Mai probably felt Yukieda had learned her lesson well enough.

A strange expression hung on Mai’s face. He looked at Yukieda with a half-smile.

“You... you can still laugh at a time like this?”

Even though she knew she was the one in the wrong, Yukieda still couldn’t help feeling annoyed.

She shot Mai a vicious glare and turned to flee the room. Right then, Mai grabbed her wrist.

Maybe he used a little too much force. Or maybe Yukieda didn’t resist much. Rather, she just wasn’t on guard.

Mai flung Yukieda onto his bed.

Yukieda clutched the blanket in terror.

“What? You want round two?”

Of course that wasn’t it at all!

Under Yukieda’s wary gaze, Mai carefully explained the misunderstanding between them.

“So you said I forced you!” Yukieda demanded angrily.

“Oh... so you meant making you drink...” Yukieda scratched her head awkwardly.

“And you also said you wiped me off!?” Yukieda’s expression changed in an instant.

“Oh... so you meant the spilled alcohol on me...” Yukieda blinked at Mai, then suddenly calmed down. She muttered to herself, “I thought you meant wiping my bu... butt.” Her voice got quieter and quieter. For some reason, she thought of salad dressing inside a sandwich.

“What did you say?” Mai seemed not to have heard clearly.

“N-Nothing, nothing.” Yukieda shook her head like a rattle drum.

Very soon, Yukieda’s golden eyes shifted, and she thought of another crucial “piece of evidence.”

“Then how do you explain that weird pain? I feel like... here.” Yukieda pointed between her legs. “It really hurts, and there was blood too!”

Mai looked at his flustered partner and explained seriously.

“Feel carefully. It’s actually your thigh that hurts, not between your legs, right?”

“Huh?” Yukieda focused and checked. “I think you’re right. What the heck happened, then!?”

A strange smile rose in Mai’s heart, but his face didn’t change.

Of course he knew what happened. He was the one who’d pinched her hard. He’d even twisted that patch of delicate skin a little, worried the pain would fade too fast.

“You probably drank too much and banged your leg on the table.”

That was Mai’s explanation.

That sounded so stupid... Yukieda pictured the scene Mai described and felt so embarrassed she wanted to crawl into a crack in the ground.

But it still wasn’t over.

“Right! The blood! How do you explain the bloodstain!?”

“Blood?”

Mai sounded puzzled.

The bloodstain had been his doing too, but he decided to play dumb.

“Yeah, the bloodstain.”

“I’m not really sure about that.”

“What? How can you not be sure?” Yukieda’s voice turned anxious.

At that moment, Yukieda was still hugging the blanket. After hearing Mai say he didn’t know, she spread her legs and lifted her skirt.

“Look, the bloodstain is right here.”

To be fair, Mai had planned to sleep, so he’d drawn all the curtains in the room. He just hadn’t done it carefully, and one corner was left open.

So a beam of sunlight slipped through that one gap. It fell perfectly across the place Yukieda wanted to show him, covering that quiet, uncovered part of the girl.

But the beam could only hide so much.

For some reason, Mai thought of the izakaya. Then he thought of one ingredient there, something called clam.

He couldn’t stop it.

He really couldn’t control his expression anymore. Mai felt a hot stream spill from his nose.

No matter what, he was still a normal young man. There was no way he could feel nothing.

The one even more embarrassed than him was Yukieda. The moment she realized what she’d just done, she reacted like she’d been electrocuted. Bang—she slammed Mai’s room door shut and bolted off like a mouse chased by a cat.

Inside the room, Mai found some tissues and stuffed them into his nostrils. Speaking through a muffled voice, he said,

“I don’t know what’s up with that bloodstain either! But you can check it yourself!”

“Check? Check what?”

Hearing Mai’s voice from inside the room, Yukieda didn’t even know whether she should cover her face. She hopped to the bathroom mirror like a rabbit, spread herself open, and reached a finger in to probe. Very quickly, she felt a layer blocking her.

Of course she knew what that was.

It was proof of her purity.

How did I only remember that now?

If I’d remembered sooner, wouldn’t all this embarrassing stuff have never happened?

Regret. Pure regret.

Mostly, her head had just gone blank in the moment. No one could stay calm in that kind of situation, right?

Thinking of how mortifying she’d just been, Yukieda only felt her cheeks grow redder and hotter. Her whole body buzzed with restless energy she couldn’t vent.

For the first time ever, the cleanliness-loving Yukieda didn’t take a bath. She dove straight into her blanket.

Wrapped up in it, she tossed and turned. Then suddenly she sat up and started banging her head against the wall like crazy.

“Die! Die! Die! I’m gonna die!”

Hearing the commotion next door, Mai wondered if maybe this joke had gone a little too far.

That day, Mai didn’t see Yukieda again in the apartment.

Over the next few days, Yukieda didn’t speak to Mai at all.

Even Mari and Shizuku could tell something was wrong between them. But no matter how they asked, neither of them would answer.

That left both Shizuku and Mari deeply worried.

Mai also felt he’d gone too far. No matter how unusual Yukieda’s past identity had been, right now, she looked like nothing but a cute girl.

