Chapter 7 | The Enchanting Pajama Apron

July faded into August, yet my routine of visiting Makura’s apartment remained unchanged.

I pressed the doorbell, catching the faint patter of footsteps hurrying down the short hallway. The door swung open.

“Yo… you look as sleepy as ever,” I said, a wry smile tugging at my lips.

Makura stood there, her eyes bleary as usual. “…I mean, I just woke up…”

She rubbed her eyes, mumbling in her flax-colored satin pajamas. As I stepped into the entryway, she shuffled back down the hall, and I followed. The cool breeze from the air conditioner enveloped me, instantly soothing the sweat on my skin.

“You’ve been sleeping this whole time?” I asked, glancing at the slightly rumpled sheets on her bed. A stack of nearly ten manga volumes, ones she’d been reading before drifting off, lay scattered near her pillow.

“Yeah…… just woke up.”

“……Morning.”

“Good morning,” she replied. “Though, before you started coming over, I’d sleep way later every day.”

After a quick chat with Mr. Kumada at school and grabbing makeup assignments, I’d head here, usually arriving just past 10 a.m. Sleeping later than that would mean nearly noon.

Makura plopped onto the bed and flopped sideways. “No point waking up early anyway.”

“They say the early bird gets the worm.”

“That’s a lie. Wake up early, and you’ve gotta eat breakfast, right? That’s a total waste.”

“Well… yeah, I guess…” I conceded. Makura had mentioned before that lunch doubles as her breakfast. To think a famous proverb could be debunked so easily.

“Still, since you’re nice enough to show up, I make an effort to wake up early.”

“O-Oh. Thanks for that…”

“So, let’s get to gaming!” she declared.

“Hey.” I’d been caught off guard, thanking her for her “effort,” but if she’s trying, she should tackle her assignments…

When I pulled out the worksheets I’d brought, Makura yelped and dove under her blanket.

“Don’t you think it’s time to tackle those? It’s getting risky.”

If she hadn’t touched them since summer break started, they’d probably piled up significantly.

“This is seriously bad,” I pressed.

Makura peeked out from the blanket. “Fine. I just woke up, so let’s game until my brain kicks in.”

“…Then assignments?”

She nodded vigorously. “Alright, deal.”

The moment I agreed, she sprang from the blanket. “Sweet! What’ll we play today? Join me, Manamichi-kun! Oh, maybe we should play that RPG from yesterday? I couldn’t solve that puzzle alone last night, so let’s figure it out together.”

She flicked on the console, deftly navigating the controller, grabbing drinks and chocolate during the loading screen, and leaning back on the cushion the moment it finished—peak efficiency.

……Makura, your brain’s already in gear, isn’t it?

＊

Before I realized it, evening had crept in.

Watching Makura’s RPG, racing her in a game, or battling in a falling-block puzzle game—time slipped away quickly.

“Feels like we leapt through time…” I muttered.

Makura grinned slyly. “Feeling that means you’ve leveled up again. You’re enjoying the shut-in life, Manamichi-kun.”

Maybe she was right.

At first, I’d nagged her about assignments, but I ended up forgetting them, sucked into the games. She might’ve cleverly sidetracked me, too.

Setting down the controller and stretching with a sigh, Makura tilted her head. “Huh, we’re pretty chill today. It’s getting late, though.”

“Yeah, no cram school classes tonight.”

Since I started coming here, I’d only used the study room briefly between evening and class time. My self-study hours had plummeted—definitely because of this shut-in life with Makura. With no classes, there was no rush to the study room.

As I mulled it over, Makura dropped a bombshell. “Got it… Why not just skip classes normally?”

“Nah, that’s…”

“What?”

Cram school classes taught problem-solving tricks and extra info you couldn’t get from prep or review alone. Skipping felt like a waste.

…No, honestly, I’d never even considered skipping—not just for the class content.

Ultimately, I’m only slacking within limits that won’t derail my studies. Thinking about it, that might not even count as true depravity.

