Hypnos, the god of sleep, might not be welcod among the gods, but he always manages to turn danger into safety.
His ability to lull anyone into slumber—god or mortal—is irresistible.
Even those cursed by the goddess of fate could still, in the quiet of night, dream of the finest white bread.
Ti never bends to anyone's will. The two of them stayed locked in each other's arms, even after the last tomato was gone.
From the stew pot, the llow sweetness of papaya blended with the creamy aroma of milk, curling upward in soft white steam, drifting lazily into their noses.
Sakura's arms were looped tightly around Kyousuke from under his arms.
Even though the cooking was done, she showed no intention of letting go—just breathing deeply, drawing that familiar scent into her lungs over and over, letting it awaken old mories.
"Dinner's practically begging to jump into Sakura's stomach," Kyousuke teased, rubbing the small hands clasped around his waist.
"But I'm not done hugging you yet~"
With her face pressed against his back, she swayed her head, acting spoiled, hoping to delay the inevitable.
Kyousuke smiled, turned off the stove, and turned around. Lowering his head, he planted a light kiss on her forehead, then slipped one arm around her waist and bent down.
With the other arm hooking behind her knees, he lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
"Hey~! I'm not going to bed yet!"
Sakura gave a token kick with her legs, protesting, but her soft, slender arms obediently curled around his neck, her body leaning in to make it easier for him to hold her.
"Not bedti—handwashing," Kyousuke said dryly.
"Ahhh, so now you're saying I'm dirty~ Kyousuke's starting to dislike ," she wailed dramatically.
"One day you'll see I never dislike you. But for now—wash your hands." He leaned down and bumped his forehead lightly against hers.
"Hmph. I want to see that now!"
Sakura straightened her upper body and peppered his face with quick little kisses like raindrops, leaving him glistening with her saliva.
Kyousuke didn't mind in the slightest.
During one of her pauses, he leaned in and gave her cheek a slow, exaggerated lick, saring her face with his own saliva.
"Ewww! Kyousuke, now I'm the one who doesn't like you!"
She squealed, lifting a hand and poking her finger toward her cheek—only to freeze in comical indecision.
"Ouch, my heart… Sakura actually dislikes ," Kyousuke laughed.
But he barely had two seconds to enjoy it before she struck back—licking him from chin to forehead, even making sure not to miss his eyes and eyebrows.
"Hehe~ I never wait to get my revenge," she grinned proudly.
Kyousuke blinked hard, feeling his eyelashes stick together from all the saliva.
"You dummy… I bet you drooled that much because of the sll of the food," he muttered.
"Idiot! Haven't I been hugging the most delicious dish in the world? If I hadn't been keeping my mouth shut, my drool would've soaked your shirt by now!"
Then she gasped in mock surprise.
"Wait! The delicious dish is carrying right now!"
Kyousuke chuckled and shook his head.
He'd told her plenty of whimsical tales about a kingdom of food—where milk and wheat got married and had pancakes, or pineapple and sticky rice beca pineapple rice—with blenders and grills officiating the weddings.
"But still… why carry all the way to the sink? It's just a few steps away," she asked, tilting her face up with wide, innocent eyes.
Before he could answer, she grinned knowingly.
"Ohhh~ I get it. Kyousuke just can't bear to put down."
"Tsk tsk, so clingy. You should learn to be a little more independent, you know."
She traced his cheek with her fingertip, up and down.
"Sakura's an angel," Kyousuke said with a smile. "Her feet never touch the ground. But because she gave up her powers for , I have to take responsibility."
"Ooh! I'm an angel?" she laughed, then burst into giggles, leaning in to lick his face again.
Feeling that warm, slippery sensation on his skin, Kyousuke's face twitched.
He was starting to suspect this silly girl had found herself a new hobby.
Note to self: wash my face more often. And keep wet wipes on hand for ergencies.
From the kitchen to the bathroom was only a short walk, but sohow, the two of them took a lifeti to get there.
Once inside, Kyousuke set her down in front of the sink and turned to go serve the food—but she yanked him right back.
"Wash your hands before eating!" she scolded, pulling him in front of her and guiding his hands under the faucet.
"Wasn't it you who said I couldn't even bear to let you walk two steps? And now you won't let wash my own hands?" Kyousuke teased as she lathered his hands with soap.
"Yup. I don't even want to be away from you for a second," she answered cheerfully, her voice crisp and sure.
"Idiot. Wash properly."
Resting his chin in the crook of her neck, Kyousuke switched to the offensive—his big hands covering her delicate ones, guiding them through slow, deliberate motions.
Under the warm golden light, his palms slid over the backs of her hands, between her fingers, rubbing the soap into every space.
He turned her hands over, palms together, sliding up and down, the white foam squeezing out between them.
One by one, he cleaned each finger, making sure every speck of dirt under her nails was gone.
Then he turned on the water, cupping her hands and letting the clear stream wash all the foam away.
Sakura leaned her head lazily against his.
When he leaned on her shoulder, she pressed her head against his in return.
When she saw him pumping out more soap again, she couldn't help but laugh.
"The food's going to get cold, you know~"
She'd lost count of how many tis they'd washed by now. Her hands felt like they'd been scrubbed raw.
"Ahem. This is how seriously you should wash your hands," Kyousuke said solemnly, though he finally reached for a towel.
This ti, before he could finish, Sakura wrapped her arms around his neck again and lifted one leg—her silent signal to "pick up."
He didn't carry her to the table.
Instead, he returned to the very beginning—the edge of the living room, the place bathed in the brightest moonlight.
