“Uh… that game, who won?” My voice fluttered like a leaf in a light wind, shy heat rising like dawn under my skin.

“Relax. You won. Ruyu doesn’t cheat.” She tapped my head, a dragonfly-light touch, and smiled like clear spring water. “Still, I didn’t expect you to find Ruyu. I got careless.”

“Heh, pure luck.” I breathed out, relief flowing like cool rain, even knowing her aura had spilled like incense smoke and given her away. The third layer’s trial finally felt like a storm passed.

“Then please send me to the fourth layer, quick.” Hope flickered like a lantern, steady but small.

“Possible.” Her gaze sharpened like a needle glinting. Ruyu pointed at me. “Amemiya, can you stand?”

“I’ll try… uh!” I pushed up, a sapling without roots. I could stand, but my body was a hollow reed—I couldn’t move, not even a step.

“See?” She sighed, the sound soft as wind through grass. “Ruyu doesn’t know how you found Ruyu, but it must’ve strained your body like an overdrawn bow. Rest here, adjust your state, then go.”

“…You’re right. Sorry to trouble you again.” The words fell like pebbles into a pond, ripples of guilt spreading.

“No need to be so formal. You and Ruyu are friends, aren’t we?” She puffed her cheeks, and her rabbit ears shook like big leaves in summer rain—too cute, like sugar on the tongue.

“You’re right. Then I’ll rely on you, Ruyu.” I blinked, then smiled, a small flame catching.

“That’s more like it. All right—spatial transfer!” Space twisted like water under a breeze, and when the ripple stilled, I was back in Ruyu’s room, a quiet cove.

“Rest well. Ruyu will make food.” Her voice warmed like kitchen light at dusk.

“Okay. Thanks.” Gratitude settled in my chest like warm tea on a cold night.

“Don’t be so polite! Ruyu will be right back!” She slipped through the door, a swift shadow, leaving me alone in the hush.

“Thank you…” I whispered to her fading silhouette, a thread of sound in the still air. I lay on her bed, my body heavy as wet canvas. Her scent drifted up, fresh as morning dew—my heartbeat stumbled, embarrassed, like a startled sparrow. But even raising a finger felt like lifting a stone, and a dull ache pulsed like far thunder behind my eyes, so I stayed put.

Funny, I’ve always cooked for others, a rhythm like stirring the moon into a pot. On the third layer, someone else—Ruyu—was cooking for me. New, and sweet as first snow.

I wandered through stray thoughts and fell asleep fast, fatigue closing over me like night tide. My mind blurred, and hunger gnawed till chest met back like two doors kissing.

Time passed like clouds drifting. I woke to fragrance, a warm current tugging me from sleep like a gentle tide.

“Amemiya, finally awake. Ruyu was worrying the dishes would go cold.” Her tone fluttered like a sparrow at the window, half fret, half smile.

The table beside me was bright with dishes, steam coiling like banners, aroma rich enough to make a river flow in my mouth.

“You could’ve just woken me.” My words stumbled, a sleepy bear blinking at light.

“Ruyu couldn’t bear it. Your sleeping face was too cute.” Her eyes curved, moon-slice soft, teasing like spring wind.

“Uh…” Heat rushed up, a blush blooming like camellias. I fought to sit, then slid off the bed—my vision swayed like a boat, and I nearly fell. Ruyu caught me, steady as a rooted tree.

“Don’t move. Let Ruyu feed you.” Her tone held a gentle scold, like rain tapping a drum.

“Uu… it’s embarrassing.” Shame fluttered like a moth, soft wings frantic.

“Can you eat by yourself like this?” Her gaze was a calm lake, still but deep.

“…No.” The admission dropped like a seed.

“Then be good. Sit, and let Ruyu feed you.” She lifted me back onto the bed, hands light as silk, ready to pull the quilt up.

“Eh?! Wait!” Panic flared like a startled cat. “I haven’t bathed! I’ll dirty your quilt… sorry, I even fell asleep in your bed. I’m really sorry!”

“If you say that again, Ruyu will get angry.” Her cheeks puffed, thundercloud-small but real.

“…Sorry.” The word shrank, a leaf in rain.

“Angry!” She stamped lightly, a soft thud, like a rabbit foot in dry grass.

“…O-okay, I’m starving! Please feed me!” My stomach cried like a fox at night, the plea tumbling out.

“That’s right. Here, have some soup. Ah—” Her spoon lifted like a silver crescent, steam a gentle veil.

“Ah…” I opened my mouth, mortification and sweetness tangling like vines. Her care wrapped around me, shy joy prickling like sun through leaves.

After eating my fill, strength pooled back like water in a well. I asked Ruyu for clothes so I could bathe. For some reason, she only gave me a mascot suit, plush as a cloud. Well, better than nothing. And Ruyu’s handwork was top-notch, stitches neat as rice rows; wearing it felt cozy, like being hugged by warm velvet.

Wanting to repay her care, I didn’t rush to the fourth layer after bathing. I stayed and kept her company, at least for today, time soft as honey.

Good hours slip fast, like fish under moonlight. Before long it was past eleven, and we stood outside her home, night cool as ink.

“Ruyu hates to see you go. We only just became friends.” Her reluctance hung like mist, and she opened the passage slowly, as if unrolling a scroll she loved too much.

“Ahahaha…” My laugh was thin, a paper kite in low wind, awkward and light.

Minutes ticked by like drops from an eave, and the passage to the fourth layer unfurled completely, glowing like a river cut through dark.

“Amemiya, you can go now. Safe journey.” She stepped in and hugged me, warmth flowing like a hearth-fire, reluctant as autumn leaves.

“Thank you for everything, Ruyu. But before that…” Shame rose again, a peach flush. I dropped my head and toyed with a few strands on my shoulder, fingers threading like rain through grass. “Could you grant me one request?”

“A request? If Ruyu can do it, say it.” Her eyes shone like clear stars, open and kind.

“Then… could I touch your rabbit ears?” The wish had sat in my chest like a hidden seed since we met, soft and stubborn.

“Eh?! You want to touch Ruyu’s ears?! Uuu…” She reddened in a rush, a sunrise flooding the hills, fidgeting like a shy fawn. At last she braced herself, face set like a brave little soldier. “O-okay… Ruyu will let you touch her most precious ears. First time being touched… so embarrassing…”

“Then I’m touching.” Gulp. I swallowed, a small stone dropping. I reached for her ears, trembling lightly like willow tips, and brushed them.

“!!!” The sensation bloomed luxurious, like cloud-foam spilling across my palm. Soft and warm, a tickle and a comfort, spring and hearth together—my fingers tightened, a pinch from a heart too dazzled.

“Ah—mm…” Her sound slipped out, breathy as wind through silk, and my pulse kicked, a foal bolting.

I couldn’t keep going. If I did, my composure would shred like paper in rain. Cute things are my weakness, a trap baited with sunlight.

“Thanks for the treat!” I snatched my hand back, the motion quick as a sparrow’s wing, and before Ruyu could recover, I stepped into the passage, the glow folding around me like moonlight.

I ran, because my face was a storm of blushes, and I had no idea what expression to wear next.

So, I fled.