“If I skip class, the school would call my parents to check. Unless my parents call to let them know,” I said.

“Oh, that’s a thing?” Makura tilted her head. “…Are your parents strict?”

“Yeah, pretty strict.”

My mom’s face flashed in my mind, that familiar crease etched between her brows.

“Hmm…” Makura studied my face, then sighed and slumped sideways onto the cushion.

I followed her lead, leaning against the cushion and resting my head on the bed.

We both fell into a quiet daze for a moment.

It’s getting late. I should probably head to the study room… but after slacking off like this, I can’t muster the energy. Going home early, though, would just mean walking into predictable trouble.

Man, these cool sheets feel nice…

I was lost in sluggish thoughts when—

“So, um…” A small voice broke the silence beside me.

“Hm?”

When I glanced over, Makura repeated, slightly louder, “So, um…”

“Wanna, like, stay over tonight?”

“…………”

I froze.

“Did you say ‘stay over’?”

“Yup. Your hearing’s fine.”

“Good to know. ……Wait, stay over!?”

I bolted upright from the bed.

“Yeah. No cram school, right?” she said casually.

“Right, but… huh?”

“If you stay, we can keep chilling and play some more.”

“Sure, but…”

Makura spoke so nonchalantly. She’d seemed hesitant at first, but now a bold grin spread across her face.

Apparently, I’m the only one freaking out here.

Staying over at a girl’s place. I’d never imagined it, but it feels… wrong, like I’d get in trouble. I can’t pinpoint why.

But—

“Is that okay?” I asked.

Makura nodded firmly.

Seems like it’s fine.

What about me? No classes. Not in the mood to haunt the study room all night. And nowhere to go home to at this hour…

I could tell my parents I’m at a friend’s. If I say I’m studying with a cram school buddy, they won’t question it. I don’t actually have close friends like that, though…

Makura kept sneaking glances, waiting for my answer.

I swallowed hard and spoke. “Then… I’ll stay over.”

Her face lit up.

Seeing that, a nervous flutter stirred in my stomach.

“Dinner? Supper? Or maybe… food?” she asked.

“Why are the choices all about food!?”

“I mean, aren’t you hungry? Gotta fuel up for a long night.”

Having decided to stay at Makura’s and sent a quick message to my parents, she chimed in.

The clock on her bookshelf showed just before 6 p.m. Definitely dinner time.

“Alright, food it is,” I said.

“Sweet!” Makura rolled up her sleeves with a grin.

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Oh, I’ll cook!”

“Huh?”

She’s cooking? That’s, like… you know…

“N-No, you don’t have to go through the trouble. I figured we’d grab something from a convenience store.”

“Oh, Manamichi-kun! You’re blushing at the idea of a girl’s home cooking,” she teased.

“No… I mean, can you actually cook?”

I glanced at the low table, where her lunch cup noodle container and an empty juice bottle still sat.

“Aaah! You’re doubting me!” she exclaimed.

“I-I’m not doubting you, really…”

It’s just that depravity and housework feel like opposites, so hearing her say that caught me off guard. Okay, maybe I was a little flustered at the idea of eating Makura’s—er, a girl’s—cooking…

“You cook regularly?” I asked.

“Yup, at night. Frozen food and takeout get old, and honestly, my cooking’s tastier.”

I let out an impressed “huh.” She sounded confident. Maybe I could look forward to it.

Makura smirked, the corner of her mouth curling up. “Heh heh heh. Behold, the ultimate lazy meal!”

“Hold up, that name’s giving me bad vibes.”

“Leave it to me!” she drawled, standing up and heading to the hallway’s mini-kitchen.

Despite my concerns about the name, I wasn’t in a position to complain when she was treating me. I decided to wait quietly.

“Oh, play a game or read manga or something!” Makura called back, returning briefly with a colorful piece of fabric in her hands.

“What’s that?”

“An apron. Don’t wanna get dirty.”

