I'm gonna die of embarrassment."
Isagi stayed sitting on the edge of the bed for another second, face still warm, but a crooked smile finally broke through despite everything. He lowered his hand from his face and looked at Marin—she was trying to tame her messy hair, cheeks flaming.
"You? Die of embarrassment?" he muttered. "I thought that wasn't in your vocabulary. You're always so bold—stripping out of nowhere, talking about eroge like it's the weather. I was pretty sure nothing could rattle you."
Marin froze mid-sleeve-fix, blinked at him with eyes still sparkling from laughter and nerves, then plopped down on the bed beside him. Her body was still radiating leftover heat. She gave him a light punch on the shoulder, as if that could dispel the charged air.
"Hey, those things are totally different, okay? Being an eroge and cosplay nerd is one thing—it's fantasy, it's fun! But this…" She waved vaguely at the room, at the two of them, cheeks flushing again. "This is real life! And your mom walking in out of nowhere? Kyaa, I almost had a heart attack! Imagine if she thought we were… you know."
She laughed softly, trying to mask the tremble in her voice, but it came out gentle and shaky—like her heart had decided to join the conversation. She looked away, biting her lower lip while trying to catch her breath and her composure.
Deep down, her pulse was racing—not just from the embarrassment, but from the memory of how close they'd been. The feel of his hands still burned on her skin, the warmth of his body trapped beneath hers, the faint masculine scent of him… Everything felt out of control and perfectly right at the same time.
For a moment her mind drifted.
It was almost hilarious how the whole scene felt ripped straight from one of the games she loved—except this time the protagonist wasn't a 2D pretty boy, but Isagi…
"He's so serious…" she thought, feeling her face heat up again. "But cute when he tries to protect me."
She shook her head and lightly slapped her own cheeks as if to chase the thoughts away.
"Marin, stop it!" she scolded herself silently, but the stubborn little smile tugging at her lips gave away that she wasn't even slightly convinced.
While Marin was lost in her own whirlwind, Isagi let out a resigned sigh followed by a short, dry laugh. He shook his head slowly, like someone finally accepting his terrible luck with tired humor.
"Yeah, well," he said, a lopsided grin slipping out. "My mom's a master of bad timing. I just learned that today too… At least she didn't freak out. I think she likes you."
Marin snapped out of her daze, turned to him, and the sparkle in her eyes returned full force.
"Really? Yay!" she exclaimed, her usual enthusiasm flooding back. "I love her too! She's so cool about cosplay and everything… Anyway, let's go downstairs before she shows up again? I'm dying for that tea."
Before Isagi could answer, she bounced to her feet and held out her hand—simple, but brimming with that vibrant energy that was purely Marin. Her radiant, open, genuine smile was the same as always, but now there was a tiny hint of hidden shyness behind it, a nervousness she pretended wasn't there.
Isagi looked at the offered hand, hesitated half a second, then took it. The touch was quick, light, almost casual… but it was enough for his heart to slam once, hard, as if his body had betrayed every ounce of self-control he was clinging to.
"Sure, Kitagawa-san," he replied, softer than he meant to. "Let's go."
Before heading down, Isagi grabbed his neatly folded soccer uniform from the foot of the bed. Each step on the stairs seemed to drag him back to what had just happened upstairs—body still warm, thoughts tangled, heart struggling to find its normal rhythm while memories of being that close to Marin refused to fade.
In the hallway he veered away from the kitchen and went straight to the laundry room. He opened the washing machine, tossed the uniform inside, grabbed the detergent from the shelf. The glug of liquid, the click of the button, the low hum of the machine starting up—it all acted like an anchor, a way to drag routine back into place even while his mind kept replaying the earlier scene on endless loop.
The sound of water filling the drum became white noise, muffling the buzz in his head. It was almost comforting, normalcy creeping back in.
"Damn it, Mom…" he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. The moment had been… perfect. Or almost. And then she just had to appear.
