Vol 1 Chapter 5 – An Embarrassing Thing to Say【Volume 1: The Road to Romance】

“Lightning struck and knocked the power out.”

“Must have hit somewhere nearby. Hence the blackout. …Hard to say when it’ll come back on.”

“Hopefully soon…”

“The typhoon’s supposed to last until morning so I wouldn’t count on it being over soon.”

“And we were right in the middle of the game.”

He couldn’t see much in the dark, but something in the atmosphere told him Shino was pouting.

She’d wanted to keep playing. That much was clear.

But wanting to play and actually being able to play were two different things when there was no power—nothing to be done about it.

“…It’s just past midnight anyway. Might be for the best. Time to sleep.”

“I wanted to play a little longer, though. …Haaah.”

“Accept your fate. …Take my bed — you can have it.”

“Sure — wait, if I’m in your bed, where are you sleeping?”

“Sofa. Floor. Something.”

“…You don’t have to do that. I’ll take the sofa.”

“I’m not about to make a girl sleep on the furniture while I’m perfectly comfortable in my own bed. I don’t consider myself that heartless. Think of it as doing me a favor — so I can keep believing I’m a decent person. Just take the bed.”

He turned toward her as he said it.

Her expression was lost to the dark, but he could follow the outline of her silhouette well enough. She was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest.

“…Fine. Can’t have you going down in history as a villain, I guess.”

She laughed — small and quiet.

Sandai wasn’t sure what was funny, but he’d long since given up trying to follow the internal logic of gals. He let it go.

“Glad we’re on the same page. The bedroom is through there.”

“‘Through there’ doesn’t help much when I can’t see anything. It’s dark. …So hold my hand and show me.”

She couldn’t see the room, but apparently, she could locate his hand just fine.

Shino reached out and took it.

Small. Slender. Soft. And just slightly cold.

“Leading you there is no trouble. …Your hand’s a little cold, though.”

“…Have you heard the saying? Cold hands, warm heart?”

“I’ve heard it.”

He couldn’t remember where — but yes, somewhere along the way that piece of folklore had reached him. Cold-handed people are kind, warm-hearted, gentle — that was how it went.

He’d never believed it. It had always seemed like the same category of thing as good-luck charms and horoscopes—a pleasant idea, nothing more.

But standing in the dark with Shino’s cold hand in his, something in that assessment quietly shifted.

He’d been cold to her first. Distant, closed-off, deliberately unreachable. And she had come back anyway — easy, uncomplicated, as if none of it had registered as a reason to stop.

If he asked anyone what they’d call that, they’d all say the same thing.

Kind.

So if her hands were cold because she was kind — somehow, for the first time, that actually made sense to him.

“…Thank you. Yuizaki.”

“Huh? W-what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“You’re kind. Genuinely, remarkably kind.”

“…I-I don’t have anything to give you for the flattery, so that you know.”

“I’m not fishing for anything. I just said what I was thinking. That’s all.”

Silence.

Shino had gone completely quiet.

It stayed that way until they reached the bedroom, where she lay down, curled herself into a small shape under the covers, and within moments her breathing had gone soft and even.

…Did that come across as strange?

The total absence of any response had him second-guessing himself. He was aware — painfully aware — that what he’d said was the kind of thing a person didn’t normally just say out loud.

But.

Saying it had still felt better than not saying it. That certainty hadn’t wavered. So whatever came of it, he found he had no regrets.

☆

Back in the living room, Sandai pulled out his phone and checked the time.

12:20 AM.

“Wonder if I can still catch my anime tonight.”

With Shino asleep, the rest of the night was his. He’d been planning on watching the late-night episode he’d been looking forward to — but the power was still out.

He waited. Held on until just past the broadcast time, hoping the lights would come back on.

They didn’t.

The episode came and went without him.

“Would have liked to watch it live, but… circumstances are circumstances. I’ll find it on the streaming service later.”

He stifled a yawn, stretched out on the sofa, and closed his eyes.

The sofa, as it turned out, was surprisingly comfortable. He went under fast and slept deeply.

The next morning, he did not wake up on his own.

What finally brought him around was the smell of something cooking — and the steady, rhythmic tap of a ladle against his forehead.