She unfolded it and slipped it on, tying her hair back with a wristband and spreading her arms to show off. “Ta-da! Pajama apron!”

A floral-patterned apron over her flax pajamas. Pajama apron? First I’d heard of it.

“Well? Well?” Makura’s sparkling eyes locked onto me, brimming with expectation.

“It, uh, suits you,” I managed.

“Yay! Enchanting, right?”

“It’s like… homey.”

“H-Homey!?”

A faint flush crept across Makura’s face.

“Oh, I get it—it screams ‘I can do chores,’ huh? Ugh, I’m giving off total wife vibes, aren’t I? Not that I’m old enough for that!” she rattled off quickly, as if covering something up.

“Chores…” I mumbled.

No, that’s not what I meant.

“It wasn’t just homey… it was super homey. Like, really cozy, or rather, it’s got this strong sense of decadence…”

I mean, it’s an apron over pajamas…

“That’s not a compliment!” Makura’s voice rose in mock shock, catching my meaning.

It felt less like “capable homemaker” and more like “cooking casually while lounging at home.”

“Gimme back my newlywed vibes!” she pouted. Was she really going for that…?

Meanwhile, I secretly thought it had a cozy, “we’re so comfortable together” couple vibe, but saying that would be way too embarrassing, so I kept it to myself.

“A-Anyways, just chill! You can turn off the game. Oh, I’ll close the door so the cooking smells don’t fill the room.”

With that, Makura shut the door and headed to the hallway. The frosted glass glowed as the kitchen light flicked on.

Now what?

I pulled my bag closer. If I’m skipping the study room, I should at least study a bit. I took out a textbook but zoned out before opening it.

The rhythmic chopping from the hallway, the sizzle of oil heating, the game’s looping BGM, and the fading light from the curtain gap, leaving only the ceiling light to illuminate the room—it all blended together.

I’ve only known Makura for about two weeks. And now I’m sitting alone in this girl’s room. Realizing that, it felt… surreal.

“…………”

I wanted to study, but the mood just wasn’t there. I set the textbook down with a sigh.

Other options were games or manga… but while she’s cooking for me, killing time with entertainment felt wrong. Still, doing nothing left me fidgety, so I grabbed the TV remote and switched from the game to a broadcast channel.

A music show was on, and I stared blankly at it. An unknown singer performed “that classic hit.” It sounded vaguely familiar… or not.

When was the last time I just sat and listened to music—actually appreciating it? If I had free time, I’d study. Even with earphones on the go, I’d listen to English audio for practice.

A rock band celebrating their 20th anniversary sang a mellow tune, followed by a high-energy idol group, five years out from their underground debut, bouncing onto the stage.

Then, bzzz-bzzz-bzzz, a phone’s vibration echoed. My phone on the floor wasn’t lit up—it was probably Makura’s, tossed on the bed.

I hesitated to tell her, and the buzzing stopped.

Or so I thought—30 seconds later, it started again, relentless.

I stood to let her know, but—

“Manamichi-kuuun, it’s almost done!”

The hallway door swung open, and Makura poked her head in.

“Already? That was fast.”

The clock showed barely ten minutes since she started cooking.

“Heh heh heh. The trick to lazy meals is minimal effort for max results.”

That line alone sounded worrying, but a mouthwatering aroma wafted from the kitchen. I couldn’t help but swallow.

“Just waiting for the rice now. Oh, were you doing something?”

I shook my head. “Nah, nothing. It’s fine.”

“Cool. Then……”

Her words cut off.

“Hm?”

Wondering what was up, I started to ask, but she stepped into the room.

“Gotta clear the table for dinner!”

With an awkward chuckle, she began tidying the low table’s trash. She switched off the TV with the remote, prepping for dinner like a pro.

“Oh, right! Your phone was ringing earlier.”

“Phone?”

Makura tilted her head slightly, reaching for her phone on the bed.

That’s when it happened.

Ding-dong-ding-dong-dingdingdooong! A frantic doorbell rang through the room.

