The boy’s heated breath brushed against her ear.
The sudden closeness, the warmth of his right hand entwined with hers, the unmistakable scent of him, the hot breath at her ear paired with that magnetic voice…
All of it combined, making Mari’s heart lose control and race wildly.
Every point of contact—ears, palms, shoulders—sparked an involuntary current that surged through her entire body.
Mari felt her body tremble against her will. Her heart seemed gently gripped, and not only did her ears burn from being so close to him, but her legs went weak, nearly causing her to stumble. What on earth was happening?
Wasn’t this just a dream?
Why, then, did she feel so flustered and shy, unable to control her emotions, as if she were standing in front of Tsunayoshi Sawada himself?
It felt like being scalded; she quickly took a step back, trying to pull her hand free and escape this uncontrollable state.
But Tsunayoshi refused to let go, holding her hand with firm insistence, looking at her with puzzled eyes.
“Mari, what’s wrong? Why is your face so red?”
Mari jumped, almost like a startled rabbit.
Since he wouldn’t release her, she turned her head away, pressing the back of her head against him to keep some distance.
“W-What do you mean my face is red?! You misread my expression! I just… felt a little warm!”
She fanned herself with her hand, avoiding his gaze entirely.
“Oh, I see,” the boy said with a teasing smile. “I thought maybe you were shy.”
Mari had wanted to protest, thinking he should’ve let go by now, but once he said that, her words stuck in her throat.
If she admitted it, he’d think she was shy—and she couldn’t let him think that!
“No way! There’s no way I’d be shy over something like this!”
She gritted her teeth and declared, “Hold my hand all you want! I am absolutely, definitely not shy!”
The moment she said it, she immediately regretted it.
“That’s great, Mari! Thank you!”
But the boy, holding her right hand, took her words seriously. “Come on, we’re going to class. If we don’t get inside now, the discipline committee will close the gates!”
Mari could only blush, lower her head, and keep her face hidden as Tsunayoshi Sawada led her through the gates of Bensei Middle School.
“…”
He was trying his hardest not to laugh right now.
Mari looked absolutely adorable—always speaking before thinking, regretting it afterward, wanting to correct herself but too proud to do so, ending up embarrassed…
This dream version of Mari was disturbingly realistic.
He knew very well that this was a dream.
Perhaps the bracelet called “Dream Sight” really worked; he had only been thinking of Mari before sleeping, and now she appeared in his dream.
The moment he regained awareness in the dream, he saw the silver-haired girl with a flushed face extending her hand, saying that practicing romance should start with holding hands.
Along with that came his own role in the dream.
He was back ten years ago, on the morning Mari left Bensei. Yet, the dream didn’t unfold as his memory remembered.
Just moments ago, he confessed to a girl he didn’t even recognize; she didn’t accept, and then crying Mari suddenly appeared.
Was his subconscious telling him that if he confessed to another girl, Mari would be hurt?
Impossible.
And in the dream, he was… somewhat shameless, telling Mari they should continue practicing romance, and—ridiculously—she agreed!
Even though the scenario was absurd, Mari’s reactions were so realistic, so cute, that he decided to let the dream continue.
He also wanted to know: at what point would Mari decisively refuse him?
Curious… very curious.
The boy and girl walked hand in hand into the classroom.
Mari felt as if she were walking on clouds, completely distracted, swaying from side to side, having no memory of how she reached her seat.
By the time she came to her senses, they were already standing beside their desks.
The class bell rang, and the teacher and students with stern expressions took their seats.
“All right, time for class,” Mari said, shaking the boy’s hand off with a mock expression of annoyance. “Let go of me.”
“No way, Mari,” Tsunayoshi replied innocently. “We’re practicing romance, right? We have to hold hands the whole time.”
“W-What?! Are you stupid?!”
Mari glared at him, flustered. “We’re in class! The teacher and everyone else can see us!”
Even in a dream, this was too bizarre!
“No worries. I’ll just tell the teacher,” he said matter-of-factly, raising his hand.
“Excuse me, teacher! May I sit next to Amamiya today? We’re practicing romance, so we have to hold hands the entire time!”
Mari froze.
Did this boy even realize what he was saying?
Even more absurd, the teacher agreed without hesitation.
“All right, Tsunayoshi, switch seats with the student in front. Now, let’s begin.”
Mari remembered—it was a dream, so all the strange things made sense.
Tsunayoshi moved his desk right next to hers.
But that wasn’t enough; the rows were about a meter apart, making hand-holding tiring.
So he pushed their desks together, their chairs pressed close.
Mari froze.
Her left side was against the wall, and with his chair so close, she felt completely enveloped.
