After dinner, Ayumu didn’t head straight to his room to study as usual. Instead, he made an exception and joined his mother Eina and their guest Hina to watch TV for a while.
“The bathwater’s ready, Hina. You go first,” Eina said.
As the guest, it was only proper for Hina to bathe first. In most Japanese households, the bathwater is shared nightly—after one person soaks, the next follows—so the first bather enjoys clean, warm water. Unaware of the Genyas’ routine, Hina readily agreed. Only after retrieving her change of clothes from her suitcase and stepping into the bathroom did she see the tub brimming with steaming water.
A flicker of panic struck her. Was it really okay for her, a girl, to bathe first when Ayumu—a boy—would use the same water afterward? Though Japanese custom required washing thoroughly before entering the tub, the thought of her “tainted” water enveloping Ayumu’s body sent a flush of shame through her… tangled with a faint, unexpected thrill.
“Hina, just leave your dirty clothes in the red basin. I’ll wash them tomorrow. Don’t be shy—I’d be upset if you insisted.”
Eina’s voice drifted through the door as Hina stood dazed. She’d planned to wash her own clothes, but with the tub full and warm, delaying would cool the water—making her seem both overly reserved and selfish. And Eina’s tone made it clear: refusing would disappoint her. So Hina let go of the idea. Still, the thought of her undergarments washing alongside Ayumu’s sent her mind spiraling. Shame burned hot… yet beneath it, a quiet anticipation stirred. No resistance at all.
*What’s wrong with me?*
Lately, Ayumu kept slipping into her thoughts, unsettling her heart.
…
Hina emerged shortly after entering. Ayumu guessed she’d kept her soak brief, not wanting to cool the water for others. Her damp hair clung to her shoulders; her already-long bangs, soaked and plastered to her forehead, now brushed her lips—making their length impossible to ignore.
“Hina, bangs that long must block your view. Why not trim them sometime?” Eina added, her tone warm with gentle elder concern.
Ayumu had wanted to say the same thing before. But since they were barely more than acquaintances, he’d held back, fearing it might seem intrusive. He’d only sighed inwardly.
“Cut… my hair…?” Hina murmured hesitantly.
She resisted the idea—her bangs were a shield against eye contact. But this was Ayumu’s mother speaking. She couldn’t dismiss it lightly; it might affect Eina’s impression of her.
“Hina, I promise you’ll look even cuter with shorter hair—boys won’t be able to look away. Don’t believe me? Ask Little Ayumu.”
Wise with age, Eina instantly sensed Hina’s hesitation. Without knowing why, she smoothly pulled Ayumu into the moment to ease her worries.
“Mm. I think so too,” Ayumu replied honestly. He’d glimpsed Hina’s clear, bright eyes beneath those thick bangs before. Every time, his chest tightened.
“Then I’ll get it cut tomorrow!” Hina declared, eyes sparkling.
Ayumu blinked in surprise. *She agreed that easily? Must be for Mom’s sake.*
“Ayumu, your turn to bathe,” Eina urged.
“Mm.”
Normally, Ayumu bathed first. Using water someone else had soaked in—even his mother, though only in name—felt off to him. Eina didn’t know; she simply wanted the best for her child. But with Hina as a guest today, Ayumu had already resigned himself to skipping the bath.
Hina watched Ayumu step into the bathroom and close the door. Her heart surged like storm waves. He was about to soak in the very water she’d “contaminated.” A guilty thrill coiled inside her—almost like stealing his innocence. And her underwear… after wavering again and again, she hadn’t hidden it beneath her outer clothes. She’d placed it deliberately where he’d see it.
*He really is bathing right after me… Did I just pull off another little mischief?*
He’d definitely spot it when tossing his clothes into the basin.
*Will Ayumu-kun… pick it up? Or… sniff it?*
The thought alone overwhelmed her. Heat flooded her cheeks and ears. A warm trickle threatened at her nose.
…
As Ayumu finished undressing and reached for the red laundry basin, his gaze landed on a small triangular undergarment. Pale yellow, simple, no lace or frills. Yet—freshly removed—it almost seemed to steam.
Honestly, a girl’s recently worn underwear was undeniably alluring. To claim he felt no curiosity would be a lie. But he wasn’t so bold—or so careless—as to examine it. Hina had trusted him enough to stay here, to “accidentally” leave it visible. Ayumu would never betray that trust, not even in secret.
“Sigh… Mizuno really is careless,” he muttered softly.
