I woke up feeling... weird.
Warm.
Soft.
Like a fluffy pillow decided to breathe.
Wait—breathe?
I opened one eye.
And saw Sora.
Not the usual, snarky, sharp-tongued Sora.
This was... sleep-Sora. Peaceful. Her head rested just below my chin, one leg casually thrown over mine, her breath soft against my chest. She even drooled a little.
My brain scread. My soul did a backflip. My heart did CPR on itself.
Why is she in my bed?!
I tried to sit up—mistake. Her arms wrapped tighter around like a sleepy python. She murmured, "Mmm... warm..."
Warm my foot—this was a death sentence waiting to be served on a flaming platter of jealousy.
Because right there, standing at the foot of my bed, were Elira, Akane, and i.
Murder in their eyes.
Actual murder. Like, homicide-level-staring-contest kind of murder.
No one said anything.
"Okay, okay, wait! I can explain—" I began, throwing up my hands as three won stood at the door like judges at a public execution.
Akane’s brow twitched.
Elira’s arms were folded so tight her knuckles were white.
i... i was oddly calm. Too calm. Which was worse.
I shifted nervously, still lying flat on my back... with Sora curled into like a bad cat-shaped landmine.
And she was snoring.
Softly.
Audibly.
Also, my right hand was resting sowhere very soft.
I looked down slowly.
Then froze.
Nope. That was not a pillow.
It was... Sora.
Specifically, Sora’s chest.
Elira’s glare darkened to full-on demonic shadow mode.
"Explain? You want to explain why your hand is groping Sora while we were up making breakfast for you, His Majesty?"
"Okay, first of all," I said, lifting my left hand like it was a fragile legal exhibit, "I thought she was a pillow. It was dark. I was cold. I reached out—boom. Pillow."
Akane blinked. "She’s breathing."
"Breathing pillows are the future! Very innovative! Maybe she’s a magic item!"
"She’s drooling on your chest."
"That’s... that’s condensation!"
That one nearly broke i. She made a tiny squeaky sound—might’ve been laughter, might’ve been rage-induced aneurysm.
Sora stirred beside , mumbled sothing about takoyaki, and snuggled even closer—her hand now stretched lazily over my stomach like she was protecting a bento box.
I couldn’t move. One wrong twitch and she’d wake up and scream—possibly explode.
I tried again, desperate now. "This is just a... a misunderstanding. Like... like a slice-of-life ani filler episode, you know?"
Elira tilted her head. "Slice of life? You’re about to be sliced."
Akane cracked her knuckles. "Did you grope her?"
"I—No—I an, yes? But not on purpose!"
"Did you cuddle her?"
"Define ’cuddle’ in like... emotional or anatomical terms?"
"Elira, get the rope," Akane deadpanned.
"Waitwaitwait!" I waved both hands frantically while ntally trying to levitate away. "Last night was chaos! We were all exhausted! She must’ve wandered into my room and collapsed! I was unconscious! My body just reacted! I didn’t know it was her!"
i narrowed her eyes. "You always call Sora a gremlin. Now you’re caressing her like a body pillow."
"She’s attacked emotionally and physically for weeks! Maybe this is Stockholm syndro!"
"She’s literally holding you like a teddy bear."
"She has warm... very warm... arms."
As if on cue, Sora yawned—loudly—and gripped my shirt like a sleepy child hugging their plushie for dear life.
"Mmm... you sll nice... like fried noodles..."
i’s eyes sharpened. "We’re cooking eggs."
"Right. That’s what I ant."
Silence.
Dead. Awkward. Silence.
Then—
Sniff.
Elira frowned. "Wait... do you guys sll that?"
i’s eyes widened. "The eggs!"
Akane gasped. "THE PAN!"
They bolted.
All three of them practically shoved each other trying to escape the room. I heard a chair crash over, soone yell "WHY IS THERE MAYO IN THE FRIDGE DOOR?!" and sothing tallic fall with a dramatic clang.
I stared at the ceiling.
Sora snored again.
Still drooling.
Still hugging .
Still using as the world’s warst electric blanket.
I sighed.
"My last monts will be embarrassing. Not even heroic. Just... death by snuggle suffocation."
I was still frozen.
Sora blinked awake, squinted up at .
Then, she realized it.
We were too close.
I was touching sothing.
Her face turned crimson in one second flat.
She yanked herself off the bed, flailing. "W-WHY WAS I—WHY DID YOU—?!"
"I THOUGHT YOU WERE A PILLOW!"
"WHO CUDDLES A PILLOW THAT HARD?!"
"People with trauma!"
Before either of us could say more, Elira stord in, coughing from the smoke.
"Next ti, maybe don’t seduce people while we’re making breakfast!"
"I didn’t seduce anyone!" I shouted.
Akane followed, waving smoke out. "The eggs are dead. Just like your chances of surviving today."
i, holding a charred pan, muttered, "What did those eggs ever do to you, Sora?"
Sora pointed at , "It was his bed! I was—! I—!"
They weren’t listening.
No one was listening.
Except my phone.
Which dinged.
I grabbed it in desperation.
[ssage from Aya]
> "Do you rember what you said to that night?"
No.
No, I didn’t.
> "You said... you wanted to stay the night."
My heart stopped.
And then it dinged again.
> "Is that offer still open?"
"...Aya?" I muttered, barely above a whisper.
And then I felt it—emptiness.
Sora was no longer curled against .
My arms were around air.
I looked to my side. Nothing. Just the faint heat of where she’d been. The dip in the blanket already rising without her weight.
I sat up. Sothing in the air had shifted. Heavier.
Voices.
I turned.
And froze.
They were all there.
Sora. i. Elira. Akane.
All standing in my room.
All staring at like I’d just set fire to their collective souls.
No one spoke at first. The tension was thick—dense like fog before a supernatural murder.
Then i stepped forward, arms crossed. Her voice cold. "Aya huh?"
My phone buzzed again in my hand.
I didn’t look. I didn’t have to.
The timing was perfect in the worst way.
Akane raised a brow. "You sleep with Sora and text your soone else in the sa breath?"
"I didn’t text her—she texted !" I blurted. "I didn’t even reply!"
"Yet," Elira added sharply.
Sora was quiet. Too quiet. She wasn’t looking at . Her arms were folded across her chest like a barrier, face unreadable.
"I woke up," she finally said. "You were holding ."
She looked up, eyes dull.
"Felt nice. Safe."
Then her jaw tensed. "And then I see that na on your phone?"
I tried to speak. To explain.
But my voice cracked.
"It’s not what it—"
"No," i interrupted. "Don’t say it. Don’t give us the classic ’it’s not what it looks like.’ We’re not characters in your drama."
"I didn’t even know she was going to ssage !"
"And yet," Akane muttered again, "she did."
My phone dinged once more. The sound echoed like a gunshot.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Except Sora—who turned on her heel and walked to the door.
"Sora—wait—" I stood, instinctively.
She paused. Just once.
Then said quietly, "I wish you hadn’t held like that... if your heart was sowhere else."
She left.
And just like that—one by one—the others followed.
No yelling.
No hitting.
Just silence.
The worst kind.
I stood there alone, still holding my phone.
Screen still glowing.
ssage still waiting.
> "Is that offer still open?"
And for the first ti...
I didn’t know what to say.
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