Her right hand was tightly held by this infuriating, self-willed boy. She felt breathless, dizzy, overwhelmed.
Even in a dream, she could feel her physiological reactions.
The more relaxed he seemed, the more flustered she became.
Especially when he turned his head to smile gently at her from so close, she felt her heart might leap out of her chest.
The lesson began. Mari quietly complained, blushing: “Why do we have to hold hands so long? This is weird… and I can’t even take notes.”
He gently squeezed her hand. “It’s fine. I’ll take notes for you.”
“You idiot, that’s not what I mean…”
“Holding hands is actually to desensitize you,” he explained seriously, looking into her eyes.
“…Huh?”
Mari blinked.
“Girls generally like mature guys, right? Acting childish loses points with them.”
“So, I want to hold hands with you more, so you won’t get nervous later.”
Mari stayed silent, staring down at her book, her silver hair falling over her cheeks.
Her voice was small.
“…Actually, whether you’re childish or mature, as long as it’s you, I…”
The teacher’s loud voice interrupted. Tsunayoshi didn’t catch that.
“Huh? Mari, what did you say?”
“Nothing! You heard wrong, idiot!”
Mari buried her face on her arm, muttering.
“Hold my hand as long as you want! I’m going to sleep now!”
She added through gritted teeth: “If you don’t take notes properly when I wake up, you’re dead!”
Tsunayoshi chuckled. “All right, all right. Sleep well, Mari.”
Her hand twitched.
So gentle…
Even in a dream, he was just as gentle as always.
Unbearably so.
She pretended to sleep but secretly watched him.
His left hand held hers, while his right wrote diligently in his notebook.
If ten years ago she hadn’t been taken away by her father, could this have happened in reality?
Impossible.
She knew herself well enough: if she didn’t know it was a dream, she would never act like this with him.
Like two fools.
That’s why this dream felt so precious.
A warm wave surged from her heart, washing away all awkwardness and frustration.
The emptiness she always felt seemed filled now.
Watching him quietly, the warmth spread through her entire body, lifting a small smile on her lips.
Tsunayoshi wasn’t really paying attention to the lesson.
He had only wanted to see how long Mari could endure before snapping.
But as time passed, he felt reluctant to hear her rejection, unwilling to face the coldness he knew too well in real life.
So he pretended to listen seriously, but his body subtly faced Mari, his eyes watching her out of the corner of his eye.
Directly staring would make her blush and struggle, breaking the peaceful dream.
He observed her for a long time.
He saw her shyness, awkwardness, and struggle. At the peak, when he expected her to give up and end it, she relaxed instead.
She seemed to get used to holding his hand.
No longer tense, no longer resisting, she even gently gripped his hand back.
Tsunayoshi’s left hand stiffened. He held his breath.
He was used to Mari’s stubbornness and resistance, but now, in a dream, she gave in voluntarily.
Was this how real Mari would behave, or just his dream?
He looked at the silver-haired girl pretending to sleep on her desk.
She had stopped pretending.
Her head rested on her left arm, silver hair like silk covering half her face.
Her pale cheeks still flushed, her emerald eyes gazing at him, filled with him.
A small smile lifted her lips.
At that moment, Tsunayoshi felt his heart struck.
How—how could a mere dream make her smile so irresistibly?
Like an angel.
Since meeting Mari, he could count on one hand the times she had smiled at him.
Especially after their real-life reunion, her expression was either annoyance, anger, or sadness.
Even that night, she had shown no positive emotion.
He, too, would feel hurt by her attitude, but now he knew how to hide it.
But here, in this false yet happy dream, facing a silver-haired girl smiling at him, all his suppressed emotions erupted.
Finally, a radiant smile bloomed without any pretense.
“Mari, I’m so glad to see you smile.”
Mari froze.
For some reason, the boy kept staring at her after turning his head.
His warm brown eyes trembled, then, as if understanding, he returned her genuine, radiant smile.
What’s with this idiot…
He’s smiling, but why does it feel so bittersweet?
Like he might never see her smile like this again.
Her eyes stung slightly.
“Idiot, stop looking at me.”
She withdrew her gaze, burying her face in her arm, not looking at him anymore.
Seeing such a gentle yet sorrowful expression, she wondered if she’d been too harsh.
Since it’s a dream, she’d be a little kinder to him for now.
Time in the dream passed quickly.
From Mari’s perspective, she had just a moment to reflect before the noon bell rang for lunch break.
Her mind still fuzzy, she barely remembered why she was here.
The boy’s gentle voice called her.
“Mari, wake up. Let’s go eat.”
“Oh…”
She looked up, hair messy, face flushed.
