After letting out that tiny, unguarded moan, Nino immediately realized how strange it had sounded.
Her face flamed crimson. Sneaking a glance at Shirase, she caught his faintly startled expression and blurted out an excuse: "That was only because your touch was too sudden—I just felt a little ticklish, okay? Don't get any weird ideas."
"I get it," Shirase said smoothly, deliberately pretending not to notice. "As long as you stay quiet from now on, I promise I won't think anything strange."
I definitely won't make any weird noises again!
Nino pressed her lips tight together, determined.
But the moment his hands began moving again—steady, warm, and rhythmic—those waves of gentle pressure sent tingling warmth flowing through her body. Her fingers curled unconsciously into fists.
What is this? Is a massage supposed to feel like this?
Her heartbeat quickened, her cheeks burning hotter by the second. When she'd played around with her sisters before, they'd sometimes given each other casual shoulder rubs or back massages, but this—this was completely different.
Her entire body was relaxing, melting into the mattress like she was soaking in a warm, blissful spring.
"Mmm…"
Another soft hum escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Immediately, she heard Shirase chuckle.
"Don't laugh!"
She turned to glare at him, face red all the way to her ears. "What kind of massage therapist laughs at their client? If I were a real customer, I'd give you one star!"
"You can't question a professional's technique," Shirase replied mildly, his hands still moving with practiced precision.
Nino tried to hold back another involuntary sound, but her voice still trembled. "You're so not professional!"
"Not professional, huh?" Shirase's tone turned teasing as he increased the pressure just slightly.
Her whole body stiffened. The sudden surge of pleasure was sharper—better—than before.
No way. Did he seriously learn this from a real masseur? How can he be this good?
Her heart pounded like a drum. She wanted to say something cutting back, but when his palms slid lower to her waist, her body went completely limp.
She melted into the sheets, face buried in her arms, her eyes hazy with heat and confusion.
"Hmm? Why aren't you continuing your criticism?" Shirase teased. "If you keep talking, I might feel even more motivated."
Too good… he's way too good at this!
Nino bit her lip hard, her whole face flushed. She didn't dare say another word.
If this guy lost control right now…
Thank goodness she'd made him close the door. If any of her sisters barged in, she'd never live it down.
...
When the massage finally ended, Shirase stepped off the bed, but before he could even stretch, Nino jumped up, quickly slipped her shoes back on, and rushed to the door.
He blinked. "What are you doing?"
Two quick clicks echoed as she locked it tight. Only then did she exhale, visibly relieved.
Shirase laughed softly. "What are you so afraid of? It's not like we did anything wrong."
"You were definitely doing something wrong just now!" Nino shot back, leaning against the door. Her flushed cheeks and glistening eyes made her look both flustered and endearing.
"I told you, I'm a professional," Shirase said lightly, stepping closer. "You shouldn't doubt my technique."
"I didn't see any professionalism in you at all."
"Then why'd you stop arguing halfway through?"
"Because… because I wanted to save your pride! I'm not the kind of girl who enjoys pushing people too far."
"Oh, so that's why," Shirase teased gently. "You're such a terrible liar, Nino. It's adorable."
"Don't say it like that—eh? Wait, what are you doing—"
Before she could finish, Shirase wrapped his arms around her.
Caught off guard, Nino went completely still, her face burning as she found herself pulled against his chest. Her small hands rested weakly against his shoulders—half pushing, half clinging.
Then, as if nothing had happened, Shirase suddenly said, "I just remembered—the soccer team tryouts are only a few months away."
Thrown off by the sudden topic change, Nino blinked, then relaxed a little. "But you practice every day, right? You should still have enough time."
"It should be fine." He smiled faintly, his hand resting lightly on her waist. "I've been watching footage of strong teams from last year. There are some incredible semi-pro players out there, but…"
"But what?" she asked, curiosity piqued, momentarily forgetting she was still in his arms.
Looking down at her flushed face, Shirase smiled softly. "Actually, I should be saying this to Hayama and the others. But I don't want to put too much pressure on them. Apart from Hayama and the captain, the rest of the guys aren't as mentally strong as you might think."
He paused for a moment. "Because of everything that's happened over the past few years, our soccer club—once decent—turned into a total joke. Honestly, even a dog would've spit before walking past our field."
Hearing that, Nino couldn't help laughing. "It can't be that bad."
"I thought so too," Shirase said, smiling ruefully. "But when Hayama first dragged me into the club, it really was. I figured I could just coast, maybe win a few games to save face."
"And then?"
"Then I realized I'd been too optimistic." His expression softened, tinged with memory. "Aside from Hayama and the captain, everyone else was just killing time."
Nino could hear the frustration in his voice. Resting her forehead gently against his chest, she said softly, "That must've been really discouraging."
Shirase nodded. "It was. I'm not someone who likes wasting time. I wanted to win—but there's only so much one person can do in a broken team."
Then his tone lightened, a small smile forming again. "Still, I was lucky. Hayama's the kind of person who can pull everyone together. That's what I admire most about him—it's not his skill, it's his leadership."
"And you couldn't do that?" Nino asked, a little indignant on his behalf.
She'd seen with her own eyes how hard he worked—how fiercely he pushed himself to the very end of their matches, fighting like someone who refused to lose.
"Me?" Shirase looked a bit surprised by her question, then smiled. "At first, soccer was just a hobby. But once I saw everyone's morale collapse, I decided I couldn't stand feeling powerless. Even a blade of grass that gets stepped on will still grow upright again."
"After winning our first friendly, I realized that once we were united, we weren't half bad. Maybe not champions, but good enough to fight back with pride. Even if we're just ordinary weeds, if we keep training every day, one day we'll be strong enough to stand tall in the wind—and maybe even catch people's attention. That's when I started aiming for the national tournament."
As he spoke, Shirase gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Maybe it sounds naive. Aside from me and Hayama, even our captain struggles to match the prodigies out there. We don't have semi-pros or scouts circling us. But still…"
He tapped his chest lightly. "I believe in myself—and in everyone else."
Of course, by "everyone," he meant Hayama Hayato and their teammates.
"I don't think that's naive at all," Nino said softly, looking up at him with bright, admiring eyes.
Because this—this calm, quietly confident version of Shirase—was exactly the one she loved most.
---
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