Chương 182: 69. First Taste 2

"So you're admitting it," she said. I blinked.

"Admitting what?"

"You said it yourself." Her tone stayed perfectly level.

"That I took you up a mountain on a date."

"..." I walked straight into that. Of course I did. Maki doesn't interrupt, doesn't fight for the floor—she just waits until you've finished digging the hole yourself, finds the right angle, and kicks you in. I cleared my throat, attempting damage control.

"I was extrapolating from context."

"Mm."

"Extrapolation isn't confirmation."

"Okay."

"That 'okay' sounds incredibly dismissive."

"Because you're stalling."

"..." I lost. Cleanly and completely. I turned back to the view and let the city lights do what they could for my completely transparent emotional state. Then Maki said:"Hoshino."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for bringing me here today." I looked at her. She stood beside me, helmet in her arms, expression softer than before. Not the sharp precision she used to sort everything during the day. Not the surgical calm she'd deployed on Jess. Just—genuine. She was thanking me and she meant it. That hit harder than almost anything else today. Because Maki doesn't do courtesy. When she says thank you, it means the thing mattered, and she's filed that importance somewhere she'll remember.

I opened my mouth, had something almost cool ready—it was nothing—and what came out instead was:"I'm more worried about whether you'd want to ride with me again." Something flickered in her eyes, very quietly.

"I would." She answered too fast. So fast it stunned me. She probably heard it herself—the directness, no cushioning. The tips of her ears slowly went red in the lamplight. But she didn't take it back, didn't reach for a qualifier, didn't add if the route makes sense or anything else to soften it. She just stood there. And looked at me. The wind kept moving. The city stayed lit. The Yukikaze sat in its harbor. Traffic on the bridges flowed like a river of light that was never going to stop.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators! But I suddenly felt like the whole world had gone unreasonably quiet. I was very aware that if someone told me right now that what happened next would change a lot of things—I wouldn't doubt it for a second. Because the atmosphere had already walked us here. No going back. I said quietly:"Maki."

"Mm."

"You've been breaking the rules all day." She didn't pretend not to understand. Just asked, very softly:"Which part?"

"All of it." I looked at her.

"At the showroom. Blocking the free bike. Sitting behind me today. Everything on the way up here. And—" I stopped. My throat had gone inexplicably dry.

"And right now. Standing here, looking at me like that." Her eyes widened, just slightly. The wind lifted the ends of her hair and took most of my remaining stubbornness with it. I'd expected something dramatic after that. Someone looking away, a quiet don't say things like that, or the classic three seconds of silence before the world detonated. None of that happened. Maki just stepped forward. Half a step. The distance collapsed. Close enough that I could see her lashes tremble.

Close enough to see the tension in her face, amplified by the night and the light together. Close enough to realize—she wasn't any calmer than I was. Oh. Something in me went loose with relief. Not mockery—more like ah, so you're like this too.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked, very quietly.

"Nothing." I closed the last distance too, voice dropping without thinking.

"Just realized you've been acting steady all day and you're not actually doing any better than me right now." She pressed her lips together.

"The fact that you still have the nerve to say that means I haven't gone too far."

"You took me up a mountain. How is that not too far?"

"You drove."

"… This really isn't the moment for precise attribution." Something moved in her eyes. Then, slowly, she raised her hand. I held my breath—pure instinct. When her fingers touched the side of my face, the warmth was more real than the night air. Not a sudden gesture. Not the kind that corners you. More like a question. Like she just needed to confirm: you're actually here, you're not going to step back, you're letting me do this. I didn't step back. That probably said everything. She leaned in closer.

I could hear my own heartbeat. Too loud. Loud enough that one more centimeter and it would've simply thrown itself out of my chest and confessed on my behalf.

"Hoshino," she said, low.

"Yeah."

"Are you still going to call this supplementary visual reconnaissance?" I looked at her face, right there, and felt the last of the argument leave me.

"… No." The corner of her mouth curved, just barely. Then she kissed me. It wasn't cinematic. The moon didn't rearrange itself into a backdrop. No orchestral swell. The first kiss was just quiet. Soft. Close. Tentative—and underneath that, a tremor that said I know I shouldn't be this nervous, and I can't stop it anyway. Which was exactly why it wrecked me. The last thin thread of my rational mind had just enough time to register: oh, so this is actually happening.

Then she touched me and that thread burned through. I closed my eyes. At some point my hand came up and caught the front of her jacket—a fistful of fabric—like I needed something to hold onto, or like I was afraid she'd pull back. She didn't pull back. She stayed close after, forehead almost against mine, breathing as unsteady as mine. Neither of us spoke. Because the moment one of us spoke, that thin, fragile, very real thing between us would get punctured by words. But silence had its own problem.

Because in the silence I had to sit with the full weight of it: I just kissed Maki. No—we kissed. On a mountain. In front of the whole city at night. On the same day the Yukikaze and its secondary school dungeon expansion were still lodged in my brain. On the first night I'd officially taken her anywhere. The combination was so absurd that if I looked back on it later, I'd probably wonder if I'd hallucinated the whole thing. But it was real. I opened my eyes slowly. Maki was looking at me.

Face flushed, not looking away. Unfairly beautiful. That was the only way to put it. Two more seconds of this and I wasn't going to make it back to No. 22 tonight. I'd just dissolve on the spot. I spoke first. Voice a little rough, embarrassingly warm.

"…Every time I ride this bike now, I'm going to think about tonight." She looked at me for a moment. Then answered, completely seriously:"Good."

"What does that mean?"

"What it sounds like."

"Which is?"

"That you'll think of tonight." She held my gaze, ears still red, voice steadier than before.

"That's not a bad thing." I nearly came apart all over again. Ruthless. Absolutely ruthless. She never strikes until she can hit the exact spot where you have no defense left. I pressed a hand to my forehead and laughed, low.

"Maki."

"Mm?"

"You're genuinely dangerous." This time she didn't deny it. She just stood there and turned with me to look out over the city, still burning below.