No—even if it had been a guy, it still would’ve been humiliating. Yukieda probably thought of him as one of the bros. Then after drinking with a bro once, she suddenly found her butt vaguely aching.

Looks like I still need to find a chance to apologize.

But Yukieda simply ignored him.

What was he supposed to do?

Mai could only wait, waiting for an opportunity.

On the way to school, Shizuku, stuck in the middle, talked with Yukieda for a while, then turned and talked with Mai for a while, trying not to leave either one out.

Then she let out a rather helpless sigh.

“What even happened between you two?”

She’d already asked that question who knew how many times.

Yukieda gave a cold snort and pulled Shizuku’s daughter ahead with her, leaving only Shizuku to turn back and give Mai an apologetic smile.

Mai waved helplessly.

At noon, with Shizuku and Mari deliberately playing matchmaker, Yukieda was called up to the rooftop by Shizuku.

This was the chance Mai had specifically asked Shizuku to create.

“I don’t know what happened, but family shouldn’t have rifts between them, okay?”

Shizuku patted Mai on the shoulder, then dragged Mari away because they “had something to do.”

Mari gave Mai a little gesture of encouragement.

He took a deep breath.

Standing on the rooftop, Mai looked down at the noisy crowd on the field below. For some reason, he felt nervous.

Soon, he heard it—the distinct tap-tap of dress shoes on the stairs.

She’s here.

Those two words flashed through Mai’s mind.

Yukieda was a little confused. Shizuku had said she had something important to tell her, and that it had to be on the rooftop.

What could it possibly be...?

Then Yukieda saw the figure on the rooftop, and in an instant, she understood.

Mai, who had clearly been waiting for a long time, started walking toward Yukieda with heavy steps.

For some reason, Yukieda felt an overwhelming pressure from him. She even had the faint urge to step back.

Yes, Mai wasn’t the only one nervous. Yukieda was too.

The moment she saw Mai’s cool, beautiful face, her brain started running wild again.

At this rate, every sleepless night from now on would probably replay those scenes over and over in her head.

Yukieda forced herself to calm down. If she ran now, wouldn’t that be the same as admitting she’d lost?

The heavy atmosphere between them felt almost like a confession.

Actually, Mai had misunderstood. He thought Yukieda was angry at him, but that wasn’t really it. Yukieda was just shy. Purely shy. So shy she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him.

After all, he’d seen everything.

“I’m sorry! I’m really, truly sorry, Yukieda!”

Mai’s movement and voice were both absurdly grand, like a spokesperson at a press conference apologizing to the public.

He stayed bent over, as if he wouldn’t stand up unless Yukieda forgave him.

Absentmindedly twirling a strand of her snow-white hair around her finger, Yukieda let her gaze drift toward the clouds in the sky.

She let out a breath of relief.

And for some reason, she also felt a little unwilling.

“That’s it? Just words?”

The forgiveness she meant to give came out as a provocation instead. Yukieda didn’t know why it turned out like that. In truth, she regretted it the moment she said it. The person apologizing had worked up a lot of courage. What if this really shattered their relationship for good?

Mai looked at Yukieda in silence, at the beautiful silver-haired girl before him.

Then he walked straight past her, heading behind her.

They brushed shoulders, as if their relationship would become parallel lines from here on, never crossing again.

Yukieda’s eyes widened. Panic spread through her chest, and she instinctively tried to stop him.

“Wai—”

Creak. Mai shut the rooftop door.

The tension in Yukieda’s heart suddenly eased. She’d thought Mai had gotten angry and was about to leave. Apparently that wasn’t it.

Then Mai pushed Yukieda into the corner and planted one hand against the wall behind her.

“What are you trying to do?”

Yukieda turned her face aside on purpose, refusing to look at him, exposing her slender, graceful neck.

“Yukieda’s right. Just saying sorry isn’t sincere enough. Since I saw that part of Yukieda, I’ll let Yukieda see mine too.”

With that, Mai untied his skirt. It dropped to the floor with a swish, revealing the safety shorts underneath.

He reached down, about to pull them lower.

At that moment, Yukieda grabbed his arm.

With complete sincerity, she said, “I’ve felt your sincerity. Please stop.”

Her voice was soft and gentle, almost pleading.

Mai tried to resist a little, but Yukieda’s grip was firm. He couldn’t move at all.

What was he supposed to say now?

Mai was desperate to ease the tension between them.

Then he suddenly remembered: praise. If you don’t know what to say, just praise the other person without thinking.

“Yukieda’s... there is really pretty. Very pink, and very moist.”

Yukieda lifted her face high, frozen for a moment. Only then did she realize what Mai meant.

She tilted her head in confusion. Was this guy really here to apologize?

Then Yukieda remembered the first time she met Mai.

She wasn’t really sure whether this was just how young people apologized these days.

She hesitated for a moment.

“Y-Your thing isn’t bad either.”

—

That afternoon, both Shizuku and Mari noticed how red Mai and Yukieda’s faces were.

Sometimes their eyes would meet, only to dart away again at once.

They had no idea what the two of them had said, but their relationship had definitely improved.

Mari couldn’t help imagining something straight out of a manga.

“They must’ve had a huge fight, then realized the other person had their own reasons and troubles, and then forgave each other.”

Shizuku nodded in deep agreement.