Tsunayoshi suppressed a smile, brushing silver strands from her face with his free hand.
His fingertip grazed her soft cheek.
She felt the gentle, natural touch—and electricity shot through her, waking her instantly.
Eyes wide, trembling, heart racing.
Shyness almost made her blurt out something rude, but recalling his gentle, sad smile, she held back.
She averted her gaze, lashes trembling, emerald eyes shimmering like sunset-lit lakes, cheeks flushed pink.
“It tickles…”
The silver-haired girl awkwardly tucked hair behind her ear.
“Don’t touch my hair, idiot.”
Tsunayoshi’s breath caught—his heart almost leapt out.
Why was dream-Mari’s cuteness and charm exceeding his limits?!
He inhaled deeply, reluctantly turning away, suppressing the urge to pull her into his arms.
Calm down. It’s just a dream.
Besides, messing up could ruin the dream entirely.
At least for now, he didn’t want to wake.
Please, let this fleeting happiness last a little longer.
Holding that hope, he grabbed a lunchbox from the drawer and led Mari out of the classroom.
They walked out the back of the building along a stone path, arriving at a familiar tree.
Seeing the familiar yet strange scenery, Mari drifted into memories.
Ten years ago, when Tsunayoshi became her “boyfriend” after her prank, they had lunch under this tree every day.
Once Nana saw them becoming friends, she not only didn’t mind but made lunch for both of them daily.
Mari only later learned that her often-traveling father had asked Nana to help make the meals.
Back then, she couldn’t make food herself; her lunches were always terrible.
Nana’s were full of love—and delicious.
After tasting one for the first time, Mari was hooked, even calling out “Mom” to Nana with Tsunayoshi once.
She had been embarrassed and wanted to run, but Nana just smiled, expressing gratitude and asking Mari to always call her Mom from then on.
From that day, calling Nana “Mom” and waiting for Tsunayoshi to bring her lunch became routine.
Every school day, at lunch, Tsunayoshi arrived first, setting up mats, brewing tea, and preparing napkins and chopsticks.
Mari would arrive on time, enjoying the treats, eating what she liked first and leaving the rest for him, sipping tea slowly.
Tsunayoshi hadn’t done this perfectly from the start—Mari had spent time training him meticulously.
In the dream, the past lunch scene was recreated, and Mari expected it to unfold as it had in memory.
But the boy sat directly on the grass, patting the spot beside him casually.
“Mari, sit down. Let’s eat together.”
“Huh?”
Despite her resolve to stay composed, Mari couldn’t help getting flustered.
“Why sit on the grass?! I’m wearing a skirt! It’ll get dirty!”
“Oh, right, I forgot that,” he said, realizing.
Mari glared at him. “Idiot, get the mat… wait, huh?!”
He grabbed her right hand, gently pulling her, and she stumbled into his arms.
Mari landed on his lap, clutching his waist and chest, tears in her eyes.
“Wah! What are you doing, jerk?!”
Feigning innocence, he said: “You didn’t want to sit on the grass, right? So you have to sit on me.”
“Are you clueless or pretending?!”
Her heart raced as she glared at him.
“Supposed to… sit on the mat…” “Sorry, Mari, no mat today.”
He wrapped his left arm around her waist, holding her firmly so she couldn’t get up.
Adjusting her position slightly, Mari’s balance shifted, leaving her no choice but to lean on him.
This guy is doing it on purpose!
Panicked, she tried to maintain distance with her arms.
She heard his faint, amused voice:
“And isn’t this part of romance practice? Lovers often hug like this. It’s part of the training, Mari.”
Hearing his heartbeat, enveloped in his warmth and scent, arms around her waist, Mari felt faint.
Utterly powerless.
Even for practice, sitting on his lap was over the top…
Before she could struggle further, he placed the lunchbox on her stomach.
“Ah! So cold! What are you doing?! It’s going to fall!”
With her current position, the lunchbox rested between her abdomen and thighs; she had to remain still to prevent it from slipping.
Tsunayoshi, innocent-faced, didn’t notice her struggle.
“Mari, I can’t help it—my left hand’s holding you, right hand’s using chopsticks. Can’t hold the box, so it goes on you.”
Smiling, he added: “Don’t move, or Nana’s lovingly made lunch will spill.”
Mari froze.
Even in a dream, she didn’t want to upset Nana.
Over the years, besides Tsunayoshi, the person she missed and felt guilty toward most was Nana.
Nana gave her motherly love like a real mother—but she had left without saying goodbye, causing her child pain. Nana must have disliked her…
Even more than worrying Tsunayoshi, she didn’t want to hurt someone so kind and gentle.