Leave Some Evidence.
20: Of Course…
Leave Some Evidence.
Chapter 20: Of Course…
Leave Some Evidence.
Night.
The sea breeze, thick with salt and moisture, swept across the beach.
The bonfire’s glow reflected on their faces.
Aoyama bit the last piece of grilled fish off the wooden skewer, chewed a couple of times, and swallowed.
He then picked up a split coconut shell and took a gulp of coconut water.
The sweet liquid slid down his throat, sending a cool sensation deep into his chest.
“So refreshing~!” He leaned back against the rock behind him, gazing up at the night sky.
The moon had risen recently, spilling silvery-white light over the sea.
The distant sound of the tide rolled in one after another, steady and unhurried, as if keeping an ancient beat for this deserted island.
“Aoyama-kun.” Kasumigaoka Utaha sat not far from him, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around her lower legs.
The bonfire’s light gilded her profile in a warm glow.
Her long black hair fluttered in the night breeze, a few strands clinging to her cheek.
“Hmm?” She turned her head to look at him, her red pupils reflecting the dancing flames.
“I was wondering while we were eating the fish…
does that underwater breathing ability of yours also work during normal breathing?” Aoyama thought for a moment, then swallowed the coconut water in his mouth.
“It probably has some ongoing effect.” “The tension regulation of the lungs has improved, so even with normal breathing, the oxygen exchange efficiency is higher than before.” “No wonder.” “No wonder what?” Kasumigaoka Utaha rested her chin on her knees, her gaze fixed on the bonfire.
Her tone carried that half-smiling, half-serious lilt.
“No wonder you’ve been staring at me this whole time, yet your heart rate hasn’t sped up in the slightest.” Aoyama blinked, taken aback.
“You can hear my heartbeat?” “Of course I can’t.” Utaha turned her head, raising an eyebrow.
“You stared at me for about seven seconds just now.
Normally, when a guy stares at a girl for that long at this distance, his breathing pattern would change at least a little.” “But you…
your rhythm was as steady as a stagnant pool of water the entire time.” “…That’s probably the Environmental Adaptation ability at work.” “Oh?” “In other words, Aoyama-kun is adapting to me?” “Or…
do you want me to ad…
apt to Aoyama-kun?” She drawled the last word, a smile curving her lips as she leaned toward him.
And then, while Aoyama was completely off guard, she grabbed the Pillar of Heaven.
“…” Aoyama fell silent for half a second, set the coconut shell on the sand, and sighed.
“Who did you learn that kind of trap question from?” “I’m a self-taught genius.” Utaha’s face flushed slightly as she puffed out her chest defiantly, tucking a stray strand of wind-blown hair behind her ear.
“Besides, is it really so embarrassing to be seen through by me?” Utaha said it so calmly, but her composure was merely a facade.
Her hand is shaking…
That’s impossible, right?
And yet, Aoyama was clearly struggling to hold back.
“It’s not embarrassing.” His brow furrowed as he registered the shift in her grasp.
He reached out and poked the firewood in the bonfire, sending a shower of sparks tracing brief arcs into the night sky.
“But your constant observation is putting a lot of pressure on me.” “Pressure?” Utaha’s hand faltered slightly.
Am I gripping too hard?
Unaware of her thoughts, Aoyama continued calmly, “I’m just worried that one day I’ll accidentally breathe a little too heavily, and you’ll interpret it as some bizarre psychological state.” Utaha’s voice sounded exceptionally clear and melodious in the night air.
“Don’t worry.
I only interpret the parts I want to.” After saying this, she pretended to gaze up at the moon.
Then, she tightened her grip on the scorching…
Pillar of Heaven.
“…” Silence stretched between them, filled only by the crackle of the bonfire and the rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore.
After a moment, Utaha spoke again, her tone softening.
“Aoyama-kun, about your underwater breathing ability…
when you’re under the water…
does that mean you can’t even speak?” Aoyama turned to her.
“If I tried to speak underwater, I’d just swallow water.” “So, when you’re underwater, you’re completely silent?” “Pretty much.” Utaha buried her face in her knees, her voice muffled.
“That’s a bit of a shame.” Aoyama asked curiously, “A shame for what?” “Nothing…” She looked up, half of her crimson-flushed face revealed in the firelight, her eyes shimmering with a hint of restless heat.
He watched her profile, her silhouette soft yet clear at the intersection of firelight and moonlight.
“Next time I go underwater, I’ll try my best to evolve the ability to speak.” “Pfft…” Utaha burst out laughing at his words.
A glimmer of amusement danced in her eyes as the smile on her lips widened.
“Aoyama-kun, when you seriously try to solve a problem like that, it’s like you’re telling a dad joke…
It’s cute.” “Is that a compliment?” “Guess.” Aoyama didn’t press her further.
He returned his gaze to the bonfire before them, feeling the changing speed and pressure of her grip.
After a moment, he felt a slight weight press against his shoulder.
Utaha had shifted closer without him noticing, leaning her head against him.
Her hair brushed his neck, carrying a faint, pleasant fragrance.
He wondered how she kept it so well on a deserted island like this.
“Aoyama-kun~” Her voice was so close he could feel her breath tickle the shell of his ear.
“Hmm?” “If it were just the two of us on this island…
wouldn’t that be nice?” Aoyama thought about it for a moment.
“As far as I can tell, that’s exactly how it is.” Utaha let out a soft, muffled laugh.
“If this were a typical school romance, the heroine would probably call you an absolute blockhead for speaking like that.” But there was something she kept to herself.