He let out another heavy sigh, went to the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and chugged the whole thing, the cold sliding down his throat and slowly cooling his body. The clink of the empty bottle hitting the sink was louder than he expected, but he didn't care.
He refilled it, put it back, ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath.
"Okay, Isagi. Breathe. Pretend nothing happened."
When he finally walked into the living room, the scene waiting for him was… surreal.
Marin was sitting cross-legged on the couch, huge smile, hands waving animatedly while explaining something to Iyo—who was listening with genuine interest, eyes bright.
"…And you know that vinyl-like fabric that shines but is lighter? I was thinking of using it for the alternate Shizuku-tan version, but the heat at the event would kill me, so maybe matte after all."
"I see," Iyo nodded calmly, resting her chin on her hand. "But vinyl shine really does suit that kind of dark outfit. You have excellent aesthetic sense, Marin-chan."
Marin beamed. "Really?! Aww, thank you, Iyo-san! Nobody usually gets it that fast!"
Isagi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching them. It was… weird. Seeing his mom and Marin chatting like old friends about cosplay, of all things. A half-smile crept onto his face, but his thoughts kept drifting back to a few minutes ago.
He glanced out the window, trying to push the memory away.
"If this keeps up, I'm gonna lose my mind."
"Isagi-kun!" Marin's cheerful voice snapped him out of it. She waved enthusiastically, radiant as ever. "Come here! I was telling your mom about the new cosplay and she totally gets the vibe!"
"Gets the vibe?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow and walking over to the couch.
Iyo chuckled softly, light and warm. "Yes. Marin-chan has a very clear vision of what she wants. She explained everything with so much passion I can practically see the finished costume in my head."
Marin puffed out her chest proudly, eyes sparkling. "See? Iyo-san gets it! I told you this project is gonna be amazing, but you were all 'it's too much work.' Sure, it might be, but the result will be worth it!"
Isagi dropped onto the couch beside her with a resigned sigh. "I didn't say it wouldn't be worth it, just that—"
"—that it was too complicated, I know," she interrupted, sticking her tongue out playfully. "But that's what cosplay is about, right? If it was easy, it wouldn't be fun."
Iyo watched them with that same serene gaze, but her lips curved in something almost fond.
"You two go really well together," she commented casually, refilling her own teacup.
Marin nearly choked.
"G-go well together?! L-like… as cosplay partners, right?!"
"Of course," Iyo answered with a smile so calm it was impossible to tell if she was teasing.
Isagi groaned, half-embarrassed. "Mom…"
"What?" Iyo asked innocently. "I'm only stating the truth. You work well together."
Marin laughed nervously, lifting her cup to hide the blush creeping up her neck. "Hehe… yeah… we get along pretty well."
The silence that followed was light, comfortable—the kind that settles when words aren't needed anymore. Outside, night had fully fallen while they kept talking without hurry.
The conversation gradually turned into a proper production meeting. Iyo, who until then had played the calm hostess, naturally slipped into the role of seasoned seamstress, showing technical knowledge even Marin hadn't expected.
With a small notepad in hand, she began dissecting every detail of the project Marin had proposed—from base fabrics to the stitching needed for the most delicate parts. Her clinical gaze moved precisely between the girl's excitement and Isagi's practical comments.
"For that vinyl-like material you mentioned…" Iyo explained, jotting something down, "the ideal would be a matte satin or taffeta base. That way the drape isn't heavy and the light reflection looks better in photos. The problem is that heat-activated glue can cause wrinkling, so it's better to reinforce the inner seams by hand."
Marin listened intently, completely captivated, mentally filing away every tip. It was rare to find someone outside the cosplay circle who understood both aesthetics and technique—and Iyo spoke with the authority of someone who'd wrestled difficult fabrics before.
Isagi, who had started out just watching, ended up joining in too. He suggested small mobility adjustments, pointing out that Marin moved a lot at events and comfort should come before finish. Iyo agreed and quickly adjusted the sketch.
