Aoyama Nanami stood at the kitchen counter beside Shiina Mahiru, the late afternoon sunlight slanting through the window and catching dust motes in lazy spirals. The smell of sesame oil warming in a pan mingled with the fresh green scent of just-washed vegetables. Nanami's cheeks carried a faint pink flush as Mahiru teased her about something trivial—but her attention fractured the moment the front door clicked open.
"I'm home."
Hozuki Nozomi's voice carried from the genkan, warm and familiar.
Nanami's gaze drifted over before she could stop it.
He stepped inside, shrugging off his jacket, and beside him stood a girl Nanami had seen several times now—Asada Shino. Delicate frame, round glasses perched on a small nose, dark hair falling past her shoulders in soft waves. She clutched the strap of her bag with both hands, posture hunched slightly as though expecting to be scolded for existing.
Again, Nanami thought, her lips pressing together. Every single day this week.
"Yo, Nanami, Mahiru—good afternoon." Nozomi flashed that easy smile of his, the one that crinkled the corners of his dark eyes. "What's for dinner tonight?"
"Hello, everyone." Shino's voice came out barely above a whisper, her gaze fixed somewhere around Nanami's collarbone rather than her face.
Nanami felt her jaw tighten. She turned her head away from Nozomi with a sharp little "Hmph," ponytail swishing behind her, and directed her response solely at the other girl.
"Good afternoon, Asada-san."
Why does he have to pick her up every single day? Doesn't she know the way home by now?
Mahiru's soft laugh tickled Nanami's ear.
"Tonight we're having stir-fry and fish soup." Her amber eyes glittered with barely suppressed amusement as she glanced between the two of them.
"Want us to help?" Nozomi offered, winking at Mahiru with theatrical charm.
Shameless, Nanami thought, her small hands curling into fists at her sides.
"Nanami," Mahiru nudged her with a gentle elbow, "what do you think?"
Nanami's honey-brown eyes flicked up to meet Nozomi's gaze—then away just as quickly. She presented him with her profile, chin lifted, the very picture of wounded pride.
"Hmph."
Her ponytail bounced with the motion, catching the light.
Nozomi sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Understood. I won't get in your way, then."
He retreated toward the living area, but Asada Shino lingered. Her fingers twisted nervously around her bag strap as she watched Nanami's rigid back.
I want to get along with everyone, Shino reminded herself. I have to try.
...
Shiina Mahiru was nothing if not perceptive.
Within ten minutes, she'd manufactured an excuse to leave Nanami and Shino alone in the kitchen—something about checking the laundry. The door swung shut behind her, and silence descended like a held breath.
Nanami stood at the cutting board, knife moving through a carrot with mechanical precision. Thock. Thock. Thock. The rhythm filled the quiet. Beside her, Shino washed vegetables in the sink, water rushing over her pale, slender fingers.
The kitchen smelled of ginger and green onion, sharp and clean.
Thock. Thock.
"Um..." Shino's small voice broke first. "Aoyama-san, are you... angry at me?"
Nanami's knife paused mid-slice.
"Huh? No." She shook her head quickly, too quickly. "Why would you think that?"
Shino's hands stilled beneath the running water. Behind her glasses, her dark eyes held a fragile, searching quality.
She's going to hate me. Just like the others did. I can feel it.
"Because when you saw Nozomi bring me home," Shino said quietly, "your expression changed. You looked... displeased." She swallowed hard. "So I thought—maybe you find me troublesome. That I'm annoying, needing to be picked up like a child even though I'm already in high school."
"That's not—" Nanami set her knife down, turning to face the smaller girl fully. Shino's shoulders were hunched, defensive, like she was bracing for a blow.
Oh.
The defensiveness in Nanami's chest loosened, replaced by something softer.
"Asada-san, you're overthinking." She hesitated, then let out a breath that deflated her rigid posture. "Okay. Fine. I was uncomfortable. But not because of you specifically."
Shino blinked, water still dripping from her fingers.
"It's just..." Nanami's cheeks flushed. "Since you arrived, I've felt a little... neglected. Showing that on my face like some jealous child—doesn't that make me petty?"
God, saying it out loud makes it sound even worse.
But Shino's expression shifted. The tension around her eyes eased, and a small, genuine smile curved her lips.
"No," she said softly. "Actually, I feel relieved."
"Relieved?"
Shino dried her hands on a dish towel, her movements slow and deliberate. "I've been wondering if there was something strange about this place. Everyone accepts Nozomi having multiple girlfriends so easily—Mahiru-san, and the others. Sometimes I thought maybe he'd... I don't know, charmed everyone somehow."
"That's ridiculous." Nanami rolled her eyes, but her voice had lost its edge. "He's absolutely a flirt, but he's serious about every one of us. He'd never be careless with someone's heart."
A pause.
"And his situation is... special. Multiple relationships aren't unusual for someone like him."
Shino's smile turned knowing. "Then, Aoyama-san—what are you so afraid of?"
Nanami's face went scarlet. "You—you tricked me into saying all that!"
Sneaky. This girl is sneaky.
