When the club activities officially wrapped up for the day, the students gradually began to disperse to head back to their respective homes.
Akira was riding his motorcycle along the highway when his eyes suddenly caught a highly familiar silhouette on the sidewalk. Yukinoshita Yukino was walking with a distinct limp, beads of cold sweat pooling on her forehead. The sharp furrow in her brows indicated that the ankle sprain she sustained on the tennis court earlier was actually remarkably serious.
Akira promptly parked his motorcycle on the shoulder of the road, taking wide strides directly toward her.
Yukinoshita, catching sight of a figure clad in a black helmet approaching, instantly shifted into a defensive stance, taking two steps back.
"It’s me," Akira said as he removed his helmet, revealing his face.
Yukinoshita let out a long sigh of pure relief. "You absolute pervert... I half-assumed that you were planning to pivot into becoming a reckless motorcycle delinquent."
"Naturally. In fact, I was planning to kidnap a beautiful high school girl to take back to my apartment today," Akira countered casually, shoving the helmet directly into Yukinoshita’s arms. "Hop on, I'll drive you home."
Yukinoshita hesitated, staring down at the helmet in her hands with a conflicted mind. If her older sister, Haruno, ever caught wind of this motorcycle ride, the consequences were guaranteed to be intensely troublesome.
Noticing her hesitation, Akira added with a casual, indifferent tone. "Miss Yukinoshita, you definitely don't want to endure a throbbing pain in your leg all night to the point where you're forced to skip school tomorrow, right?"
Yukinoshita darted a sharp glare toward him before finally fastening the helmet over her head.
The Kawasaki Ninja 400 motorcycle quickly tore through the city streets, heading toward their apartment complex.
*SWOOSH! SWOOSH!*
The sharp howl of the evening wind roared past their ears, drowning out all surrounding noise. Akira could feel the girl on the rear seat trembling slightly against the cold draft, prompting him to reflexively lower his berkendara velocity to a gentler pace.
"Thank you," a muffled voice resonated faintly from behind his helmet.
Akira locked a thin smile onto his lips. "Don't mention it. It is an immense honor for me to escort a girl as beautiful as you home safely. Naturally, I will take exceptionally good care of you."
"A cheap, smooth-talking flirt..." Yukinoshita retorted from behind. Akira merely chuckled quietly, having zero intention of debating the assessment.
It didn't take long for them to pull into the apartment complex parking zone. After securing his vehicle, Akira attentively helped support Yukinoshita’s limping frame as they made their way into her apartment unit on the fifteenth floor.
"Phew~ We finally made it." Akira let out a long sigh of relief after successfully helping Yukinoshita settle her frame onto the living room sofa. "Do you possess any remedies for a sprain at home?"
"Yes, it’s inside the medicine cabinet located in my bedroom... Eh, wait a minute!!"
Completely ignoring Yukinoshita’s panicked, restrained shout, Akira moved significantly faster. He gently pushed open the wooden door to her private bedroom.
In an instant, the interior layout of the young lady's private bedroom was displayed right before Akira’s eyes.
Even though the room wasn't excessively spacious, every single item inside was arranged with absolute, pristine precision. On her study desk, several notebooks and stationery items were lined up perfectly, side-by-side with the jumbo Mr. Panda plushie from yesterday's eating contest. In the corner near the wall, a vast collection of cat plushies and Mr. Panda figures were stacked together to form an adorable little mountain. Meanwhile, on the mattress, the blanket and pillows were folded with strict symmetry.
Akira merely cast a fleeting glance out of respect for her privacy, then marched straight toward the wardrobe where the medicine box was stored. Upon parting the wardrobe doors, a striking array of Yukinoshita’s knit clothing divided perfectly into four seasons was revealed. Akira, steeling his inner mind, firmly averted his gaze from the lower drawers, quickly snatching the medicine box from the upper corner slot.