“Whoa! Coming!” Makura answered in a flustered voice, standing up.

“You’re answering it?”

I asked, surprised. She was in her pajama apron—probably not an outfit she’d want guests to see…

But she nodded firmly. “Yup. The lights are on, so pretending I’m not here won’t work. Plus, I know who it is by that ring. She’s probably drunk… Oh, but Manamichi-kun, you might wanna hide.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I’ll close the living room door, so stay quiet, okay? I’ll hide your shoes too.”

“O-Okay.”

Seems like there’s some reason my presence—er, a guy’s presence—would be bad. Given she’s fine with her pajamas being seen, is it a parent or relative? A boyfriend…? Nah, no way.

As I mulled it over, the doorbell rang again—ding-dong-ding-dongdingdingdooong.

“Alright, I’m counting on you!”

With a quick salute, Makura closed the door and headed to the entryway. I heard her call “Coming!” as she opened the door.

And then—

“You didn’t pick up, so I thought ‘y-y-y-you brought a guy over!?’”

A slightly husky female voice rang out, sharp and accusatory.

……Busted immediately.

“A-a guy? W-why?” Makura stammered, clearly flustered.

Oh, right. I’m hiding in here, and she stashed my shoes. How could they know a guy’s here so fast?

“You’re cooking? You never do that… It’s gotta be a guy. Plus, you set out two plates.”

“Oh, crap……” Makura muttered.

Two plates…… Makura made a rookie, fatal mistake……

“You were so wrapped up you didn’t answer? Huh? What were you doing?” the voice pressed.

“No, sorry, I was just cooking and didn’t notice,” Makura replied.

“…You weren’t checking your phone while cooking? Like for recipes or steps?”

“Nope. If it’s something I’m used to, I don’t need to.”

“Such…… girl power…” The husky voice trembled with shock.

But she recovered quickly. “Wait, hold up. Koiro with a guy…?”

“W-What?”

“How? When? What changed to make this happen?”

“I-I can make a friend or two!” Makura shot back.

“But you’ve been a shut-in lately, right? Who could you trust that much…?”

“Just someone who happened to drop off assignments—oh, crap!”

Mid-sentence, the front door slammed, and heavy footsteps stomped down the hall. “Seriously?” I thought, but there was nothing I could do.

“Wait! Yako-chan! What’re you doing?” Makura called out.

“I gotta see who it is! I was asked to check.”

Asked? Wait, should I hide!? But there was no time—

Before I could move, still sitting, the door flew open.

A piercing, intense gaze glared down at me. Light brown hair fell to her shoulders, framing a sharp nose and fierce almond eyes. A bit gyaru-ish, though she’d probably deny it—slightly flashy but strikingly beautiful.

What stood out most was her outfit. A pantsuit, of all things. And for some reason, she held a beer can in one hand, her cheeks slightly flushed. Tilting the can to her lips, she narrowed her eyes at me, frozen with my mouth agape.

“Wait, Yako-chan,” Makura said, stepping between me and the woman from the hallway.

But then—

“……Yako-chan?” Makura’s voice wavered with confusion. I noticed it too and caught my breath.

She was crying. The woman called Yako-chan had trembling shoulders, tears pooling in her eyes. Unable to hold back, she covered her face with her arm.

“Waaah, Koiro!”

Sobbing, she threw herself into Makura’s arms.

Makura caught her shoulders, gently rubbing her back, and shot me a troubled look.

＊

“…So, you got dumped?” Makura asked.

“……Yeah,” Yako-san mumbled.

“And drank a ton?”

“……Yeah.”

“Then came barging in here wanting someone to listen?”

“……Pretty much…… gusun.”

“You don’t have to cry.”

“……Seeing you all cozy with a guy made me sad, lonely, and jealous all at once…”

“W-We weren’t being all lovey-dovey or anything!” Makura protested, patting Yako-san’s head.

This sudden intruder was apparently named Yako-san.