"I'm sorry." Shino didn't look sorry at all. "I wanted to help you feel better." Her smile faded into something more serious, more vulnerable. "Before I came here, I only had one friend. And then I found out... he'd been spreading rumors about me the whole time. Saying terrible things. That's why I was bullied. Ostracized."
Nanami's heart clenched.
"Nozomi told me everyone here is kind," Shino continued, her voice wavering slightly. "That no one would isolate me because of my past. I wanted to believe him." She extended her hand, small and pale, toward Nanami. "Aoyama-san—can we be friends?"
This girl...
Nanami looked at that outstretched hand, at Shino's earnest, frightened-hopeful expression, and felt her remaining resentment crumble like wet sand.
"You've completely defeated me," she admitted.
She clasped Shino's hand firmly.
"We're friends now, Asada-san. Please take care of me."
"Please take care of me too." Shino's grip tightened, and when she smiled, her whole face transformed—softer, younger, relieved. "And, Aoyama-san? I'm not going to compete with you. Having a place where I belong, making friends—that's already more than enough for me."
Dinner passed in warmth and laughter.
Nozomi sat at the head of the long table, chopsticks moving between dishes as he watched the girls interact. The fish soup was rich with ginger and scallion, steam curling up from each bowl. Conversation flowed easily—Mahiru's gentle teasing, Nanami's flustered protests, Shino's quiet but genuine contributions.
At one point, Nozomi caught Nanami and Shino exchanging a smile over some shared joke, their earlier tension completely dissolved.
He leaned close to Mahiru, his shoulder brushing hers.
"Did I miss something?" he murmured, lips nearly touching her ear. "When did they become best friends?"
Mahiru turned, her amber eyes dancing. Honestly, he's so oblivious sometimes.
"They probably talked things out," she whispered back. "Nanami and Shino are both gentle people. It was only a matter of time."
Nozomi nodded slowly, accepting this.
But his gaze lingered on Nanami—on the way her cheeks flushed when she laughed, the graceful line of her neck, the ponytail that swayed with every animated gesture.
She's been avoiding me all week, he thought. Tonight might be a good time to fix that.
Evening settled over Sakura Dormitory like a heavy quilt.
Aoyama Nanami emerged from the bathroom, skin still warm from her shower, dressed in a thin cotton sleep shirt that barely reached mid-thigh. The hallway was dim, lit only by the soft glow from beneath bedroom doors.
She padded barefoot toward her room.
And then she passed his door.
Her feet slowed. Stopped.
Don't, she told herself.
Her heart was already beating faster.
The wood was cool against her ear as she pressed close, holding her breath, straining to hear any sound from within. The faint scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something darker, muskier—clung to the door frame.
What am I doing? This is so embarrassing—
But she couldn't pull away.
The silence stretched. No voices. No telltale sounds of—of whatever she'd been expecting (dreading? hoping for?). Just quiet.
Disappointment sank in her stomach, heavy and unwelcome.
He's probably already asleep. Or maybe he's not even in there. Why do I even—
"Nanami."
She nearly leaped out of her skin.
Nozomi's voice came from directly behind her, low and amused.
"What were you doing just now?"
"U-Um—" She spun around, face burning. He stood barely a foot away, dressed in a loose t-shirt and joggers, arms crossed over his chest. The hallway light caught the glint in his dark eyes. "I wasn't doing anything!"
"Oh?" His lips curved. "So I imagined you pressing your ear against my door?"
"You saw wrong! I would never do something so—mmph!"
His hands moved before she could finish—one sliding beneath her knees, the other supporting her back as he scooped her up in a single fluid motion.
"H-Hey!"
Her arms flew around his neck instinctively, fingers clutching his shirt. He was warm, solid, and he smelled like clean soap and that familiar sandalwood musk. Her head spun.
The door opened. Closed.
The lock clicked.
By the time Nanami's brain caught up, she was lying on his bed, sinking into the mattress that still carried his body heat and scent. The sheets were dark blue, soft against her bare legs. The room was dim, lit only by a small lamp on the nightstand casting warm shadows across the walls.
Nozomi stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at her with an expression that made her thighs press together involuntarily.
"Nozomi," she managed, arms crossed protectively over her chest, "what—what are you going to do?"
He rubbed his palms together slowly, the sound almost theatrical.
He's enjoying this, Nanami realized, her face burning hotter. The smug bastard.
"What do I think?" He climbed onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of her hips, caging her in. His face hovered above hers, close enough that she could see the individual lashes framing his dark eyes.
*****
A/n
I'm Back!!!
Sorry for the abrupt hiatus, such is the nature of IRL issues.
Anyway, I'm thinking of publishing advanced chapters on Discord. The reason why, is that Patreon will most likely flag the chapter contents possibly resulting in another ban.
Discord has less stricter rules.
To do this, I'll use Kofi, where after you subscribe, the bot will automatically let you into the vault with the advanced chapters.
Also, I'm adding another SOL story later in the day that y'all are probably gonna like. This way, you won't feel too cheated if you choose the Discord option since I'm also using the Server to provide translated Adult Korean Manhwa.
The price is $4.99 fyi.