The next morning, Mai Sakurajima stirred from her sleep with a strange sensation.
There was a faint tightness in her chest… and a slight tingle, like static.
Her brows knitted gently as she cracked open her long lashes, revealing violet eyes still heavy with drowsiness.
And then— She saw him.
Sitting casually beside her bed, munching on a pack of nutritional supplents like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Morning, Mai-senpai."
His voice was as bright as the morning sun, cheerful and utterly shaless.
"…!"
For a second, her brain lagged behind. But when reality caught up, her entire face ignited into a blush.
"Y-You… you PERVERT!"
With a powerful thud, Nozomi was kicked straight off the bed.
It was the natural result of low favorability combined with questionable behavior. You reap what you sow, especially when dealing with a beautiful, sharp-tongued senpai.
But Nozomi, unfazed, simply dusted himself off, stood up, and dove right back in— Wrapping his arms around Mai Sakurajima like a villain who didn't know the aning of retreat.
"My bad, Senpai. But I couldn't help it. You're way too adorable when you sleep…"
"Shaless idiot!"
She squird and pushed against him, cheeks puffed in protest. "So just because I look cute, you think that gives you the right to touch ?"
Nozomi's grin widened. "Of course not. But I did leave my fingerprints. So from now on, Mai belongs to ~"
"Scoundrel~!"
Her eyes welled slightly, glittering like athyst under sunlight. She was flustered, angry—and maybe just a tiny bit flattered.
Nozomi's gaze softened as he leaned forward and gently kissed her lips.
It wasn't about impulse or lust. It was about expression—his way of showing her that she mattered. That she lived in his heart, whether she believed it or not.
And though Mai Sakurajima wanted to resist, her heart betrayed her. Her arms—slender and pale—wrapped around his neck, pulling him in.
When they finally parted, breath short and cheeks flushed, she muttered defensively: "T-That was just … practicing. I'm trying to improve my acting, don't get the wrong idea!"
Nozomi chuckled, brushing her chin with his fingers. "Understood. I'm honored to be Mai-senpai's personal practice prop. But—just so you know—you're not allowed to 'practice' with anyone else."
He winked. "If there's ever a kissing scene, let be the male lead."
Mai blinked, then scoffed. "You're ridiculous…"
Still… her lips curled up in a rare smile.
"…Though I hate to admit it, you do have the face for it. You're not just good-looking—you could actually pass for a real actor."
"Wanna go pro with ?" she asked, half-joking, half-serious.
Nozomi rubbed his chin with exaggerated thought. "Hmm… actually, I do have a story I've been thinking about. How about we perform it together over the holidays?"
Mai's eyes narrowed with intrigue. "Oh? Then pitch it to . But I warn you—if it's a bad script, I'll reject it on the spot!"
"No worries, Senpai. I guarantee you'll fall in love with it."
He cleared his throat dramatically, his voice dipping into a storyteller's cadence.
"It's a tale of red threads, spiritual connection, and the cycle of life and death. A boy and a girl et in their dreams… and fall in love while swapping bodies across ti."
"…The title is Your Na."
He went on to summarize the plot—originally a famous ani film from his previous life. Miyamizu Mitsuha—a shrine maiden born into the family of a rural village head—one day mysteriously began swapping souls with a boy living in the city. That boy's na? Nozomi Takashi.
Of course, that wasn't the na used in the original movie. But Nozomi was far too embarrassed to use his real na for the male lead. So, in true ani protagonist fashion, he tacked on a different character and made it Takashi. It sounded cool enough. Mysterious enough. Slightly cringe, but in a romantic, chuuni way.
He told the story as if it were his own dream—laced with star-crossed longing, celestial red threads, and heartbeats echoing through ti and space.
By the ti he finished, Mai Sakurajima looked as if a shooting star had just streaked across her heart.
"Nozomi... You may be a total pervert," she said, brushing her hair behind one ear with a dramatic flair. "But I have to admit—your talent is the real deal."
Her eyes sparkled. "Hurry up and write the full script. I want to be the heroine!"
Nozomi raised a brow. "Sure, I'll write it—but why do I feel like you're looking forward to it for… suspicious reasons?"
