After dinner, Shiratori Seiya watched Shione bend down to gather the dishes and chopsticks, her movements graceful and unhurried. He quickly stood up and pressed his fingers gently against her fair wrist.
Hōjō Shione looked at him with a hint of confusion in her eyes and asked softly, "What's wrong...?"
Meeting the girl's gaze, Shiratori Seiya's eyes swept over her snowy neck, finally resting on the delicate curve of her earlobe as he explained, "Today's meal was cooked by Shione, so I'll do the dishes."
Hōjō Shione's eyes paused. Her cherry lips parted slightly, and a helpless smile appeared on her face. "Seiya, you... seem to have misunderstood something."
"Cooking for Seiya is, in itself, a happy thing for me. I don't feel tired at all."
She paused, then lowered her gaze, her eyes darkening as she added softly, "Just let me do it. I'll be leaving in a while, and then I won't have the chance to do these things..."
Hearing this, Shiratori Seiya hesitated for a moment and released Hōjō Shione's hand. He sat back in his chair, silently watching her busy herself—the way her fingers moved with practiced ease, the way she hummed a faint, tuneless melody under her breath. His mind involuntarily wandered, wondering how he could make her a little happier.
But after much thought, it seemed that besides the option of marrying her, everything else was merely scratching an itch from outside the boot—temporary relief that never reached the source of the ache. If he couldn't cure the root cause for now, he could only learn from Western medicine and treat the symptoms first.
To prevent Shione from doing anything irrational again, Shiratori Seiya decided to satisfy her to the maximum extent possible—while still considering Saori and Mio. It was a delicate balancing act, one that required constant vigilance. Until he could restart her cultivation plan...
"What are you thinking about? Why aren't you reading?"
As Shiratori Seiya was lost in thought, Hōjō Shione wiped her slender hands with a kitchen paper towel and approached him, a smile playing on her lips.
"Nothing. Just thinking randomly."
To be honest, when a man and a woman are alone together, if one person's feelings are not pure, the other will feel the weight of that unspoken tension. The reason for this discomfort was an atmosphere called ambiguity—spreading between them like smoke, thick and suffocating.
Putting down the book in his hand, Shiratori Seiya raised his gaze to look at Hōjō Shione. Despite her exquisitely applied makeup, under the light, a closer look still revealed faint dark circles around her eyes. The clear black-and-white irises he remembered now had several streaks of crimson blood threading through them, like cracks in porcelain.
His lips moved. "Shione, have you been taking your medicine on time recently?"
Hōjō Shione paused for two seconds, seemingly not expecting him to ask that. She pursed her lips, then lowered her head and pulled a small white pill bottle from her pocket. She smiled slightly at Shiratori Seiya.
"Of course. I've been taking my medicine on time. After all, I also want to start working normally sooner." Her voice dropped. "It's just that, sleeping alone recently, I still haven't been sleeping very well..."
She paused, then reached for the wooden box she had placed on the table earlier. With a soft click, she took out two incense sticks from inside and waved them in front of Shiratori Seiya.
"So I also got a set for myself. But I haven't tried them yet, so I don't know how effective they are..."
Then she added, "Anyway, we have time now. Why don't we try out the effect of this incense together?"
"Mm."
Hearing her say this, Shiratori Seiya reached out and took the two incense sticks. He found a lighter in the drawer and lit them.
As two points of red light flickered to life, a faint gray wisp spiraled into the air. Contrary to his expectation, these two incense sticks burned extremely slowly—but the sandalwood scent was by no means faint. The elegant aroma was layered with the sacred fragrance of temple incense, and upon closer inspection, there was also a subtle sweetness lingering beneath, like honey dissolving into warm tea.
They were indeed good incense sticks. Probably not cheap.
With the calming incense lit, Hōjō Shione had nothing to do and didn't want to turn on the TV, claiming she was worried about disturbing Shiratori Seiya's reading. So she also picked up a photography book and started reading, seemingly to pass the time.
About half an hour passed. Only half of the two chopstick-thick incense sticks remained.
Perhaps the incense did have some effect, or perhaps he was simply too tired these past two days—but Shiratori Seiya found himself unconsciously struggling to keep his eyes open. His lids grew heavy, the words on the page blurring into meaningless shapes.
