Chương 150: Chapter 150: A clear distinction between gratitude and resentment
Waking up in a daze, Amamiya immediately felt his arms aching, as if something was pressing them down tightly. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't free them. Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened his eyes.
The room was dim, still cloaked in the quiet of early morning.
It wasn't daybreak yet.
Only a faint sliver of morning light illuminated the room, just enough for things to be visible. The silence was broken only by the sound of soft, even breathing coming from his arms.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Amamiya glanced down. In front of him, nestled against his arm, was a small head. The girl lay on her side, her head resting on his left arm, sleeping peacefully like a cat.
Her hair was soft, silky, and exuded a faint fragrance. The color of her hair…
Wait.
It was difficult to tell.
The light was too dim, making it hard to discern whether her hair was pink or dark grey.
"There's another way to figure out who this is," Amamiya suddenly remembered, recalling how he had helped someone wash their back the other day—or was it the day before?
At the time, he had noticed a small mole just below the left collarbone of the gyaru girl.
That's right.
Umi might not seem the brightest, but she was definitely the girl with the noticeable mole on her chest!
All he had to do now was quietly pull open her pajama top and check for the mole to confirm her identity—wait, no, that's absurd.
If there was enough light to do that, he could have easily just looked at her face by now!
Regardless of who it was, Amamiya had made up his mind. His first objective was to free his arm.
So, how does it feel waking up to find a beautiful girl lying in your arms?
Uncomfortable.
Very uncomfortable.
His arms were sore and swollen. There was no way to feel good about it.
Amamiya began carefully maneuvering his arm, trying to slip it out without waking her. But the girl, deep in sleep, didn't stir.
Just as he was about to succeed in his escape, the girl mumbled softly and instinctively nestled her head back onto his arm.
"…"
Expressionless, Amamiya stretched out his free right hand and, without a word, lightly pinched the girl's cheek. Her skin was incredibly soft and elastic—it felt quite pleasant, actually.
"Mmm…"
The girl, disturbed by the gentle pinch, finally stirred. Slowly, she lifted her head from Amamiya's arm, her face still groggy with sleep.
Having just woken up, her face bore the red imprint of her sleep posture. Her delicate, fair skin was tinged with a slight blush, and her bangs were disheveled, revealing a smooth forehead. Her deep blue eyes, still hazy from sleep, blinked sluggishly in confusion.
It could only be the pink-haired girl..
"Amamiya-kun, stop pinching my cheek..." Chika muttered, before lazily dropping her head back onto his arm, as if intending to continue her nap.
'Hey, are you seriously planning to keep sleeping?'
'What a carefree attitude!'
Several seconds passed before the realization hit her. Chika suddenly snapped to full awareness, her head shooting up as she stared at Amamiya in disbelief.
"Ehh?!"
"You're pressing on my arm," Amamiya calmly pointed out, seizing the opportunity to speak first.
"Ah, sorry…" Chika apologized instinctively, but then puffed up her cheeks indignantly. "Amamiya-kun, you actually…"
Before she could finish, Amamiya cut her off with a serious expression, taking control of the situation once more.
"Chika, why did you attack me in the middle of the night?"
"That's what I should be asking 'you'!"
Chika quickly sat up, her voice rising with indignation. "There's no way I would have attacked you during the night—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Her eyes fell on the empty tatami mat beside her, and then the rumpled quilt, half-kicked off to the side.
In that moment, she was at a loss for words.
Because of the rain, the temperature last night had dropped significantly. Chika vaguely recalled kicking off her blanket during sleep, only to be awakened by the cold in the middle of the night. In her groggy state, she remembered feeling warmth nearby, and instinctively, she had inched closer to the source.
So... it really 'was' her who had initiated contact during the night? Was Amamiya the actual victim?
Realizing this, Chika's face flushed crimson, the color creeping across her cheeks as quickly as if visible to the naked eye.
Even someone as spontaneous and unpredictable as Chika couldn't maintain her composure upon realizing that she had unwittingly clung to a boy through the night, resting comfortably in his arms until morning.
"Hm…"
A soft murmur echoed through the pre-dawn stillness.
"Hai... Umi-chan!"
Chika stiffened at the sound, her pulse quickening. As she watched a blurred figure nearby stir, rolling over as if trying to sit up, panic surged through her.
This was bad.
Umi-chan was waking up. If she saw this situation, the misunderstandings would be endless.
In an instant, Chika made a decision.
No.
Umi-chan couldn't find out. There was no time to back away; the only option was...
Amamiya, still nursing his sore, numb left hand, suddenly felt a rush of air and caught the familiar scent of the pink-haired girl. Before he could react, she fell back into his arms.
"Shh~"
Chika raised her right hand, pressing a finger over Amamiya's lips. Her wide eyes blinked as she silently gestured toward him.
"Umi-chan is waking up. Don't talk, don't move."
Amamiya didn't respond—his attention was already diverted.
Something soft was resting in the palm of his left hand.
It fit perfectly.
"Eh?!"
Chika's eyes shot open in shock.
This was too much! What was he holding?
No… it seemed like it had just fallen into his hand when she had leaned down earlier. So, technically, it was her fault?
Yes, her own doing.
Completely self-inflicted.
Delivered straight into his grasp.
Still, it was an accident—so she couldn't really blame Amamiya-kun for it… Chika prided herself on distinguishing between right and wrong!
Meanwhile, Amamiya subconsciously squeezed the 'object' in his hand. The undeniable softness and elasticity immediately registered.
It was already May, and with temperatures nearing thirty degrees during the day, the pajamas they wore were naturally thin.
Amamiya could clearly feel the shape and warmth of Chika's chest through the thin fabric and, without thinking, squeezed again.
"Ahh!"
Chika's face rapidly puffed up, resembling an agitated pufferfish. She shot him an angry glare.
"Amamiya-kun!!"
"Sorry, my hand moved on its own."
Chika grabbed his wrist and silently communicated through her narrowed eyes, "'If you move again, I'll be seriously angry!'"
"So… you're not mad right now?"
"Of course I am! Furious! The kind that won't calm down easily!"
"…"
The two froze, holding their breath, neither daring to move.
In the dim light, the sound of rustling reached their ears from nearby. Umi, having stirred, picked up her phone and quietly made her way toward the bathroom.
"'Phew...'"
Chika let out a quiet sigh of relief and, with a determined expression, raised her head.
'Thud!'
She headbutted Amamiya's chest, then quickly rolled away, returning to her spot. Snatching up the quilt she had kicked aside, she pulled it over her head.
Sleep was now out of the question for Amamiya. Silently, he stretched out his left hand, clenching and unclenching it in the air.
He couldn't help but think that this incident surely had a follow-up.
"Stare—"
A pair of shy eyes peeked out from under the blanket.
Amamiya turned his head, only to find Chika peeking at him with the nervous curiosity of a little hamster.
Their eyes met.
"...pervert!"
"That's right," Amamiya replied calmly. "That's me."
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