I sat on the bed, while Makura and Yako-san leaned against cushions on the floor. Yako-san was practically draped over Makura, resting her head on her chest, almost like she was being spoiled. She looked way older than us, though…

“It’s okay, Yako-chan. You’re bound to find someone great. This time was just bad chemistry,” Makura said, offering comfort.

Apparently, Yako-san got dumped, drowned her sorrows, and ended up here.

“Really?” Yako-san looked up at Makura with teary eyes.

“Yup, totally. Right?” Makura tossed the conversation to me.

“Y-yeah. Definitely,” I scrambled to agree.

I don’t know this person at all. Getting roped in like this, I couldn’t exactly come up with smooth reassurances… As I fumbled, Yako-san sat up, her messy bangs falling over her eyes, and gave me a sharp look.

“You really think so?”

“Y-Yes. I do.”

“Huh…… You’re a good guy.”

That’s all it took!?

Yako-san casually swept her bangs aside with one hand and chugged the beer she’d been holding in the other.

“It started with a matching app,” she began.

Oh, she’s launching into a story……

“Signed up late at night for this new app. Used some flattering photos to barely snag a chat with a younger guy. We bonded over loving beer—called ourselves ‘Beers’ like a play on the app’s name, super cute. Went for dinner the next day… and crashed. Conversation just didn’t click. I could feel the age gap in every word—huge blow. I’m scarred for life.”

“Aw… You’re still young, Yako-chan,” Makura said.

“I thought so too… but talking to him, it was obvious. Nothing clicked, just me floundering. Honestly, my life only gives me work or booze to talk about…”

She’s got this cool, gorgeous older-sister vibe, but how old is she really? As I wondered, Makura discreetly signaled “31” with her fingers.

Yako-san took another swig, tilting the can high. Finishing it, she let out a big sigh.

“The guy claimed he loved beer but ordered a highball on his second drink. Should’ve known we’d never get along.”

“Y-Yeah, exactly!” I nodded vigorously, catching Yako-san’s glance. That sounded like sour grapes, but no way I’d say that out loud.

“See? You’re a good guy,” she said, her approval oddly easy to earn.

Seizing the moment, Makura spoke up. “So, this is my friend—? Yako-chan. And this is Negoro Manamichi-kun.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did I hear a question mark after ‘friend’?”

“Oh, it’s a bit complicated,” Makura said with a sheepish grin. “Not a direct friend, more like my cousin’s friend who I’ve known forever. We hung out a lot with my cousin, and since Yako-chan moved into this apartment, we got even closer.”

“Just call me a friend already. Am I getting rejected by a girl now? I’ll cry again!” Yako-san protested.

“Sorry, sorry!” Makura laughed, patting Yako-san’s head again. They really seemed like close sisters.

It made sense why Makura didn’t mind opening the door in her pajamas—she was that comfortable with Yako-san.

“You live in the same apartment?” I asked.

Yako-san nodded. “Koiro’s on the second floor, left end. I’m on the first floor, right end.”

“Oh, coincidence?”

“……Nah, I picked this place because Yako-chan lives here,” Makura admitted.

They’re that close.

“Still, sorry for barging in before dinner,” Yako-san said, sitting up straight, her tears now gone. “I’m usually good with liquor, but today I got weirdly drunk.”

“Seriously,” Makura said. “It’s fine since we were waiting for the rice, but you bursting in was a shock.”

“I thought someone was stealing my Koiro! I had to check who this guy was,” Yako-san teased.

“Stealing……” Makura gave a soft, wry smile.

“I’m just dropping off makeup assignments,” I explained. “We got kinda close, but it’s not, like, anything weird.”

Makura nodded along.

“School friend…?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Could I say I’m her disciple in depravity? Probably not, so I kept it vague.

“Manamichi-kun’s super smart,” Makura added. “Goes to tons of cram school. He’s helping with assignments, so I invited him over.”

“Wow, impressive,” Yako-san said. “You have a bright future ahead, huh? Got any dreams, kid?”

