My eyes fluttered open to the familiar, pale light of morning.
The first thing I registered was the texture of the pillow beneath my cheek.
It was my own, stuffed with fragrant cedar shavings, just the way I liked it.
Good.
I hadn't accidentally migrated to Jun's futon in the middle of the night again, a shameful habit that had begun the moment he moved in. It seemed the Silent Princess had developed the sleepwalking instincts of a spoiled pet.
But then, a low, contented hum vibrated right against my back, chasing away the remnants of sleep.
I froze.
If I was in my bed, what was this immense, radiating warmth wrapped around me?
Slowly, tentatively, I turned my head.
There he was.
Jun, who was supposed to be in his futon on the floor beside me, had somehow managed to get himself onto my single bed.
He was holding me with a hungry, desperate claim.
He had secured me in a flawless, inescapable embrace, his body conforming to the curve of my back from my shoulder blades all the way down to my calves.
This is too close.
My face instantly went hot. It wasn't just the warmth; it was the sheer, terrifying coverage. Every inch of me was claimed.
Our backs, hips, and legs were touching, creating a friction that was both comforting and utterly dangerous. His breath, slow and even, stirred the small hairs at the back of my neck.
It was too intimate, too unguarded, and definitely too much for a normal high school morning.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to initiate the intricate process of escape.
I needed to extract myself before he woke up and started the inevitable teasing about his "beautiful, clingy wife."
I tried to ease my hips forward, praying for a silent retreat.
Jun's low, sleepy groan immediately stopped me.
His right hand, resting innocently beneath my stomach, instinctively tightened, pulling me back against his chest.
But in doing so, his other hand—the one that had been draped lazily across my waist and was already dangerously low—shifted, moving lower still.
His fingers brushed perilously close to the forbidden territory.
A startled gasp caught in my throat.
Every nerve ending in my body flared to life.
A terrifying, beautiful moment of willful surrender and deep, mortifying embarrassment all at once.
If I moved even an inch, I might brush against something I wasn't ready to acknowledge.
You absolute pervert! Even when you're asleep!
I had no choice.
"Jun," I whispered, keeping my voice low and muffled.
He only tightened his hold, nuzzling the back of his head into my hair.
"Five more minutes, Yui... "
My cheeks were burning.
"Wake up, you pervert! We are going to be late for your first day!" I hissed, finally rolling over as much as the confined space would allow.
He didn't budge.
I ended the problem the way all desperate heroines must:
By grabbing the top of his ear and pulling.
"Ow! Ow! I'm up! I surrender!" Jun yelped, finally releasing me as he scrambled upright, rubbing his abused ear.
*
A short while later, the scent of expensive shampoo and the low, steady hum of the blow dryer replaced the panicked heat of my embarrassment.
I sat on a small stool in front of the full-length mirror, my uniform skirt perfectly pleated.
Jun stood behind me, diligently running the hot air over my freshly washed hair.
He was focused, his expression almost impossibly serious.
His fingers, large and warm, methodically worked through the thick strands, ensuring the hair was completely dry, perfectly soft.
This wasn't new. He had done this countless times in the past, ever since he learned I was terrible at drying my own hair.
But for me, it had been a hiatus of two years.
Seeing his focused profile in the mirror, watching the careful, loving choreography of his hands, made a deep, profound ache surface in my chest.
He's here. He's actually here, and this is our morning.
I wanted to turn back, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss that perfectly serious face until he laughed.
It was this simple, boring routine that I had almost died waiting for.
"Are you still mad about my advanced cuddling technique?" Jun murmured, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. He flashed a teasing grin.
"I told you, you're the one who pulled me up. You said you were having a bad dream or something."
I immediately focused on the floor, feeling the heat surge back into my neck.
I might or might not have a faint, blurry memory of reaching out in the dark, desperate for a Jun-shaped blanket.
"That's not the point!" I snapped, hiding my flushed face.
"Hmm? So, what is the point? That you secretly love my advanced cuddling?"
"Enough of this!" I retorted, feeling my control slip.
I spun around, grabbing his cheeks with both hands, squeezing them until his lips pouted like a goldfish.
"I don't want to hear it anymore!"
Jun let out a muffled, injured sound.
"S-sorry, sorry! No more talking about my advanced technique! I promise!"
I let go, but not before giving his cheek a final, corrective pinch.
"Hurry up and dry my hair, idiot. We'll be late."
As I turned back to the mirror, I heard his voice, softer now, commenting almost to himself as he picked up the blow dryer again.
"I really love your hair, Yui."
My heart did a silly little flutter. The sudden earnestness is a dirty trick. I couldn't help it. I let out a small sound, barely audible, as a genuine, unguarded smile broke across my face.
"Baka."
A few minutes later, I grabbed the bento boxes—one for him, one for me—from the counter.
We met at the entrance, where Jun was putting on his shoes.
His new school uniform wouldn't arrive until tomorrow.
So, for his first day back in two years, Idiot-kun had to settle for his old, outstandingly unfashionable black tracksuit.
As he stood up, I reached out and adjusted the lapel of the tracksuit jacket, my fingers lingering on the stiff collar, smoothing a stray strand of his newly trimmed hair.
"Your first day, and you have to wear this," I sighed, managing a small, affectionate tease. "You're going to be even more of a spectacle than usual. I hope you're ready for the stares."
He looked down at me.
His lips curved into that old, effortless smile—the one that had always made the world feel perfectly simple and perfectly bright.
The smile I had fallen for. The smile I had waited for.
Without a word, Jun reached out, his warm, large hand closing over mine. His grip was instant and absolute. I will never let go.
With a final, shared nod, we called out to my mother who was already in the kitchen, our voices blending into one single, perfect declaration:
"I'm leaving!"
We walked out the door, hand-in-hand, stepping into the beautiful, noisy reality of the world we had finally reclaimed.