Haruki opened the front door and stepped inside, the house quiet and dim. He knelt down carefully and set Kyouko on the edge of the step to remove her shoes.
She watched him in silence, her heart unsteady—not just from the fever but from how gentle he was being, how attentive, how close.
Once her shoes were off, Haruki lifted her again without a word, carrying her up the stairs with quiet strength. Kyouko wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, studying his face.
He pushed open the door to her room with his shoulder, flicked on the light switch, and warm lamplight flooded the space. Haruki moved toward the bed and gently lowered her onto the mattress, his movements careful, deliberate.
But as he shifted his grip to stand back up—
His foot slipped.
"Ah—!"
In an instant, Haruki lost his balance and tumbled forward—right on top of her.
Their lips met.
Soft. Warm. Still.
It wasn't a brief brush; it lingered.
Just a second too long.
Kyouko's eyes widened, but she didn't move. Haruki froze, heart hammering in his chest, his body rigid as he realized what had just happened.
Neither of them spoke.
Only the sound of their breathing filled the room.
Their eyes locked—confused, surprised, and unsure of what this moment meant.
But neither pulled away.
Haruki could feel the softness of her lips, their warmth pressing against his own.
Kyouko felt it too. The shape of his mouth. The weight of his body pressing down on her, even in that brief, accidental moment.
Then Haruki's eyes widened in panic. He quickly pushed himself up, pulling away as his face flushed.
"S-sorry, Kyouko-san! I didn't mean to—!!"
Still lying on the bed, Kyouko looked up at him calmly, her expression soft despite the heat rising in her cheeks.
She smiled weakly. "It's okay, Haruki. I know... it was just an accident."
Haruki sat back, still flustered. "Y-yeah... sorry... Kyouko-san."
"Really, don't worry about it," she said again, this time with a small laugh.
Haruki rubbed the back of his neck, unsure where to look. "Do you want to eat something?"
Kyouko, who still didn't have much of an appetite, glanced at him with a warm smile.
"Maybe... ramen sounds good."
Haruki blinked, then smiled back. "Okay. I'll bring it up in a bit."
He stood, stealing one last glance at her before heading out. Kyouko watched him leave, her fingers gently brushing her lips.
It was just an accident.
And yet... it left something behind.
A feeling she couldn't quite name.
Haruki headed downstairs quietly, his footsteps light as he made his way to the kitchen.
He filled the kettle and set it on the stove.
As he waited for the water to boil, his fingers tapped the counter absentmindedly.
But his mind wasn't focused on the task at hand.
It drifted back to that moment upstairs.
Their lips.
The warmth of her breath.
The softness of her lips.
He kept telling himself it was just an accident, but the feeling it left behind lingered like a sweet aftertaste.
Haruki exhaled and ruffled his hair. "Damn…"
His heart was still racing. He wasn't supposed to feel this way—especially not toward his mother-in-law. But the memory of how gentle she'd looked lying beneath him, how her eyes hadn't pushed him away, how she'd smiled afterward—it all made it harder to forget.
The kettle clicked off.
Haruki blinked back into the moment and reached for the ramen packet. "Right... ramen."
He tried to focus on cooking, but his thoughts kept dragging him back to that accidental kiss.
Sweet.
Too sweet to forget.
Meanwhile, Kyouko lay upstairs in her room, the silence feeling heavier than before.
She stared at the ceiling, fingers gently brushing her lips—still tingling from the kiss.
It wasn't just a kiss.
It was warmth. Comfort. Something she hadn't felt in a long time.
Her heart was still beating faster than normal, and she wasn't sure if it was the fever or him.
Haruki-kun…
She should've been shocked. She should've pushed him away. But in that moment—when their lips touched—she didn't know why she hadn't. Was it because... I was expecting something?
And when he looked so panicked, apologizing with flushed cheeks and avoiding her gaze, she could only smile. It wasn't his fault. It was a clumsy accident.
But why… why did it make her feel so alive?
Kyouko turned her head to the side, gazing toward the door.
He was downstairs right now, making ramen for her. Someone caring enough to do something so small—it meant more than she could say.
She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.
What if Haruki had kissed her back then? Would I have let him kiss my lips? Or would I have returned the kiss?
"I must be crazy," she whispered.
But still… she didn't regret that kiss. Even if it was just an accident.
Not even a little.
Haruki brought the ramen up to Kyouko's room, carefully balancing the tray as he opened the door.
When he stepped inside, he saw Kyouko already changed into a comfortable outfit, leaning against the headboard. She looked up at him with a tired but warm smile.
"Kyouko-san, your ramen is here," he said softly.
"Thank you, Haruki."
"No problem."
He set the tray down on the small table beside her and adjusted the bowl for easy access.
"Ah, sorry—forgot something," he suddenly said, turning to leave.
"Haruki?"
But he was already heading downstairs. A minute later, he returned with a glass of warm water and a small bottle of sports drink.
"Here," he said as he placed them next to her. "In case water's not enough. You need to stay hydrated."
Kyouko blinked in surprise, then smiled again—gentler this time, almost shy. "You really think of everything, don't you?"
Haruki rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just common sense…"
"No," she replied, looking into his eyes. "It's not. Not everyone would care this much."
Haruki stayed silent, unsure how to respond.
Kyouko looked down and picked up her chopsticks. "You're making this hard for me, you know."
"…Hmm? Hard?"
She paused, then laughed softly. "Ah, nothing, Haruki… nothing."
Haruki tilted his head slightly, curious, but didn't press further. He smiled and sat down quietly at the edge of the bed.
Kyouko stirred the ramen with her chopsticks, her eyes soft and distant.
Outside, the rain had stopped. Inside, the quiet between them felt full—of something neither could name yet.
( End of Chapter )