Kirisu Mafuyu, though she'd finally managed to calm down, still didn't dare face Kojima Kana directly.
While pulling down the zipper of her tracksuit, she turned her back toward Kana, undressing with her back facing the other woman.
"We're both women—what's there to be shy about over something this small?" Kana clearly couldn't comprehend it.
Kirisu Mafuyu's whole body stiffened, her face faintly flushed. At last, she turned around and, feigning composure, lowered the arm that had been covering her chest.
"Oh—your figure's actually amazing!" Kana exclaimed in genuine surprise.
Already embarrassed, Mafuyu only grew more self‑conscious at the open compliment.
Kana noticed at once and tactfully didn't press the topic further. Still, as her gaze lingered, her surprise deepened.
Just as she'd said a moment ago—Kirisu Mafuyu's figure really was exceptional.
Her makeup was understated but clearly applied with care: neat eyeliner accentuating long lashes and bright eyes, a delicate nose, soft rosy lips, and an elegant glow across her face. Nothing about her beauty felt artificial; she wasn't one of those women on late‑night streets who relied on heavy cosmetics to construct their charm.
Even Kana had to admit it—Mafuyu's makeup merely highlighted her natural beauty. The porcelain fairness of her skin and the balance of her features were what truly drew the eye.
"You… could you give me a bit of advice?" Mafuyu asked, uneasy under Kana's scrutiny, but remembering why she'd come to ask in the first place.
"You bought it too small." Having suffered from sizing issues herself, Kana caught the problem immediately.
She walked slowly up to Mafuyu, resting a reassuring hand on her smooth, pale shoulder. "The straps must feel tight, right? By the way, didn't you ever try them on at the store first?"
Mafuyu awkwardly averted her gaze. "I did, but the fitting rooms were full that day, and people were queuing outside. So I just bought a set in the size I remembered. I thought it would fit."
Kana chuckled and shook her head. "That's not always reliable. Sizes vary, you know—sometimes it's the store's fault, sometimes it's just random."
As she spoke, Kana gently tugged at the thin black strap resting on Mafuyu's shoulder.
The motion made Mafuyu's face flush bright red. "W‑what are you doing?"
Kana leaned closer to inspect, calm as ever. "Just as I thought—you've got red marks here. If you don't switch to a better fit soon, your shoulders might actually get sore."
Mafuyu blinked, taken aback. So… she was just worried about me.
"Let's go together tonight, then. I can give you some practical advice while we're at it."
"Thank you," Mafuyu murmured.
When the two emerged from the room, Shirase—who'd been bored out of his mind—looked up from the TV. "You two done?"
It was just a casual question. Kana responded casually too, smiling as she nodded.
But Mafuyu couldn't bring herself to act that naturally in front of him. They didn't live under the same roof, nor did they have that kind of easy closeness.
"You didn't try to peek just now, did you?" Kana asked bluntly, completely unbothered by Mafuyu's alarmed look.
Shirase gave them both a withering stare. "Do I look like I'd waste time spying?"
If I wanted to look, I'd do it openly.
Kana winked at Mafuyu, the expression saying clearly: See? Told you there was nothing to worry about.
Mafuyu sighed inwardly. I get it, you two are close—but I'm not you. I can't just act so casually.
And yet, that very openness of Kana's personality was also the reason Mafuyu had become friends with her in the first place.
In today's world, people as genuine and uncalculating as Kojima Kana—so warm and straightforward toward friends—were rare.
"Well, I'll be heading off then." Shirase stood up before Kana could respond, adding briskly, "By the way, I checked the living room again. The bait's working, so you can relax."
"Really?" Mafuyu exhaled deeply, finally relieved she wouldn't have to stay on edge anymore.
Kana, meanwhile, asked cheerfully, "You're sure you don't want to stay for dinner?"
"No thanks. I'll cook when I get home." Shirase declined. He was eager to get back to grinding the new functions progress bar.
Kana puffed her cheeks, resting her chin in her hands in mock disappointment. "Aw, I wanted to make you cook for us instead. Your cooking's already better than mine—whether it's sweets or regular meals, everything you make tastes amazing."
Mafuyu glanced at Shirase, surprised. "Kana mentioned that before. You're really that good at cooking?"
"Just a little."
Getting that modest answer only piqued her curiosity further.
Still, she couldn't exactly force him to stay, so she simply said, "Then let me walk you out."
"I'll pass~" Kana waved lazily from the table, propping her chest against the edge without a care.
Shirase and Mafuyu stepped out together. As he changed shoes at the door, she said quietly, "About the cleaning earlier… I really do owe you my thanks."
"Kirisu-sensei's way of saying thanks is certainly unique," Shirase chuckled.
Mafuyu bit her lip. He really does see right through me. Otherwise, how could he joke to my face like that?
Even so, she straightened her posture and replied earnestly, "I'll make an effort not to rely on others for cleaning anymore. You can tell Kana as well—she doesn't need to keep worrying about my place."
"You actually believe that?" Shirase asked.
"Of course."
"Really? Too bad I don't. I doubt Kana-nee would either."
"…"
There's no talking to him!
Mafuyu clenched her small fists. She really wanted to punch him right then.
Shirase noticed her frustration and smiled. "I think I'll have to update my impression template of Kirisu-sensei. In addition to 'tsundere,' I'll add 'domestic disaster.'"
He called me a tsundere again!
Her fists tightened. "Seems like I'll have to sit you down one day and make you understand I'm not a tsundere at all."
Hearing the threat, Shirase responded smoothly, "Why not today? I happen to have time. I can even come along while you two shop for clothes—maybe give Kana-nee a man's perspective on what looks good."
Mafuyu huffed. "Oh? And you'd only be giving Kana advice?"
Shirase feigned surprise. "Wait—does Kirisu-sensei want me to give her advice too?"
Mafuyu ignored him completely and turned away.
Just before she did, though, the tips of her ears turned a faint shade of red.
Behind her came Shirase's earnest tone: "If Kirisu-sensei really does want my advice, I suppose I can reluctantly agree… Hey—don't hit me first, okay?"
The moment Mafuyu turned back with an icy expression, Shirase spun on his heel and bolted.
Watching his retreating back, Mafuyu snorted softly. "You'd better run fast. Think you can 'handle' me?"
But then the memory of everything that had happened that day replayed in her mind. Her face turned crimson, and she covered it with both hands, crouching down helplessly.
What a disgrace.
Because deep down, she knew—
He really did handle me perfectly.
And… he even touched my thigh.