We were nestled together on the rooftop, close enough to the sky that the horizon looked reachable with a single leap. Mochizuki Haruka gazed dreamily out—her expression lost somewhere between bliss and disbelief.
Shopping for couple outfits, feeding each other teppanyaki, basking in the summer sun, sharing overpriced milk tea and donuts with me—her "handsome classmate."
All ordinary details, except for her. For her, this was once a girlhood fantasy—a parallel universe she never thought she'd enter.
Now the dream was real, breathing and laughing at her side.
Every weekend date with me seemed only to deepen her happiness and, at the same time, a little uncertainty.
"Is this a dream?"
She started whispering, more to herself than anyone else.
"Is this a dream…?"
Her voice, so soft and repetitive, made me smile.
I couldn't help but reach over, pinching her cheeks between my fingers with gentle affection, kneading them until she blinked in surprise.
"See? Not a dream, right?"
"Uh-huh…"
She giggled, the dazed look fading just a bit, replaced by a shy and satisfyingly real smile.
"Uh-huh…"
She giggled, the dazed look fading just a bit, replaced by a shy and satisfyingly real smile.
But then, like a kid hoping for more magic, Haruka tilted her sweet face up toward me. "Um… Ginjo-san, can you pinch me again? Just once more—I'm still not sure…"
My heart stuttered.
Her eyes, impossibly big and shining, looked up at me without a trace of doubt, asking, pleading. Her cheeks, pale and soft as a cloud, blushed pink from our sunlit adventure.
I gave in, reaching out to touch her again.
First a gentle poke—feeling her skin's softness, smoother than any dream could conjure. Then, unconsciously, my palm trailed across her jawline, brushing stray hair behind her ear, fingertips tracing her delicate earlobe.
Her breathing changed: soft, quick, something between a sigh and an accidental moan.
My curiosity went wild—could her ears really be that sensitive?
Another slow stroke along her ear, and— "Yeah…"—her barely audible voice deepened the moment's intimacy.
She leaned into my arm, her body going slack, trying to keep quiet but a gentle sound still spilled out. Her shy bud-like smile melted into something more mature, a new look in her gentle gaze—a mixture of longing and confidence that made all my thoughts scatter.
Suddenly, I was aware of the heat in my own chest, the sparks running down my spine. Her eyes met mine, and I saw the same need reflected there.
Guided by instinct, I encircled her shoulders and leaned close.
She looked into my eyes, smiled, and closed hers—a silent invitation.
I didn't hesitate. Our lips met softly—one heartbeat, then another, and another.
I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing Haruka's face after a kiss—especially one as unexpectedly passionate as our rooftop rendezvous. Her cheeks flushed, lips still tingling, she looked like she'd just returned from another planet, hands fiddling with her hair in unmistakable joy and shy panic.
She leaned into me, totally lost in sensation, until it suddenly registered:
"Ah!"
A soft yelp escaped her lips.
Reality check—broad daylight, open rooftop, families everywhere, and we'd just locked lips with all the abandon of drama leads in the middle of a crowded plaza.
Haruka shot a panicked glance around—kids playing at the fountains, people on benches, the band still crooning away at the public stage.
No one had noticed.
Her shoulders slumped in relief.
Thank goodness. If anyone had seen—actually, if anyone even whispers about this, she'll die of embarrassment on the spot.
She finally looked back up at me, eyes wide.
"We… kind of forgot ourselves a little…"
I grinned, not feeling even a hint of shame. "I noticed. Next time, maybe let's go for somewhere a bit less… cinematic?"
She giggled, cheeks hot.
"Y-yeah… Next time, somewhere quieter would be… um… nice…"
She's already thinking about next time. The girl's too cute for her own good.
But a moment later, restless and embarrassed, she sprang to her feet.
"Cinema, Ginjo-san! Let's go!" she stammered, grabbing my hand and making a beeline for the exit—her running form practically radiating number-one-in-class anxiety.
I couldn't help smiling as she tugged me along. Her focus on escape was so intense, she nearly ran past two kids at the fountain—just as they let loose a wild splash that arced, perilously close, toward us.
Good timing, Sousuke! Or else she'd be a drowned cat with the world's fluffiest hair.
I dove in, hugged Haruka tight, and yanked her to safety.
"You okay, Mochizuki-san?"
She blinked, startled but dry.
"Y-yeah… close call. Thanks, Ginjo-san."
We waved off the frantic apologies from the kids' parents and hurried inside—luck narrowly on our side.
Or so I thought.
At the cinema ticket kiosk: SOLD OUT.
Not a single seat left for the blockbuster romance we'd set our hearts on.
Haruka's shoulders slumped again—a look somewhere between devastation and existential crisis.
Is this fate, or just harem comedy luck? Why do movies always go wrong? At this rate, we should just give up and watch YouTube together.
"I thought romance movies were out of fashion…" she muttered, voice faint.
We checked the schedule—the next showing was a whole two hours away.
I pulled out my phone, logged in, and snagged seats for the next available time.
"It's fine. Look, we can still see it today. Now we have extra time—more chances to hang out, right?"
Her eyes cleared, a smile creeping back.
"You're always so calm, Ginjo-san. Older, wiser… shouldn't that be my job?"
I reached out, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe that means I'm learning from you. Let's go make the most of our bonus time—see what else we can get up to before the credits roll."
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