“Dreams… Not really…”

“Hm. I’ve got one—early marriage.”

“That’s more of a wish than a dream…” Makura replied with a wry grin.

Yako-san jabbed her side with an “Oi.”

“Still, Koiro bringing a guy home…” Yako-san shot me a loaded look.

Hm? What’s that about? I tilted my head.

“Y’know… Don’t people call you naive, Negoro-kun?”

“W-What’s that outta nowhere? What do you mean?”

“No, no, in a good way!” she said, chuckling mysteriously.

But her next words swept my questions away. “……Now that I look, you’ve got a nice face. A good haircut, and you’d be quite the looker. As expected of Koiro’s pick. Wanna swap contac—”

“Hold it! Don’t start hitting on him in my house!” Makura jumped in, flustered, throwing her hands up to block Yako-san’s view.

“Whoops, my bad. Old habit—always collecting guys’ numbers,” Yako-san said with a grin.

“Habit!? Yako-chan, you’re so desperate you’ve lost all standards!” Makura exclaimed.

“Sorry, sorry. But Koiro, you’re getting all protective over your guy,” Yako-san teased, her grin turning sly.

“N-No, it’s not like that with Manamichi-kun. Anyway! This topic’s done!” Makura’s face flushed slightly as she forcibly changed the subject. “Yako-chan, you’re staying for dinner, right? I made extra since we’ve got a guest.”

“Heck yeah, I’m eating! I’m suddenly starving!”

“Rice is done, so I’ll set it up. Behave,” Makura said, standing and heading out.

She opened the door to the hallway, then spun around. “And no private chats!”

With a quick glare, she shut the door.

Today, Makura’s showing all kinds of expressions I’ve never seen in the weeks we’ve spent together, I thought absently.

“Bam!”

“Whoa!” I jumped as Makura burst through the door.

“W-What’s that for?”

“Here, donburi!”

[T/N:Donburi is a Japanese dish consisting of a large bowl of rice topped with various ingredients like meat, fish, or vegetables, simmered in a sauce.]

Makura strode in, holding two donburi bowls. “Dig in!”

She set them on the low table, and I caught a glimpse inside.

“Whoa! Looks delicious!” I couldn’t help sitting up straight.

The aroma was incredible. Miso-based, maybe? The sweet-spicy scent had my mouth watering. Over white rice sat stir-fried meat, eggplant, and colorful bell peppers, all cut to perfect bite sizes, begging to be shoveled in with the rice.

“It’s good—this is the peak lazy meal!” Makura said, grabbing chopsticks and glasses of tea from the kitchen.

“Lazy?” I asked, incredulous.

“Yup! A super easy, lazy menu fit for depravity,” Makura said with a grin.

“T-This is lazy…?” Yako-san’s eyes widened as she peered into the bowl.

“This counts as lazy,” Makura insisted. “Chop veggies. Stir-fry meat. Make sauce, mix in. Plop on rice.”

“Hold on, Koiro. That’s four steps already!” Yako-san protested.

“Steps…? C’mon, putting it on rice doesn’t count.”

Is Yako-san bad at cooking…? Compared to her, Makura looks like a proper, non-shut-in adult. Still, Makura calls it simple, but this is legit cooking. If she can whip this up halfheartedly, what’s she like when she tries?

“Anyway, eat while it’s hot. Guys love this stuff!” Makura urged.

I grabbed chopsticks, scooped some meat and rice, and took a bite.

“This is…” I mumbled, already going for another.

Makura watched me, swallowing hard, her eyes fixed on my reaction.

“It’s awesome! Seriously, it goes so well with rice. I could eat it forever.”

I got why she said guys would love it. The sweet-spicy sauce on the meat was a winner, the eggplant melted in my mouth, practically stealing the show, and the bell peppers’ slight bitterness kept it fresh, making the rice endlessly devourable.

“Right? Phew, glad you like it!” Makura’s cheeks softened with relief as she headed to grab her own bowl.