Yukinoshita, sitting on the living room sofa, stared at Akira’s approach as he stepped out of the bedroom clutching the medicine box, both of her cheeks flushed a vivid, burning crimson. "You absolute perverted scumbag... breaking into a girl's private bedroom without permission. Can't you control your filthy desires for a second? Did you subtly do something weird to my clothing inside?" Yukinoshita snapped, swiveling her face away to conceal her sheer embarrassment.
Akira placed the medicine box onto the coffee table, parting the lid to search for the appropriate bottle based on the instruction labels. "Relax, I didn't rummage through a single item inside. Besides, I possess absolutely zero interest in the fact that you collect underwear with Mr. Panda prints in your lower drawer."
"..." Yukinoshita instantly went dead silent, the atmosphere inside the room violently dropping into absolute freezing territory.
"Hmm?" Sensing a hazardous shift in the hawa, Akira raised his gaze to look at the girl before him. "Don't tell me... you actually collect underwear with Mr. Panda prints?"
"I have completely, utterly underestimated the depravity of your perverted instincts, Kitahara-kun. It seems I must immediately contact the police department to ensure they lock you away in a cell to reflect on your lecherous actions," Yukinoshita charged, her face perfectly flushed bright red down to the tips of her ears.
Akira chose to entirely disregard the threat. He lifted a bottle of specialized ointment for sprains, presenting it right before Yukinoshita's face. "Do you want some help applying it, or are you going to handle it yourself?"
"I can do it myself! Don't you dare peek, you pervert!" Yukinoshita snatched the bottle away, then slowly began rolling down and removing the knee-high black stockings she was wearing.
In a split second, a pair of Yukino’s long, slender, and pristine white legs were exposed to the open air. Her thighs appeared incredibly toned yet supple, a concrete testament to long-term, regular athletic activity.
Akira's gaze subtly drifted slightly lower, catching sight of five delicate, pastel-pink toes at the base of her foot. Sensing his intense stare, Yukino’s toes reflexively curled together as if expressing the owner's sheer nervousness. Her ankle, small enough to be enclosed within a single hand's grip, was currently occupied by a vivid, swollen red bump, creating a sharp contrast against her flawless white skin.
Yukinoshita began pouring the liquid and rubbing her ankle, but due to the awkward angle of her positioning, her movements looked remarkably clumsy and uneven.
"Haaah... let me just help you." Akira assumed custody of the medicine bottle from Yukinoshita's hands. He popped the cap open, pouring the clear, thick liquid directly onto his own palm.
Akira rubbed his palms together to generate a comfortable thermal heat, then dropped into a low stance, kneeling on one knee directly in front of Yukinoshita. Both of his hands moved forward smoothly, reaching out toward the girl's ankle area.
The moment the warmth of Akira's palms made contact with the surface of her ankle skin, Yukinoshita’s frame trembled subtly for a brief second before finally relaxing.
Akira began massaging the swollen area gently, smoothing out the liquid medicine using his fingers with a steady, rhythmic pressure.
"Ugh..." Yukinoshita reflexively let out a soft, tiny groan past her lips. Her face was flushed bright red as she felt the massage pressure along her leg. For the absolute first time in her life, she experienced a profound sensation of intense embarrassment, yet weirdly enough, her inner heart didn't reject the intimate gesture at all. Whether it was due to the thermal properties of the medicine or something else, a comfortable warmth surged up from her leg across her entire frame, providing a deeply soothing, relaxed state.
***
Elsewhere, inside the private apartment unit belonging to Yukinoshita Haruno.
"Finally finished with today's tasks~" Haruno stretched her muscle structure while letting out a massive yawn in front of her workstation. She stood up to brew a warm cup of coffee to treat herself.
"At this hour, Yukino-chan must already be safely inside her residence. Hehe, let’s take a little peek at what my cute little sister is currently up to." Haruno agilely activated the hacking software connected to the secret mini-camera inside her computer while taking a sip of coffee.
But the exact second the monitor screen ignited to display the room visuals, Haruno was presented with a scene where Akira was kneeling on one knee directly before Yukinoshita, his head lowered as he held her leg. Across from him, Yukino was sitting on the sofa with a face flushed bright red, her body shifting anxiously in pure intimacy.
