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[-Continuation-]
[-Two Days Later-]
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[-Yukino's Flat-]
[-Third Person View-]
Seemingly lost in thought, Yukino found herself in her living room, curled up to her knees on the soft sofa while sipping a cup of tea.
It had been two whole days since she had been to school - courtesy of her sister Haruno's insistence, who had pulled some strings under the guise of 'family bonding.'
But Yukino wasn't naive - she knew it was an excuse for Haruno to pry into her relationship with Hachiman more than anything else.
She had only gotten back to her place around noon today, after bidding her family goodbye.
Throughout her absence, she had kept up a particular act with Hachiman, responding to all his messages with variations of the same theme - I am a bit angry, so don't try to contact me for a while.
It was precise, direct, and just enough to make him second guess himself. That was exactly what she wanted.
Truth be told, she wasn't really mad.
She just wanted to see how Hachiman would handle her little not-silent treatment.
Maybe Haruno's love for messing with people was rubbing off on her after all.
As the moonlight streamed through her room, Yukino stayed by her favorite window spot, tea in hand, thinking about how their conversation about the game had gotten cut short.
She could just picture Hachiman right now, probably overthinking everything like he always did.
It was kind of nice having him be the confused one for once, and part of her wanted to savor the moment.
Looking at all his messages on her phone, each one met with the same cold shoulder, she let out a sigh.
She couldn't keep this up forever, and honestly, it wasn't really fair.
He had been interrupted before he could explain the situation fully.
The memory of his half complete explanation still lingered in her mind.
–buzz(:incoming call)
Her phone buzzed, but this time it wasn't just another text – it was an actual call.
Yukino glanced at the screen but didn't answer.
Instead, something pulled her toward her front door, abandoning her tea on the coffee table as if the buzz came from the calling door rather than her phone.
Call it a hunch, or maybe just knowing Hachiman too well, but she had a feeling about why he had suddenly decided to call after two days of radio silence.
So despite without prior notice, she was expecting him, and now there was a sudden feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her it was him.
–click
Sure enough, when she opened the door, there stood Hachiman, looking slightly out of breath.
His hair was all over the place, and his eyes were darting around like he was expecting some kind of trap.
Classic Hachiman.
His eyes darted between her and the apartment behind her, as if unsure of what to expect next.
Meanwhile, Hachiman was getting an eyeful, too.
Yukino knew she probably looked far from her usual put-together self.
Her hair was messy from running her fingers through it too many times, and her cream sweater had slipped off one shoulder, leaving her collarbone exposed to the cool evening air.
She watched Hachiman's throat work as he swallowed before managing a rough.
"Hey."
"You are late." She stated calmly, though she couldn't help the small flicker of amusement that danced in her eyes.
"Late?" Hachiman looked completely lost. "I wasn't... wait, what?"
Ignoring his bewilderment, she stepped aside, letting him in.
He walked in cautiously, his expression hovering between relief and confusion, all while scanning the room as though expecting some kind of ambush.
While Yukino closed the door behind them, Hachiman took forever untying his shoes.
Whether it was stalling or just nerves, even he wasn't sure.
As the silence hung in the air, Hachiman could smell a faint scent of jasmine wafted from within - Yukino's favorite tea, no doubt.
"You have been replying to my messages, but..." He began, his voice softening as uncertainty crept in. "What did I do?"
The words felt empty as they left his lips, echoing in the quiet entryway. Even as he said it, Hachiman knew it was a stupid question.
What exactly was he supposed to complain about?
She hadn't exactly ghosted him - far from it.
Every single message he had sent had gotten a response.
The problem was, the message itself - the same message, over and over again.
Rising from his crouched position by his shoes, which he arranged neatly against the wall, Hachiman could feel the weight of Yukino's gaze on his back.
The silence stretched between them like a rubber band, ready to snap.
When he turned around, she was exactly as he would have expected - arms folded loosely across her chest, one eyebrow raised in that particular way that always made him feel like he was missing something obvious.
"You really don't know?"
The oversized cream sweater she wore bunched up at her elbows, making her look somehow softer, less like the ice queen everyone thought her to be.
It was these little moments of vulnerability that always caught him off guard.
Hachiman met her steady gaze, his mind frantically flipping through recent memories - however, nothing stood out as particularly out of place.
Sure, he had been busy with work, his fingers flying over the keyboard of his laptop late into the night, but he had always made time to text back or sometimes even initiate.
Granted, those initiations were lackluster, to say the least, and maybe even a bit... repetitive.
He scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable under her scrutiny and guessed. "It is about the game, isn't it?"
Yukino's lips pressed into a thin line, her voice steady. "Yes, that would be it. Why didn't you tell me?"
He sighed again, rubbing his neck as if it might help him think. "It wasn't that big of a deal, honestly. I didn't think it was worth mentioning."
"Not a big deal?" Yukino's voice carried that particular edge he knew too well. "Haruno seemed to think otherwise."
?!The mention of her sister's name made him flinch.
They stood there, exactly five feet apart - him backed by the open expanse of her apartment, her with the closed door at her back, like some weird standoff in a western movie.
"She always does." He muttered, barely loud enough to hear, before meeting her eyes again.
Something in Yukino's expression softened then, like ice beginning to thaw.
She stepped forward, uncrossing her arms and reaching out to touch his sleeve.
Her fingers were delicate yet firm, anchoring him to the spot as surely as if she had used steel cables.
His eyes dropped to where she held him, not pulling, just holding - her way of saying this conversation wasn't over yet.
"You are being a bit of a kid right now..." The words came out soft, without any real accusation behind them.
His breath carried the familiar scent of MAX coffee, probably his third can of the day.