“Man, this’d go great with beer,” Yako-san said. “Koiro, got any?”

“Go get some from your place,” Makura shot back.

“Ugh, stingy.”

“C’mon, a minor’s fridge stocked with beer would be a whole issue.”

Brushing off Yako-san, Makura started eating too. “Sorry it’s so lazy. It’s like a lazy meal, or maybe even guy food.”

“No way, this is totally great,” I said, meaning every word. It had a different warmth from my mom’s cooking at home. Miso and doubanjiang were probably the main flavors, revving up my appetite, perfect for powering through a hot summer.

“Really? It’s so lazy, though,” Makura said.

“All that matters is the taste.”

“I also went with donburi to minimize dishes to wash.”

“R-Right. That’s… quite thorough…” I fumbled for a response, and Makura giggled, amused.

She took a sip of water and sighed. “Still, hearing that makes me happy.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at the bowl, her voice calm.

“Thanks for making food,” I said.

“No prob! This was my first time cooking for a guy.”

“Oh…”

First time, huh…

I snuck a glance at her face. She was peeking at me too, and our eyes met. In that instant, her cheeks flushed red, and she stammered, “O-Oh, wanna crack an egg on it halfway? The yolk makes it next-level!”

“Y-Yeah, sounds good!”

“Let’s do it, let’s do it!” she chirped, repeating herself.

Her first time cooking for a guy… was for me. That thought felt oddly ticklish, embarrassing even. A restless feeling stirred in my gut, one I’d never felt before. Was Makura feeling something similar, all flustered like that?

A snicker broke the moment. “Ooh, nice—now this is what I call pure youth!” Yako-san grinned wide, tilting her already-empty beer can again.

“Yako-chan!” Makura shot her a glare.

But Yako-san kept on, turning to me with a smirk. “Negoro-kun, just ’cause Koiro’s a great cook, don’t mooch off her like some freeloader.”

“I wouldn’t!” I protested. Wouldn’t a freeloader have to cook for her? No clue.

“Guys like that just know how to tug at your heartstrings…” Yako-san continued, her voice turning wistful. “Buy them a practice guitar, and they think they’re musicians, saying they’ll make it big with their band, so you support them, chasing the dream together—only for them to quit practicing after three days. Classic sob story…”

Yikes, she’s spiraling. Is this based on real experience…? She tipped the empty can vertically again, sniffling.

“Youth… How nice. My youth…” Yako-san murmured, her voice heavy with nostalgia.

“Oh no, Yako-chan’s spiraling,” Makura said. “There, there—you just went through a fresh breakup, so take it easy tonight.”

“Fresh breakup… ughhh,” Yako-san groaned.

Was that low blow intentional, Makura? Or payback for the teasing?

“Fine, I’m drinking tonight!” Yako-san declared.

“Ugh… Want me to whip up some snacks?” Makura deftly dodged Yako-san’s attempt to sling an arm around her and stood.

“That’s my Koiro!” Yako-san cheered, hands on the floor, clearly enjoying herself.

Eating together like this, all lively and loud—it’s a first for me. Not bad at all, I thought, watching them.

☆

The sound of the shower drifted from beyond the door.

It’s my house, but hearing someone else use the bathroom while I wait feels so… novel. Taking turns showering is already so out of the ordinary, it’s been weirdly surreal the whole time.

After dinner, we chatted a bit, and Yako-san left. “Koiro, don’t make any mistakes, got it? Hahaha!” she teased, all cheerful. Then, more quietly, “He seems alright, so I’m relieved.”

……She’s still pretty drunk. Hope she made it back to her place okay.

Alone now, Manamichi-kun and I decided to take turns showering. It’s a sleepover, after all. We’ve got a long night of gaming planned, so we need to freshen up. Cooking in the un-air-conditioned hallway left me sweaty and gross, so I went first. Now it’s his turn.

—Wait, the shower’s this loud? …Oh no, I wasn’t humming or anything, was I?