The discussion flowed lightly but intensely. Marin and Iyo bounced ideas about linings, accessories, layering, and the best way to hide a zipper without ruining the design. Marin, buzzing with excitement, talked about game references and how she wanted every detail to scream the character's personality. Iyo absorbed it all and turned the ideas into practical solutions—sketching, noting, adjusting proportions with her pencil.
At one point they even started debating lighting; Marin pulled out her phone to show old con photos, pointing out what worked and what didn't.
Between suggestions, laughter, and small creative disagreements, time slipped away almost unnoticed. The teacups had been empty for ages, and the wall clock showed nearly an hour had passed.
Finally Iyo closed the notepad and leaned back, satisfied.
"Alright, I have all the measurements and the full project written down," she said serenely, the finished piece already clear in her mind. "If everything goes smoothly, the costume should be ready in a week."
Marin nearly jumped off the couch with excitement, eyes shining with contagious joy. "Seriously?! One week?! That's incredible!"
Iyo smiled at the girl's enthusiasm and added playfully, "Anyway, I think we've got everything set. Marin-chan, you were an excellent assistant…"
"No way!" Marin waved her hands, beaming. "I learned so much from you today, Iyo-san! I didn't even know vinyl could wrinkle with heat—that changes everything!"
Iyo let out a light laugh that made the whole room feel warmer. "You've got real talent, Marin-chan. With that kind of passion and attention to detail, you'll go far in this hobby."
Marin's smile lit up her entire face—pure, glowing joy and pride. It was impossible not to catch a little of it.
"But," Iyo continued, glancing discreetly at the clock, "it's getting late. You don't want your parents worrying, right? It's almost 9:30."
Marin's eyes widened.
"Whoa, really?! Time flew!" She checked her phone, let out a sheepish laugh. "Guess I got too excited… sorry!"
"No need to apologize," Iyo said gently, her expression softening even more. "Still, Marin-chan, if your place is far, I'd rather you spent the night. It's dark, and… well, I don't like the idea of such a pretty girl walking home alone at this hour."
Marin blinked, surprised by the offer, then smiled shyly, a faint blush rising. "Aww, thank you, Iyo-san, but I'm fine! I literally live one block away—you can see my building from the living-room window!" She pointed casually outside, where apartment lights twinkled in the distance. "So it's totally safe!"
Isagi, who had been watching quietly, stood up and grabbed his jacket from the chair. "Even so, Mom, I'll walk her. It's quick, but… better safe."
Iyo looked at him with a small, proud smile—the silent "that's my boy" kind.
"Of course, dear. That puts my mind at ease."
Marin opened her mouth to protest, but Isagi's decisive tone stopped her.
"Okay, fine…" she laughed softly. "I feel safe with you, Isagi! If anyone shows up you can just pull legendary manga martial-arts moves and defeat them!"
Isagi raised an eyebrow, half-amused. "No promises."
The two got up while Marin grabbed her backpack.
Iyo walked them to the door.
Marin slipped on her shoes, fixed her hair, and turned to the older woman with a sweet smile. "Thank you for the tea, the tips, and everything, Iyo-san! It was really fun talking with you."
"The pleasure was all mine, Marin-chan," Iyo replied calmly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Come back anytime, okay? And if you ever need help with a costume… you know where to find me."
"Will do!"
Isagi opened the door, and cool night air rushed in. Streetlights painted the sidewalk yellow, and the distant sound of a passing train gave the night a calm, ordinary feeling—the kind of quiet that made the whole whirlwind day feel a little more real.
"Night, Mom. See you later!"
"Good night, sweetheart. Good night, Marin-chan."
"Night!" Marin chirped, waving as the door closed softly behind them.
The two quickly started down the short path toward Marin's building…
_______________________
(A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your patience these past few days — I ended up getting sick and needed some time to recover. Because of that, I couldn't post new chapters, and even the Patreon updates were temporarily paused.
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