Intimacy

May began, and before long, a week had nearly passed.

Ever since that unexpected kiss in the break room, Kiyona and Hoshino Kanade had grown noticeably closer.

Though the kiss had been partly impulsive, Kiyona hadn't chosen to kiss Hoshino Kanade without feeling anything for her.

The idea of "liking" someone still felt distant and unfamiliar to her. She'd thought she shouldn't have such meaningless emotions.

She'd grown up isolated from the world in the "White House," where she'd been taught a vast amount of knowledge and put through rigorous training: Martial Arts, Physical Techniques, Social Skills... lessons that covered every aspect of survival.

Yet to her, all of it had been nothing more than empty symbols. She couldn't find any use for what she'd learned, and gradually lost her sense of agency—or, in other words, her desires.

At this school, she'd gained freedom in name, only to find herself even more lost.

She instinctively resisted using the vast knowledge of how to deal with people stored in her mind.

Having just one "friend," Hoshino Kanade, seemed to be enough for her.

She tried the galgames her classmates were so keen to discuss.

She found it difficult to empathize with the characters' emotions, though certain scenes briefly stirred a physical response in her.

But when she tried using some of the seemingly interesting dialogue on Hoshino Kanade, she unexpectedly experienced a novel sensation she could only call "fun."

Perhaps that kiss had begun as a desire to explore—to find out what kissing felt like in a normal human romance—rather than from any deep emotion.

But the result had surprised her.

Kissing... felt good.

More importantly, she could clearly feel her own emotions welling up: enjoyment, dependence, happiness... Things she'd thought she'd lost forever had quietly returned as their lips met.

Faced with Kiyona's sudden, increasingly intimate gestures, Hoshino Kanade had no intention of turning her down.

Either way, he had nothing to lose.

He just couldn't quite figure it out: could one kiss really make this emotionally detached Kiyona so forward?

Or did she simply want to experience the outward rituals of "romance"?

The growing closeness sparked by that kiss soon seeped into every corner of their daily lives.

After that, the way they spent time together quietly changed:

After school, Kiyona would casually take Hoshino Kanade by the arm, and the two of them would walk side by side along the School Path beneath the drifting cherry blossoms.

At lunch in the cafeteria, they no longer ate in silence, each on their own. Every so often, Hoshino Kanade would casually scoop up a food Kiyona liked from his tray and offer it to her lips.

Kiyona would lean in slightly and eat it quietly, their movements carrying a wordless understanding.

At the library, they often shared a single seat. Kiyona would sit close beside Hoshino Kanade, and the two of them would read from the same book.

Whenever Hoshino Kanade turned a page, Kiyona's gaze followed. Their breaths were close enough to mingle.

Their intimacy had become as natural as breathing, woven into their daily lives as a familiar pattern.

But at times, a faint doubt passed through Kiyona's mind: in clinging so fiercely to him and drawing on his warmth and presence, was she longing for Hoshino Kanade himself, or simply craving the feeling he gave her?

That illusion of something instantly filling and soothing the cold emptiness in her heart?

The question lingered only for a moment before a stronger conviction swept it away.

Names, definitions, reasons, motives... Things others might need to analyze repeatedly to understand meant nothing to her.

All she could clearly feel was the strange calm and contentment when she was close to him, and the unbearable restlessness and emptiness she felt when she was away.

Kiyona didn't need to analyze the nature of her dependence.

She knew one thing for certain: only by his side did the cold, noisy, unpleasant world recede like a tide, leaving behind a pure stillness that put her at ease.

She just wanted to be with him, like this—sharing the same air, reading the same line, and feeling the same quiet.