Thinking about that with a towel around my neck, the shower stopped. The bathroom door clacked open, and Manamichi-kun stepped out. I’d been peeking toward the door—and my eyes widened.

Through the frosted glass in the living room door, a flesh-colored silhouette appeared.

My heart thudded. I-Is that…… Manamichi-kun’s… b-body……?

—W-Wait, it’s this visible? ……Oh crap, I walked out without clothes, didn’t I……?

Panicking at the awful realization, I shook my head vigorously. My hair, still not fully dry, felt heavy.

Don’t think about it, just don’t……

Rustling came from the hallway, like he was digging through his bag. He’d brought it into the bathroom with him.

But hold on—the sleepover was spur-of-the-moment. He didn’t bring pajamas, right…?

I zipped to the closet and pulled out a few of my bigger pajamas. A moment later, the door opened hesitantly. As expected, Manamichi-kun was back in his school uniform from this morning—probably all he had to change into.

“All done, huh. You can wear this,” I said, handing him a pajama set.

“Oh, thanks. Can I really…? Wait, isn’t this that shark one you wore before!?”

“Hahaha, I thought it’d look good on you.” I giggled, picturing him in the shark pajamas.

……Pretty cute.

But Manamichi-kun looked troubled. “Nah, this is a bit much…”

“Kidding, just kidding! It’s probably too small for you anyway. Here’s the real one.”

I took back the shark pajamas and handed him a few I’d picked out: a breezy rayon button-up set, a loose long-sleeve tee I’d upgraded from casual to sleepwear, and a checkered set that wouldn’t look weird on a guy. Some were naturally roomy, others I’d bought big for a baggy fit.

“Pick whichever.”

He eyed them and chose the checkered set. “Can I really wear this?”

“Yup! Totally fine. My place is a chill, cozy lodge for people to crash anytime.”

“You make it sound like an amusement park!” he quipped.

I’m so grateful for that comeback. If he’d just stared like, ‘What are you on about?’, I’d probably never recover.

I watched him head to the hallway to change, finding myself lost in thought. Me, showing off such a lazy meal? And before that, standing around and posing in pajamas in front of someone… It’s only because it’s Manamichi-kun that I can do this. Maybe I’m changing a little, too…

The door clicked open. “…How’s it look?”

Manamichi-kun stepped back in, spreading his arms to show off the pajamas with a shy expression. It was so cute, I couldn’t help but smile.

“I-is it weird?”

“No way! You look awesome!” Seeing him in something other than his uniform was so fresh. A guy wearing my pajamas feels kinda weird though… …Anyway, good thing the size worked!

“Hey, Manamichi-kun, why not get some loungewear for here? Wearing your uniform at home’s no way to relax.”

“Hm, yeah, true. If I can change in the hallway like this…”

“Let’s do it!” I grabbed my laptop from beside the pillow, powered it on, and opened a browser. Zipping through the touchpad, I clicked the shopping site tab at the top.

“Manamichi-kun, we’re having a shopping date!”

“Is this really a date……?” he teased but leaned in.

I tilted the screen toward him, and we browsed the shopping page together. “For loungewear, maybe something like sweats.”

“You could go for frillier pajamas! Like matching with me—”

“That’s not really my style.”

“Aw, but it totally would be.” Seriously, his hair’s a bit messy, but his face is handsome—he’d look good in anything.

“This one’s cool,” he said, pointing at an ad on the screen’s edge—a tracksuit set from a big sports brand, new for this season’s spring/summer line.

“Whoa, that’s super stylish! Let’s get it!”

“Hold up, I saw it first!”

“We’ll both get it! We’ll be matching buddies!”

“M-Matching…” He went quiet.

Oh, did “matching” make him shy? I wanted to see his face, but my face was probably red too, so I couldn’t look. I said it myself, but if our eyes met, I wouldn’t know how to react.

……Still, doing stuff together beyond games or manga is kinda fun. I hope he’s feeling the same.

With that thought, I added two tracksuits in different sizes to the cart.