Mai's lips curled mischievously. "Nonsense. I'm just really, really looking forward to your new work~ I swear."
He sighed, playfully exasperated. "Alright, alright. I'll start drafting today. You'll get your script soon, miss actress."
With gentle fingers, he reached out and tousled her silky dark hair. His gaze lingered, drifting along her smooth, fair skin like sunlight through a windowpane.
Then… his thoughts wandered. Just a little.
Mai caught his eyes darkening with that look and imdiately swatted his chest with a pillow. "You're thinking weird things again, aren't you?!"
"You woke up just to try sothing indecent? Geez!"
Still blushing, she pulled the covers tighter around herself. The tips of her ears turned red, betraying her tsundere heart.
"Sorry, sorry!" Nozomi raised his hands in mock surrender. "But can you really bla , Senpai? You're too dangerously cute. Especially when you're half-awake like that."
He leaned closer, whispering like a villain from a shoujo manga. "Rember the bunny girl outfit? That mory alone is a critical hit."
"SHUT UP! Don't you dare ntion that again!"
Before he could say another word, Mai tackled him down, hugging his head and smothering it in her chest. "This is your punishnt! Pervert!"
Nozomi, who had effectively been hit with a very soft, very pleasant headlock, was far from defeated.
If anything, his expression only brightened. He could feel her heartbeat. Sll the faint floral scent of her hair.
He sighed like a man basking in victory. "This morning is the best."
Mai, now red all the way to her collarbone, looked down at him with a complicated expression. Embarrassnt, pride… and a dash of secret joy.
Even if he was annoying—no, because he was annoying—he made her feel like she wasn't just a famous actress or soone fading from mory. He made her feel wanted.
Her mother had once warned her: if she focused only on her career, she'd scare n away. "No one wants a girl too perfect," she had said. "Charm cos from warmth."
But this boy… Nozomi… he didn't seem to want her in spite of her career. He wanted all of her.
He wanted to walk beside her.
"Well," Mai murmured, brushing her hair back again, "I guess if I'm stuck with a junior like you… I might as well make you act with ."
Then, with flushed cheeks, she added, "That's purely for professional reasons! Don't get any weird ideas!"
But Nozomi, still smug, leaned in and whispered, "Too late. I've already decided… if you can't resist , just give yourself to ."
"GO DIE!"
Her karate chop landed squarely on his head. But her face was as red as a tomato now.
"I don't hate the idea of dating soone younger… but I'm not ready yet."
"Then I'll wait," Nozomi said simply, eyes soft.
He cupped her face and kissed her again. Gently. Affectionately.
Mai's heart thudded. His behavior was the worst, yet… she was strangely okay with it.
She was on a pirate ship now. One with no brakes, no anchor, and definitely no escape.
After a final cuddle, Nozomi stood up. There was still another sleepy angel waiting for him.
He returned to his room and knelt by the bed, gently pinching Shiina Mashiro's soft cheek.
"Ti to get up, Mashiro," he whispered.
The blonde girl stirred, blinked twice, then gazed at him with bleary eyes. Slowly, her arms reached out wordlessly.
He smiled and scooped her up under the arms like a plush doll. She nestled against him.
Although Mashiro could dress herself these days, she still preferred to leave everything to Nozomi when he was around. And truthfully, he didn't mind. It was his exclusive morning routine—a daily privilege only he got to enjoy.
After slipping her into a clean outfit, Mashiro tugged at his sleeve. "Milk," she mumbled.
He sighed playfully. "You always want milk first thing."
But looking at her adorable pout, how could he say no?
After handing her a warm glass, he tossed in a bonus: a neatly wrapped Baumkuchen. She bead.
Ever since discovering Mashiro's obsession with the German-style cake, Nozomi made sure to pick up a few whenever he passed the convenience store.
Still, he kept her diet in check. Baumkuchen was dessert—not breakfast. And Mashiro's health ca first, even if she gave him that irresistible "feed sweets" face.
"Eat your proper al first," he reminded her, patting her head. "Then you can have the cake."
Mashiro nodded like a well-trained pet cat. The kind that sotis scratched, but always ca back purring.
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