*PUFFF!*
Haruno instantly sprayed the mouthful of coffee right past her lips, completely muddying the surface of her computer desk.
***
Twelve minutes later, back in Yukino's apartment.
Akira straightened his frame back up, securing the medicine bottle cap. "Alright, how does it feel now? Any better?"
"T-Thank you very much..." Yukinoshita swiveled her face toward the window, fiercely refusing to engage in direct eye contact with Akira to conceal the burning crimson across her cheeks.
"Don't mention it. The hour is getting quite late, I’ll be taking my leave to head back upstairs. Don't forget to secure plenty of rest." Akira glanced at the wall clock, then took wide strides toward the exit door.
"Yeah. Be careful on the road, you pervert," Yukinoshita murmured, escorting his departure.
The moment he stepped past the threshold and pulled the apartment door shut, Akira reflexively pumped his right fist into the air while covering his blushing face with his left hand. "That was so fun~!" he cheered under his breath, utterly delighted purely from being permitted to massage the young lady's beautiful leg.
Meanwhile inside the residence, Yukinoshita directly slumped her frame down, burying her face deep into a sofa cushion as her mind continuously drifted back to the warm touch of Akira’s hands from earlier.
***
Akira rode the elevator up toward the higher levels to return to his own apartment unit. However, the exact second he slid the main door open and stepped into the genkan corridor, a pair of an unfamiliar female's shoes neatly arranged across the floor instantly locked down his full focus.
"Uncle Nagano? Do we have a department guest over at the apartment?" Akira marched into the living room area with a deeply puzzled, knitted brow.
However, the moment his footsteps bypassed the partition frame, a bob-haired girl with a remarkably sweet visual whom he knew entirely too well suddenly stood up from his living room sofa.
"Kato...?" Akira stood completely frozen stiff at his spot, his eyes widening in absolute shock.
Kato Megumi locked a thin, remarkably sweet smile directly onto his face. "Good evening, Kitahara-kun."
For some unexplainable reason, catching the radiance of the smile currently displayed on Megumi's face, Akira’s survival instincts instantly detonated a massive, extreme danger alarm. This exact situation... didn't it look precisely like a corporate office salaryman who had recklessly sneaked out to a nightclub after hours, only to return home and find his wife sitting sweetly on the sofa waiting for him with a mysterious smile for a long time? An immense surge of pure guilt violently hammered against Akira's mind in rapid succession!
"Megumi dropped by to return your bento box. Since it’s already entering dinner hours, I figured I’d just invite her to have a meal here with us," Hirokazu Nagano shouted as he poked his head out from behind the kitchen partition frame.
Megumi locked a thin, remarkably sweet smile directly onto Akira. "Kitahara-kun, my apologies for dropping by unannounced like this."
Akira quickly shed his jacket, trying to regulate his heart rhythm which had briefly spiked from pure panic. "Ah, don't worry about it at all. I'm actually incredibly glad that you don't mind having dinner in a simple place like this, Kato."
***
Over the Dining Table
Staring at the array of dinner dishes intricately arranged across the table layout, the corners of Akira's lips reflexively twitched in resignation.
Akira darted a highly probing stare toward his uncle who was busy arranging the rice bowls. 'Uncle, since when did your culinary skills systematically spike to this level? I had absolutely zero clue.'
Nagano merely returned the look with a single wink from his right eye, packed with a highly mischievous meaning. 'There are countless parameters in this world that you have yet to comprehend regarding your awesome uncle, kid.'
Akira cleared his throat lightly, attempting to dissolve the atmosphere while scooping side dishes onto Megumi's plate. "Kato, thanks a lot for going through the trouble of returning my bento box today."
"Don't mention it. I'm the one who should thank Kitahara-kun for the lunch bento earlier. The taste was truly incredible!" Megumi replied in her signature calm tone. However, the exact millisecond she recalled the visual of the massive heart shape drawn thickly with ketchup earlier, both of her cheeks instantly flushed a deep pastel pink from sheer embarrassment.