With a soft thud, he closed his book. He rubbed his eyes and yawned silently, a wave of drowsiness washing over him like a gentle tide.
Hearing the sudden sound, Hōjō Shione lifted her eyelids. A blush had spread across her originally fair face, and her eyes were filled with a misty haze. Her chest rose and fell with slightly quicker breaths, the rhythm betraying her carefully maintained composure.
Feeling her heartbeat gradually quicken, she swallowed, licked her lips, and asked softly, "Seiya, are you sleepy?"
Hōjō Shione seemed to have tried her best to make her voice sound normal. But upon closer listening, it still trembled slightly—like a leaf caught in an unfelt breeze.
Shiratori Seiya didn't notice. He felt a slight warmth blooming in his chest, but his consciousness was gradually blurring at the edges. He replied casually, "Mm, a little. Maybe I've been too tired these past two days."
Saying this, he stood up and walked towards the bedroom, waving his hand at Hōjō Shione. "That's enough for today, Shione. You should go back and rest early too."
Hōjō Shione bit her lip, staring at his back with a faint, unreadable gaze. "Okay. I'll go back now. See you tomorrow, Seiya."
"See you tomorrow."
"..."
Click.
Hōjō Shione stood up, turned off the lights in the room, then walked in the darkness to the door and opened it.
With a soft clang, the door closed.
But she didn't leave.
She squatted by the door, holding her knees with both hands, and waited in the silence. The seconds stretched into minutes, the darkness wrapping around her like a shroud. She counted the beats of her own heart, steadying herself.
About ten minutes passed before she stood up and slowly walked toward Shiratori Seiya's bedroom.
An unbearable heat emanated from her chest. The cool moonlight streaming through the window cast faint blushes across her skin, painting her in silver and shadow. With delicate hands, she unfastened the buttons of her dress. The dark gray skirt fell to the floor with a barely audible rustle, exposing her fair, slender legs to the cool night air.
Hōjō Shione knelt by the bed, her rosy-white feet suspended in mid-air. She looked at the young man in front of her—his peaceful sleeping face, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. She took his hand and placed it on her face, then traced it slowly over her neck, her collarbone, her chest...
Feeling the warmth of his fingertips against her skin, her breathing grew increasingly rapid. Hot breaths escaped her cherry lips, misting the air between them.
She slowly leaned down, her graceful body pressing against his chest. The warmth of him seeped through the thin fabric of her remaining clothes, spreading through her like fire.
Her fingertips brushed his eyebrows. Her delicate nose gently grazed his face. Her slender fingers intertwined with his, and her heart felt as if it had become moist—soft and aching and full.
Their lips were barely a finger's width apart.
She gently licked his lips, the barest touch. Just as she leaned in to press her mouth against his—
Shiratori Seiya frowned.
Seeing his sudden movement, Hōjō Shione's body stiffened. She instinctively held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain it would wake him.
But Shiratori Seiya raised his arm and embraced her slender, jade-like shoulders. His lips moved, seemingly mumbling something in his sleep.
Hōjō Shione didn't hear clearly at first. She leaned closer, putting her ear to his mouth—
And heard distinctly.
"Saori..."
The young man's words were like a whip covered in thorns, lashing fiercely at her heart. A sharp pain sliced through her chest, followed by a sudden emptiness that tore open inside her.
Hōjō Shione instantly sobered up. Her eyes burned, her vision blurring. Tears overflowed from her eyes and fell onto his shoulder, a faint pat echoing in the dim room.
At this moment, the flower in her heart almost withered to ash. The petals that had bloomed with such hope, such desperate longing, crumbled and scattered in the darkness.
Buzz, buzz, buzz!!
Suddenly, a muffled sound broke the frozen air between them. Hōjō Shione stiffly turned her head, her crimson eyes coldly looking toward the bedside.
She saw Shiratori Seiya's phone light up. A frenzied look appeared in her eyes.
Was it Hasegawa Saori? Or Takahashi Mio?
However, when she broke free from Shiratori Seiya's arm, walked over, and picked up the phone, she saw the caller ID and immediately calmed down.
She stared at the screen for two long seconds, her long eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
[Caller: Hōjō Suzune]