The morning air had cooled, as if denying the heat of the previous night.
Hina gazed at the sleeping face of her son beside her in the sunlit bedroom. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, his peaceful breathing—it was no different from any other morning, yet her heart felt strangely unsettled.
Her skin remembered—last night had not been a dream.
The warmth of those arms entwined with hers, the hand caressing her back, the low whisper by her ear. The memories clung to her, leaving a dull ache deep within her body.
(…What have I done?)
She shook her head slightly, mocking herself inwardly.
But no amount of denial could erase what had happened.
His hands had unmistakably sought her. And she had been unable to refuse.
Yet now, the morning routine of a maid at Yunoya Inn had begun.
Hina gently stroked the hair of her still-dreaming son and quietly slipped out of the futon.
“Be good, Keito…”
She hurriedly prepared herself and headed to the kitchen as usual. Wringing out the cloth, carrying dishes, checking the temperature of the hot water. As the busy minutes passed, her heart gradually returned to the rhythm of everyday life.
Once she finished her morning tasks and returned to the waiting room—
“…Huh?”
Keito was nowhere to be seen. Normally, he would be eating breakfast with Okami-san by now. It seemed he had finished early and gone somewhere—only his dishes, with a few grains of rice still clinging to them, remained on the table.
“Okami-san, where’s Keito?”
“Oh dear, he was just here eating. Maybe he wandered off somewhere…?”
She stepped into the hallway and looked around, but there was no sign of him.
“…Keito?”
Calling softly, she hurried down the inn’s corridors in search of him.
He wasn’t on the first floor. She had told him not to enter the guest rooms, and there was no sign he had gone outside.
Could it be—? Hina looked toward the stairs leading to the second floor.
As she ascended, a small figure heading toward the Camellia Room caught her eye.
“Kei—to! No! You mustn’t go there!”
The words burst out before she could stop herself. The rare sharpness in Hina’s voice made the hallway fall silent for a moment.
Keito turned around, blinking at her in confusion. In his hand was a small pinwheel—whether someone had given it to him or he had found it somewhere, she didn’t know.
But Hina’s gaze went past him, to the person standing beyond.
(…Keiichiro-sama…!)
Keiichiro had stepped into the hallway.
“…Keito?”
At the sound of that name, Hina’s heart lurched.
(Please, don’t notice. Please, don’t realize—)
But contrary to her silent plea, a clear change flickered across Keiichiro’s expression.
“Just now… what did you say?”
Hina tried to answer, but her throat closed up as if choked.
“…Did you say ‘Keito’?”
Keiichiro’s eyes narrowed. He took a step toward her.
“Don’t tell me… that’s my ‘Kei’?”
At the weight of that question, Hina bit her lip.
She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his eyes.
“Forgive me… I… borrowed that single character…”
Her voice trembled. The moment she spoke, it felt as though everything had been decided.
“…Hina. Is he… my child?”
“N-no…!”
The reflexive denial slipped out instantly. If she didn’t say it, she wouldn’t be able to escape this moment.
“I’m sorry… I have work to attend to—”
Before she could finish, Hina scooped Keito into her arms and turned away. Fleeing Keiichiro’s gaze before he could press further, she left the scene.
Clutching Keito’s warmth to her chest, Hina ran. Her throat burned, her breath tight.
(He mustn’t find out. Never.)
Even if this child carried the Saotome blood—he must never return to that man’s world.
If he were sent back to the Saotome family, what awaited him would not be love, but bitter reality and inescapable guilt. It might mean taking away the father Keito knew.
But if one day, the words “unwanted child” reached this boy’s ears—just the thought made her chest ache.
Desperately running, Hina didn’t even notice the tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Mommy, why are you crying?”
At the innocent voice, she jerked her head up.
Hastily wiping her face, she forced a smile.
“It’s nothing, nothing at all… I’m sorry, I scared you. …You mustn’t go to the second floor anymore.”
“Why?”
“Why…?”
Her words caught, and she averted her gaze.
“W-well… Saotome-sama is sick. He came here to get better. So he needs to rest.”
“…But Keiichiro made this for me!”
Keito held out the pinwheel in his small hand.
A simple handmade toy of paper and a toothpick. Its spinning shape in the breeze carried a nostalgic familiarity.
“I just wanted to say ‘thank you’!”
With that, Keito turned on his heel and dashed off before Hina could stop him.
“…Wait!”
Hina scrambled to chase after him, but at that moment, another voice called from a different direction.
“Hina-chan! Sorry, but could you come to the front desk?”
It was Okami-san.
She had to return to work—that was her place now.
Hina watched Keito’s small back recede, biting her lip.
She had to bring him back quickly. She was the only one who could protect him.
But right now, she had to return to work.
…Would it be alright to leave him with him?
The moment the thought crossed her mind, an inexplicable unease spread through her chest.
She didn’t know what she feared, or what she envied.
There was something painfully enviable about Keito running to him so freely, so openly—had she ever been like that, once?
Amid the storm of emotions, Hina took a deep breath and turned toward the front desk.
From then on, Keito became utterly attached to Keiichiro.
“Keiichiro, what’s this?”
Keito reached curiously for Keiichiro’s glasses.
“K-Keito, it’s ‘Keiichiro-sama,’” Hina hastily corrected, but Keiichiro only chuckled.
“Heh, it’s fine. I suppose glasses are new to you.”
His voice and touch were endlessly gentle.
As if that night had never happened.
Keiichiro lifted Keito onto his lap, removed his glasses, and handed them over. He watched quietly as Keito peered through them like a toy.
The scene looked so natural—more so than some real parent and child might.
Watching them, Okami-san laughed brightly.
“Keito-chan’s taken quite a shine to Saotome-sama, hasn’t he? At this rate, guests might mistake them for family!”
It was true. Normally shy, hiding behind Hina, Keito rarely opened up to near-strangers like this.
And of all people, to him.
Watching them made something restless stir in her chest.
“Say, if Saotome-sama doesn’t mind, maybe Keito-chan could have meals with him?”
“O-Okami-san…!”
Hina instinctively tried to stop her.
But Okami-san continued, utterly unfazed.
“Both me and Hina-chan are busy in the mornings. How about just breakfast? Of course, only if you’re feeling well enough.”
Please, don’t suggest something like that so casually— The words stuck in Hina’s throat.
Keito blinked, his gaze drifting between Keiichiro and Hina.
In the heavy silence, Keiichiro paused, then spoke calmly.
“Actually… I’ve been wondering how to pass the time while I’m here. Let me look after Keito.”
The casual ease of his words, the smile on his profile—it sent a sharp pang through her chest.
—Don’t say something like that so naturally.
Yet no words came.