Nagano, sitting at the head of the table, observed Megumi with a highly satisfied expression, thoroughly delighted that his ketchup masterpiece had delivered a heavy emotional impact.
"Kato, let me tell you a little secret. Akira here willingly woke up incredibly early this morning purely to prepare that specialized bento box for you. In all the years I've raised him, I haven't seen this kid expend that level of effort and concentration for anything before," Nagano chimed in, entirely refusing to waste a golden opportunity to tease his nephew.
"Eh...?" Megumi’s expression instantly froze for a brief wave. Even though her countenance remained perfectly flat, her tone of voice couldn't conceal a thin spark of sweet surprise.
The three of them spent a considerable duration over the dining table chatting casually. The vast majority of the conversation topics revolved around Akira's daily life and childhood traits. Nagano acted aggressively as the party launching various interrogation questions, Megumi responded to every obrolan with highly polite manners, while Akira could only lower his head to focus entirely on devouring his food to conceal his embarrassment.
***
After Dinner Concluded
After spending a brief wave relaxing in the living room while enjoying a cup of warm barley tea, Megumi finally stood up to bid them farewell.
Akira rose from the sofa as well, reaching for his motorcycle keys. "The hour outside is already getting dark, Kato. Let me escort you home safely to your doorstep."
"Um," Megumi nodded in agreement.
The two teenagers walked in unison into the elevator capsule to head down to the lower levels.
The moment the elevator doors sealed and began their downward trajectory, Akira scratched his cheek, flashing a wry smile. "My apologies for my uncle's behavior earlier, Kato. Uncle Nagano is the type who is far too expressive and loves launching all sorts of weird interrogation questions at house guests."
"It's fine. Uncle Nagano did that purely because he felt curious, and I can tell those actions are born out of an immense layer of affection for Kitahara-kun," Megumi countered, staring straight into Akira’s eyes with a deeply serene binar.
The two walked side-by-side into the motorcycle parking zone. Akira reached for the spare helmet hanging against the seat frame, presenting it directly to Megumi.
"Thank you very much," Megumi noted softly.
The bob-haired girl accepted the helmet and was just about to fasten it over her head when her hand movements suddenly locked completely stiff mid-air.
Akira knitted his brows in confusion, observing the sudden delay. "What's up, Kato? Is the helmet size slightly off?"
"No... it's nothing," Megumi answered, her lips curving into an incredibly calm, thin smile. However, hidden from Akira’s awareness, Megumi's right fingers subtly executed a highly precise, minute searching movement across the helmet's inner padding structure.
***
Twelve minutes later, inside the residence of the Kato family.
"Hei~ Megumi, you're finally back! I half-assumed you were going to recklessly stay the night at your boyfriend's apartment, you know. I was just preparing to boot up my phone to call you, purely to warn you to be careful and not cause any emergency accidents," Hiromi teased the moment she caught sight of her younger sister's silhouette walking past the genkan.
"Sister Hiromi..." Megumi, who had thoroughly memorized her older sister's teasing trait, could only let out a resigned, short sigh, far too exhausted to launch an unneeded explanation. "I'm heading to the bathroom to clean myself up first." Megumi took wide strides toward the bathroom corridor without turning her face back.
"Hmm?" Hiromi tilted her head slightly, staring at her sister's retreating back in pure bewilderment. Operating her adult female instincts, she could sense an unusual, slightly bizarre atmosphere lingering across her youngest sister's body language tonight.
Inside the Bathroom
Megumi was reclining comfortably against the edge of the bathtub filled with warm water. Her sharp eyes stared straight at the surface of her own right palm, deeply immersed within a profound psychological analysis loop.
The girl slowly raised her palm slightly higher, aligning it directly beneath the radiance of the bathroom overhead light.
An eleven-centimeter strand of a long black hair was currently lying perfectly undisturbed across Megumi's right palm tissue. It was an organic strand that emitted a highly distinct, floral-scented fragrance—an undeniable, concrete piece of proof that not long ago, a girl with long black hair had worn Akira's spare helmet right before her.