Aoyama-kun isn’t a blockhead.
Because he has a very firm, very hot piece of wood.
“Would you say that?” She tilted her head, rubbing her nose against his shoulder.
“I wouldn’t.
Because I know you’re not a blockhead.” Aoyama remained silent.
His hand rose from his side, reaching around her back to rest on her other shoulder.
The gesture was devoid of hesitation, as if he had always known he would do it.
Utaha leaned against his shoulder for a moment, then tilted her face up to look at him.
Moonlight fell across her features, casting a bright, shimmering glow in her eyes.
“Aoyama-kun,” she said, her voice carrying an unusual softness and tension.
“Your breathing has changed again.” “Has it?” “You skipped a beat just now.
It was only for a moment, but I felt it.” The corners of her mouth curved up slightly—So my methods are still effective.
Aoyama looked down at her.
“I guess I can’t hide anything from you.” “Of course you can’t.” Utaha’s voice held a trace of triumph, but her crimson eyes shone with a genuine, tender light.
“So, Aoyama-kun…
did you stop breathing because you’re nervous?” “Or…
were you thinking about something else?” Aoyama fell silent for two seconds before answering, “Both.” Utaha didn’t press him further.
She buried her face back into his shoulder, as if she’d finally found the perfect spot.
The night breeze blew in from the sea, flattening the campfire’s flames for a moment before they roared back to life.
After an unknown amount of time, Utaha’s voice drifted out again, light and airy—the kind of tone that, once spoken, could never be taken back.
“Aoyama-kun…
It’s okay, you know.” Aoyama paused, looking at her earnestly.
Utaha didn’t lift her head.
Her face remained buried in the crook of his shoulder, but the tips of her ears were tinged with a faint pink.
“…Are you sure?” Aoyama’s voice was a little hoarse.
“Yes.” She nodded, her voice even softer than a mosquito’s buzz.
“After all, there’s only you and me on this island…
and tomorrow, you’re going underwater to that kind of place again.” She paused, as if suppressing some emotion before continuing, “I have to leave something…
behind…” “Leave something behind?” “Of course…
leave some proof.” Kasumigaoka Utaha finally lifted her head.
The firelight illuminated her face, and though her expression held its usual composure, a moist glint lingered deep in her eyes.
“Proof that you were indeed with me today.” Aoyama gazed at her for a long time—so long that the campfire’s flames sank a fraction lower.
Then he reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair, ruffled by the wind, behind her ear.
Her earlobe was burning hot…
Kasumigaoka Utaha turned her head slightly, her face flushed crimson.
She didn’t refuse, nor did she pull away.
When Aoyama started searching his backpack for protection, Kasumigaoka Utaha stopped him.
“Aoyama-kun, you don’t need that kind of thing for the first time…” “…” The fire in Aoyama’s heart suddenly roared to life.
But he didn’t rush.
Instead, he took his time, testing the waters.
Only when the path was fully open did he finally sink into her.
“Kasumigaoka, don’t be nervous.” “Mmm~” Kasumigaoka Utaha gritted her teeth, her face flushed a deep red.
The campfire crackled in the night breeze, its flames casting long shadows of the two figures.
Aoyama shifted her, pulling her back to lean against him as he sat, resting his chin atop her head.
She could feel the steady, powerful thrum of his heartbeat through her back.
“Aoyama-kun, your breathing has changed again,” Kasumigaoka Utaha said, her voice tinged with a slight nasal quality, the end of her sentence trailing upward.
“It got so much faster just now…” “You noticed that, huh?” “How could I not?” She tilted her head back, resting it on his shoulder, and turned her face to look at him.
A mischievous glint danced in her crimson eyes.
Aoyama lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head.
“You’re Kasumigaoka Utaha.” “Nothing ever gets past you.” Kasumigaoka Utaha chuckled softly, the sound partially carried away by the sea breeze.
Her gaze drifted to the silver path of moonlight stretching across the distant ocean, as if she were watching something far away.
“Aoyama-kun.” “Hmm?” “That ability of yours…
can you really stay underwater for twenty-five minutes?” “Theoretically, yes.
In practice, it should be even longer, since my Environmental Adaptation is also at work.” “Then, when you return from the water…” She paused for a long time—so long that Aoyama thought she wouldn’t continue.
“When you come back, I’ll have an even bigger surprise for you…” “And you have to hold me just like this, just like you are today.” Aoyama tightened his arms around her.
“Okay.” His answer was curt, like confirming an agreement they had long since accepted.
Kasumigaoka Utaha said nothing more.
She closed her eyes, her breathing gradually becoming uneven.
The campfire burned into the dead of night, its flames slowly dying down.
“Aoyama…
kun…
slow…” The sound of the tide continued as always, the sea breeze gradually erasing the footprints left on the beach.
Aoyama sat in the fading firelight, one arm wrapped around Kasumigaoka Utaha’s side, his palm pressed against her lower abdomen.
She could feel the warmth of his palm, steady and hot.
He lowered his head and whispered something in her ear.
Kasumigaoka Utaha didn’t open her eyes, but the corners of her mouth curved into a barely perceptible smile.
The moonlight shone upon them, and upon the endless ocean behind them.
Until Kasumigaoka Utaha reached her peak, her legs trembling uncontrollably.
“Aoyama-kun…
just inside, not outside…” Aoyama frowned slightly.
Clearly, inside was not a wise choice, but since it was Kasumigaoka Utaha’s request, he had no choice but to comply.
“Aoyama-kun, more…” The night was still very long.