He shifted closer, barely half an inch, but her fingers still clung to his sleeve, as though she wasn't ready to let him off the hook just yet.
"...and if I remember correctly." He continued, closing what little space remained between them.
With the hand she still held captive, he wrapped his arm around her wrist and pulled her into a gentle hug.
Their faces were just inches apart now that he could count the tiny freckles scattered across her- the ones you would never notice unless you knew exactly where to look.
His free hand came up, its rough fingers surprisingly delicate as they caught a stray strand of her hair.
He wound it around his index finger, savoring its silk-like texture, before tucking it carefully behind her ear.
Yukino didn't even flinch at the sudden, close intimacy.
"I was going to tell you, you know." He said, his voice dropping low enough that she had to lean in to catch it. "Got halfway there, even. But then my old man showed up on that bus out of nowhere, and well..."
He let the words trail off, still caught up in the memory of that weird afternoon – the stuffy bus air, his father's whatever expression, and that incredibly awkward silence that followed.
Yukino raised an eyebrow - a gesture of both question and challenge.
"You had plenty of chances after that, you realize." She retorted, her tone light but laced with an unmistakable hint of childlike stubbornness.
"Yeah, yeah." He acknowledged, a rueful grin spreading across his face. "In fact, I was all set to spill the beans that very night when you called."
His thumb started drawing little circles on her waist – one of those unconscious habits he had picked up somewhere along the way.
Yukino didn't seem to mind, though her eyes stayed fixed on his face, that mix of curiosity and suspicion he knew so well playing across her features.
Her breath, warm and sweet from the tea she had been drinking, mingled with him in the small space between them.
"But then." Hachiman continued, his tone taking on a playful lilt. "Someone decided to multitask by hopping into the bath mid-conversation. Kind of hard to focus on serious topics when you are trying not to imagine–!"
Yukino's cheeks went pink as the memory hit her.
Her hand, which had been resting on his chest, balled up into a tiny fist and gave him a light punch.
"Ow!" He yelped, playing it up even though they both knew it hadn't hurt.
His grin sort of gave him away, anyway.
He caught her hand before she could pull it back, keeping it pressed right where his heart was doing its best to beat out of his chest.
Yukino cleared her throat, trying to get her composure back.
"That's hardly a valid excuse." She protested weakly, her eyes darting away from him for a moment before being drawn back.
"And besides." She added, narrowing her eyes slightly at him. "You certainly find ample time to tease me about that... incident."
She tilted her head, and this one stubborn strand of her dark hair fell across her face. "Didn't you?"
"Guilty as charged." He admitted, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate in the scant space between them. "But in my defense, it's not every day I get such prime teasing material."
The pink in Yukino's cheeks spread to her ears, and she let out this little huff that was trying really hard to sound annoyed but came out more amused than anything.
She pulled back a bit, taking her hand back from his sleeve, but her face had gone soft around the edges.
"Next time, just tell me first."
"Right." His nod carried the weight of promise. "I will."
A smile, small but genuine, graced her features – the first flag of truce. "Good. You can make amends tonight."
Confusion furrowed his brow. "How so?"
"Dinner." She declared. "You will explain everything over a proper meal."
Hachiman studied her, still processing her sudden shift in tone. "Wait, so you weren't actually that mad?"
Her eyes got that sparkly look they sometimes did. "Oh, I was. But I suppose I can let it slide. This time."
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Guess I owe you one, then."
"You do." She agreed, matching his smile with a small one of her own. "And Hachiman? Don't make me send the same text twice again."
A soft chuckle escaped him as he rose to stand beside her. "I will do my utmost."
She savored the subtle relief in his expression, a private victory warming her heart.
For now, she could let it go.
After all, he was her boyfriend, and sometimes… A little confrontation wasn't so bad.
Yukino slipped out of his arms with the grace she did everything else, her fingers trailing down until they caught him.
With a gentle pull that was more suggestion than demand, she started heading for the living room.
Hachiman, being Hachiman, just went with it. Some battles aren't worth fighting, especially when they involve Yukino leading him somewhere.
The moment they hit the living room, she let go of his hand and made a beeline for the kitchenette, leaving him to flop onto their ridiculously comfortable couch with a content oof.
His eyes landed on a forgotten teacup sitting on the coffee table, still about half full.
Without really thinking it through - which, let's be honest, was usually how he got himself into trouble - he grabbed it.
"Hey, Yukitty." He called out, using that nickname that always made her pretend to be annoyed but secretly pleased.
Her voice drifted back from whatever she was doing in the kitchen. "...What is it?"
"Thanks for the tea?" He made it sound like both a statement and a question, like someone remembering their manners way too late.
"..." The chopping sounds from the kitchen stopped for a beat.
"Okay...?" Yukino's response was tinged with confusion, her attention clearly divided.
Hachiman lifted the cup, ready to take a sip like he had done countless times before. The action was so routine, he didn't think twice.
Suddenly, Yukino's voice cut through the quiet air, sharp and urgent. "Wait!"
He froze mid-sip, blinking in her direction, but it was too late. The realization that dawned in her voice had already been overtaken by action.
"It should be cold by now..." Her warning came floating in from the kitchen, mixing concern with that 'I-knew-this-would-happen' tone she had mastered so well.
But it wasn't just the temperature that prompted her sudden disapproval. The thought had hit her almost simultaneously.
She had already drunk half of it, if he drank from the same cup, wouldn't that be... an indirect kiss?
The idea left her momentarily flustered, her heart skipping a beat, though she tried to mask it behind her usual calm.
But Hachiman's brain-to-mouth coordination had already failed him, and the cold liquid hit his tongue like a brick wall.
"Agggaa..."
The sound he made was probably not in any known language.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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