Stepping into the familiar yet always slightly intimidating entryway of Sakura Dormitory, Eriri Spencer Sawamura's first encounter was with Ogiwara Sayu, who was diligently mopping the floor, her movements rhythmic and efficient.
"Sawamura-san! Welcome!" Sayu greeted her with a warm, genuine smile, pausing her work.
"Y-Yeah, I'm here." Eriri tried to inject some casual bravado into her voice, her eyes darting around the common area. "Where is… that guy?" She couldn't bring herself to say his name, her posture already poised for a potential retreat.
Ogiwara Sayu couldn't suppress a soft giggle, covering her mouth with her hand. Eriri's current demeanor—a mix of defiant posturing and transparent nervousness—was strikingly reminiscent of Yukinoshita Yukino during her early visits.
The main difference was that Yukino had usually been provoked into a flustered retreat, only to be coaxed back later, often with her hand held firmly in Nozomi's. Sayu, of course, knew exactly who 'that guy' was.
"Hozuki Nozomi is in his room, of course," she replied cheerfully. "He mentioned he was waiting for someone. Could that someone be you, Sawamura-san?"
"W-Wha—?! Of course not!" Eriri's denial was swift and a little too loud, her head shaking vigorously. "I'm here today to deliver some manuscript drafts to Misaki-senpai! And to discuss the studio's next game project with Aoyama-san!" The excuses tumbled out, rehearsed but unconvincing.
Sayu, recognizing the familiar pattern of tsundere denial, simply smiled and didn't press further. She gave a small shrug. "I see. Well, make yourself at home. I've still got cleaning to do." For Ogiwara Sayu, Sakura Dormitory was as much her home as Shiina Mahiru's, and maintaining its spotless comfort was a point of pride and belonging.
Eriri watched as Sayu knelt back down, meticulously wiping the floorboards with a cloth. A complicated feeling stirred in her chest. "So diligent… What on earth did that guy do to deserve such devoted girls?" she muttered under her breath, a slight, unconscious pout forming on her lips.
Muttering to herself, she made a show of heading toward the stairs. However, instead of ascending to the third floor where Kamiigusa Misaki's room was located, she found herself on the second-floor landing. Her footsteps grew quieter as she approached a specific door.
Standing before it, she took a deep, steadying breath, her small fists clenched at her sides. You can do this, Eriri! Don't let him see you're scared! With one final internal pep talk, she pushed the door open.
Inside, the "bad guy" in question, Hozuki Nozomi, was sprawled on his bed, eyes closed, the very picture of someone enjoying a leisurely nap.
Hmph! Lazybones! she thought, a surge of misplaced superiority momentarily overriding her nerves. "Sayu is working her fingers to the bone, and here you are, lazing about," she whispered with contempt, though her voice was barely audible. She stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Now safely inside, her curiosity got the better of her. She let her gaze wander around his room. It was… surprisingly tidy. Apart from the large bed, the walls were lined with bookshelves. They were packed not with figurines, as she might have expected from an otaku, but with neatly organized game cases and light novel volumes.
In one corner, however, stood two unusual items: a chest that looked like it belonged in a fantasy RPG, and beside it, an ornately carved antique wooden box—the Rozen Maiden's N-Field container.
Eriri's artist's eye was intrigued by the craftsmanship, but she had more self-control than to rummage through someone else's belongings. Her attention drifted back to the sleeping figure on the bed.
Looking at his peacefully handsome face, an impish idea sparked in her mind. Her lips curled into a mischievous smirk. She quietly retrieved a fine-tipped paintbrush from her bag, the kind she used for detailed linework. Hmph, sleeping like a log. Serves you right if I give you a nice, flowery makeover.
Heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and thrilling audacity, she tiptoed to the bedside. She leaned in, studying his face to ensure he was truly asleep. Satisfied, she brought the tip of the brush slowly, slowly toward his cheek…
Just as the bristles were about to make contact, his eyes snapped open. They were clear, alert, and held an amused glint that suggested he hadn't been asleep at all.
Eriri froze, her entire body going stiff. The wicked smile vanished, replaced by a mask of pure, deer-in-headlights panic. She jerked her hand back, hiding the paintbrush behind her back as if it were contraband, and scrambled to her feet, putting two quick steps of distance between them.
Hozuki Nozomi's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Sawamura-san. And what, pray tell, were you attempting to do just now?"
"I—It was nothing!" she blustered, forcing her voice to sound casual. "I just saw you sleeping so soundly and thought I should… wake you up!" She punctuated the weak excuse with a defiant pout, a gesture that was more cute than convincing.
Nozomi's gaze traveled over her, from her vibrant golden twin-tails down her slender form. His voice dropped to a lower, more intimate register. "Sawamura-san, why are you standing all the way over there? Come here."
That tone, that look—it was the predatory one she'd been fearing. A shiver ran through her, and she shook her head vehemently. "Why should I listen to you? You say 'come here,' so I just come? No way! I refuse!"
He raised an eyebrow, his amusement deepening. "Is that your final answer?"
"Hmph! It is!"
"Well then," he said, the smile never leaving his face as he swung his legs off the bed. "I'll just have to come to you." He stood up and began walking toward her, his arms spread slightly in a gesture that was both welcoming and inescapable.
Eriri's eyes widened. She instinctively backed away, step for step, until her back met the solid wood of the door. There was nowhere left to retreat.
Hozuki Nozomi didn't hesitate. He placed his hands on the doorframe on either side of her head, caging her in completely—the classic, inescapable kabe-don.
Eriri let out a small, involuntary squeak. Her fair hands came up, palms flat against his chest in a futile attempt to hold him at bay. Her face was burning. "Y-You… don't you dare mess around!"
He leaned in a fraction closer, his wicked smile unwavering. "Who's messing around? I'm being perfectly serious. If anything, you're the one who snuck into my room without knocking and tried to vandalize my face with a paintbrush. A guy could get the wrong idea—think you have some kind of… interest in him."
"N-Nonsense!" she sputtered, glaring up at him with as much force as she could muster, which wasn't much under the circumstances. "Wasn't it you who told me to come?!"
Her small hands pressed against the firm plane of his chest, feeling the steady, powerful beat of his heart through his shirt. The sensation sent a wave of unexpected weakness through her limbs.
"Oh? So you did come because I asked?" he teased, his voice a low rumble. "Then why didn't you come over when I asked you to just a moment ago?"
Eriri bit her lower lip, turning her face to the side in a gesture of stubborn defiance. She seemed to realize that verbal sparring was a battle she couldn't win; it only gave him more ammunition to tease her. She opted for a tactical silence.
But Hozuki Nozomi wasn't done. In one smooth motion, his arm slipped around her slender waist. His other hand slid beneath the bend of her knees, which were sheathed in her signature black thigh-high socks, and he lifted her clean off her feet.
"Aah! You scoundrel! Put me down! What do you think you're doing?!" Eriri yelped, her fists drumming a frantic, harmless tattoo against his shoulders and chest.
Ignoring her flustered protests, he carried her the few steps back to the bed and sat down, settling her securely in his lap. Only then did he look down at her properly, her face now a captivating shade of scarlet.
His expression softened from teasing to something gentler, though the intensity in his eyes remained. "Relax," he murmured. "I'm not going to do anything bad. I just want to hold you." He brushed a stray golden strand of hair from her cheek. "I may be a scoundrel, but I don't force cute girls into anything they don't want."
Eriri, still held firmly in his lap, pouted up at him. "Aren't you forcing me right now?"
"Is this considered forcing?" He adjusted his hold, making it more comfortable but no less secure.
"Of course it is! Can a girl just be hugged so casually by anyone?!"