When the papaya-milk stew was finally ladled into a brown, flower-patterned wooden bowl, Kyousuke stepped out of the kitchen to find Sakura sitting there, knees hugged to her chest, wrapped in a thin blanket.
A tiny figure sat bundled up in a blue knitted blanket, with only her head peeking out. Her head tilted slightly to one side, as if gazing at sothing unseen.
From behind, you could only make out one delicate ear and the smooth curve of her cheek.
The deeper the night grew, the colder it beca.
Seeing Sakura sitting there alone, Kyousuke suddenly felt a strange pang of worry.
Carrying a bowl, he quickly walked over.
Hearing his footsteps, Yamauchi Sakura turned her head.
Tilting her face upward, she gave Kyousuke a bright smile and opened the blanket with one hand.
"Co on, get in! The heat's escaping!" she urged softly.
Kyousuke couldn't help but smile.
The odd feeling in his chest vanished without a trace.
He quickly slipped inside, pulling the blanket tight around them both.
Before he could even hand her the bowl, Sakura opened her mouth wide.
"Ah~ Hurry up! Feed , like you do Yukari-sensei!"
Kyousuke closed his mouth without a word, scooped up a papaya ball, and blew on it.
Sakura popped three bright orange papaya balls into her mouth one after another, her cheeks puffing out adorably.
Luckily, the fruit had been simred until soft, lting into a sweet fragrance at the slightest bite.
"Mmm~ This is so good~~" she murmured, cupping one cheek with her hand, her voice brimming with bliss.
"As expected, food tastes better when it's fed to by Kyousuke! Honestly, why was I so stupid as a kid? I should've used this to blackmail you!"
She complained with mock frustration, then broke into a sunny smile.
"Must've been because I'm just too kind."
Kyousuke laughed out loud.
Just like she'd said before— even if the world held only the two of them, she would never feel lonely.
Even if he didn't say a word, she could entertain herself… and, in turn, make him laugh.
"By the way, Kyousuke… I think Yukino's taste has already returned," Sakura said with a mischievous glint, swallowing another bite of papaya and a spoonful of milk. "Though you must have figured that out already."
"Yeah."
He nodded. It wasn't strange she knew—when Yukino was alone with the girls, she ate normally.
She hadn't been hiding it from him, just holding onto that special bond they shared.
"Otherwise, with your personality, you would've gathered the world's greatest doctors to cure her by now," Sakura teased, leaning down to blow gently at the milk in the bowl.
"That would only make Yukino flustered," Kyousuke replied with a soft smile.
"Liar." Her voice was just as soft, though her head remained lowered.
He simply smiled without answering, tilting the bowl slightly so she could drink more easily.
"Alright, now it's my turn to feed you!" Snatching the bowl from him, Sakura grinned.
"I'll teach you, Mister Proud, that the taste of food isn't in the skill—it's in the heart!"
She struck a pose.
"Heart! Even if I just sat here holding you without doing any of the cooking myself, my feelings have seeped into this papaya. And when I feed it to you with these love-filled hands, it becos the taste of happiness!"
Sakura's proclamation was t with Kyousuke opening his mouth wide, just as she had earlier.
She eyed the bowl with laser focus, carefully scooped up a papaya ball, and lightly touched it with her lips to check the temperature—perfect for his sensitive tongue—before offering it to him.
Watching him chew exaggeratedly, she still asked with eager anticipation, even though she knew how good his cooking was.
"Well? How is it?!"
"Super~ Delicious!" Kyousuke gave a dramatic thumbs-up. "It's like it's been enchanted!"
"Hehehe, see? I told you!" Sakura laughed.
In truth, she hadn't cast a spell to make the food taste better. She'd cast a spell to make a lie co true.
The taste of food wouldn't change depending on who held the spoon—but love was different.
Even a childish lie like 'it tastes better' could beco true when love was there, turning every flavor into sweetness.
Brimming with joy, she bumped her shoulder hard against his, still holding the bowl.
Taking a sip of papaya milk, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, passing the sweet mixture—now mingled with her own taste—into his mouth.
"Well? Even better now?" Her face was flushed, eyes shimring with a sultry mist.
"Mm. Of course." Kyousuke pulled the blanket tighter around them both.
He didn't know if it was the blanket's warmth, the energy from the milk, or simply the comfort of holding each other, but neither felt the cold.
The boy and girl sat there, curled together under a blanket that was neither too big nor too small, slowly finishing the bowl of papaya.
Yet instead of quenching their thirst, the rich, sweet milk only left their mouths drier.
When the brown wooden bowl was finally set aside, Sakura curled up completely against Kyousuke's chest.
His arms wrapped around her waist, hands gently resting atop her small hands, which lay on her soft stomach.
The blanket cocooned them, only their heads exposed.
Her head rested against his chest, his firm muscles the most comfortable pillow in the world.
Under the moonlight, her amber eyes seed like gemstones—brilliant, radiant.
"Kyousuke… do you rember the first ti we went to the cherry blossom festival?" she asked, her gaze drifting toward a bare cherry tree.
"I rember." His chin rested lightly on her head, eyes following hers to the leafless branches.
"What was I like back then?" she pressed.
"The sa as now." Just as he'd told her before—though ti and the world might change, they would not.
"What's that supposed to an? Small? Smart? Cute?" She asked in a leading tone, practically giving him the answer she wanted.
"Dazzling," Kyousuke said softly.
"The current is dazzling," she said matter-of-factly.
"You were dazzling then too."
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